Too long, too long...
I just finished up a week as a counselor at a Theatre Camp here at my school and it was absolutely incredible. I've worked at camps and in child care before, but this was miles beyond everything I've done in the past. These kids are talented and bright (with a few exceptions to both of those adjectives), and they were excited about theatre. I can not express just how exciting that was to watch.
The campers moved in last Sunday afternoon and we spent the evening getting to know one another. It was awkward at first, sure. No one really knew anyone else. There were a few groups that knew each other from school, but most of them were just meeting each other and, of course, just meeting us, the counselors.
Day two, Monday, was marginally less awkward but there was still a lot of observing reactions and figuring people out. By the third day, though, we'd settled into a rhythm of sorts and things were getting better. By that time we'd assigned scenes and gotten to work on those. Watching these kids work was inspiring! Never have I asked a group of kids to get to work, and actually have them get excited about it!
The questions they asked about their scenes - and their monologues, when those were handed out on Wednesday - were intelligent and thought out. Seeing their work and seeing them implement the notes we gave them was humbling.
Yesterday, Saturday, we had a performance for their parents. I watched from the booth while I ran lights. Watching parents reactions to the work of their kids was satisfying beyond belief, as was having them thank us for the week. One parent nearly broke down in tears when we told her we thought her son was ready to move on to some more intensive coaching. She informed us that he always got shy when he performed at school. She had never seen him perform before! We were floored at this news and assured her that, given a few years with the right coaching, he could audition and get cast professionally.
One camper in particular stands out to me. She had attended this camp last year but almost didn't stick out the week this year. She's one of the most mature and grounded individuals I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and she's only fifteen. She wanted to go home because she felt she didn't fit in with the other kids. We encouraged her to talk to certain of the older kids, and the more mature ones, and to sit with us at meals. She opened up a little and we got to hear a little about her experiences in theatre prior to the camp.
Her high school director is, for lack of a better word, a cock. He keeps her working on things backstage because he doesn't think she "looks" like an actor. The only thing that will come of this is that an incredibly talented young lady will be turned off to the theatre. I promise you that when the only women actors left in theatre look and sound like actors on the O.C., no one will ever produce a show again. One of the joys of live theatre is that you get to see mistakes! You get to see people who aren't perfect!
We gave this young lady a Joan of Arc monologue from Richard II and she nailed it. There are actors twice her age that would butcher this piece, but her presence and voice filled the room when she performed. We're extending the camp next year to include a second week of intensive coaching for campers who are ready to begin auditioning for schools and professionally. One of the reasons is this young lady and the treatment she's received at the hands of her incompetent high school director.
After the performance yesterday this girl sought us out and presented us with gifts. I had mentioned to a few of the campers that I'm writing a play, and that I'm designing lights for two shows this coming season. She gave me a pen that lights up. She gave the other student counselor, Francine, a key chain that says "it's all GOOD" - a phrase that Francine utters quite often - and a "grow your own monkey" kit - because Francine's parents kept her on a leash as a child and I imagined her as a monkey. For the camp directors she got a picture frame that sings a song from FAME. This girl is thoughtful and intelligent and deserves the best coaching. I can guarantee she'll be the one getting jobs in the theatre when her high school peers who are so often put in front of her are struggling to find work.
I wish I could tell more of the stories here. The week was incredible. The bonding I witnessed and was a part of during our free time was stunning. I'm excited to be a part of it again next year. I've already agreed to do both weeks.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Working Hard AND Hardly Working!
I mentioned feelings of productivity in my previous post and I meant to return to that idea a little but things got away from me (as often happens when I begin telling a story) and I didn't. That's what follow up posts are for, right?
In January I was working full time to get a show up and running here at school. It was a J-Term class but essentially I was doing for free what I'd like to do for a living in the future, albeit in a much more comfortable setting. One day an idea struck me, and I mentioned it to my boss for the month: How would he feel about hiring me to do maintenance and work on some projects over the summer? He liked the idea but couldn’t officially give me an answer until a few months later (midway through April, I believe) and the deal was done.
So here I am, living on campus and working twenty hours a week in the theatre. It’s a lot of menial work, but it pays pretty well and my only coworker is a wonderful girl I got to know pretty well at the end of the school year. We’re currently working on cataloguing all of our large props, which involves clearing shelves, taking a picture of every item, and getting everything back on the shelves tidier than we found it. It involves a lot of climbing and there is more dust than I’ve seen in my life on some of the shelves, but all in all, it’s pretty low stress.
However, the twenty hour work week means that I have a three day weekend as well as afternoons and evenings to do whatever I want. I’m not taking a summer class (yet) so I have no homework. I mentioned quite awhile ago that I’m working on writing a play. I’ve continued to work very hard on it and it is currently about twenty pages long and (I think) nearly finished. I’ve shared it with three or four people and gotten some positive feedback and some great critiques. My challenge now is making some of the choppy sections flow a little better and generally cleaning things up.
I’ve also been reading. A friend mentioned that she was reading a great novel, so I decided to look into it. I’m about two hundred pages into Alexander Theroux’s seven hundred page book Darconville’s Cat. Theroux has a pretentious writing style, often referencing obscure stories in both Greek and Roman mythology, as well as other classic literature, but occasionally he comes through with something absolutely beautiful. I’ve enjoyed the book so far and I’m excited to finish it as it’s been a very long time since I finished reading a book out of sheer love of reading.
I’ve also been reading many short plays in preparation for the directing classes I’ll be taking this coming school year. The final project of the second semester of the class is to present a half-hour one act play. My roommate was scrambling to find a show he’d like to direct when the assignment was given this past spring, and I know the majority of the class was worried that they hadn’t read enough plays to have anything to choose from. So I bought a little notebook in which I’ve kept notes on the plays that I read, including the title, playwright, number of characters (and the genders thereof) and what I thought of each play. I’ve surprised even myself with how well I’ve kept up on these notes and I’ve read at least one play a day since I got back to campus.
As an aside to that, if anyone reading has any suggestions of short plays I should look into, please let me know. Keep in mind, however, that I have no budget and a limited amount of time in which to actually work on the show. Simple is wonderful.
On top of all of the reading and writing I’ve been doing, my summer roommate, Scotty, and I cleaned our room in a big way. It was an absolute disaster zone and we now have actual floor space. I also spent two hours this afternoon scrubbing the disgusting bathroom attached to our room, which means that I won’t feel dirty again the instant I step out of the shower.
Now, noble reader, is probably where you’re thinking to yourself, Sure, he’s been productive all week, but summer has just begun! I know, I know, but I have a million other ideas for the rest of the summer. I plan to continue tweaking and cleaning up my play (challenge the first: give it a name). I also want to write sonnets. I have notes and a few lines written for a few of them, and I have an overall theme (which I don’t want to reveal just yet). I hope that by the end of the summer I’ll have become a writer that one could describe as “prolific.”
I’ve also got a list of books to read. It’s short at the moment, only because there are so many that I’d like to read that I’ve forgotten what they all are. Here’s the list at the moment:
Again, please add to this list for me. I’m missing many titles and I have a lot of time on my hands.
Well. Now that I’ve turned in one of the longest entries I’ve ever written, I’m going to get ready for an evening of (probably drunken) revelry.
In January I was working full time to get a show up and running here at school. It was a J-Term class but essentially I was doing for free what I'd like to do for a living in the future, albeit in a much more comfortable setting. One day an idea struck me, and I mentioned it to my boss for the month: How would he feel about hiring me to do maintenance and work on some projects over the summer? He liked the idea but couldn’t officially give me an answer until a few months later (midway through April, I believe) and the deal was done.
So here I am, living on campus and working twenty hours a week in the theatre. It’s a lot of menial work, but it pays pretty well and my only coworker is a wonderful girl I got to know pretty well at the end of the school year. We’re currently working on cataloguing all of our large props, which involves clearing shelves, taking a picture of every item, and getting everything back on the shelves tidier than we found it. It involves a lot of climbing and there is more dust than I’ve seen in my life on some of the shelves, but all in all, it’s pretty low stress.
However, the twenty hour work week means that I have a three day weekend as well as afternoons and evenings to do whatever I want. I’m not taking a summer class (yet) so I have no homework. I mentioned quite awhile ago that I’m working on writing a play. I’ve continued to work very hard on it and it is currently about twenty pages long and (I think) nearly finished. I’ve shared it with three or four people and gotten some positive feedback and some great critiques. My challenge now is making some of the choppy sections flow a little better and generally cleaning things up.
I’ve also been reading. A friend mentioned that she was reading a great novel, so I decided to look into it. I’m about two hundred pages into Alexander Theroux’s seven hundred page book Darconville’s Cat. Theroux has a pretentious writing style, often referencing obscure stories in both Greek and Roman mythology, as well as other classic literature, but occasionally he comes through with something absolutely beautiful. I’ve enjoyed the book so far and I’m excited to finish it as it’s been a very long time since I finished reading a book out of sheer love of reading.
I’ve also been reading many short plays in preparation for the directing classes I’ll be taking this coming school year. The final project of the second semester of the class is to present a half-hour one act play. My roommate was scrambling to find a show he’d like to direct when the assignment was given this past spring, and I know the majority of the class was worried that they hadn’t read enough plays to have anything to choose from. So I bought a little notebook in which I’ve kept notes on the plays that I read, including the title, playwright, number of characters (and the genders thereof) and what I thought of each play. I’ve surprised even myself with how well I’ve kept up on these notes and I’ve read at least one play a day since I got back to campus.
As an aside to that, if anyone reading has any suggestions of short plays I should look into, please let me know. Keep in mind, however, that I have no budget and a limited amount of time in which to actually work on the show. Simple is wonderful.
On top of all of the reading and writing I’ve been doing, my summer roommate, Scotty, and I cleaned our room in a big way. It was an absolute disaster zone and we now have actual floor space. I also spent two hours this afternoon scrubbing the disgusting bathroom attached to our room, which means that I won’t feel dirty again the instant I step out of the shower.
Now, noble reader, is probably where you’re thinking to yourself, Sure, he’s been productive all week, but summer has just begun! I know, I know, but I have a million other ideas for the rest of the summer. I plan to continue tweaking and cleaning up my play (challenge the first: give it a name). I also want to write sonnets. I have notes and a few lines written for a few of them, and I have an overall theme (which I don’t want to reveal just yet). I hope that by the end of the summer I’ll have become a writer that one could describe as “prolific.”
I’ve also got a list of books to read. It’s short at the moment, only because there are so many that I’d like to read that I’ve forgotten what they all are. Here’s the list at the moment:
- The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
- Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
- Everything is Illuminated - Jonathan Safran Foer
Again, please add to this list for me. I’m missing many titles and I have a lot of time on my hands.
Well. Now that I’ve turned in one of the longest entries I’ve ever written, I’m going to get ready for an evening of (probably drunken) revelry.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Every Day is a New Year
The next few months are looking to be exciting and entertaining. I haven’t been on campus a full week yet but already I feel more productive than I have in months. I think this makes up for just how useless I felt when I was at home. I enjoyed my time home but I felt like I wasn’t getting anything done. I suppose the change really did come with the meeting of the POETS. So my time at home wasn't a complete loss.
Speaking of which, I promised a little background on the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
In high school, my friend Gringo and I were involved in the creation of our school’s annual literary magazine. As such, we came into contact with quite a number of great writers (as well as some people with pens and not a clue how to turn a phrase). One of the people we met was a quiet guy who, in my previous post, I referred to as both brother St. Louis and Tree. This young man wrote some fantastic poetry and was always a joy to be around. Sadly, Tree and I lost contact when he moved south to participate in AmeriCorps activities, mostly in Louisiana if I remember correctly (which is improbable).
This past academic year has been rough for me, something I believe I mentioned previously. A few months ago Tree began posting a poem or two on that wonderful and awful networking site Facebook. I enjoyed the poem very much and sent Tree a little note telling him so. That sparked a flurry of correspondence that helped my state of mind quite a bit.
In our correspondence the idea of starting a church of poets was thrown out. We’d find a church building, take the windows and doors off to let the outside in and begin holding services. The Sabbath would begin at sundown on Friday and end at sunrise on Sunday, at which time we would walk outside into the light and go about living our lives until the next Sabbath. Inside the church, anything goes as long as no one gets hurt. There would be copious amounts of alcohol and weed, sex would be acceptable at any time, on any surface, with any willing partner. Sermons would come in the form of poetry and short plays, music would be a constant. The paintings in the church would change weekly at the whim of the artists.
For me, this is a lovely idea but what has stuck out to me, and to us as a whole I think, is the idea of gathering a group of artists to share creations with one another, as well as create. I love the idea of collectives, which is what this is, really. As I said last time, if it continues to grow and include more visual artists, musicians and thespians, the name might have to change, but for now we’re still the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
Speaking of which, I promised a little background on the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
In high school, my friend Gringo and I were involved in the creation of our school’s annual literary magazine. As such, we came into contact with quite a number of great writers (as well as some people with pens and not a clue how to turn a phrase). One of the people we met was a quiet guy who, in my previous post, I referred to as both brother St. Louis and Tree. This young man wrote some fantastic poetry and was always a joy to be around. Sadly, Tree and I lost contact when he moved south to participate in AmeriCorps activities, mostly in Louisiana if I remember correctly (which is improbable).
This past academic year has been rough for me, something I believe I mentioned previously. A few months ago Tree began posting a poem or two on that wonderful and awful networking site Facebook. I enjoyed the poem very much and sent Tree a little note telling him so. That sparked a flurry of correspondence that helped my state of mind quite a bit.
In our correspondence the idea of starting a church of poets was thrown out. We’d find a church building, take the windows and doors off to let the outside in and begin holding services. The Sabbath would begin at sundown on Friday and end at sunrise on Sunday, at which time we would walk outside into the light and go about living our lives until the next Sabbath. Inside the church, anything goes as long as no one gets hurt. There would be copious amounts of alcohol and weed, sex would be acceptable at any time, on any surface, with any willing partner. Sermons would come in the form of poetry and short plays, music would be a constant. The paintings in the church would change weekly at the whim of the artists.
For me, this is a lovely idea but what has stuck out to me, and to us as a whole I think, is the idea of gathering a group of artists to share creations with one another, as well as create. I love the idea of collectives, which is what this is, really. As I said last time, if it continues to grow and include more visual artists, musicians and thespians, the name might have to change, but for now we’re still the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
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