“25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” in the rearview of nostalgia

So yeah, all of our shows are memorable. All are life journeys. All make memories that we keep forever. But this one -- dramatic pause -- this one was something different, something special. The cast was so perfect, the performances all so wonderful. From about the fifth week on, it was clearly a show that everyone was going to have trouble saying good-bye to. We happened onto something truly meaningful to do with our pre-show circle time. One night, we each shared a piece of audience feedback we'd gotten; another evening, we shared our favorite parts of the show; and again, on another night, we went around the circle and shared what line or song lyric was stuck in our heads. It was all wonderful and heartfelt sharing. I woke up in the middle of the night on the Saturday before our closing Sunday thinking about what items from this show should go in the Props Hall of Fame. At the Dungeon where we rehearse, we have the Props Hall of Fame shelves where we display and label memorable stuff from each production we’ve done. I rifled though the list of show props in my head and tried to make decisions about what should go on the shelf for this show; there were just too many. Suddenly, the idea came into my head to create a Time Capsule for this show -- and put many props into it -- to capture the joy and the memories I know we’ll all have. Using the cooler that Mitch Mahoney uses for the juice boxes he gives to spellers who miss their words, we put the following items: • Olive Ostrovksy’s pink headband • The bell from the spelling table • Mitch Mahoney’s home detention ankle bracelet • The Coneybear family phone • Rona Lisa Peretti’s realtor pin • Marcy Park’s yellow beret • Leaf Coneybear’s fanny pack • An empty peanut M & Ms package • Chip Tolentino’s boy scout sash • Olive’s mother’s scarf • One of Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre’s lapel pins • Dan Dad’s hairbrush • Carl Dad’s bow tie • Jesus’ heart patch • A playbill • A ticket • A spelling bee ribbon • A spelling bee number • A copy of the curtain speech And then, everyone signed the cooler with a black marker. It will now go on the top shelf of the Props Hall of Fame, and whenever we need a little dose of 25PCSB, we can open it, and remember our Spelling Bee family.

A Love Letter to the Cast of "Spelling Bee"

It’s just 45 minutes before I need to be at rehearsal. I’m presently working on the costume plot for “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.” For me, and maybe for others, there’s nothing like making a list or a chart for focusing. It narrows the big picture somewhat; organizes what needs to be done; breaks things down into pieces that can be chewed and swallowed (note to self: don’t forget to grab something to eat before leaving the house). In clicking around, I came across this blogpost. It ends up as a love letter to tech week – um, IS there such a thing – but it starts out in a nightmare scenario. I read it with horror and sympathy. And for the gazillionth time, I reflect on how amazingly lucky I am with CrazyLake. I have the most amazing – hold on – let me check the thesaurus….let’s go with ‘extraordinary’ for this paragraph – group of people surrounding me. This team of actors – all of you so perfect in your parts, your work ethic beyond reproach, the chemistry and companionship between all of you. How, HOW did I get so lucky? I looked around rehearsal last night and saw that most of you were off book – a week ahead of our deadline. We paused very few times during the stop and start rehearsal, and I ended up giving maybe four notes during the run-through. Is the show already THAT perfect? We have never had a tech week on the disastrous scale of the one in the blog post. I firmly believe that you – my cast and crew – are my clients, the ones from whom the feedback truly matters. I want you to have a good time in CrazyLake. As the director, one of my goals is to make SURE that the stress – any stress – falls on me – not on you, the actor. I know I push, and I set deadlines and I give notes and notes and notes – but another one of my goals is to make sure you are ready to perform. When I send you out there in front of god and everyone – your families, your friends and neighbors, the Greenfield dignitaries – that you are ready, that any nervousness is nervous energy you can channel into your performance and not nervousness for lack of preparation. The set is ready; the costumes are complete; props are in place; lights and sound and entrances and exits are all rehearsed – nothing is left to chance. We are all bonded long before Hell Week; we are dark the night before the performance so everyone CAN hit the boards rested and ready to go. Nothing is left to chance. I belong to a Theatre Director/Teacher Facebook group, and the anguished and horrific situations that some of these directors face are jaw-dropping: actors quitting, permission to use performance spaces revoked, equipment breaking down, entire bags of costumes accidentally thrown away. The stress of the one posting is palpable. It’s hard to read their stories. And I know, oh, I KNOW how lucky I am. The planets aligned when my path crossed with Amy Studabaker. The teams of people that I have assembled both for on the stage and behind the scenes, like a giant wad of blue tape pulled from the painted set, these people came to KPCL and just…got stuck to the ball of tape. And I love them for it. You guys are the absolute best. At everything you do. I know we’re only halfway to a show, but man, it is lookin’ good, eh? I love you all and I’ll see you at rehearsal. https://www.onstageblog.com/columns/2015/11/3/an-open-letter-to-tech-week?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR16ipqTopOfnYCco4n-S9kk1Lap0nffCX8mTpqdAhu9_w8wyza3dznftaM_aem_AU8A_vUQ8RqG9m2KI0qUTk3ovYQp4v_9U0XCjNALNKkLOt1bNwYFp-BM2Qw7x1ut_efH8VDc7Ktj82ptgustvs7Y

"What Would You Pay?"

 

We have a tradition at KidsPlay – actually, we have many traditions – this is just one of them. About halfway through our rehearsal process, the kids start asking me, “What would you pay?”

The question refers to the price of our tickets – which are $5 each and have been $5 each since 1997 when we started. 

“What would you pay, Chris,” they ask, “to see this show?”

Early on, my answer is likely to be, “Pay?!!? PAY??? Are you kidding? I wouldn’t pay to see this show! YOU would have to pay ME to see this show!!”

Later on, the answer might be, “$1.75. This show is only worth $1.75.” And the kids understand that they need to step it up.

The kids are happy when things break even at $5. The show is finally worth $5 of entertainment. People will be getting a fair value of what they’re paying to see us.

However, if I may, these kids are good. I know, and they know that the REAL goal is not just to break even, not just to give the audience an average kiddie theatre play, but to go beyond. To surpass “cute” -- which is what most children’s theatre is -- and get to REAL entertainment. REAL authentically entertaining performances. Real laughs. Belly laughs. Not polite applause at the end of the show, but enthusiastic applause for a show that was truly entertaining.

KidsPlay has done a lot of good shows: “Altar Egos,” “Mermaid in Miami,” “Caught in the Act,” “Dr. Evil and the Basket of Kittens,” “Annie Play Will Do.” 

Spoiler: this one – the one we’re in the middle of right now – “Gravestone Manor,” will take its place among the ranks of the best.

Last night’s Dress-to-Impress Dress Rehearsal, in front of the children’s teachers and special guests, was proof of that. Everything that we’ve worked on for WEEKS fell magically into place.

Lines that have long since ceased to be funny (due to continuous repetition in rehearsal) came alive thanks to the excellent comedic timing of Anthony Stunda (Griffin the G-host) and Reese Weitekamp (Luna the Wolf-Girl); the tandem screams of Ellie Stearns and Kyndall Watkins (Stella and Adele trapped in a haunted house); the adorability and facial expressions of Aria Studabaker (Emily interviewing monsters for under her bed); ridiculous songs about werewolves and cookies; precisely timed magical sound effects; Jackson Martinez (Bane the Wolf-Boy) standing on the couch and turning around and around before settling down.

The show fired on all cylinders. Our audience of about 40 laughed and laughed and laughed. 

Every show has its challenges. This one has been scene changes, costume changes and make-up – most of which, are amazingly executed in less than a minute. Standing ovation to the stage crew, the make-up artists and the parents helping backstage. 

Last evening, after the show, the kids greeted their teachers, changed out of their costumes, got a snack and sat down for notes. I often tell them, “It is not my job to tell you how good you are; that is the job of your parents and grandparents. MY job is to tell you what you need to do to get better.” And because of that, performance notes following the rehearsals are typically lists of constructive criticism with very few purely positive comments. 

But last night was different. Oh, sure, this could have been better and that could have been better, but the audience’s laughter said it all. The last question of the night was, as always, “Chris, what would you pay?”

The kids are happy when that price goes above $5. Five dollars is a bargain for what we are putting up there on that stage. They’re happy when it goes to, say, $7.50. Audience members are paying $5, but the entertainment value is worth more than that: $7.50. $9.00, $11.00….

“Chris, what would you pay?” And they hold their breath.

“$15.00.” Yes, it is really THAT good. Come and see for yourself.

All Hearts Come Home at Show Time

 I’m finding that the older I get, the more nostalgic I am. And the more appreciative of those around me. Last evening was the fourth performance (out of six) of our summer musical, “Once Upon a Mattress.” 

I always start out with “I can’t begin to put into words….” And then I go ahead and put into words….what it feels like, what it means to me to do a show, to be the matriarch of this incredible, wonderful, amazing theatre family.

This show has 10, count ‘em, 10 former KidsPlayers in it. Yes, with 25 years under my belt, some of my KidsPlayers are grown. They are in high school, college, young adults, married and some with second generation KidsPlayers of their own. Conversely, there are 10 among us who have never been in a CrazyLake show before and these people grow the CrazyLake family even more.

The marvels of the people I work with. Amy -- my co-director, my choreographer and vocal director, my costumer, the soft voice to my constant barking -- actually records and creates tracks for each vocal part of every song so that the sopranos and the altos and the tenors and (an octave higher) the basses can all learn their parts note for note. She does the choreo, videoing the rehearsals so the cast can rehearse at home. 

Between our two costume collections, we were able to put something on each and every actor. Amy made just three costumes for this entire show: two for the queen and one for Princess Winnifred. The rest were alterations and repairs, done by Amy, Andy and me. 

Over the last 10 years of working together, Amy and I have become like interlocking puzzle pieces, finishing each other sentences, jumping to do something almost before the other realizes it needs to be done. We are two skill sets that match perfectly to do what we do.

Amy is also in the booth, along with Brent on the light board and Jeff upstairs on the spot. Neither of these two guys have a horse in this race, but they are here for the camaraderie and the stories they can tell afterward. Jeff, whose kids are in KidsPlay, stepped up when we needed a spot operator. He, also, is one of those guys who asks what needs to be done, and, however menial the task (“The backstage cooler needs restocked with ice and water….”), he gets it done. And Brent, a KidsPlay parent and occasional CrazyLake actor…I think Brent has a touch of FOMO (fear of missing out). Lol. He wouldn’t have missed this behind-the-scenes experience for the world.

Backstage, we have Blair and Allison -- two of the aforementioned KidsPlay grads – and Andy, moving the set, fixing the occasional prop, taking care of the actors and calling the show. As sure as the sun is going to rise each morning, these three are at their posts, standing guard and always ready with encouragement for everyone.

And then there’s Corey, the hero of tech week. We ended up having seven cases of COVID among the cast, including me. I missed two of the tech rehearsals. All it took was one phone call to Corey and he was there to stand in for me, to give notes and help Amy in the booth. 

Thanks to COVID, I missed the move-in, too, but Jeff and Dennis (the prodigal son returned home) managed to get the set dismantled in the Dungeon, loaded into the KidsPlay trailer, moved and reassembled at the Ricks without Amy or me being present. We were able to assemble the entire set from flats and set pieces we already had. Moral of the story? Never throw anything away!

All of which brings me around to the nostalgia. Actors come and actors go. The younger ones grow up; they go off to college; sometimes they come back to Greenfield, but sometimes not. They have kids. They get busy. For the older ones, there are life changes. Children move away and sometimes they move with them. They, too, get busy. Life moves on. 

But these shows that we do bring everyone home. Last night’s audience brought in the Browns from northern Indiana; Evan from southern Indiana; Nancy from Alexandria; the Roots from Morristown; my former boss from Fishers. The Coles were there and the Gawrys-Strands and the other Browns and the Harts. A good number of these people were there for the second time, thanks to the CrazyLake Groupie Program. And it’s been like this for every performance. I’m surrounded by friends and former actors. They stayed after the curtain call to greet friends and family on stage and to hang out for hugs and congratulations. It’s just wonderful. Warm and wonderful.

And if you look up, where the stage lights are still on, you can see it. You don’t even have to squint. It’s the love, hanging up there in the air like glittery stardust. We are family. Forever and ever. Do a show together and you’ve taken a life journey together. You’ve formed a bond that will never break no matter the life changes, no matter how far away you travel. And in the end, all hearts come home at show time.

An Open Letter to the Cast of "Assassins"

I want to try and say what’s in my heart about this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I’ve had to be a part of the “Assassins” team. Heh. That doesn’t sound quite right, but so be it.

At the beginning of this week, I did not know how I was going to survive it. Three to four rehearsals a week suddenly became eight straight days of rehearsals/performances for Buck Creek’s production of “Assassins.” However, as the week progressed, the evenings spent at the Buck Creek Playhouse became the highlight of my day. I think I will never grow tired of watching this incredible show.

Did I mention I was the assistant director for this show? I use that term loosely. I’m the Joe Biden of the team. Scott Robinson is a one-man directing phenomenon, the alpha and the omega of the stage; actors clamber to work with him because he is king. He no more needs me there than Batman needs Robin. But in his graciousness, he took me on as an intern, an apprentice, and gave me the incredible gift of permission to sit at the right hand of the master.

There are not enough words to thank him for this humbling and life-changing experience of being a part of this incomparable show. What he assembled for “Assassins” has to be one of the most gifted collective of actors ever to grace a stage. Truly, after watching these eight weeks, I cannot make up my mind as to who is the strongest performer in the show. 

Is it Scott as Giuseppe Zangara, whose hatred wafts over the audience like a hot desert wind during “How I Saved Roosevelt”? Or is his best moment when he sneers his way through difficult Italian phrases or when he thrusts his gun into the air with the others on “Another National Anthem”?

Is it Trenton as John Hinckley Jr. whose young adult angst is painful to watch? I actually feel sorry for him as he’s mercilessly bullied by the Squeaky Fromme character. He sings a duet with Stacia (Squeaky) which has got to be one of the unsung high points of the performance. His character sings to Jodie Foster and hers sings to Charlie Manson and they have delivered it flawlessly night after night. It has the stuff of a top-40 love ballad and you can get caught up in the pain and yearning of the lyrics, until you remember the creepiness of their fixations.

Stacia as the aforementioned Squeaky:  even as a background character in some of the scenes, her presence on the stage draws your eye. The tension between the conflicted characters is palpable; you can see it and you can smell it; and then you see her inhaling it like secondhand smoke, like an intoxicating gas and then she clearly thrives on it. For Squeaky, if there is strife in the room, all is right with the world.

Cathy as the inept Sarah Jane Moore:  she and Stacia are, yes, the comic relief in a show called “Assassins.” She has an innate understanding of her role in this show. Her Midwestern twang, nuanced line delivery and facial expressions in reaction to Hulen’s Manson-obsessed treatises will steal the show.

Mark IS John Wilkes Booth -- the wig, the ‘stache, the coat, the GLOVES. The resemblance is remarkable. He is capable of taking the audience from disgust to empathy to respect even, for singing out his heartfelt indictment of Abraham Lincoln. His velvety vocals, his rapid-fire delivery, finally, and finally, his smoothly chilling handling of Lee Harvey Oswald in the Book Depository is enough to induce stress dreams.

Luke:  throughout the show, he plays the Balladeer, a calm and reasonable voice to challenge the persuasive Proprietor, played by Steven Linville, as if he were a carnival barker in a Stephen King book. How can this gentle person play this evil person so convincingly? More nightmares.

But back to Luke… When the ensemble parts and exits, you suddenly see the Balladeer, no longer in his good-natured woodsman’s flannel shirt. Suddenly, he is in a vaguely recognizable, plain white t-shirt, in a room surrounded by cardboard boxes. As the location of the scene slowly dawns on the over-50 crowd, you can cut the tension with a knife. Booth and the rest of the assassins sooth Oswald’s conscience and play to his need for recognition – and when Squeaky does the honors (you see on her face that she is VERY honored) of handing over the Mannlicher-Carcano, the audience will hold its breath. It is touch and go for a moment, and when Oswald finally accepts the rifle, we are dismayed, almost as if our silent collective of ‘no…no…don’t’ could actually change history.

Jake’s portrayal of the forgotten Leon Czolgosz and Daniel’s crazed reenactment of Sam Byck:  they both represent the common man in this show, so don’t be shocked when you realize that you totally understand their points of view. McDuffee’s melodic bass voice adds much to the harmonies and you can feel his disappointment in the only life he’ll ever have in his moments of silent brooding. As for Byck, be grossed out all you want by the filthy wife-beater t-shirt he wears under his Santa suit, but he’s right. He’s 100% right. Who DO we believe? And yes, we ARE scared. And what can we do about it? One can’t help but think of the chaos of the 2016 election cycle as bits of greasy French fry particles fly from his mouth during his diatribe and stick to the microphone of his tape recorder. He delivers a magnificently brilliant performance and never once loses the crazed look in his eyes.

One of my favorite parts of the show is watching David, as Charles Guiteau, react to Squeaky’s explanation of why lipstick is red. It’s just a small moment, but it speaks to the dedication of Wood to his craft. Another actor would have pulled a horrified face and gone for the laugh, but I’ve seen the seriousness of Wood’s approach to character as he walks through his part pre-performance every night. As he listens to her rambling about the cancerous guts of mice, his expression changes – without moving his face. No really. I detect no movement, yet his expression before, and then after, is noticeably different. His irrepressible Guiteau is likable to the end, in his dapper hat and suit coat, albeit with no shoes (a factual detail). He tries to woo Sarah Jane Moore, and impress Byck with his toast. He sings and dances to the gallows and we are sad and horrified at the sound of his neck snapping.

Finally, I am even in awe of the ensemble: Michael, Jessica, Logan, Bryan and Mary. Their animated performance as members of the crowd is so wonderful that you truly don’t know whom to watch. The assortment of expressions, gestures and behind the action vignettes is highly entertaining. I’ve taken to smiling throughout their numbers and I’m glad I’ve gotten to see the show so many times because while watching Jessica and Bryan, I miss what Mary, Michael and Logan are doing. If I’m watching Mary, Michael and Logan, then I miss what Jessica and Bryan are doing. I’m just glad I was there when Bryan lifted Jessica into the air so she could more easily see and be seen. Bahahaha!

So. It’s been an incredible ride. And I can’t thank everyone enough for taking me in to the Buck Creek family, talking to me, listening to my small notes, and – tee-hee – Friending me on Facebook. Words can’t express how honored I am to be a part of this production. I can’t wait to watch it again tonight—and eight more times after that. Mostly, I can’t WAIT to see the audience’s reaction.  And I very much hope they understand that they are seeing more than a musical – so much more. Break a leg tonight, guys.

With love and respect---

Chris 

Theatre Magic Can't Be Denied

It has been more than a year since my last post here, but I feel that Friday night's performance of Paranormal High School needs to recognized here in the annals of KidsPlay's history.

KidsPlay, for those of you who are reading here for the first time, has been in existence for 18 years.  In that time, we have done 36 shows:  one in the spring and one in the fall.  Our actors are in the 3rd through 8th grades, after which they "graduate" from KidsPlay and go on to their high school theatre departments.  In the spring of 2014, we lost ten 8th grade graduates; in the spring of 2015, we lost another eight to high school.  That's a lot of talent, so we are definitely in a rebuilding phase.

Oh, make no mistake--the talent is there.  The mantle of leadership has passed to Brynn Elliott and Nolan Espich, Autumn Foster, Grace Kemp and Allison Kirklin, Lainie Lawrence, Luke McCartney and Tyler Pipkin.  These kids carry the show on their shoulders.  They set the example and give guidance and advice to the youngers in the cast.  I count on them for so many things, both spoken and unspoken.  Without them, KidsPlay would be a sad group indeed.

Since the fourth week of rehearsals for Paranormal High School, I have felt a bit discouraged about this show.  It was suffering from the loss of last year's talent.  It lacked the physical comedy and blatant edgy humor of previous KidsPlay shows.  The kids struggled with character, lines, and the sometimes-scary nature of the show. The characters were mostly normal people with only moderately-humorous dialogue.   Rehearsals were fun, but mostly routine.  I felt I hadn't picked a good script for this particular group of actors.  It was just, across the board, a flat show.  Meh.  There's always next show.

*********************

As most of you know, I HATE the phrase "it all come together in the end."  My response?  Well, YES, it does, but not by magic.  A lot of HARD work, preparation and planning, hard work, attention to detail, hard work and communication go into the making of a show.  We want it to LOOK like magic; ergo, most people think it IS magic.  Wrong.  You've got, got, got to lay the all-important groundwork.

H-O-W-E-V-E-R....I can no longer discount the existence of Theatre Magic.

What happened on Friday night, when we put these kids in front of a live, LAUGHING audience, was nothing short of miraculous, undeniable MAGIC.  The audience response to our lively, funny, fast-paced show was phenomenal!  Laughter, applause.  Seriously, what more could you ask?

Our leadership, our star power was out there, delivering lines that had long-since ceased to amuse--  delivering them with comedic timing to die for, timing that would be the envy of any Broadway actor.  And getting laughs!

• Brynn Elliott, previously known for playing mostly 'straight man' parts is suddenly the Queen of Comedy.  
• Luke McCartney has been honing his acting skills since attending the CrazyLake Drama Camp in KINDERGARTEN.  He drew not just a line between his feigned 'bad actor' performance and his 'good actor' performance, he put the Grand Canyon between the two different characters when he threw down his copy of Macbeth (no spoilers; you'll have to seen the show) and delivered some of Shakespeare's most famous dialogue.
• Tyler Pipkin, Allison Kirklin making sure the audience understood not only the plot of the play, but the plot of Macbeth  with LONG paragraphs of dialogue, delivered with enthusiasm, humor and interest.
• Grace Kemp.  Shudder....  Grace Kemp as the ghost of a dead actress still looking to play her most famous role.  If the hair doesn't stand up on the back of  your neck, then you must be Stephen King.

But oh, oh, OH that up-and-coming talent:

• Show-Stealer Olivia Alldredge grabbing the mic from Nolan and pushing Wal-Mart like Flo pushes Progressive Insurance, 
• First-Timer Bailey Chrabascz in her first time on stage and probably the first time she's ever yelled as the frustrated television producer of "Paranormal Discovery" 
• First-Time Ella Kleiman in her possessed performance as Lady Macbeth.  Yes, Ella 'gets' Lady Macbeth and it's chilling.
• Future Character Actor Corbin Elliott and the physical comedy HE-HIMSELF added to the locked-door scene
• the Inimitable Olivia Greer and the Fearless Ashley Pipkin, both students, and both coming up with enough background 'stage business' to entertain the audience AND the stage crew behind the curtain.
• the Incredible Carter Willey and his mannered performance as Principal Wolf brought both laugher AND applause at his entrances and exits.

Yeah, it DID all come together. And I haven't been this excited after an opening night in a long time. 

*******************

PS--Any actors that I didn't hug after last night's show, see me this evening and I'll correct that oversight. <3 div="">

"Live Theatre--Gotta Love It"

So.  Sydera hung her wig on the 'hot lights' (we really should have put tape over that switch) and it melted.  The inside was blackened in several areas.  The blond hair fused together and turned dark brown in places.  When they brought it to me, it was still too hot to touch.  But a serious session with a curling iron, scissors and the addition of a feathered bow made of feathers from her boa and it was passable.  The show moved forward and she went on, just as hilarious as usual.

Trever went to pick up the kitchen chair for his 'lion-tamer bit', and the top of it just popped off.  He took it in stride, waving it about as if he were Charles Atlas himself.  Glad Rachelle wasn't there to see it.  That vintage table and chair kitchen set is a favorite of hers.  Chris entered moments later and point-blank asked him, IN the show, "Did you break this?"  Trever said, "I'm sorry!"  And Chris proceeded to try and put it back together as best she could.

Zane's phone, upside down and tangled in the legs of his ladder; and then, when it came time for him to stand, his foot got caught in the ladder.  Thank goodness he's already playing a doofus....  (<3 p="">
Then, during Trever's frenetic dash to try and get his mother's head out of the oven, the flat rolled a little and the refrigerator door swung open.  Dennis, our Safety Chairman, had us remove the latch so that no kids would ever get locked in accidentally.  The door just very slowly opened all the way up--180 degrees.  Glad I took the time to fill the 'never-seen' inside of it with a painted milk bottle, fruits and vegetables, bowls, and other stuff to give it that 'real fridge' look.  Trever eventually glanced over at it, gave one of his patented Trever-startle jumps, got up and closed it.

It's funny, that in theatre, we strive for the flawless, perfectly-executed performance, yet it's these stories--of which there are many, worse and funnier than these--that live in infamy.

• Geoffrey's inability to 'find Freddie'
• the picture that fell off the wall during 'the chase' and each cast member that ran by stopped and tried to rehang it, but then was forced to resume the chase sequence before the job was completed, until finally 'the mystery hand' appeared through the door and slowly slid it into place
• an orange juice glass that went flying
• Austin stuffing his mouth with the picnic cookies backstage during the final performance, forgetting that he had to come on stage and say a line immediately after
• Jesse forgetting his photographs 'in the bushes'
• pants that fell down during the dance
• a fake cigarette accidentally set on fire
• fog machines that set off the smoke alarm
• An 'F-bomb' dropped by the Catholic school teacher during the Lord's Day matinee 
• a missed entrance, leaving two 6th grade girls to ad-lib ten minutes of dialogue while sitting on a bench at the county fair--until they finally decided to 'call it a day' and go get a lemon shake-up

And many more....  Classics, now.  These are the things we talk about, late into the night at Steak n' Shake, remembering.  Laughing hysterically.  And me, the director, trying to frown, insisting that a mistake-free performance is the bar we're reaching for, but laughing in spite of myself all the same.

Live theatre.  You gotta love it.

"Let Me Wake Up in the Morning to Find I Have Somewhere Exciting to Go...."

     I leaped out of bed this morning.  Song lyrics coursing through my head.

     "Let me wake up in the morning to find I have somewhere exciting to go....."  Okay, yeah, that's from A Chorus Line but it applies here.  There should be an actor's version of this song.

     I'm just coming off of three nights of auditions for Bye Bye Birdie.  It will be the first ever CrazyLake musical.  Yes, I've come full circle now.  Bye Bye Birdie was the show I did in high school that started this whole theatre mess.  Reid LeFavour and Hilda Studabaker, wherever you are, thank you, thank you.  You have no idea how you have impacted my life.

     My co-director, music director and choreographer is Amy Studabaker--no relation to Hilda, but...certainly serendipitous, don't you think?  Last year, she was the music teacher at Mt. Vernon High School and I was the drama director--a job I stumbled into quite by accident.  I insisted upon meeting the person I with whom I would be working before even applying for the job.  We discovered that we were both from the same home town. of Bluffton...serendipitous x 2.  My family knew her family, and we have many touchstones in common, but to make a long story short, after she toured me through the building, we knew we were meant to be a team.

We worked one show together--The Music Man--at MV, and then she left on maternity leave and never came back.  End of story?  Not on your life!  When our high school production ended, she asked me, "So.  If I wanted to do some theatre, where would I go?"  [Oh, darlin', I'm so glad you asked!!]  And right then and there, Amy Studabaker and Christine Schaefer, two homegrown Bluffton girls, began laying the plans for CrazyLake's first musical, Bye Bye Birdie.

In the meantime, I directed Laughter on the 23rd Floor, a comedy that Amy took a small part in.  It was pretty much love at first sight between Amy and my CrazyLakers; our tight little family grew by one (two, if you count Patrick; three if you count Steve).  Amy directed her church choir; I directed another show at Mt. Vernon and a show at KidsPlay....and finally May , 2014, rolled into town.

Amy and I called in all our resources, all our markers.  We tapped into pockets of people we've been acquainting ourselves with from years past, shows past, jobs, past, friends, friends of friends, talented folks who lives we've touched and who have touched our lives, to come and audition for this show.

Auditions!  Such talent.  Such singers!  A preview of cra-a-a-a-zy choreography.  A demonstration of Amy's vocals.  Girls doing everything but setting their hair on fire to play the part of Kim.  Actors that knocked it out of the park for Albert, Mae Peterson, Hugo Peabody, and Ursula, and Mr. and Mrs. MacAfee.

I do believe that something's coming (thank you, West Side Story).  This could be the start of something big (thank you, Steve Allen).  The moon is in the seventh house, and Jupiter is aligned with Mars (thank you, Hair).  What I mean is, I haven't been this excited about a show and a cast in awhile--well, at least since the last show, but this is different.  New.  Alive.  Buzzing with energy and excitement.  And. I. Can't. Wait.

Once again, I marvel at the frantic, frenetic, drama-filled (on multiple levels) life I lead.  How lucky I am to be here, in this time, in this place, collaborating with, quite honestly, the most talented people I know.  HOW did we all end up HERE?  HOW NOW?  What stars aligned to bring us all together?  I don't know, but I like it.  I LOVE it.  Theatre makes every day a holiday.

   

   

What We Are Made Of...

Here is what we are made of:

I have these two young men who are co-starring in this show.  Both have been with KidsPlay since (at least) the third grade.  Both are very talented, but they bring very different skill sets to the stage. One of them, time and time again, has been my 'go-to guy' for the lead role, the dashing young hero, the love interest, the star of the show.  The other has been my 'go-to guy' for roles such as the clueless father, the king, the principal--in other words, the goofy sidekick, the 'funny guy' supporting role.  Both have made the absolute most of their very different characters.

This play, their final show together on the KidsPlay stage, is different.  They are paired together this time around, co-stars, equal billing, equal stage time.  Both are leaders.  Both are on stage for most of the show.  Both, in the past few days leading up to performance, have show the strain of being the ones to carry this show forward.  They have had their moments of stress, but both have bounced back the next rehearsal, ready for more.

A life in theatre is a life of criticism.  A director is constantly telling you what to do, how to improve.  In other words, "You're not good enough.  You're still not good enough.  You're okay now, but here's how to be even better."  And if you're a kid actor, then you have everybody from your older sibling, to your co-actors, to your backstage dad, to the lighting guy, for crissake, telling you what you're doing wrong and how to fix it.

My one lead guy, the one more used to the spotlight, has shined in this show.  I've reigned in his quirks, softened his vocals, and worked on making him more comedic than his previous 'straight man' roles have required.  My other lead guy has worked on slowing down, enunciating, and how to be more of a 'straight man' than he's played before, and how change up his line delivery.  I've worked with both of them on not upstaging each other, on being a team.  And to be honest, it's been a challenge.

Last night, at our Preview Performance, all I had hoped for came to pass.  An equally shared spotlight, continuity, smooth line delivery, flawless interaction.  Their individual performances blended together seamlessly into one co-performance.  Notes following the show, were full of praise for the one who had always played second-fiddle to the other on his spontaneous cleverness, the off-the-cuff bits he added, his clarity of voice and his consistency of character.  Numerous moments of applause from the cast, sitting and listening to the compliments.  Even his co-star jumped on the band wagon with praise for his stage partner.

But afterwards, the young man who had been the star of so many KidsPlay shows, the recipient of many, many good notes, pats on the back, congratulations for his performances, came up to me and asked, in earnest sincerity, "Is there anything I can do differently to bring my performance up to ________'s level?"

That is what we are made of here.  Amazing attitudes.  An amazing sense of team.  The understanding that we are all in this together and that the improvement of one is the improvement of us all.  We are made of this, and more:

1)  Being able to take a beating with a duffle bag full of socks.
2)  Spending the better part of the performance in handcuffs.
3)  Running from stage right to stage left behind the theatre in the rain.
4)  Changing costumes not once, not twice, but three times, and sometimes with in the span of just a couple minutes.
5)  Having to handle a ventriloquist dummy and act like you're not totally creeped out.
6)  Wearing a bald cap for the entirety of the show.
7)  Kissing TWICE on stage ("Ew, boys."  "Ew, girls.").
8)  Dealing with the stuffy and crowded conditions backstage at the Ricks.
9)  Having a 'butt' sewn into your costume, and a brassiere stuff with kleenexes because you're a 5th grade girl playing a 70-year-old woman.
10)  Making mistakes--spilled water, a suitcase that won't open, a prop thrown off stage, costumes that won't stay on--that look like they were all part of the show.

All this, and still more.  And we cannot WAIT to show the audience what we're made of.

Why It's Hard to Find Good Children's Theatre Scripts: Example #692

From a collection of holiday plays.....


The name of the play is The Christmas Tree From Outer Space.

It is 12 pages long.

Within that 12 pages, it manages to introduce 16 characters, and this includes one double-cast (Man/Tree Salesman).  The list of characters includes (but is not limited to):  the Narrator, E. Tree, Queen Connifer, Treesa, Conifernicus, Palmala, Ministree, and having run out of 'clever' tree names, there are also, Tree #1, Tree #2, Tree #3, Tree #4, and Tree #5.

But wait, it gets better.

Setting:  Simple sets suggesting a Throne Room, the Planet Fred, Hollywood Boulevard, a living room and a Christmas tree lot--all within 12 pages of action.

Really??????

Oh, the Things We Acquire.....

Things we acquired for the past two KidsPlay shows (Attack of the Pom-Pom Zombies and Dr. Evil and the Basket of Kittens) that will probably go into deep storage never to be used again:

     1)  Five sets of wolf tales, furry gloves, and and ear hats.
     2)  Three metal period-style napkin holders (@$20 each...!!)
     3)  Four cast iron patio chairs.
     4)  A "Where's Waldo" costume and a mummy costume (that has had the seat sewn back in three times....)
     5)  Sixteen pairs of goggles.
     6)  Three foam core surfboards and 2 oars
     7)  Sixteen white lab coats.
     8)  Some 30 yards of tan and pink flowered ultra-suede material.
     9)  A Cher wig.
     10) A spinning bookshelf

Take note other theatre groups.  We are happy to rent or loan.  :-)

Godspell at Ten West

I went because it was Easter.  I went because I love the music.  I went because I wanted to see the inside of Ten West.  I went because I knew a couple of kids in the show....blah, blah, blah.  A longer list of reasons to go than not to go....so I did.

Godspell.  Done and redone.  Especially around Easter.  As it should be.  Godspell and Superstar are sometimes the only pseudo-religious education today's individual gets.  Nevertheless, a nostalgic show for me; one that tends to leaves me homesick for the friends who shared that time in my life and for the teenager who played and played and played her vinyl copy of that musical throughout the 70s and early 80s.

Ten West.  Clean.  Compact.  Impressive what they've done with their space.  Getting the maximum potential out of the facility, to be sure.  Seating for over 100.  Ceiling fans, windows covered by cloth to keep out unwelcome daylight for matinee performances.  Curtains for backstage and cast-and-crew only areas.

Technically pretty tight.  Decent lighting; good variety; a mix of recorded and live music; clever use of technology in the opening video sequence.

And this is where the detached analysis ends.  What happened next, when the eight teenaged cast members took the stage, was the stuff of theatre magic, and I knew I was witnessing something special.

No, no, they're not bound for Broadway or anything like that.  The show could have used some polish...some microphone help...some minor details...but what set it apart from the myriad of productions of Godspell that came before it was the vibe given off by the cast up there singing and dancing their hearts out.

This was Ten West's first real production, put together by a bunch of Little Rascals-style teenagers and one patriarch with vision.  It doesn't take much to imagine the initial conversation:  "We can sing.  We can dance.  We love theatre and we got this stage!  WE CAN DO THIS THING!!!"  And by Jove and Dionysus, they did.  The joy and the passion and energy that these kids radiated was a delight to breathe in.  New young air, an oxygen-based fountain-of-youth to weary and jaded spirits.  That kind of air makes you sit up a little straighter, open your eyes a little wider, and make a mental note to watch a sunrise in the near future.  It reminded me well of the first production with my peers in the not so-so long ago--the love-fest that was the last week of rehearsal and performance were both surreal and almost holy, the sense of what we were creating together there.  Together.

This was the same.  Same energy, same exhilaration, same sense of the wonder of it all. As I remember that first production, long will these oh-so-talented kids remember this experience:  the joy, confidence, the cohesive, collaborative, chemistry of being at the top of their game; teenagers on the edge of adulthood and all that it brings.  Teenagers with as sure an understanding of who they are and who they aspire to be that it boggles the mind in these uncertain times.  Teenagers who radiate confidence like the warmth of the first spring day in March.

It's always something special, that first production, the heady high that comes from an appreciative audience, the world of possibilities that opens up when you realize for the first time that, yes, you can.  You CAN.  And isn't it wonderful?  Isn't it?  I know it is.  And thank you.  Thank you, Cameron, Derek, Lainy, Lindsey, Ryan, Sarah, Shelby, Stephani, Matt, Andrew and Paul for sharing your rejuvenating, life-affirming moment with the rest of us.

How Lucky I Am

Before I get caught up again in the nerves and stress of next weekend's Greenfield Idol Finals, I want to take a moment to sincerely thank the top-notch members of my Greenfield Idol planning committee.  All of you--from the decorators, to the ticket seller, stage manager, and vote counters, to the judges and entertainment, the emcee, the KidsPlay ushers and runners, and the concessions folks--all played an integral part in making Saturday's Semi-Final round come together and run as smoothly as it did.  

Lisa who lent her 'insider perspective' to the planning, ran down great fill for the swag bags, and took some great photos (!).  Julia and Chris, who decorated the lobby, brought me cookies, and made me laugh hysterically with some behind-the-scenes stories.  Renita, who is always willing to fill in wherever she is needed be it decorating, backstage, or videoing (!!).  Corey, a calm voice of reason and practicality, counting the votes.  Oh, and Jim, who devised our vote-tallying spreadsheet!  Trever, the unflappable, natural-born emcee who paced and measured the show.  Chris, the ever-positive encourager, counting votes, selling tickets in the lobby to latecomers.  Catherine, Queen of the Concessions.  I need never worry that we'll run out of Snickers.  Frances and Adrianna, selling tickets at the shop and showing up at the Dungeon and helping with the myriad of last-minute stuff before heading to the theatre.  Dennis, with his bright idea for the ear-bud, and last minute repairs on the sign, his wonderful videos, and his ALL of the other things he does as if Idol was his life's work.  Oh, and Diane and Scott, who made our beautiful Greenfield Idol sign last year.  And all of the KidsPlayers who helped out:  Maggie, the runner; Lucy, Ellie, Ian, Jordyn, Grace and Lauren; and Adrianna, again.  This show was for you, you know--when you get ready to launch your college theatre careers, KidsPlay will be there to help out.  :-)  And to our judges--Mark, Nancy, Katie, Anne--who gave up a Saturday night to come and judge Greenfield Idol--the smiles on your faces told me you clearly enjoyed yourselves.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I realize anew how lucky I am to work with such dedicated and committed people, all of whom know their role in 'the KidsPlay machine' and know how to make it work.  I'm lucky that I have people around me with whom it's a truly enjoyable process to brainstorm on ideas and then work to improve on those ideas.  I'm surrounded by people who follow through on the commitments they make and go above and beyond in that commitment.  And I'm extremely grateful that the people around me are able to work with me, in the ups-and-downs of event planning, that they are there to nudge me on when I get stuck in a blue groove, and that they are there to share in the elation of success and a job well done.  

I am very lucky.  I know that.

Our main goal on Saturday was service:  making sure our judges were treated like royalty; making sure our contestants received star treatment; and that our audience saw a flawless and professional-grade production.  I think we accomplished that goal--and it's because of all of you.

How lucky I am.

Just Getting Started

Reflecting on a amazing rehearsal with the KidsPlayers last night.  I'm pushing them pretty hard and they are rising to the occasion.

We work on accents.  Maggie has made great strides in reining in her tendency towards sounding like Eliza Doolittle.  It's clear she has done some outside work on it and that's impressive.  I do believe she could now pass for British aristocracy.   And although Colin was absent last evening, I have to commend him on his excellent Scottish accent.

We work on character.  The were-hyenas have to laugh constantly, but have to moderate their volume up and down to accommodate the continuing dialogue over the top of their laughter.  Keeping up that kind of laughter without hyper-ventilating can be tricky, but I know we're getting somewhere when I look back and see the parents smiling, caught up in the infectiousness of the constant giggling.

We work on timing.  The screaming Mummy comes in and she's so loud that the kids have trouble focusing.  We go over and over the scene, pushing it until the last word of of one character's speech overlaps with the first word of the next.  By the time we finish, Dr. Evil and Sherman and the Mummy have created a scene charged with dynamic energy that pops and crackles.

We work on physical comedy.  The Mummy gets pushed through a door that she doesn't want to go through.  In the course of it, she bumps her head, her arm gets scraped, fingers pinched in the door.  We work on it until it's a safe, but believable scene.  And it works.

We work on inflection--emphasize THIS word and not that.  We work on facial expression--a quick glance, an eye roll, look, don't look, look and look away.  We work on volume and speed of delivery--louder, then soft; say this faster and it will be funnier; slow that down so it sinks in to the audience.  All are pretty sophisticated concepts for actors as young as these and they get it.  They really do.

The trust is amazing.  I trust them to carry the role, to live up to the responsibility of lines, character, out-of-rehearsal work, and they trust me to make them funnier, better, to push them to the best they can be.

And really, we're just getting started, just getting warmed up.  This is gonna be one for the ages.  Dr. Evil and the Basket of Kittens.

Long Live the English Language

On Nov 18, 2012, at 7:09 AM, __________________ wrote:

Dear Christine,

My husband and I enjoyed Attack of the Pom-Pom Zombies. We went because our grandson _____________ was in the play, and we really enjoyed the entire performance. The kids exuded joy and confidence, and everyone really deserves to be very proud.

My purpose in writing is to ask you to take correct English grammar into serious consideration. There were many instances of incorrect grammar in the Attack of the Pom-Pom. One example is the use of "me" in the subject: (incorrect: "Me and Jill went shopping." correct: "Jill and I went shopping."). Unfortunately, grammatical errors such as this are very common colloquially in Indiana and probably sound quite natural to the kids. However these same kids will soon be out in the world seeking jobs and following their own paths in a larger global arena where good grammar will be a distinct advantage. I think you have the perfect opportunity to encourage and instill correct grammar through the exciting media of theater. 

Thank you for your time and dedication in bringing these opportunities to the children of your community. I know they will always be proud to have been a part of the children's theater. I know because was in children's theater when I was a kid.

_______________________

Hi, _________________--

Thank you for your letter.  I adore you that you cared enough to write it.  

As a veteran teacher of the Indianapolis Public Schools, I spent 19 years carrying the standard of proper grammar, modeling it and even refusing to respond to kids unless they spoke correctly.  I demanded 'asked' instead of 'axed', please and thank you, and I often told them that were I a 'boss', and they came in to interview for a job, I would not hire them if they said 'ain't'.  I said, "If you use incorrect grammar, then it says to me that you went through 12 years of formal schooling without bothering to learn to speak correctly, so why would I want that kind of person working for me?"  

If you were a fly on the wall at rehearsal, you would know that I often correct the very same example you gave me.  I don't hear incorrect grammar quite so often out here in the suburbs, as I did in the inner city, but I continue to verbally wave the red flag whenever I DO hear it.

When it comes to theatre, however, the fault lies with the playwright.  The kids are instructed to learn the lines the way the playwright wrote them.  Often, the incorrect grammar (and sometimes the mispronunciation of words) is written in as part of the character (in the case of plays with, if you will, hillbilly characters, or characters who learned English as a second language).  I'm sure, as you wrote your missive, you were recalling your grandson, who portrayed Barnacle Bill, a sassy old pirate, in "Attack of the Pom-Pom Zombies".  Poor grammar not withstanding, he did a marvelous job, but I ask you to think about Barnacle Bill for a moment.  He was an old pirate, who came ashore and went into the restaurant business.  The kids are encouraged to create a back-story for their characters, and it is not difficult to imagine that a young Barnacle Billy may have run away to sea at the age of 8 or 9, and served as the cook's boy on a whaling vessel, or a lookout in the crow's nest, or a sailor in charge of keeping the sails trimmed and the decks well-swabbed.  His formal education may have terminated in the 3rd or 4th grade, and the poor lad would never have learned the correct usage of 'he and I', the proper conjugation of 'to be', and how to speak without sounding like he had a mouth full of marbles.

There have been times when the lines written for characters included poor grammar and I corrected them because I felt that particular character should speak correctly.  There have been times when I've added poor grammar to the lines to help create character.

Rest assured, _____________, that there is no more champion of the English language than myself.  I'm particular fond of the proper use of 'a' and 'an', which I fear we will see the death of in our lifetimes.

Again, I thank you for your letter and appreciate not only your presence in the our audience, but your concern for the success of our young actors in their adult lives.

____________ did a marvelous job and I hope to see him back at auditions for "Dr. Evil and the Basket of Kittens", where, I believe, most of the characters demonstrate correct English.  

Thanks--

Christine Schaefer

KidsPlay, Inc.

"It Wasn't What We Expected...."

"It wasn't what we expected."

That's the best quote of the night from my MV Drama-Teens at intermission of the current KidsPlay production:  "Attack of the Pom-Pom Zombies."

Last night was our "Dress to Impress", the night where we invite the kids' teachers and other special guests to 'preview' our performance so we can rehearse just once in front of a live audience before opening night.  It's an important night to my young actors.  It is a night for relearning what's funny about the show as we've long since stopped laughing at the humor of the script;  it's a night for learning to adjust their brilliant comedic timing to crowd reaction and laughter.

The kids' teachers were there in force--their numbers continue to grow at these evenings--and our special guests were the Mt. Vernon Drama Teens with whom I'm now in rehearsal for "The Music Man".

It was an enlightening evening for this old director.  It was a chance to see the remarkable--and I do mean remarkable--world in which I live through fresh eyes.  We're a bit spoiled here, you see.  We've set the bar high and we don't lower it for any reason.  Consequently, we're used to our production values, and the quality of our performances, but for the most part, these teens had never seen a KidsPlay show.  And clearly, it wasn't what they expected.

A few minutes into the show, I came down and sat in the aisle next to them, and watched.  They laughed, they leaned forward, they pointed and talked amongst themselves.  It was delightful to watch.

At intermission, I talked with them.  They said:  "This is great!"  "It's SO funny!"  "They're better than WE are!"  "I'm gonna have to work on my expressions.  Those kids have so much expression!"  "I could hear every word they said!"  "It wasn't what we expected."

Now, children.  Don't let this go to your heads.  We are but child-actors in a small-town theatre...a mere blip--if that--on the national entertainment registry.  But...we ARE remarkable.  The seriousness with which we take our craft, the detail that we put into a production, the mountain-movers we call the KidsPlay Machine, the hard work we put in--it does set us apart.  It makes us unique.

KidsPlay is Greenfield's best-kept secret.  We are a surprise, a delightful treasure, and we are NOT what people expect.  So...if you haven't seen a KidsPlay show yet, come--Friday and Saturday at 7, Sunday at 2.  "Attack of the Pom-Pom Zombies" at the Ricks Centre for the Arts.  And expect the unexpected.

"A Star is Mighty Good Company..."

Okay, I admit I have blown hot and cold on "Our Town".  It's a well-worn piece of theatre, done by everyone at one time or another.  It is beautifully executed by a director who cares very much about the message, with strong and powerful performances by George, Emily, the Stage Manager, Simon, Mrs. Webb, the Gibbses....  But rehearsals have been long and grueling.  I have three lines.  I move furniture.  And of course, I sit....and sit.....and sit.

Fast-forward through Tech Week to Opening Night.
The young lady, Michelle Wafford, who plays Emily presented everyone with a gift.  I set mine aside at first, in the rush of getting ready.  But then I went to open it.  The box said Oriental Trader.  What trinket, I wondered, did she find at Oriental Trader to represent "Our Town"?  Or would it be just some generic good-luck gift?   I took it out, and unwrapped it--it was a silver star, hung with a satin cord.  Written on it with permanent marker was this:  "A star is mighty good company...."  A line from the show, which just happens to be MY line.  ONE of my three lines. And of course, the tears came.

A star IS mighty good company.  The starlight created by the lights on stage, the stars around me who carry the show so elegantly and eloquently, and the star that burns in all of us to make sure we look as hard as we can for as long as we can, that we live life to the fullest, and that you never know when the tiniest of gestures--a silver star on a satin cord--will touch someone and bring the message home.