Receiving wisdom from Lowell Swortzell Rehearsals for Lucky Peter's Journey February 2000
A few months ago, I was cleaning out an old filing cabinet in the education office at Writers Theatre. In one drawer was a series of teaching artist files and resumes from actors/directors with whom we've worked in the last 20 years. One of the last folders in there was mine, which contained my original letter of application and resume. It was remarkable to look back at some of my earliest work in the graduate program at NYU, particularly two TYA directing projects: a staged reading of Lucky Peter's Journey adapted by my mentor, Lowell Swortzell, and a devised, collaborative piece called The Greenwich Village Project.
My first memorable theatre experience was in 3rd grade when a visiting opera company performed a scene called "I Hate Men" in which the main character, a female teacher, shot dead her male colleagues. However questionable the subject matter, I was hooked and began writing my own scripts. Fast forward 15 years and I was working on the nearly defunct NJ Young Playwrights Festival, providing feedback to young writers in grades 4-12.
In conducting research, the history of the field's development has fascinated me. I have written about that history in an article published in ArtsPraxis and occasionally on the blog for the Young Playwrights Map. Yet this writing is limited to a history of programming influenced by the work done within the national young playwrights competition that eventually became Young Playwrights, Inc. (YPI) founded by composer/lyricist Stephen Sondheim and developed by the late director, Gerald Chapman. While the influence of Sondheim and Chapman's work in the field cannot be denied, there have been instances of youth creation of plays prior to the national program at YPI in 1981.
Child performers, Federal Theatre Project
Gary, Indiana
Most noted of these earlier programs is the Marilyn Bianchi Kid's Playwriting Festival at Dobama Theatre in Cleveland begun in 1979. In fact, Cleveland seems to have been an incubator of early work in theatre for young audiences through the Federal Theatre Project (FTP) and Playhouse Square. I'm hoping to get my hands on a copy of Showtime in Cleveland by John Vacha to learn more about that. I am also in search of a piece of information that I swear was in my original dissertation research, but can no longer find: evidence that one of the FTP units (Gary, Indiana perhaps) directly engaged students in writing their own scripts. The unit in Gary had children performing work, so it makes the most sense, but correspondence with a scholar who has studied the FTP in Indiana has me questioning that possibility. Learning about Cleveland's history brings my attention to that unit. I also believe there were playwriting programs for youth in Boston and/or Vermont in the 1960s that may have been precursors to the current competitions and festivals in those areas.
I will keep eyes and ears open for that needle in a haystack. Any leads or ideas are most certainly welcome.
Last year, I returned to the high school classroom after a 15 year hiatus. The schedule was part-time and solely focused on a series of Acting classes. This year, my schedule includes sophomore English and a co-taught humanities-centered class in the school's Leadership Academy. I've enjoyed the new challenges in this work, particularly inspiring students to engage and share in the English classroom. (Theatre students aren't hesitant to share; in fact, it is possible they may share too often!)
As a shy, introverted student myself, I am sensitive to the hesitation and discomfort that teenagers may have about being called upon to answer questions, or (gasp!) read out loud. One solution I've found is in randomizing the way in which students are selected for these tasks.
The first step is always to ask for volunteers, but that typically brings crickets to the room. Another teacher had suggested writing student names on popsicle sticks and drawing those from a jar. Instead, the process in my classroom has been further randomized by a series of cards and a pair of foam dice (that I stole from my children).
At the beginning of class, I pass around a set of 24 cards that are numbered from 2-12. Each number is written twice. When it comes time for a question, or to read aloud, I roll the dice and the students holding the resulting number must decide if they want to volunteer to read/answer, or battle it out in a best-of-3 bout of rock/paper/scissors. The card is collected from whomever ends up reading/answering and the next time the number is up, the other person holding it has no choice but to respond. I've been doing this for about two months and it has worked very well. The students are excited by the anticipation of the dice roll and love the rock/paper/scissors battle. What's best is that not one person has refused to read/answer in this format. Thanks to the folks in the weekly #games4ed Twitter chat for sparking my interest in "gamifying" the classroom!
Clearing out some old filing cabinets in my office at the theatre today and found many articles, reviews, and folders with quotes that sparked my first thinking about the direction of the eventual dissertation. Here's one from the late Dorothy Heathcote that will bring some new energy to my theatre classes in the year ahead:
"You can do things because you self-consciously feel a fool. But in the theatre, you do things because you are conscious of self for the audience. You GIVE to the audience. You don't take from the play."
There is a notation that this statement came from a master class given by Heathcote to students at NYU. I believe the comment was recorded either in an account of the event by Cecily O'Neill (not sure if it is this book, or in other writing), a video of the workshop, or Theatre for Change by Landy & Montgomery. I can't source it to any of those at the moment, but I imagine you can find it - and similar wisdom - in any of those locations.
Image created by Jodomondo Accessed on Wikimedia Commons
The summer has provided me with much needed time for updating the Young Playwrights Map, which had been neglected for too long as I wound down school-year responsibilities at the theatre and at the high school. However, I have not yet updated the old listings as my social media and internet news alerts have brought to my attention a number of previously unknown opportunities within the United States, Canada, and the UK. These have been added throughout the month of June and the Map has suddenly grown from an off-shoot of my dissertation research into an international resource of 117 opportunities for young writers ages 18 and younger.
I enjoy adding programs both new and established and there have been a share of both this past month. It still surprises me that programs with histories of multiple years are only now becoming visible to me. I would think the almighty Google would pick up those hits automatically, but nevertheless, I am grateful to find them now.
What I am uncertain about at the moment is how useful the Map is for young writers. To date, the Young Playwrights Map has 3,206 views since it was first shared in May 2015. That's roughly 1,000 views per year. Google analytics help me see where views originate, but I don't know how the information is being used, or if it is useful at all. Programs are excited when I contact them to be added (although I did have one program refuse to give information and the head of an organization offer to share information only if I was a member). Playwrights are thrilled with the idea of finding new places to share their work. Some of the playwrights with whom I've worked in the New Jersey Young Playwrights Festival have plays produced at other festivals, but I do not believe they connected with those organizations because of the Map. Information about how the Map is used is something I am working on. If you have any suggestions, please do share them.
I also would like to conduct another overview of the field similar to what I did in Mapping the Field of Young Playwrights Programs, which was published in ArtsPraxis in October 2016. However, that may need to wait until the start of 2019 while I wrap up some other projects. In the meantime, I look forward to continuing to update the map and reaching two milestones: 100 programs in the United States and 120 listings overall. With any luck, those will come before the summer is out!
This past month has been a busy one with the close of the school year, the 35th annual New Jersey Young Playwrights Contest, and a flurry of activity bringing new listings to the Young Playwrights Map. Over the next two weeks I will also wind down a second semester of classes in the Alternate Route Certification program at Monmouth University. Not to mention that this past week I have been catching up on work around the house: tomorrow morning I will take my first stab at painting the deck and we've discovered the power of Letgo as a way to complete some of those projects and unloading some of the things that a family of five accumulates along the way.
Once the deck painting is done, and we get some help with a couple of unruly landscaping projects, my focus will shift to reflection and planning for the year ahead. That has always been a part of my summer experience - a remnant of so many years in and/or working with the school system. It's my "January in July", perhaps, with the week of July 4th serving as something as I imagine the last weeks of December being for other people.
Some of my first projects this week will include formally selecting a play for the fall production (looks like I will be doing the play I first thought of back in the spring!) and setting up calendars for the fall programs at the theatre. This should be followed by curriculum development and writing schedules for a couple of research projects that I want to complete in the remaining months of 2018.
It is a busy summer, as always, and I'm looking forward to diving in! (An ironic idiom for someone who dislikes the pool).
Well, I made it four days straight before missing a post yesterday. On the positive side, that brief run is the most blogging that I have done in a long time. I will keep going from here - probably not with a daily blog post, but at least with some kind of daily writing. I will report back every so often with updates. For now though, I need to get back to packing for our weekend Cub Scout camp out!
Directing Meeka Rising by Carol Korty
NYU New Plays for Young Audiences, 2013
My life in theatre began at age 11 when I spent my first summer working backstage with the summer stock company led by two of my uncles. This introduction came at an integral time in my life and gave me direction toward the place where I am today.
That means I have spent 30 years in the theatre - 20 of them working professionally as an actor, director, dramaturg, and teacher (not necessarily in that order or in those capacities all of the time). Sometimes it is important to reflect on the past to understand how far you've come.
This also gives me the confidence to say that I know what I'm doing and know that I do it well.
Oops! It is a little past midnight on what would be Day 4 of my writing challenge, so technically I missed the third day. However, since I am still up and working through some other projects I will let this one count.
It was a frustrating day today. Thankfully, I had The Daily Stoic: 366 Meditations on Wisdom, Perseverance, and the Art of Living by Ryan Holliday, to meet me at the end. Today's quote for reflection was from Seneca's On Providence, in which he wrote: "Why then are we offended? Why do we complain? This is what we're here for." Holliday's commentary is a reminder that each of us comes from an "impressive tradition" of people who had to bear more difficult struggle. We are "capable of what they are capable of. You're meant for this. Bred for it" (p. 170).
Interesting to put things into that perspective. It seems that the Stoics frequent meditation on struggle is to say something to the effect of "it could be worse". And it certainly could be. Good to acknowledge that in order to more quickly get back to moving forward.
Image: "Coaching" by Shane McGraw Accessed at flickr.com Unaltered / License link
A few months back, I attended one of my last doctoral seminar classes. In fact, if I remember correctly, it was two weeks after successfully defending the dissertation, which meant that I was no longer required to go - a detail I did not know until I tried to sign in and found my name wasn't on the roll. However, it was good that I was there to hear a research topic proposal presentation that I have been thinking about ever since.
Unfortunately, I no longer have the proposal paper and cannot rightfully credit the person doing the research. He was looking at a music education pedagogy with similarities to athletic coaching. I don't remember all of the specifics, but I do remember being struck by how well this seemed to adapt to theatre education at the high school.
Then, this evening, I was listening to The Art of Manlinesspodcast while ironing clothes for the week. This particular episode (#405) was a conversation with a man named Sam Walker who has written a book called The Captain Class about how the captains of some of the most dominant sports teams are often not the best players, celebrity athletes, or known names. I didn't get far enough into the episode to get into the heart of the findings, but generally Walker's book discusses common components of these leaders' styles. That got me thinking about the research topic and how I might apply it to the high school theatre program where I teach.
I would like to take some time this summer to read about coaching psychology and methodology and see how it can be applied to the theatre program as a whole. I see the program defined by both the classroom instruction and the practical application of that work in the school productions and other performance opportunities (competitions, festivals, etc). How can athletic training be brought into both of those areas to improve my instruction and student learning? In what ways are these two environments similar and different? How much practical training is "enough" and how can psychology and education about training be implemented? How can I teach leadership in an arts-based curriculum?
Lots to learn. Looking forward it learning and putting it all to use!
The best way to write is to write. In fact, the best way to do anything is to do it. Seems the shoe company slogan ingrained in us late Gen-Xers was on to something.
After completing the dissertation in late December, I took a significant break from writing to allow myself time to decompress and let the reality of what I'd done (and what's to come) a little time to settle in. The honeymoon is over now and it is time to reestablish a writing routine to put the degree to use.
As always, and with anything, the greatest obstacle is time. And the way to "find" time is to make room for it. So as a way to get back into the swing of things without taking on more than my commitments allow, I am giving myself a 10 day writing challenge that begins today with this post. My goal is to take at least 10 minutes each day to share an idea on this blog no matter how small, or large, it may be. I know that having a loose outline is helpful for me to get things moving, so I have come up with a list of potential topics in case I don't find that occasionally elusive "inspiration" to write. While I would like the blog to focus primarily on my work in the theatre classroom, research, etc., but for now anything goes until I find my new groove.
So, mark off Day 1! I will see you back here tomorrow.
Theatre In Our Schools Month kicks off today and for the first time I am participating as the leader of a school drama club. Our state Thespian chapter shared a series of prompts for the occasion that were created by Thespian Troupe #5840 at Gloucester County Institute of Technology. I have adopted and shared these with the community at Lacey Township High School with the goal of getting as many students, teachers, staff, and community members involved in celebrating. While I look forward to seeing what they share, I am also excited to share a few things myself, particularly today with the prompt:
“Favorite song that you have performed or want to perform”
I am a huge musical theatre nerd. The history of the genre is fascinating to me and I have also been known to burst into song on occasion. This is something I usually try to keep under wraps, of course (unless I’m teaching upper elementary or middle school students whose appalled amusement is quite enjoyable), so it may come as a surprise to some reading this blog (and not quite a surprise to others, like those who live in my house).
Finding just one favorite song for this prompt is tricky. So here are a few that might fit the bill:
1. “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’!” from Oklahoma!
I’ve written about this song before and how much I like Hugh Jackman’s performance of it. This is an easy song to sing and I think I manage it pretty well in the car. Not a role I’d ever want to play, nor is it one in which I’d be cast. The character’s name (Curly) isn’t accidental!
2. “If I Can’t Love Her” from Beauty and the Beast
Similar to “Mornin’”, this is a great song to sing and way back when I was an auditioning actor (as opposed to a working one), this was one of my go-to songs. It fit my range well and the emotional depth of the song is moving. Terrence Mann sung the song well, but Josh Groben's pretty good, too.
3. “A Little Priest” from Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Sweeney Todd is my favorite musical. It has all of the Sondheim qualities to enjoy and is an amalgamation of performance styles that feel appropriate to, if not actually of, the Victorian era in which the story is set. “A Little Priest” is a good music hall / vaudeville routine that swings across the emotional and psychological spectrum of the murderous, vengeful Todd. I have never played Sweeney Todd - and would gladly welcome the chance to do so -, but did perform the song during my freshman year of college. In my undergraduate program, senior Honors students research and present a performance thesis at the end of the year. I was cast with three other students to perform a musical revue that included “A Little Priest” and the preceding “Epiphany” (another excellent song).
Click here to see Angela Lansbury & George Hearn perform this song.
4. “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid
That may seem like a goof, but file this song under “favorite that you want to perform” for me. A few years back, I was teaching a playwriting residency to a large group of 4th and 5th graders. We were talking about how sometimes a play is fueled by a character who wants, or needs, something that they feel they must have. This song popped into my head and I went with it... actually, I began singing it… and it worked. Ariel has everything she could possibly have, but what she really wants is a whole world away from her. We all feel like that at some point in our lives. It is also a good touchstone for younger audience members from elementary school to high school who can’t wait to get older and get out into the world to see what is beyond what they’ve always known.
Obviously, I will never play Ariel, but if there was ever a “miscast” performance like they do at MCC Theatre’s annual gala, this would be a song I’d like to sing. Or perhaps even “Never Go Back to Before” from Ragtime. That’s a good one, too.
5. "Lily’s Eyes" from The Secret Garden
When this show opened on Broadway, I fell in love with it to the point of jealousy when my sister received a copy of the novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. We lobbied to produce the play in college and when it was chosen for the season during my junior year, my friend Lou and I auditioned with “Lily’s Eyes”. We were cast in the roles of Archie & Neville Craven, respectively, and sang this song quite often. I couldn’t get enough of it. The song still moves me today and is absolutely the most favorite song I have performed.
My grandparents' neighborhood was a familiar one to me as a child. A few other relatives lived nearby and I remember playing with some of the neighborhood kids a few houses down. But when I was about 10 years old, I once caused a panic by leaving my grandparents' house for a walk to the edge of their neighborhood.
The story, as I remember it, was that my uncle took a dog for a walk. I don't remember if it was his dog, or a dog he was watching, but they went for a walk. At first, I didn't want to go, but soon after they left I changed my mind and decided I would just try to catch up. The remaining details of the story are fuzzy to me now, but I do remember seeing my uncle a way up ahead on a path heading into the woods by the river. I don't think I called out to him and probably figured I would just catch up so I went into the woods, too. But I never found my uncle. I passed a number of other people, most of them heading in the opposite direction and back out into the neighborhood.
Different trail near the same area CNY Hiking
This particular path followed the southern bank of the Mohawk River, a tributary of the Hudson River, which flows from Oneida County in Central New York (near where my grandparents lived) east to the Hudson near Albany. It was summer and the path was vibrant and verdant. I remember a big boulder or two and not thinking much about how far I must have walked, or how long I had been gone until I reached the end of the path by a major road. I quickly turned around and made good speed back to the entrance of the trail where I met up with a very worried family. I don't remember if the police were involved in searching for me, but do remember that I had left the family in that kind of panic.
This "exploring" - as I called it as a child - was something I did frequently. Some times it was a walk on the path through the woods behind my house; often it was a trek across neighborhoods on my bike. No matter the method of travel, these journeys make for some of my most enjoyable memories. Of course for these jaunts I made sure to let someone know where I was going. Once among the trees, I would see how far I could go before I couldn't see my house any more. I also tried to get "lost" and orient myself with familiar sites like friends' houses that backed up to the woods, the river path (the Seneca River, this time), or even the sewage treatment plant located deep in the forest. I continued the practice in college with walks along the Niagara River Gorge and even took to the mountains with friends during summer breaks. I even climbed peaks that, in retrospect, I was ill-equipped to manage. I've been on top of a few of the High Peaks in the Adirondack Park, but the pinnacle of these climbs was Mt. Washington in New Hampshire at 6,289 feet thanks in large part to my childhood friend who makes his living as a mountaineer and guide in Alaska for nearly 20 years now. My boneheaded stubbornness, and a youthful ignorance, also helped. Most people train before attempting these kinds of hikes, but I just went out and did it. (Although I've been mollified in this by learning that Theodore Roosevelt did much the same thing in conquering the peaks of the Adirondacks and even the Matterhorn!) All this to say that I am looking forward to walking again. It has been years since I've made a habit of it and while there can be a number of excuses why I haven't, perhaps it is best to say that our neighborhood is full of nature and very easy to explore: a good start to get back in the habit. The hikes I've taken with my Cub Scouts have encouraged me, too. And who knows... maybe I will wind up tackling another mountain, or two.