The joyful new stage of our existence!

Text by Silvia Netedu, a dear old friend of the Reactor, written at the end of the workshop Framework: Gaps, at the close of 2020.

Cover photo: Roland Váczi, for the Temps d’Images Festival, 2016 

During the pandemic. Yes, we are indeed in a pandemic. I still feel reality updating itself every single time I say that out loud! We are spinning our lives in an artificial safety net woven by the fragile internet. We snuggle in our little bubbles, completely certain that the internet—or rather, our connection—will always be there to keep us company.

About five years ago, a friend told me how, during a study trip to Turkey, he witnessed state-managed internet jamming. I didn't search for all the details, but I know it had also happened years before during a protest in Taksim Square. Yet, despite every attempt to cut off communication with the outside world, videos, photos, and even a delightfully shaky live stream leaked out daily from that corner of the world. Still, we couldn't quite choose what to watch or how to talk to each other; they simply gave us a charming illusion of control from a distance.

On a much cozier, everyday level, whenever we lose our connection for various, usually temporary, reasons, everything comes to a halt. In the end, I truly believe there is nothing available to everyday people that can quite replace the magical feeling of presence! Even though, throughout the pandemic, we tried all sorts of clever methods—from cardboard cutouts in stadiums and window visits to canned laughter for empty-studio shows and countless Zoom sessions (all while wondering, "Where on earth did Skype go?").

Despite all the challenges of being apart, the wonderful world of art adapted beautifully, using both familiar and sparkling new mediums all over the world. The grand universe of the internet was flooded with archive recordings, exciting live streams, plays lovingly crafted for the digital screen or adapted to be enjoyed online, virtual exhibitions, cozy workshops, and inspiring conferences!

Since the start of quarantine, I've tried to juggle that classic FOMO (fear of missing out) with organizing the ever-growing buffet of wonderful online shows. Choosing what to watch is never easy, and it quickly became a very personal journey! Influenced by my move abroad, my initial excitement was all about seeing what "the folks back home" were up to. Since there's never quite enough time to see absolutely everything, I chose with my heart. The list stayed wonderfully long, with Romanian artists working just as hard as the rest of the world to stay connected with their beloved audience. My own social bubbles definitely played a part, and I happily chose to tune into the Reactor shows and the Political Theatre Season, along with other independent projects that caught my eye.

The digital ticket stubs have blurred together a bit, so I can't recall which online show was my very first, but I remember feeling a flutter of nerves and a deep longing—and my first reaction was actually a bit hesitant! A brand-new form of theatre or just a quick, clever adaptation? These were the two poles where I tried to place the online theatre experience. I kept watching, almost as if viewing a fascinating documentary—something distant and exclusive, happening over there rather than right in front of me. I must admit, I deeply miss the physical presence of a live performance! Feeling the collective gasp of the crowd, seeing the actors breathe, sharing the same physical space, and enjoying that post-show chatter buzzing with the energy of the stage. I never dreamed of watching plays on a laptop, but this pandemic isn't about our wishes; to me, it's about adaptation and beautiful community. And since we've already mastered adapting, our next exciting adventure is defining community in this brand-new space!

I debated with myself for nearly a week about whether to sign up for a workshop, when I could have just kept happily watching plays on my own. But that's exactly where my need for community stepped in! The very same warmth that drew me to see what "the folks back home" were doing guided me straight to Framework. I wanted so much to chat with a lively group of people who share my passions, gathered around the cozy, familiar space of Reactor, sharing moments we experienced together—just like we did during the very first year of Framework!

Even though from registration to the grand finale I spent much of my time interacting online with "the folks back home," every single session of looking at windows filled with passionate, familiar faces filled me with joy! The Framework journey took me on a beautiful emotional ride—watching performances, discussing them with the brilliant minds behind them, exploring different ways of making theatre, and diving into multiple approaches to current events. Together, we playfully examined HOW we think about the world around us. We worked with memory and fine-tuned our sense of tolerance. We looked at our privileges, discovered wonderful things about other generations, challenged our assumptions, and embraced change. We held a virtual "mug of water" in our hands, carrying it to its destination with a beautiful balance of critical thinking and warm empathy.

Through each performance, we looked as if through a window into current realities, peer into both familiar and faraway spaces. We looked horizontally and vertically at the generations shining on stage, and we happily recognized our own little quirks, joys, and memories in the actors' lines. With every new perspective on intimacy and public space, I felt a wonderful new place taking shape—a place I can always return to for fresh inspiration. The technological framework, now sitting comfortably in our daily lives, was playfully taken apart and examined, all in the wonderful hope of finding a shared space for past and future generations where dialogue and patience can truly thrive!

We compared different ways of crafting a show and learned fascinating historical contexts of dramatic forms, all in search of our own perspective on online performance today. For me, Framework was less about finding set-in-stone answers and much more about understanding the vibrant social context of these plays and how we connect with them today from the comfort of our screens, across the miles.

I fondly remember that in the very first Framework I joined, we talked about what community means and the various circles we belong to—and now, a few years later, we are joyfully redefining them once again! Adaptation is a beautiful, ongoing journey; we just notice it much more during challenging times when creativity floats up like a bright, colorful lifebuoy in an ocean of the unknown.

I am so incredibly grateful to everyone who logged on to each session and sparked a bright new perspective in my mind. I came away with a lovely desire to explore my roots, look back at my memories with extra warmth, and eagerly ask myself where I want to stand in this exciting new present.