「5 years, 5 days.」- a new work by Mauro Sacchi

Hi. Thank you for being here. 

If you know me, you can skip the following paragraph.
If you don't, it's great to "meet" you. I am Mauro Sacchi (貓肉先生, for those of you keen on Chinese), an independent performing artist, teacher and choreographer/director in the fields of theater and dance. Born and raised in Italy, I studied and lived in the US, and now call Taiwan home, though I do get around to teach and perform worldwide. I am creating a new piece, 5 years, 5 days., a solo, and producing it for the stage on my own, in Tapei, in what is the first of many projects that I and my soon-to-be-born production company will undertake.
It is a beautiful, harrowing, fulfilling and scary process. I feel lucky, inspired, and terrified in equal parts. 
 
Asking for money is not something I am particularly keen on doing, but it is something that is peculiarly necessary in this instance—as necessary to the continuing viability and success of this artistic endeavor as the sweat and effort that goes into the creation itself—because the performing arts inherently create no material "thing" to reproduce and sell in the marketplace, and because I am  creating this on my own, investing large amount of sweat and money to bring it to life.

And thus, here I am, asking for your help and support. 

The short, quick version of the “ask”:
Please help me, help us, make 5 years, 5 days., this creative process and its public sharing possible.
Rehearsal spaces, venue and equipment rentals, materials—all that is necessary to create a performance—are not cheap, however frugal and resourceful we try to be: your contribution, however small, will go a long way in helping offset these costs. 



The longer, rather more poetic version of the "ask" is in the following paragraphs, for you to read (if you are so inclined) and be inspired by. 

Artists are those who practice their craft daily, meticulously honing their skills, creating whatever it is that stirs their consciousness, giving life to what was previously not there, making the impossible possible. 

While their artistic pursuits are very much personal acts, they are also very much shared, public ones. 

They are acts that, while they may be prepared in isolation, in the dangerous safety of an artist’s studio (or mind), acquire their value to humankind only if and when they are shared, when others can experience them as well, in whichever form. 

Nowhere is this sharing more alive, more necessary, than in the act of theater and dance and live performance, for these require the presence and attention of both performers and audience, there and then, sharing space (however mediated by technology) and stories and images and perceptions that only exist in that very moment. 

While these acts may be recorded to be reproduced, the recorded part is not what happened, nor what was felt, but merely a representation, a reduction of it, fundamentally lacking the life that was shared and lived in the moment. 

However, though the experience of live art and performance is immediate and short-lived, almost insubstantial, the creative process necessary to make it happen is a demanding, long-lasting act, one that requires attention, a devotion to details, a devotion to the very act (and fact) of doing it. It is an act that requires time and effort, and, as it turns out, sizable amounts of money. 

In the human system we created and inhabit in 2019, just about everything has a sticker price affixed to it, including all that is necessary for both the creative process—rehearsals, meetings, materials—and the actual sharing in the live space of the “theater”, and the very space itself. These things are expensive, and, if theater is to be viable, it requires a shared participation to its production cost, through public/private funding, contributions in kind, and ticket sales. 

Selling loads of tickets to a performance is great (and I hope you will purchase one or more here and join us in Taipei), especially for one’s ego, yet in all but the marquee performances on Broadway, or those of Cirque du Soleil and the likes, ticket revenue doesn’t even cover the cost of the venue where the performance happens: ironically, the very choice of sharing a piece of live art in a public space (which is necessary to its existence) implies a cost that usually cannot be met by simply selling access to that space. 

Thus, the performing arts are only viable if their cost is shared by many, whether through public, taxpayer-funded investments, or private donations well beyond the purchasing of tickets. 

Funding is indeed as necessary to the creation of performance as the physical and mental efforts are. 

Blood, sweat, tears, talent, and cold hard cash. 


This, then, is an invitation to directly participate in our creative process—which will continue with or without outside funding—and thus make it (somewhat) financially viable. 

The immediate goal is not so much to “make a living” out of the art itself—though that would be nice: the goal is to make the creative act and process a little less financially draining for those involved in it. It is an attempt to share the process itself with you all. 

As an independent, foreign artist based in Taiwan, I am unable to apply for and receive most, if not all, of the funds made available by public and private institutions on this beautiful island. For the last dozen years or so, I’ve been keen to collaborate with local Taiwanese companies and artists, who do receive public support, while funding every little thing I produce with my own personal resources: the time has come to create something more substantial, on my own, to take a leap of faith and go through the fire, to realize a vision that is precisely mine. It is a pricey leap, but one that is necessary and unavoidable, especially now. 

What are you contributing to, you may ask? 

To an ongoing creative/production process which began in my head and body this past summer—though it had been fermenting in the background for at least a decade—and which will continue well after its initial sharing in preview form in mid-December in Taipei. It will grow, develop and shed all the unnecessary bits, through early spring 2020, when it will be shared publicly again, all grown up we hope. While it grows, it also seeks to become viable to be taken on the road, on tour, so that it may expand its audience, in Taiwan and abroad, including in the US.

The totality of funds raised will directly pay for all elements that allow the creation to happen, now and in the next few months (and, hopefully, years): space and equipment rental, materials for rehearsals and the stage, printing and advertising (in both digital an material forms), logistic and transportation expenses, and the desire to compensate (and, during production week, feed) all those who are working with and supporting me in ways small and huge to make 5 years, 5 days. actually happen outside my head. They are a small, young, generous team. I hope you’ll get to know them.

Whatever you can give, whatever you feel like contributing, is deeply appreciated. 

I repay your generosity with my gratitude, now and in perpetuity, and with the dedication, precision, and overall effort that such an undertaking requires.

You will also be receiving perks for your contributions, small tangible tokens of my and our appreciation:

- All supporters will receive a personalized thank you card in the mail (amazing! An actual card in the mail, with handwriting on it!), and my undying gratitude, while also causing me to shed tears of joy;
- Contributions of US$50 or more will receive the thank you card, and one ticket for one performance of your choice;
- Contributions of US$100 or more will receive all of the above and two tickets for a performance of your choice, plus a direct thank you in the show's program notes;
- Contributions of US$500 or more will receive all of the above, plus a home-cooked meal prepared by yours truly (I am serious about this. We'll make it work);
- Contributions of US$1,000 or more will receive all of the above, plus a pair of tickets to my shows for the next ten years, and a direct thank you in my show's program notes in perpetuity, as an essential supporter. 

If you have any questions regarding this piece, its process, or if you wish to know more about me and what I do, please do get in touch. 

If you'd like to follow me, and this process, on social media, you can find us at www.instagram.com/ilmaurosacchi or www.facebook.com/maurosacchiofficial.

Thank you for reading this, for your support, and for allowing me to make this piece happen, to share it with you all. 

I feel honored and lucky (and utterly terrified). 

Mauro Sacchi 貓肉先生
Pasadena, California, November 13th, 2019.




About 5 years, 5 days.:

5 years, 5 days. is a simple piece.
An empty space, a body with its memories, its stories, specific to the characters it embodies...
The audience watches, listens, touches, and – because these memories are powerful, but barely sketched out – they can digest them, in their body, be reminded of their own.
(We've forgotten, but the language of the body IS our mother-tongue.)

The emptiness, the lack of superfluous elements, leaves room for movement of and within the body, for reflection and emotions, for life to appear, and be shared.

It is this connection, this exchange, that makes theater important, necessary, perhaps more now than ever.