March, 2003
Dominic Orlando remembers two important things
about his childhood: “I was born on Christmas Day, so for years I thought the
party was for me,” and “I started writing plays in grammar school.” And not just
any plays, but a series so anticipated at his Catholic school that he had to kill
off the two characters in eighth grade to move on artistically.
Today, it comes as no surprise where Orlando has ended up: as the artistic
director of a theatre company whose very mission is “to examine the
mythological life of America, returning theatre to its original role
as a place where society confronts its spiritual self.” On Thursday,
March 6, 2003, Orlando will discuss his work in the theatre, specifically
the new play he's writing at MacDowell, as well as present a recent
one-act directed by Peterborough resident Bob Lawson and performed by
his students in the Franklin Pierce drama department. The evening begins
at 7:30 pm at the Peterborough Historical Society.
Orlando, who considered becoming a priest, has the cadence of a preacher,
not to mention the zeal. But his zealotry is for the reconciliation
of the spiritual with the secular. “I think the trinity is a metaphor
for the entire person. You've got the father, son, the holy ghost; you've
got the mind, the body, and the spirit. And I think one-third of our
existence - the spiritual - is not being addressed today. People are
hungry for it.” It's here where his voice rises and the zeal takes hold.
“Our lives are our callings! And what I find so interesting about Jesus
Christ is that he was willing to take his calling all the way to the
end. He was willing to die for it. And whether we run a theatre company,
a law firm, or a movie studio, there's going to be a moment where we
have to confront our lives and decide if we're willing to go all the
way: Do I defend the guilty; do I produce the bad movie? Even if not
doing it means my career. I think true Christianity is troublemaking.
You can't be a ruthless capitalist and then do a half-hour of Tai Chi.”
The play Orlando is writing at MacDowell - Juan Gelion Dances for
the Sun - explores today's reckoning between true spirituality and
the zealotry often mistaken for it. It tells the story of a young Dominican
peasant who returns to his village after three years in the rain forest,
convinced God has charged him with a mission: “to heal the rifts between
the world's religions, and expose those who have twisted Christ's message
to serve their hunger for temporal power.”
Juan Gelion re-imagines Christ's New Testament journey for a
modern audience, but instead of wandering through the desert, Juan makes
his way from the tropics of South America to the seat of world power:
Washington, D.C. Throughout the journey, he confronts hypocrites, performs
miracles, and seeks to reconnect Christianity with its radical roots.
“America considers itself a Christian nation, but we embrace - and globally
promote - a ruthless capitalism that is the antithesis of Christ's teaching.
Meanwhile, progressive forces in our country, distrustful of organized
religion, have ceded the entire spiritual realm to crackpots and right-wing
fanatics.”
While the play may sound operatic, even apocalyptic, it is grounded
in the very real politics of today. Juan Gelion targets the growing
disconnect between Christian propaganda and bona fide Christian action;
the disconnect, in Orlando's view, occurring mainly in American government.
But what disturbs Orlando more than leaders espousing Christian cant
to promote their candidacies is how quickly Americans believe it. “Fundamentalism
isn't just in the Mideast, you know.”
Still, politics isn't the only “theatre” of reckoning in Juan Gelion.
Like Christ, Orlando's Gelion is a man more concerned with reaching
individual people, a man whose radical nature - and danger - springs
from how he inspires the people he meets one by one. “There's that great
quote 'before nations change, men must change.' Well, today, people
just seem to be capable of taking any message and using it as a club.”
Distorting it, he says, to oppress others, to foment prejudice, and
most of all to secure their own power. “I have this scene in Juan
Gelion where Juan is being stoned for his beliefs, and in the middle
of it, he catches a stone and turns it into bread and asks the crowd
'Is it a stone or is it bread?' And I think that's the real question
for religion and us. Which one will it be?”