Spotlight.
Andrea Cabrera Luna
INTRODUCTION
Andrea Cabrera Luna is a Mexican-born, Edinburgh-based theatre director, performer, dramaturg and facilitator. Originally from Puebla, she is the Artistic Director of Anahat Theatre, a multicultural devising company creating interdisciplinary performance in Edinburgh. Her practice brings together physical theatre, mime, movement, science and the creative manipulation of objects and materials. Often inspired by absurdity and the complexities of everyday human interaction, Andrea’s work explores imaginative and unconventional approaches to storytelling.
She has worked with organisations including the Royal Lyceum Theatre Edinburgh, Told by an Idiot, Back to Back Theatre, Imaginate, the University of Edinburgh and the University of St Andrews. Her directing and associate-directing credits include The Arsonists, Hotel Juárez, Instructions on How to Cry and The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart.
INTERVIEW
How did you get into your creative practice? What initially inspired you?
My mum encouraged me to do these school poetry recitation contests — basically open mics but organised by the school. I loved being onstage. Then when I turned 17, I joined a drama class at A Trasluz, in a beautiful traditional old house in the centre of my hometown, Puebla, in Mexico. It was the only theatre company I knew at the time. A Cuban director named Willy Cabello led the company. He was known for his incredible magnetism and work ethic. I never actually worked with him or was his student, but his disciples, my teachers, believed actors needed discipline and training before daring to go onstage. The teaching was Mr. Miyagi’s style. We swept the floors, cleaned the toilets. Theatre was considered sacred. This left an indelible mark on me. I then auditioned to study Acting at the National School of Fine Arts in Mexico City. It was incredibly competitive. The building was this brutalist concrete situation, newly designed by some of the hottest Mexican architects. It felt so far away from A Trasluz. A total pipe dream. But I managed to get in.
What themes do you tend to interrogate in your creative practices?
I like a mix of themes: power dynamics, science, injustice, ridiculousness, pettiness, life disappointment, and unmet expectations.
At the moment, I’m developing Chairs, a dance theatre performance about anticipation, loneliness, and accumulation. It starts from something very ordinary: waiting for someone to arrive. A guest, a friend. The chairs are there, filling the absence and holding the expectation of possibility. It explores the excitement, the stress and the desire to be accepted. The fear of loneliness. Through repetition, accumulation, and absurdity, a couple of performers slowly fill the space with empty chairs. The image is tremendous and by the way I didn’t come up with it. The performance is loosely based or rather nicked from Eugene Ionesco who, like me, was an immigrant. He knew how lonely it can be to be different.
Within Chairs, there’s other stuff too, like gender binaries and the roles we’re expected to fulfil. One of the characters is a janitor who hires a speaker to deliver a message they feel unable to deliver themselves. The expert ends up speaking gibberish. You get the idea; it’s about the power we hand over to “experts” simply because they appear to know better.
What is your favourite project you’ve ever worked on and why?
My current project, Chairs, is my favourite so far. It mixes dance, theatre and mime and object manipulation. I was lucky enough to receive support from Imaginate last year, and we began the R&D process. Testing ideas with a range of contemporary dancers has been super exciting. Thanks to artistic director Joan Clevillé’s generosity, I spent time at Scottish Dance Theatre. Working with dancers of such calibre and seeing them respond to the material in different ways, gave me a bigger palette.
I’ve worked with director Paul Hunter (of Told by an Idiot) a number of times and he said to me: “generate as many ideas as you can with different performers”. I draw a lot of inspiration from John Wright too. Like Paul and John, I bring provocations and prompts into the room rather than prescribe everything. John describes this as putting performers “in the shit” — placing them in situations where uncertainty generates play. Misinterpreting a provocation can be very rich. If you work with someone who doesn’t get the joke, it can be brutal but if you find performers who are willing to play with limited information and respond positively, you’ve hit the jackpot. You and your performers need to be willing to fall on your face and remain optimistic. A bit like Stan Laurel. That’s when the work gets really juicy.
What advice would you have for creatives of colour looking to get into your creative practices?
Don’t be afraid to apply for the best opportunities and the most prestigious companies and schools. If you admire a company or a director, find out how to connect with them and ask for a job. Yes, it’s daunting but the right person might say yes.
Don’t be surprised by rejection. There’ll be plenty of it. Lots of elbowing you aside. It’s not your imagination! Cry. Hide under the sheets for a whole day, but the next day get back in the saddle. Don’t wait for that call offering you a job. Create your own opportunities. American Director Ann Bogart once said to me: “just get together with a friend and make a play”. Go to the theatre! The National Theatre of Scotland and the Traverse have cheap tickets you can sign up to on their websites.
Do your research. Learn who’s who. Don’t be afraid to approach theatres and arts organisations. Most people whose job it is to support artists need (desperately) to meet artists of colour like you. A chat can be terrifying, but those conversations can only take you closer to where you want to be. Every conversation is another way of refusing to let yourself be forgotten, filed away or kept out of the room.
You’ll attend a thousand events where you’ll be the only person of colour in the room. You’ll think this isn’t for you. You’ll feel (and be) misunderstood. Or even worse, misrepresented. Keep showing up. STAY POSITIVE. Accept praise. Love what you do. Love yourself. Miniaturise the inner critic. Surround yourself with people who value your ideas. Stay away from people who think your ideas are sh*t. Ideas are all we have.
And if you’re in Edinburgh and you haven’t joined EPAD’s mailing list yet, what are you waiting for? They’re the best, and they’ll offer expert advice, co-working days and soup.