Friday. September 24. im

SCARLET AND BLACK

Page 111!

 

j/tmz‘jtc
Mad/ta,

by harlequin

The theatre is composed of
many parts—all equally impor-
tant—but some are less apparent
than others to the audience. Make-
up is generally one of these hidden
arts. The artists who pmVlde the
faces for the actors seldom a-
chieve a recognition beyond the
theatre arts world.

Make-up originated in the prim.
itive ritual, with magic symbolism
at prime importance. The mask
and decorated body were used to
irighten devils, invoke the gods,
or represent natural forces. In ad-
dition, the primitive wished to
conceal his identity, which might
affect the magic. The grotesque
symbolism became more refined
as society became more complex;
the Greeks and Chinese reduced
it to a disguised representation of
conventional characters. Through
the ages, these conventions
changed in form, but remained

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purely representative. it was not
until fairly recent timeSAfrom the
Elizabethan period that make-up
became more realistic. By the end
of the nineteenth century, efforts
were being made to be historically
authentic.

Today, with tlle brilliance and
clarity of modern theatre light»
ing and the many possible visual
eilccts, make-up has become a
complex art. Lighting effects tend
to wash out the actor‘s skin color
and distort the shadows and
planes of this face. When expertly
applied, makeup counters this
through the use or coloring—
known as the base—and lining.

Besides merely restoring an act-
or's face to him, makeup can help
him look more the part from
changing his race to adding more
emotional value. (Malevolent
characters must look evil.)

The make-up artist must be
equally creative and industrious.
Tanya Hovanessian, head of this
year's makeup department, has
had both the practice and the
training that have made her as
fine as she is. We at Grinnell
have seen her art in the past,
and I am Sure we can look for
ward to another year or her mas-
tery enhancing the plays. She also
has never been loath to teaching
newcomers the art of make-up.

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Trip Through the ‘Land of Smiles'
Brings Thai (harm to Grinnellian

Ed. Note: The l‘ollowlng ls
another letter from a Fifth Year
Abroad student in Thailand. This
letter is from leija Dedavas.

Settling myself in my seat, I
closed my eyes. I felt hot and
tired after my short and unnerv»
ing ride through the crowded city
streets. it is always a miracle to
escape the onslaught of traffic
here. Yes, i was anxious to get
back to the peace and quiet
which 1 had left more than three
weeks before. The fan whirled
overhead but barely made a stir
in the still oppressive Bangkok
heat. I turned my head and gazed
out the window at the hurrying
crowd of people. Thai women in
multi - colored p a s i n s (native
skirts), carrying their baskets,
bundles and sleeping babies,
brighceyed c h i in ren, Buddhist
priests, Chinese students, families
of Malayan ancestry—all moved
through the compartments and
sought their seats. i could hear the
ceaseless honking oI taxis and
other city sounds and smell the
various odors so characteristic of
this Oriental city. Then, with a
jolt me diesel train started slowly
to move out of the station on its
way to the North and Chlengmai,
my destination.

Monotonous Click

I sighed as I thought or the
eighteen-hour train trip. it would
be a long journey, but also an
interesting one. Thailand is al-
ways morc than willing to provide
a feast for all the senses, so i
knew I would not be bored. Al.

:teady the cuioriul countryside be-
‘gan to flash by as the train

continued to increase speed and
slip out of the city. The late
aiternoon sun played on the stret.»
ches of water in the rice fields
and klungs (canals). Laughing
brownrskinned children leaped and
splashed in the muddy water. A
short distance away, water buffa-
lo wallDwed COnlellledly in the
warm mild. Boats skimmed along
on the shallow tributaries carrying
loads of bananas, golden mangoes,
juicy pineapple, and other fruit
and vegetables. As the train sped

ion, the sun began to set in a
‘glorious burst of red and orange.

illuminating the palm trees with

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crowns of gold and competing with
the luxurious tropical blooms. At
moments like this, one is aware
how utterly incapable man is of
fully grasping the beauty around
him. How truly beautiful is God's
world! . . . .

Then, just as quickly, the colors
became more subdued, and eve
hing settled like a soft dark blanr
ket upon the countryside. The night
wove a different spell: black palm
trees silhouetted against a gray
sky—black bushes and the dark
outline of stilt houses—gray water
reﬂecting the silvery gleam of the
moon—but the beauty was still
there, perhaps a little mysterious
in the dark softness of the night.
And then, slowly, friendly little
lights began to ﬂicker like tire.
flies across the dark fields.

I tumed my attention to my tel-
low passengers. Across the aisle,
1 met the unflinching black eyes
oi a pint-sized boy. An army of.
ficer with a lovely smile occupied
the seat in from of me. A Buddhist
priest adjusted his saffroncolored
robe and puffed on a cigarette,
while his two younger companions
were deeply engrossed in their
banks. 1 had a pleasant chat with
the officer, who was delighted at
my efforts to communicate in
Thai. And I, in turn, was equally
delighted with the excellent Eng-
lish of one of the two novices who
told me about his education in
India. Just then, an elderly man
with betel-stained teeth shuffled
by, and our conversation was in.
terrupted.

Khaw Lam Favorite

The steady and monotonous
click of the wheels proved more
soothing than a lullaby and soon
I Tell into a llllul sleep. The air
blowing through the open window
had become quite cool, and l
wished I had taken my rowel out
of my suitcase to use as a blanket,
but, grnggtly, i decided it was too
much trouble to get it. Every
time the train stopped, hundreds
of bugs descended upon the pas-
sengers, tn annoy us further. And,
to add to my discomfort, the seat
was a little too sllorl. (0 iii this
"iarang" (foreigner) Ahl The
joys of traveling in the Orient .

With the first rays of light
breaking through the darkness,
people began to stir. Before too
long, the fragrance of food aiid
coffee began to drift from the din-
ing car. The car boy began to
carry plates oi “khaw phat" (fried
rice with fried egg and cucumber
slices) and glasses of hot coilee
through the compartments. Just
then we pulled into another one
of the many attractive and well-
kept stations which dut the countiy.
side, Roses, zinnias, and snapdrag.
ons, as well as other flowers and
shrubs gave an inviting appear-

 

anca to the station. Even belora
the train had stopped, women
rushed to the windows hawking
their wares. Passengers stood at
the open windows bargaining over
the prices. Skinny dogs scrambled
and snarled over scraps of food
thrown from the train. Scrawny
chickens squawked underfoot, add
ing to the general confusion.
Children scurried hack and forth
selling water in bamboo contain-
ers and various kinds of orchids.
Trays of “goodies" wrapped in
banana leaves (much better than
paper) passed under the windows,
“sticky rice" here (glutinous rice
eaten with the lingers). dried
beef, fried chicken, boiled eggs,
pickled mangoes, steamed buna<
nas, peanuts, as well as heavy
trays with fresh mangoes, bana<
nas, and other tropical iniit.

Eighteen-hour Trip

The train began to move as I
paid for my last purchase, "khaw
lam," one of my favorites. it's
an interesting combination of “stio
ky" rice, coconut cream, and
Sometimes beans. This lSitl'lell
roasted in a stalk of bamboo. I
ordered ice tea, Settled back In
my seat, and, unwrapping the ba-
nana leaves, began to enjoy my
breakfast, Others were enjoying
their food too. Thais eat constantly,
especially when they are travel-
ing. The mother of the little boy
with ”big eyes” offered me several
delicious mangoes.

By now the country had changed
appearance. instead of the flat
land and neat rice fields of the
central plain, the train now
snaked around thickly wooded
hills. Palms, tall evergreen trees,
and stalwart bl'oadrleafed teak
trees cast; shadows in the morn-
ing light, and bamboo thickets
waved their leathery plumes at
the slowly moving train. Plantain
and shrubs, grasses and twisting
serpentine Vines added lush
growth to the northern jungle.

Finally, around ll):45 a.m.. the
train pulled into Chiengmai. It
was good to be home. Loaded
down with my suitcase, bags,
camera, and crossbows and ar<
rows (souvenier ol' Angkor Wat),
istruggled lrom the coach. A
young Thai, seeing my plight, of-
Iel'ed to carry my suitcase and
bags, proving out here, anyway,
chivalry is not dead yet. We're
carried along with the crowd un-
til we reached the waiting sam<
lors (bicycle pedicabs) and “thuk
thuks" or taxis. A long haggic
ensued over the fare-Aha driver
insisted on iive baht or twenty-
fivc cents, and I insisted. just as
firmly, on one baht, or the cents.
We finally agreed on two baht.
Thus ended a very typical and
pleasant train ride through Thai-
land, the Land of Smiles.

 

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