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By Covi Loveridge Brannan  As I write to you from a small nature reserve in the Atlantic Rainforest of Brazil, I find my mind aflutter with semi-formed thoughts. It is hard to recall any place more spectacular than the one I am currently spending my time in. I’ve seen bioluminescent mushrooms decorate the nocturnal forest floor; I’ve fallen into a pond searching for tree frogs no bigger than my thumb; I’ve seen a butterfly fall fast asleep perched upside-down. Here in the southwest of São Paulo state, I’m surrounded by locals who know the rainforest by birth, and biologists who know it through extensive study. Even the other volunteers — nature photographers, biology students, cannabis growers — seem eco-experts through my novice eyes. I try to shrug off the feeling of imposter syndrome as I respond (in heavily-accented Portuguese) to the seemingly simple question of what I do outside of this isolated, natural paradise: “Eu sou atriz”. “I am an actress” is a gross simplification of what I do. If I were able to articulate myself properly, I would explain that, in addition to performing, I also write plays, and produce them, that I have a masters degree, that I consider myself a real-New-York-theatre-professional. I would go on to explain that for the past few years I’ve been interested in this thing called “eco-theatre” and getting some hands-on experience at Instituto de Pesquisa da Biodiversidade seemed like a great way to give myself some credibility when it comes to the “eco” part. Behind all these accreditations and explanations, however, the truth is — despite all my post-graduate studies, despite all I’ve accomplished so far — I came here searching for the answer to a deceivingly simple question: “How do I do this?”. When you get into theatre, whether as a kid or an adult, the phrase “use what you know” is often repeated by your teachers. Theatre artists are storytellers above all else, so what better “way in” than to share with the audience what you yourself have experienced. Somehow, through trial and error and tricks of the imagination, “using what you know” becomes enough to embody Shakespearean fairies, Australian war lieutenants, and post-apocalyptic aristocrats. You can extrapolate what you know so far as to write plays about human-ghost romance, self-help cults championed by John Denver, suburban housewives succumbing to Cold War paranoia, or closeted, 20th century lesbians. Yet somehow, when it comes to talking about nature, about the Climate crisis, about why it matters to care for the soil and plants and animals that keep us alive, your mind draws a blank. A judge creeps into your inner monologue and chuckles, “Who are you kidding, Covi? You don’t know anything”. I know this isn’t true, but a lot of the time it feels true. What is it about nature that feels so foreign to my 21st century person? The truth is, consumerism, capitalism, conololism, and white supremacy have spent over a century ensuring this is so. Teaching inhabitants of Western Civilization that to be close to nature is to be “uncivilized” or “barbaric” is a key tenant of justifying the exploitation of peoples and extraction of resources that have allowed our modern day society to reach this point of industrialization. I know the history of this lie, I know the deception which has taken place, yet somehow, emotionally, I still fall for the trick. The more I think about how divorced I feel from nature, the more infuriated I get at the conditions that have made it so — the more I feel like a teenager, filled to the brim with passion, emboldened to rebel against the lies society taught me. I want to scream it in the streets and share it in my songs — well, plays — lest future generations be subjected to the same untruths I was. And so, I continue the task of reclaiming my proximity to nature. For me, that could mean something as “exotic” as digging through Brazilian bird poop looking for fruit seeds (in the name of science), or as close to home as feeling the sand between my toes on a Southern California beach. As I investigate this relationship, I do my best to share as I go. I have yet to write my first “eco-play,” whatever that means… I’m much too scared. But in the end, aren’t we all part of the same global ecosystem as the butterflies and the sandcrabs and the seedlings? Why should my story be so different from their story? Why should any of ours be? Covi Loveridge is an actress, playwright, creative producer based out of NYC and LA. As a practitioner, Covi is committed to producing and pursuing sustainable and eco-socially conscious work. She believes human stories and ecological stories are intertwined and values work that embraces this shared legacy of life on Earth. 
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 By Covi Loveridge Brannan In Fall of 2020, I had the opportunity to research arts organizations engaging in sustainable artmaking as part of Agenda: Communicating the Arts’ inaugural 30 Under 30 initiative. My research partner, Anna Aglietta, and I had a wonderful time speaking with eco-art makers all over our assigned region of North America. This week, I am super excited to introduce 5 of these fabulous companies to you! One note before we start: not all of these companies self-identify as “eco-theatre” companies, however, they were selected based on their being performing or multi-disciplinary arts groups which engage deeply with the existential threat of climate change and other socio-ecological issues which their communities face. And we’re off…. ONE: Superhero Clubhouse
TWO:
Dancing Earth Creations
THREE: The Arctic Cycle
FOUR: Art At Work presents MAINEUSA
FIVE: EcoArts Foundation
I hope you enjoyed learning about these fabulous companies as much as I did! Stay tuned for more lists of arts organizations fighting for ecological justice through the power of performance. By Covi Loveridge Brannan  In February of 2020, American Theatre Magazine released a special issue entirely devoted to the topic of theatre and climate change. The articles discuss the ways in which theatre-making can help upset existing power structures, uplift marginalized voices, and envision paths for the future. As Lanxing Fu and Jeremy Piccard, co-Artistic Directors of Brooklyn based company Superhero Clubhouse, state in their article A Climate of Change, “Functioning as a microcosm of society, theatre is uniquely positioned to create the cultural conditions needed for alternative structures of power and economies to thrive. And because the climate crisis demands change at every level, every theatre-maker can participate by shifting our practices to center climate justice in our work, regardless of the content of what’s onstage”. But how do we do this? While creatives usually leap at a challenge, the task of pivoting to a climate just practice can seem particularly difficult to take on. From my perspective, this difficulty stems not from disinterest but from not knowing where to start. To take on these new ways of thinking and working, one must let go of past experience and enter into a vulnerable state which is open and receptive to new forms of knowledge. It is hard to be a beginner (especially as a professional practitioner) and even more difficult to undo old habits. The first step, then, is to wrap our heads around what this idea of “eco-theatre” is. With my project, On The Hook: A Climate-Conscious Exploration of Anna Christie, I set out to do just what the title suggests: explore. I am not an expert at this, if anything, I am just a curious artist yearning to make the world a better place. With the current state of our world, taking on a climate-conscious practice seems imperative in working towards a just and sustainable future for all. So, what is “eco-theatre”? When it comes to learning new things, Google is a very useful tool (though I admit that I generally use the decisively less-useful “Ecosia” as my primary search engine, since it plants trees every time I hit 45 searches). Sustainability is a hot topic in nearly every industry, and, in 2020, most adequately-funded cultural institutions are doing their part to “go green” and lower their environmental footprints. Companies like Julie’s Bicycle and Broadway Green Alliance have been doing great work with major theatre institutions to get them on track to “net-zero”, and some smaller theatre companies like Brooklyn-based Superhero Clubhouse and Earth Matters on Stage (EMoS) are taking up the mantle of “eco-theatre”, centering ecology and integrating sustainability in every aspect of what they do. But what does it take to make a theatre production “sustainable”? What qualifies as “eco-theatre”? These words are still new to me, but I am beginning to develop my own understanding. Working "sustainably" in theatre means considering the ecological, carbon, and equity implications during every step of the design, rehearsal, and performance processes. Results of this type of thinking can range from "green theater" practices, such as using LED lighting to save power or thrifted costumes to reduce waste, to adapting rehearsal strategies to better ensure equity and quality of work for those involved. So, is every production which integrates sustainable practices a piece of “eco-theatre”? Not quite. That would probably qualify as “green-washing”, a crime I believe should be penalized by public scorn and hefty fiscal taxation. To be a piece of “eco-theatre”, creators must commit to looking through a very specific dramaturgical lens: one that considers how the piece being performed converses with both environmental and socio-economic concerns. For example, while in his play King Lear, William Shakespeare frequently uses pathetic fallacy, mainly in the form of the great storm personifying the titular character’s mental state, this masterwork is not inherently a work of “eco-theatre”. Yes, in terms of text, the natural environment is directly responding to the human characters and vice versa, yet we have not quite met the eco-theatre benchmark. However, if a particular production of King Lear chose to explore more deeply the characters’ relationships to the natural environment, emphasizing these moments directorially and through design, we are on our way. If the production went a step further, digging into the “man vs. nature” imagery in the text, alluding to the socio-economic implications of King Lear arbitrarily dividing his kingdom between his daughters with no consideration for the impact on his subjects’ livelihoods, and centering the imperialist attitudes and absolute power that monarchs exerted during the late sixteenth century, then we have a piece of “eco-theatre”. “Wait!”, you say, “If that’s all it takes, then nearly every play could become a piece of eco-theatre! Pretty much every great storyteller and playwright has at least considered the relationship between the characters, society, and their environment in some way. You didn’t add anything new; it’s all right there in front of you!” From where I stand, you are absolutely correct. Humanity and their social societies are indivisible from the natural world. Somewhere along the way, Western Civilization sought to separate itself from “nature” and claim their citizens as superior to those considered “closer to nature”. They began to regard natural phenomena as “resources” to be extracted and perceive those who dwelt harmoniously with the Earth as sources of “labor” to be exploited, all of this in the name of “progress”. But, what kind of human progress should we be seeking? Artists have been asking this question from the beginning of society itself. It is up to us as modern theatre practitioners to consider the socio-ecological implications of the work we are exploring, in the name of dramaturgical integrity, truthful storytelling, and out of loyalty to the well-being and advancement of humankind. Covi Loveridge is an actress, playwright, creative producer based out of NYC and LA. As a practitioner, Covi is committed to producing and pursuing sustainable and eco-socially conscious work. She believes human stories and ecological stories are intertwined and values work that embraces this shared legacy of life on Earth.
 Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience
By Yi-Fu Tuan Today’s recommendation synthesizes a few of my areas of interest. As the 25th anniversary edition of this publication, it has already proven influential in multiple fields, including theatre, literature, anthropology, psychology, and theology. I heard about this book from Dr. Elaine James--a Christian scholar whose work focuses on the Hebrew Bible, especially its poetry. I’ve studied questions with her revolving around land, ecology, gender and sexuality. She’s a badass, and learning Hebrew was worth it so I can engage with her grapplings. I’ve studied ecological theology for three years for many reasons, some of which are still a mystery to me! Understanding the histories of interpretation for religious texts (and learning how dominant narratives are constructed and maintained) can transfer into the observation of precedent for environmental law. Developing my inner spiritual compass can help me approach land, a fiercely political topic, with humanity and love. And, of course, a desire to decolonize our minds will brush up against damaging Christian legacies of violent oppression. I’ve learned two tangible languages, Greek and Hebrew, in my graduate studies, but I’ve also gained fluency in our species-wide capacity for ritual and connection to our planet. In this book, Yi-Fu Tuan explores humans’ “exceptionally refined capacity for symbolization.” He asks, “in what ways do people attach meaning to and organize space and place?” For me, some of the most fascinating parts of the book connected to the past. He shares, “In antiquity, land and religion were so closely associated that a family could not renounce one without yielding the other. Exile was the worst of fates, since it deprived a man not only of his physical means of support but also of his religion and the protection of laws guaranteed by the local gods.” I’ve spent hours in the library, reading about meaning-making in antiquity, whether through omens and observation of the natural world, or economics, justice systems, and ethics as they’ve changed over time. Why look to the past if not to provide perspective and critical thinking about our here and now? Are we oriented, as Tuan says, to our surroundings? What does “feeling at home” mean when we are surrounded by collective grief for the impacts of the pandemic? Or ever-increasing numbers of climate refugees, climate-connected illnesses, and deaths? In a book about experiential perspective, Yi-Fu Tuan offers us the opportunity to integrate the experiences of our ancestors into our consciousness now. While reading you will be asked to consider case studies, complex questions, and, as our author beautifully articulates, “things that were once out of focus for us come into focus.” Quote: “Human beings, like other animals, feel at home on earth. We are, most of the time, at ease in our part of the world. Life in its daily round is thoroughly familiar. Skills once learned are as natural to us as breathing. Above all, we are oriented. This is a fundamental source of confidence.”  Freedom Farmers: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement
By Monica M. White I share these book recommendations on a schedule, I’ve been told, that no one is possibly following except for me. I read really fast. Thank you, grad school. So, you may see this title as you are scrolling through the gallery of other titles I’ve read, or months from now in a quiet moment. I’ll let you in on the secret that I plan the timing of when I share books with intention. Our author, Monica M. White, is an activist and urban ethnographer of the food justice-urban agriculture movement in Detroit since 2007, where she has worked with others to transform and rebuild a financially devastated city. She described this book as a love letter. She said it “feels like love--never easy, but worth it.” February can get a lot of hype around a certain kind of love, and I wanted to add her labor of love into the mix. In January, I took a class called Land, Food, and the Black Church with Rev. Dr. Heber Brown III. Freedom Farmers was one of our textbooks. As I approached the text this month to write this blurb, I had the joy of hearing some of the sections in his charismatic voice. These are not just words on a page anymore. They’re connected to conversations and stories that I hold with reverence from that zoom room. Here’s a few of the central concepts for you to sample: “Collective agency, a concept that I coined based upon the data for this project, involves social actors’ ability to create and enact behavioral options necessary to affect their political future.” “Community resilience, a subcategory within the burgeoning field of resilience science, refers to the various structural aspects and components of human adaptation to extreme adversity, using ‘community’ as the unit of analysis.” “Prefigurative politics begins with the awareness that members of a group have been excluded from the political process.” The book itself is full of rich stories. As the author puts it, “This book is an effort to recover, tell, and honor the stories of collective agency and community resilience of the black rural poor, a group the civil rights movement left behind.” It is also intended to “connect contemporary urban farmer-activists to an earlier time when African Americans turned to agriculture as a strategy for building sustainable communities.” I’d recommend this read to anyone with an interest in food justice, especially if you’re not sure where to start. I’d also recommend it to seasoned practitioners who are looking for a source of wisdom to fill their cup and reinvigorate their efforts. So, really, when it comes down to it, I’m recommending this book to everyone yet again. Because it’s fantastic and should be shared! Quote: “If pain was all there was, how can we explain the indigenous roots of the current urban farming movement--spearheaded by black people? If pain was all there was, why should black people voluntarily return to a form of work that produced exploitation and oppression--so much so that it forced people to flee from the South?” Join the discussion in The Kaleidoscapes Commons.  One Earth: People of Color Protecting Our Planet By Anuradha Rao This recommendation is friendly for younger readers (12+), and all people who would like to learn about 20 different BIPOC environmental defenders. Written in the style of short, picture-filled interviews, reading feels as though you’ve been invited to a party with some of the coolest people around. I was delighted to find a chapter about Nana Firman, a coworker from an awesome organization where I’m currently participating in a fellowship. Of course, it’s important to remember that “the people in this book don’t represent all the people from their nations, ethnicities or cultures. They spoke to me about themselves, their own experiences, and events as they recalled them.” You’ll be introduced to activists from all over the world! Get your own copy of One Earth or ship it to your friend or family member as a surprise! Here’s a short clip of the author, Anuradha Rao, speaking about One Earth: People of Color Protecting Our Planet  The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America
By Richard Rothstein In honor of the US inauguration week, I’ve chosen The Color of Law as our recommended book. Because while it is a knee jerk response for many United Statesians to claim “we are better than the last four years,” I find it most patriotic to unflinchingly approach and challenge the anti-Black legacy of legislation that has shaped the country we live in today. As Rothstein puts it, “racially explicit government policies to segregate our metropolitan areas are not vestiges, were neither subtle nor intangible, and were sufficiently controlling to construct the de jure segregation that is now with us in neighborhoods and hence in schools. The core argument of this book is that African Americans were unconstitutionally denied the means and the right to integration in middle-class neighborhoods, and because this denial was state-sponsored, the nation is obligated to remedy it.” This book delivers a powerful message: segregation was not created by accident or by prejudiced individuals. It will not be reversed by accident or “in some mysterious way, by changes in people’s hearts.” We need equally aggressive policies to the ones adopted by federal, state and local governments in the first place. Rothstein concludes the book with a collection of possible remedies and the reminder that “we will have to contemplate what we have collectively done and, on behalf of the government, accept responsibility.” A powerful and important read! Quote: “Half a century ago, the truth of de jure segregation was well known, but since then we have suppressed our historical memory and soothed ourselves into believing that it all happened by accident or by misguided private prejudice. "
Claire Taylor: Stephanie, what is your background and what are you studying right now?
Stephanie Marquez: I am currently attending DePaul University, working to receive my Bachelors in Media Communication and Minor in Graphic Design. While my background is specialized in Marketing. CT: What excites you about marketing and media? SM: Marketing helps ensure that there is an intersection between demand and innovation. It leads to identifying opportunities that people or organizations want resolved and will work towards an appealing solution. CT: And what interests you about working with The Kaleidoscapes? SM: The Kaleidoscapes Eco-Theatre Company is a welcoming nontraditional space that stands by solutions to the climate crisis and innovative ways to experientially teach others about open dialogue between our natural world and its inhabitants. The Kaleidoscapes staff and Co-Founders encourage me to voice my concerns on how to serve and protect our earth. To create a sense of environmental responsibility to the land that is our shared home. CT: Why is environmental justice important to you? SM: Environmental justice is important to me, due to the fact that I advocate the right to a safe environment as an essential part of fundamental human needs. No group of people should bear a disproportionate share of the negative environmental consequences resulting from governmental and commercial operations or policies. CT: What have you learned so far, and what are you excited to learn more about? SM: What I have learned so far is, the public’s contributions can influence positive change. The community’s concerns and involvement will considerably affect the grand picture. I am interested in creating innovative solutions. CT: What else should people know about you? SM: The Kaleidoscapes has gifted me with a creative space that allows me to speak about matters that I deem important and seek to inspire others to follow.  Today, I’m enthusiastically recommending two, fantastic new releases. They were actually published 10 days apart from one another during November of this year.
Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Animals By Alexis Pauline Gumbs The first, Undrowned, was released after the author, Alexis Pauline Gumbs, followed her own curiosity on a deep dive about marine mammals. As she says, “I just wanted to know which whale was which, but I found myself confronted with the colonial, racist, sexist, heteropatriachalizing capitalist constructs that are trying to kill me--the net I am already caught in, so to speak.” She began with daily social media posts, sharing her learnings and reflections, and then this book was dreamed into being. Her writing is bold, poetic, full of social commentary, and creatively nonfiction. It was also released as a part of the Emergent Strategy Series (one of our reads from adrienne maree brown earlier this year). I was completely immersed in this book, and I found the wisdom in its pages to be subversive, wonderfully queer, and full of love for our underwater relatives. In describing her writing process, Gumbs says, “As I learned more about marine mammals, I learned to look between the loopholes of language, using the poetic practices I have had to use to find and love myself in a world that misnames me daily.” I cannot recommend this read highly enough. Do yourself a favor and get a copy! Lighting the Way: An Anthology of Short Plays About the Climate Crisis Edited by Chantal Bilodeau and Thomas Peterson The second book for today, found here (or at Barnes & Noble or Amazon) is a collection of 49 short plays by writers all over the world for the 2019 Climate Change Theatre Action, a global distributed theatre festival that coincided with the 25th United Nations Conference of the Parties (COP 25) held in Madrid, Spain under the presidency of the Chilean government. The writing prompt was to “give center stage to the unsung climate warriors and climate heroes who are lighting the way toward a just and sustainable future.” Whether you are a teacher, theatre artist, or eco-theatre lover like me who has lots of respect for The Arctic Cycle, these plays are a fantastic source of inspiration, imagination and courageous storytelling about climate. One thing I miss as the pandemic wears on is the sensation of sitting in a blackout right before a play starts--with people on either side of me, waiting in anticipation for what might unfold. Reading this book was the first time I had felt an echo of that feeling in many months. I especially loved hearing about the design concepts or “ecoscenography” in an introductory essay by Triga Creative. Thank you to all of the contributing playwrights, the 3,046 artists, organizers and activists who created the performances in the CCTA 2019, and especially to Chantal Bilodeau and Thomas Peterson for helping us witness the impact of this event after the fact. I bought this one as a gift to myself for the holidays, and reading it by the fire is an activity I would 5/5 recommend. To learn more about our Book Club, please join The Kaleidoscapes Commons or email gail@thekaleidoscapes.org.
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