Dear Friends of the Fabulations French Language Theater,

First, we would like to express our sincere appreciation for all of you who joined us during the French Theater Festival of Portland festivities. It was our pleasure to be able to put a smile on your face. We were delighted to see so many of you together, spending time and sharing laughter with your family and friends.

You have heavily contributed to the success of our event! While contributing to make this year festival an incredible event, you are also helping us accomplish our goal, to introduce a new form of theater in the Portland Metro Area, to create a new type of French Language educational tool.

We would like to thank all of the Donors which generous donations go a long way in helping the Fabulations development, more particularly our season’s donor Saint Honoré Bakery. Our thanks also go to the Petite Provence Bakery, La Brasserie Montmartre, the Alliance Française de Portland, and to the Northwest Children’s Theater and School for letting us using their spaces for the various performances.

We thank our Local Media Organizations as well, for helping us advertise and promote the festival. Your coverage of Fabulations events helped bring folks to the Festival from all over Oregon.

Please forward our appreciations to your family and friends not on this mailing list who also spent the First French Theater Festival of Portland with us. We hope to see you again! Please write to us should you have any inquiries. We are always delighted to meet new friends! If you are interested in our organization, please visit our website www.fabulations.org .

All of this would not be possible without you - thank you.

Best,

Jane Fabulet-Roberts & Carine Zimber
Co-directors of Fabulations

Yuko Hardy, one of our great Fabulations' supporter gave the writing contest "le concours international des 10 mots de la francophonie" a try. Thank you Yuko for your participation.
Enjoy her lovely story!

Depuis décembre 2011, nous avons deux chats, dont les noms sont Milk et Kuro, une poule et un hamster. Nous avons accueilli un chaton de S.P.A. (Société Protectrice des Animaux), comme cadeau d’anniversaire pour notre fils. Il fallut attendre plus de douze mois pour l’adopter, par conséquence, son visage s’est épanoui quand Kuro, qui était tout à fait calme pendant les transports, est arrivé chez nous. En fait, toute ma famille a un penchant pour les chats, donc c’est vraiment naturel pour lui de demander un chat. J’ai songé que notre vieille chatte Milk aurait pris soin de Kuro, mais ce fȗt le cas contraire. Autrement dit, je n’ai pas bien cerné son caractère, bien que nous l’ayons eu pendant trois ans. Nous ne pouvons pas confier le chaton à Milk. L’ouistiti, comme nous l’appelons de temps en temps, et Milk, ils ne sont, malheureusement, pas des amis de palier. Kuro a l’âme en peine parce qu’il n’est pas l’ami de Milk. Cette situation est unsupportable. Si la méfiante changeait d’attitude pour lui, l’ouistiti écouterait une histoire stupéfiant, épanouie ou à la noix de Milk. 

The official International French Week has started last week. We kicked off the First French Theatre Festival with "Séraphine" on Saturday at the Northwest Children Theatre. It was attended by 35 people who had heard from us through the Oregonian, the schools where we teach, the Alliance Française... and we had refreshments (Chouquettes by St Honoré Bakery).
Then, Carole presented a Storytime at the Provence Bakery which was attended by about 15 persons. We drove back to the Brasserie Montmartre to get set up for our two performances ("Lulu" and "Bassinette") which were attended by about 25-30 people. We are very pleased with how everything went so far. But as the audience, all you see is a result. It almost seems effortless...
"Séraphine" was last performed in 2009 and so we had to rehearse a few times to remember the lines, but also our movements, our reactions, finding  the right tempo and emotions, fixing props, ironing clothes and backgrounds. "La leçon de Lulu" has been performed every year at Bastille day but I had to re-adapt it because this was taking place in a restaurant setting, not in the street. Being mostly improvised, it is very different approach but still need preparation. Finally "Bassinette"...We last performed it in February, so it was not too far. My only problem was to get the lines back in my brain. I started to come down with a cold on Sunday. Carole, prepared her storytime by herself mostly and even though it seems like it's nothing, a 45 minutes storytime needs to be well prepared and rehearsed.

Rehearsing used to be one of my favorite part of creating a show and bringing it up to life. The creation process is so interesting. It's where you can improve your craft as an artist, working on your voice, your body, your emotions... I still love it of course because of all of those things. My only problem is finding the time and the energy. Rehearsals are the most important but that's usually where you don't get paid. Not that I do that for money or I would have given up a long time ago! But if you don't get paid, that means, that you rehearsed after hours, on week ends or you take days off because obviously, you need another job. It's hours, and hours of work and actors all over the world do it for free because they believe in a project. I did not have a problem working 3 jobs back in France and finding time and energy to rehearse for free when I believed in a project. My problem now is still not the money (not that I don't need it) but is that logistics is getting harder now: I juggle family life (one 3 years old child and one in the womb, a very supportive husband), my job at the Alliance Française (which I love) and all the things that need to be done at Fabulations. I also somehow try to stay involve with other things too... 
Rehearsing then, is the most time consuming and nevertheless completely necessary thing you have to do! 
So performing 3 shows this week, was 3 times more time finding time....time, time, time... especially, when you have to find a new costume because the second baby on the way wants to fully participate and can't be fully hidden...

We have two more events this week, the open house at l'étoile where Carole will show the work that her class has done during the afterschool classes and the Storytime "L'heure du conte" at the Alliance. But our work is not done, we have a new show to rehearse and more that we want to do. We can still do free rehearsals but we need support for materials and support to help us grow (it's not only money, well it helps but it's also just coming to see us, liking us on Facebook, getting involved by contacting us and see how you can help)

Thank you to all our team, Carine, Carole and Marc for giving their time and energy.
AND THANK YOU for all of you who came and supported us! We appreciating it and that's why we want to continue to bring French Theatre to Portland and around because we believe in our mission.

Jane

Next week, our family minus dad will be embarking aboard an Air France plane, destination Montpellier, France. That means that for the 15-hour trip, I will be managing and entertaining a thankfully rather mellow 4 year-old and a chatty 20-month-old “lap” toddler.

I’ve rehearsed the scenario many times in my head and pray that things will go according to plan. Here’s my vision:

-Portland-Atlanta, 4 ½ hour flight: After a last diaper change and forced bathroom break despite my son’s vehement “I don’t need to, my body tells me so,” we embark during what normally would be our naptime.  After takeoff when Oliver gets to chew on a piece of gum and Clarisse nurses contently, they both manage to fall asleep and I too, squeeze-in a catnap. When they wake up, happy and rested, I have delicious, nutritious and out of the ordinary snacks for them. Oliver keeps himself busy with a simple game on my computer while I read to Clarisse. We land.

-Atlanta-Paris, 8 ½ hour flight:  We have time to run around, get our blood flowing and grab some dinner during our short layover. A last diaper change/pee-pee break (again with great protest) we embark on the second plane. We settle down, chew gum/nurse for takeoff. I pull out new games (a brand new travel puzzle for Ollie, a doodle pad for Clarisse) and keep happily busy until dinner is served. After a non-stressful, perfectly non-messy and delicious meal, we make ourselves comfortable for a short night sleep. The kids fall asleep immediately sharing a seat, and I even get to watch a newly released, barely edited rom-com before catching a snooze myself. Soon it is breakfast time and we’re almost ready to land in Paris.

-Paris-Montpellier, 1 ½ hour flight: We’re on French land. The airport signs are in French, I read kilometers and kilograms, home sweet home! We go through customs “rien à déclarer.” The children get to run around under the disapproving glance of some old French man. We buy a pain au chocolat and an espresso, make another round to the bathroom (for which I have to pay half a euro,) and it’s time to embark on the last leg of our trip. The kids are a little sluggish and the novelties I brought along are not so new and interesting anymore, but my wonderful little ones still manage to behave nicely and the hour trip flies by (no pun intended.) We land in Montpellier on a beautiful, warm sunny spring day in the South of France and grandma Mamita welcomes us with a teary happy smile and open arms. We made it!

Now, as I mentioned earlier, this is my well-rehearsed vision. Stay tuned for the reality of what will unfold, next week.


Carine

Two weeks ago, Carine mentioned a writing contest in celebration of the International Francophone Week. She first put pen to paper to produce a fantastic text about her childhood. The next week, Jane gave it a try too and transported us to the cosy romantic city of Venice.  This week, my turn to give it a shot! Remember the rules?  Narrate in less than 2000 characters a vacation memory, imperatively using these 10 words: autrement – âme – songe – transports – histoire – chez – confier – naturel – penchant – caractère. So here we go.

    Tous les enfants n’ont pas la chance d’avoir grandi à deux pas de l’océan. Profiter de la plage et des embruns sans pour autant quitter le confort de son chez-soi. La beauté de la côte en été, le phare à la nuit tombée et le soleil rouge, penchant dangereusement au-dessus de la mer à chaque crépuscule.
    Malgré ces satisfactions qui font l’âme de notre région, c’est toujours à cette saison que nous pliions bagages et partions pour nos vacances annuelles. Quitter la Vendée, le quotidien et la foule de parisiens descendus piquer une tête, histoire de s’oxygéner. 
    Bien sûr, avant d’arriver en terre promise, généralement un petit coin de France sélectionné selon le naturel de son environnement, de longues heures de route attendaient notre  fratrie. Assis sur nos  sièges inconfortables, cherchant tant bien que mal des occupations, ces temps de confinement dans l’habitacle du véhicule produisirent au final des souvenirs indélébiles.
    Je donnais généralement le ton : mon imagination débordante requérait l’attention des autres. Commençaient alors des jeux où chaque situation ou question veillait à tromper l’ennui. Parfois, des chants appris à l’école envahissaient la voiture, plongeant mon père dans les songes profonds de son enfance. Par temps gris, les courses de gouttes sur les vitres trempées par la pluie avaient beaucoup de succès. Et quelques fois, en bravant avec patience les files interminables des transports coincés dans les embouteillages, des secrets venaient à être échangés: partager nos idées, confier nos rêves, nos projets.
    Il était par instant difficile de supporter le caractère des autres. Des chamailleries éclataient tel l'orage, pouvant entraîner jusqu’à un arrêt soudain sur le bas-côté. « On se calme maintenant. Autrement… on rentre à la maison ! ». Des menaces en l’air qui savaient pourtant nous remettre à notre place.
    Et bien que de retour au calme, nous bouillions intérieurement d'impatience. Conscients que nous nous apprêtions à vivre des instants de vies inoubliables.

Carole

In Carine's last posts she mentioned a writing contest in celebration of the International Francophone Week: narrate in less than 2000 characters a vacation memory, imperatively using these 10 words: autrement – âme – songe – transports – histoire – chez – confier – naturel – penchant – caractère.
As Carine, I don't fit the age requirement either to enter the contest but we decided that it would be fun if all our team was pretending entering the contest.

Je me sens comme un auteur devant sa page blanche à la différence seule que j'ai 10 mots devant moi. Je repense à l'histoire de Carine et j'ai beau chercher, aucun souvenir de mon enfance ne vient m'inspirer. Je relis cette première ligne et surprise, j'ai déjà utilisé un mot. Je relis les 10 mots à utiliser et il n'y a rien à faire aucun souvenir personnel ne vient à mon aide. En revanche, mon naturel penchant pour la Commedia dell'arte  et certains de ces 10 mots me font alors voyager vers des personnages aux caractères stéréotypés mais si humains. Je me vois déjà chez Pantalone à écouter entre deux portes, j'aperçois Colombine confier à Arlequin le dernier songe de sa jeune maîtresse et Arlequin raconter les transports amoureux de Léandre pour Isabelle. Je me ballade dans le jardin de la maison du Dottore, et je vois Polichinelle, l'âme en peine, lire la lettre de refus que Colombine lui a écrite. Un bruit me fait sursauter, je sors de mes rêveries italiennes et je relis mon paragraphe. Je compte les mots: neuf! Encore un à utiliser mais autrement, j'ai fini! HA! Ca y est! J'ai fini! Finalement, en relisant encore une fois, je me rends compte que tout ce paragraphe me rappelle les deux voyages que j'ai eu la chance de faire en Italie. Je me souviens de me perdre délicieusement un matin très tôt dans les ruelles désertes de Venise à la recherche de la maison d'enfance de Carlo Goldoni.


Ecrit par Jane 

In my last post I mentioned a writing contest in celebration of the International Francophone Week: narrate in less than 2000 characters a vacation memory, imperatively using these 10 words: autrement – âme – songe – transports – histoire – chez – confier – naturel – penchant – caractère.
Well, I don't fit the age requirement to enter the contest (let's just say I am not considered a youth anymore and people call me ma'am,) but I still had fun playing around with words. Here's the result:


C'était ma première colo. Nous étions à Koumac tout au nord du Caillou. Le souvenir des premiers jours est désormais un songe lointain, une histoire un peu floue d'espionnage nocturne, de chansons entêtantes, de béguin d'enfant, de jeux de chasse, constructions en papier mâché, guirlandes de couleur.
Je me souviens surtout d'un matin. Nous nous étions réveillés dans un monde de silence. Dehors, pas un bruit, les cigales s'étaient tues, les oiseaux aussi, pas une âme qui pipait, le temps soudainement suspendu, le sentiment de quelque chose de pas du tout naturel.
Puis, imperceptiblement d'abord, un bruissement avait parcouru le feuillage des grands arbres, comme une caresse douce et chaude dans l'humidité du matin. La caresse s'était affirmée, prenant le caractère d'une main géante qui balayait les larges palmiers, ébouriffait les feuilles des niaoulis et des flamboyants, malmenait même les banians géants.
Vite, on nous avait ramenés à l'intérieur de la grande bâtisse. D'un coup, la pluie était tombée, des gouttes énormes qui martelaient le toit de tôle, se déchainaient contre les carreaux des fenêtres, creusaient des torrents dans les sentiers qu'autrement nos pieds battaient en nuages de poussière rouge.
La nuit était tombée, en plein après-midi. Nous nous occupions entre jeux de cartes, rondes et chants. La lumière jaune de la grande salle s'était soudain éteinte: panne d'électricité. Ce soir-là nous avions diné à la chandelle. Puis dans la nuit, un arbre s'était abattu sur la fenêtre de notre dortoir. Vite, vite nous avions déménagé chez les monos, oreiller sous le bras. Le lendemain, la vie avait repris son cours: les oiseaux piaillaient à tue-tête, vacarme joyeux et incessant. Le cyclone était parti.
Nous, nous allions reprendre les transports, rentrer chez nous, confier à nos parents que oui ils nous avaient un peu manqué tout de même.
Et moi, depuis ce jour, j'ai gardé un petit penchant tendre pour les tempêtes et les cyclones, souvenir de ma première colo.

March 17 to March 25, millions of French speaking people around the globe will come together to celebrate the French language and francophone cultures for the 15th annual “Fête de la Francophonie.”

For the occasion, the French organization AFAL (Association Francophone d'Amitié et de Liaison) launched a writing contest: le concours international des 10 mots de la francophonie.

Librarians and young adults (18-25) from around the world are encouraged to share a vacation memory in French incorporating this year's 10 words: autrement – âme – songe – transports – histoire – chez – confier – naturel – penchant – caractère.

A panel of writers, journalists and linguists among others will be judging the entries. The best texts will be published in an anthology.

You have until March 20th to submit your entries, so get to your pens (or keyboard) and pass the word around!

Visit www.concoursdes10mots.fr to enter the contest or for more information.

By now, you've probably read the article published in the Wall Street Journal a few days ago with the sensational title Why French Parents are Superior. We discussed it at length with friends over hot chicken wings during Super Bowl Sunday: it was a debate as juicy as the wings and it brought up endless anecdotes and even more parenting stereotypes.

When Pamela Druckerman in her article opposed the “French patience” vs the “American instant gratification,” I immediately thought of Françoise Dolto, the renown (at least in France) baby and early childhood psychoanalyst, and of something I had read a while back in a collection of articles and conference transcripts titled Tout est langage.

Dolto was bringing up the concept of need versus desire, and how it is our role as parents to satisfy our children's needs but not necessarily their desires. Her argument is that desires are important to children, but rather than indulging these desires with instant gratification, there is much more benefit in delaying their fulfillment, if at all. Instead, Dolto argues, valorizing the desire by talking about it, discussing it, sharing in the daydream is what brings the true and lasting gratification to the child. It is not so much the fulfillment of their desires that children seek, but rather the opportunity to connect. Furthermore, she says, it is the unfulfilled desire that helps the child grow, and it is the same unfulfilled desire that shapes itself into creativity and invention.

Could it be, then, that learning patience, rather than being a French thing, is nothing more than accepting no for an answer and making the best of it? 

Carine