The San Diego Fires

San Diego Fires

What do they have to do with young performers? Yesterday, I taught two acting classes with teenagers. I mentioned to one class that- although I do ban cell phone usage in the theatre while we were working - I had mine on because my cousins had recently been evacuated from their home in San Diego and I was awaiting news of their safety out of the city and the status of their home. An outpouring of connections to the area followed. Some had lived there, visited there, had family and friends there, were going there and many were trying to connect to loved ones there the same way I was – with e-mail and the phones. Connections. Everyone was trying to connect. Which is what we do in theatre. We connect with the world, ourselves and often try to make sense out of things that have no sense. We work collaboratively to produce art, entertainment or at the very least – an interesting experience! We seek to connect as a cast and later to our audience. Six degrees of separation. Decried as an urban legend, my classes and casts of young performers ram home to me that we are often closer to each other than the “six degrees of separation.”

Over the past year while working with young performers, discussions of Virginia Tech, the I35 bridge collapse in the Twin Cities, and now the Southern California fires have occurred. We are at war. These tragedies, events and world news encroach into the theatre classes. A connection is made with an incident in a play – a quirk of a character – comes from a previous sadness or a narrow escape. Katrina and Iraq creep into an improvisation or a game of Freeze Tag. These young performers do not shield themselves from events but give them careful thought. And sometimes use theatre class as a way of working out their complicated feelings from dealing with events in which they have no control.

By Candlelight (about teens connecting directly after 9/11) was developed in a middle school during the aftermath of Katrina. 9/11 and Katrina are distinctly two very different events. But the ability of the students to want to make a difference and help whatever corner of the world was suffering was a common theme that cropped up. They maintained that both occurrences created great need that the world needed to address.

As current events unfold, there is always a student with a story connected to the event. It can be far-reaching but it shows a personal involvement in things that do not directly affect their day-to-living. “It could be me.” And the magical “what if” - widely used to figure out characters and why they behave as they do – is used by the students as they discuss the world.

In theatre, we look to connect to the world of a play. In most cases, this goal also keeps us connected to the world. An acting class is a wonderful forum for expressing frustration and ultimately finding hope in small corners. It is certainly possible that the more connections these students make to events close to home (the bridge collapse) and further away (the San Diego fires), the more empathy they will have in years to come toward world events. Already they see the world as much closer to home than I did as a child.

Performers - young and old find themselves drawn into acting stating that, " it helps them get away from who they are and become someone else." The reality is the good ones wind up revealing themselves in untold, vulnerable ways and discover things about themselves they did not know. And as they throw themselves into new new worlds as dictated by a play, they find themselves with ever-increasing knowledge of their present world.

I am rambling. My cousins are safe. Miraculously, they still have a home. But as I waited for news, the reality of “what could have been” and what has occurred for scores of people became a reality. Because of a connection. So, I am privileged to count my blessings – the safety of loved ones and work that enables connections instead of severing them.

Costumes - THE CANTERVILLE GHOST

I was blessed with a generous, hard-working, good-humored costumer for The Canterville Ghost. Set in 1910, she diligently rsearched the era and designed costumes for 23 young performers accordingly. She created charts explaining when a jacket was worn, when a robe was worn (lots of robes and pajamas for when the Otis family is awakened in the middle of the night by the Ghost) and she detailed when hats were on and off.

For dress rehearsals: the girls all buttoned their blouses and dresses - in the front. They had never seen blouses that buttoned in the back before. Mr. Otis wore his tie to bed because he could not get it on and off. Nor could he figure out how to tie it. He also could not hide the tie under his robe. He also could not get the robe on over his suit jacket.

Hats were on the coatrack and without exception, every young, male performer who wore a hat would put it on when they entered the home and put the hat on the coatrack when they exited to go outside.

By opening night, most of the proper dressing got sorted out. Until opening, when Lord Canterville in his black suit - happened to look down at his shoes (during curtain call). And discovered that while he look quite "natty" in his black funeral suit (the scene where the Ghost is finally laid to rest) the brown shoes he was wearing did not exactly go with the black suit. The thought registered across his face and then to all those in the audience. Including the costumer.

And the Young Duke in the play continued to wear his hat indoors and take it off outdoors. But somewhere a glimpse into the past and how people dressed was explored. And someday, in some trivia game, these young performers will know the answer to an obscure question about Edwardian dress in 1910 England. All because of The Canterville Ghost. (Who probably remained amused at the chaos of dress rehearsal.) Oscar Wilde would probably have something to say on the subject.

The Invisible Props from The Canterville Ghost

Just finished THE CANTERVILLE GHOST with 23 young performers ages 12-14. We had our share of invisible props, broken props, missing props and shattered props. I learned some rules:

1. Once you replace a rehearsal prop with the show prop and show it to your young performer - who will dutifully nod their head as if they are listening - they will later come onstage during tech week with an "invisible" prop.

During notes after the show, you may ask your young performer why they did not bring on the prop and chose instead to work with an invisible prop - they will tell you they could not find their prop anywhere. When you mention that the rehearsal prop was put away because you had the actual show prop for them - they will be astonished and mention that nobody told them. When you gently say that ... well, gee ... you not only told them but showed them the prop and then put it on the prop table - where it belongs - they will be flabbergasted. They will have no memory of that conversation. And no idea there is a prop table.

2. The next day they will bring on the proper show prop. They will use it incorrectly and fiddle with it and it will not work right.

During notes on the show, you will explain that the prop works exactly as the rehearsal prop worked and they will be surprised but will vow to practice with the prop and get it right the next day.

3. On the third day, you will have success. They will bring on the right prop, use it correctly and leave it somewhere. Preferably on the floor center stage. Where everyone goes. And everyone notices it and no one picks it up.

4. On the 4th day, the prop will have become an integral part of the show and with any luck will come and go as stated in the script.

Unless it is a crystal ball which is left on the floor. And someone kicks it. And it shatters. During an actual show. During intermission, people will emerge from the woodwork to clean it up. Except for the cast, who will remain huddled somewhere discussing the crystal ball and "Do you think anyone noticed?"

Just as helium balloons proved to have a mind of their own, I am vowed to never again put a crystal ball into a play. If someone must gaze into the future, I'd just as soon use tarot cards. Which don't shatter.... they will just get lost and disappear one by one.

Upon further thought, maybe an invisible crystal ball would have been a better idea. Invisible props in a spooky show about a ghost. Somehow, it all seems appropriate.
By the way, excerpts from THE CANTERVILLE GHOST can be found at: http://theatreink.tripod.com/