W. Fran Astorga on Creating Exhaustion Arroyo

2023 by Playwright W. Fran Astorga

EXHAUSTION ARROYO: Dancin’ Trees in the Ravine encapsulates distinct realities I experienced from early-2020 through mid-2021. This epoch feels weird and jarring to be nostalgic about in mid-2022, but that is where I am – in mourning for the hope that once was and celebrating amorous self-fullment. ¡Yes! This is a pandemic show. . . though it isn’t mentioned. This play takes place in the early pandemic days when the world was still on standby to return to the normalcy of the “before times,” right as we began realizing that it might be more than a few weeks of quarantining and that the “normalcy” of the before times might not be something everyone wanted to return to.

For me, the normalcy of pre-pandemic was exhausting. Before “the Movement,” conversations around equity had to be navigated through an industry-standard, impenetrable wall of white fragility. I had to leave the theatre industry for my own sanity and safety because remaining in the industry became more about withstanding abuse and exploitation rather than the skills, artistry, and potential I offered and exhibited as a young professional. After an internship with Marin Theatre Company, I suddenly had no hope for a professional career in an industry whose culture was intentionally degrading and explicitly harmful to the marginalized.

The pandemic helped bring me back to theatre because of the power of human connection. Suddenly, folx could collaborate with artists around the world and the quality of the work was just as good or better than the virtual work being done by well-funded, established institutions. The pandemic became an opportunity for theatre makers who have always been operating with limited resources to develop and tell their stories how they wanted to without pandering to the trauma porn stories predominately white institutions tokenized. To me, Exhaustion Arroyo is an example of a play I would never expect a pre-pandemic P.W.I. to produce– It’s too joyful and full of loving QT,BI,PoC relationships.

I began piecing the show together during the fires of 2020 while I was an Americorps Member volunteering with the Red Cross to house evacuees in Fresno County. This was a moment of our floating rock screaming at us, once again, to stop fanning the flame under the Climate Change fire. As families learned their homes had been consumed by fire, I witnessed and participated as our community came together to provide reactive aid in the face of disaster. Formulating Exhaustion Arroyo was a necessary distraction for me when there was no way for any of us to be proactive against the loss and devastation being experienced.

Before the fires, there was a day in the early pandemic that initially inspired the show; May 28th, 2020. My friends Nandi Matthews, Esaul Vargas, and I were desperately trying to find a way to spend time together, in-person, after two months of quarantining. Our work schedules finally aligned for a single day and we were in desperate need of a day of rest. As we were high on shrooms, dancing with trees, speaking to boulders, and commiserating with the river bed in a place called the Garden of Eden in the Santa Cruz Mountains, a memory rushed back to me. Seven-year-old me woke-up at sunrise to “help” my MaMa Marina with the morning chores of her mountain-side farm in the Sierra Madre Occidental. All of the water for the livestock, bathing, laundry, and cooking came from the arroyos nearby. I thought, “Damn, It would suck if our water was poisoned,” and I could not figure out if it was the seven-year-old me that had this thought, the me in the Garden of Eden, or the arroyo I was submerged in telling me the woes of her sisters around the globe.

The threads I was hoping to weave really came together when I took on a second job . . . third job? It’s hard to say but, producing virtual theater and working with Americorps during a global pandemic was not paying the bills. In fact, it was creating them. So, I began working part-time at an infamous pizza franchise. And wow, essential workers have it tough. They’ve continued supplying us goods and modern comforts while consciously and consistently putting themselves at risk because of fiscal necessity. The exploitation and abuse essential workers experience is an unexaggerated and essential theme of this play because their suffering in service has been romanticized as a necessary sacrifice for the rest of society to function. In Exhaustion Arroyo, the characters are essential workers who have had enough and are exploring solutions that reflect the exploitation they are experiencing. Like actual essential workers, the characters are exhausted by their demanding work schedules, work conditions, unjust compensation, and the entitled clientele. Things like a “Karen” customer, a robbery, or their employers complete disregard for human life is their normal, so their reactions to these situations and conditions are apathized and hold no novelty; Instead, they become opportunities for entertainment and joy.

Yes, this play is a comedy. It has to be. I selfishly cared more about depicting the characters’ joy than creating a conscious descendant of a “well-made” play. I wanted to experience a show where my community members demonstrate how they find joy during challenging times. I wanted to see my loved ones reflected and weaved into a story uniquely our own. And I wanted to write a love letter to physical comedy and the clowning philosophy “pleasure to be.” I believe I accomplished what I wanted and realized it was what I needed.

I am tired as fuck of having to assimilate and mask to the white gaze. The play is unapologetically bilingual and queer because my community is. There’s intentional moments exploring taboo to distract audience members who are too worried about upholding white supremacy than empathizing with the obstacles the characters have to face because of systemic prejudice. There is specificity in who the target audience is. In writing this play, I celebrate the immigrant community I hail from and the queer, BI,PoC community I have intertwined and fortified my roots with. They make me feel the most human and American, even when the United States systematically rejects and harms us–so, for my communities, I am grateful.

As I read or watch Exhaustion Arroyo, it welcomes me into the Ravine where expectations are broken and where purgatory becomes heavenly because of the community that holds you. I personally have been ravined several times these last few years and this play has served as medicine and reminder to find moments of rest and joy with loved ones whenever possible. I hope it provides the same to you.