Hello theatre lovers! If you’re in UFV’s Theatre major, extended minor, or minor, you probably saw the email about the FLIPT Theatre Festival in Italy, which ran June 11–21 — an intercultural theatre laboratory hosted by Teatro Potlach (think: an international theatre camp for adults).
The price tag was steep: €1000. Even with the discount UFV students received thanks to theatre Professor Parjad Sharifi, I still had to ask myself whether draining my savings and begging my parents was worth it. Spoiler: I did it. Here’s the honest review.
The first week was… rough. I was placed in a monastery with two classmates — ironic, considering my queer ass avoids churches like they’re booby-trapped. I wasn’t worried, though; I’d asked ahead of time if the space was safe for people in my community, and I got the reassurance I needed. The challenge turned out to be everything else: a bathroom door that didn’t close, mould on the shower ceiling, freezing water, heat, dust. But the medieval architecture, hedgehogs, and star?filled skies of the tiny hillside hamlet in Fara in Sabina softened the blow.
Workshops started immediately, and my ADHD was fighting for its life. The video?heavy presentations and constant Italian weren’t what I expected after being told English would be the main language. I ended up using more Spanish than English and often translating for classmates who were understandably lost.
The first four days with theatre legends Eugenio Barba, Julia Varley, Pino Di Buduo, Daniela Regoli, and Nathalie Mentha were a mixed box. Their reflections on theatre were valuable, but some workshops felt dull — lots of videos are available on their webpage and we could’ve watched them beforehand. Still, every time disappointment crept in, someone like Varley would drop a line that snapped me back into wonder: “We can do everything, but where is our priority? … We don’t have the time to do all, so we must choose what’s essential.”
The nightly performances were a highlight. Seeing theatre from Spain, Iran, Poland, Ukraine, Italy, and the U.S. cracked open my sense of what theatre can be. Cooking (hell yeah I did) and performing for the locals during the 50th anniversary celebration made the purpose of FLIPT clear: community.
On June 15, everything shifted. The workshops went from zero to a hundred physically, starting with Arianne Wang’s “Towards an Intercultural Actor’s Dramaturgy.” Her mix of dance, Kun Opera, and 22?hour performance insights had us collapsing with almost no verbal instruction. We repeated four steps for three hours, walked for two, ran a choreography 15 times, and I’ll never forget when she ended one workshop saying, “And that’d be the end of warm up.” She promised to treat us like professionals, and she absolutely did.
After three days of that intensity, we moved into a form I’ll treasure forever: Commedia dell’Arte. Under Claudio De Maglio, we learned the ritualistic power of masks and how to inhabit them. I chose my masks, and they chose me — an experience I still can’t fully explain. Watching his students perform sealed it: this is high?end theatre, and I won’t be the only one talking about it for years to come.
Some of my favourite workshops happened at the worst possible time — right in the crunch leading up to “Invisible Cities,” when fewer and fewer people could attend. Still, “The Narrative of Light” and “The Sonic Architecture” with Mthobisi Khanyile and Nkosingiphile Mancane Dlamini were unforgettable. They revealed the soul within light and sound, and how sensorial theatre can shape a performance if we let it. Their work was so beautiful it had me genuinely considering a trip to South Africa to learn more.
It turned out the South African workshops weren’t the only thing making me consider travelling. The Irish company Pan Pan, even in a short talk, had me daydreaming about flying out just to see their experimental theatre firsthand. And Residui Teatro from Madrid completely spellbound me with their passionate presentation.
Everything eventually led to the demanding Invisible Cities performance, where the medieval town transformed into a spectacle of lights, projections, and theatre. After days of preparation under Buduo’s direction, we were each assigned a spot in the city — a place we’d perform on a continuous loop until the festival’s end. When Regoli rang the bell, we marched to our stations and began: performing even if no one was there, finishing, and immediately starting again. Two hours straight. No rest. No water. You stop only when someone signals you to.
The experience is unlike anything else. It’s closer to street performance: you feel like an exhibit. People record you, linger, wander off, clap, or ignore you entirely. It’s miles away from a stage, but incredibly educational.
I had no idea what to expect, and Fara kept surprising me. From life?saving advice on preserving your voice after two hours of nonstop performing (thank you, Santi), to the people who lit up each day, to earning a genuine coworker?level respect from our UFV instructors — it was absolutely worth the approx. $2,300 CAD investment (flight included). I left feeling lucky and deeply grateful for everyone I met.
Now with three collaboration proposals on the table, I can’t help wondering why UFV hasn’t jumped on a partnership or offered course credit for this to make it more accessible. It’s a genuinely worthy experience — one I’d repeat in a heartbeat if I had the money.
