Pick-a-Little, Talk-a-Little

I just spent a delightful afternoon with the Clay Middle School Drama Club--the cast of "The Music Man" at the Hook's Drug Store Museum and Soda Fountain (at the State Fairgrounds). This was a pre-arranged visit for them...the producer, Patty Keller, wanted them to have a field trip experience back to the turn of the century, which was the time period for "The Music Man", and thought our little step-back-in-time would fit the bill nicely.

I got to the Museum early. Barb (the soda jerk) was there already, so the place was open and warmed up and ready to go and as their arrival time grew near, I felt my anticipation growing. Although we've given tours before, this one was different; there were theatre kids coming, and I felt a kinship with this group. This would be fun.

And oh, it was!! They tumbled off the bus, all in their show shirts, talking, laughing, and LOUD!!! I stood on a chair to address them about the history of the building and the role that the old time pharmacy played in small town America. I showed them some of the things I found most interesting and intriguing in the museum. They weren't shy with their questions and they laughed at my answers. And then I turned them loose to get a soda. They knew...they I, in my KidsPlay hoodie, was one of them.

It was then that the fun started. Standing in line for sodas (all 45 of them), they chattered and sang. I heard snatches of "Pick-a-Little, Talk-a-Little" and "Trouble" and some choruses from "Les Mis". They zipped around, looking at the various medicines and oddities in the museum, buying and sampling the retro candy. They bought up all the candy cigarettes and sen-sen. Guess later on they'll be "tryin' out tailor-mades like cigarette fiends and braggin' all about how they're gonna cover up a tell-tale breath with Sen-Sen...." Heh-heh. Too funny. One of the parents that was with them was the props mistress, and she bought a bunch of the big lollipops and some of the retro signs. She asked about our bags printed with the name of a pharmacist, and I gave her a stack of them. How could I not. She talked about her suitcase collection and I talked about my telephone collection. We bonded.

Finally, when everyone had a soda and had bought up all the candy they could afford, they piled back onto the bus, still laughing, talking, and being loud. I was sad to see them go, and I promised to try and make it to the show. It was a wonderful afternoon--and just what the doctor ordered...

What fun, what fun! And it was just what the doctor ordered...

The Actress's Journal...

Every show is a journey, a lifetime...and I'm about to begin another.

We're doing "Steel Magnolias". We, meaning CrazyLake Acting Company. I'm not directing, but producing, with hopes of being IN the show.

The director is my close friend. This is his first venture at directing. He's nervous and he's excited. As am I. Nervous and excited. I think back to the thoughts I had just moments before taking the stage in "Fiddler". So nervous was I, that I thought, "I can't do this to myself again." Yet here I am, poised to do just that in "Steel Magnolias". But it's an opportunity I can't pass up, a once-in-a-lifetime part. It's a goal I'm working towards.

So today, I sat with my friend, the director, with whom I will make this journey, in whom I have entrusted something that is most precious to me--my theatre group, our integrity, our reputation for quality. We talked about the show: about character, costume, hair (the whole show takes place in a beauty parlor), the relationships between the women. The collaboration between us, the melding of ideas is something to behold, almost magical.

I wanted to try out my southern dialect on him. He listened and then he said, "Leave the hiccuppy thing out; use just YOUR voice with the dialect." I stopped, imagined it, listened to it in my head, and mentally made the changes.

When I looked up, he was watching me intently and seriously. It was a very tentative moment. His 'note' for my voice was out of his mouth almost before he thought about it--and our decision to switch roles suddenly became reality. He slowly smiled, first with his eyes, and then the corners of his mouth, and I started to laugh. Oh, friendship is a wonderful thing! The secret brotherhood of making good theatre is a joy that cannot be rivaled. And I knew at that moment that my friend, this student of character and script, would not betray my trust in him.

I took his direction very seriously, and I know that, when all was said and done, I will learn something from from him, from this journey, this experience, this collaboration, this chance to act, rather than direct.

And all is right in the theatre world.

Watching the Boy Direct...

The Boy is directing his first play--a one-act called "Eternal Life: The Show", written by John Andreini.


I sit silently, watching seriously and with an outwardly critical eye, looking for ways to help, details to suggest.  I'm the responsible "overseeing adult" in the room.  But the smile inside pushes its way to my lips.  Inwardly, I feel as warm as the sun.  The Boy is directing his first show.  He's talked about it since last spring, when he was given the honor of being one of four upperclassmen drama students to do so.  And he is in his element.  Oh, yes he is.  Absolutely and totally.



He has been by my side for...one, two, three, four, five shows now?  I've lost track, but I can see that it was time well-spent.  I see definite earmarks of 'the Schaefer School of Directing'.  I see him watching intently; I see him mentally acting along with his actors as they go through the scenes; I see him up on his feet, demonstrating what he wants from them--yes, a hands-on director.  Good.  I see him pushing them, nudging them, encouraging them.  But mostly, I see him smiling and laughing, thoroughly, thoroughly enjoying the process.  His eyes light up when he adds a new bit, a defining detail, when he gets what he wants from his cast.    It's beautiful to behold.  His delight in his craft is infectious.  It infects his cast--they would follow him anywhere.  It infects me.  He's 'making magic', he says, and he's right. 


His show is cutting edge.  It's exactly what he would choose--something that will raise eyebrows and cause controversy:  Satan and God appearing on a game show together to vie for someone's soul.  Eek.  It's, uh, not for the easily shocked, it definitely pushes the envelope.   

He has a good and dependable cast--all are experienced actors; some are great; all are talented--perfect in their assigned roles.  He cast it perfectly.  They are malleable, directable actors, and he is their leader. There is but one director and it is him.



Many shows, I've done now.  Each show I've directed has been an experience unto itself, a lifetime, lessons learned, new friends and alliances made, a spiritual journey, a covenant between the director, the actors, and the audience.  I've done 30 such shows.  This is his first and I'm thinking that it won't be his last.

My Favorite Memories from "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever"

1) Frances Hull laughing.
2) The night the Savior's arm came off in rehearsal.
3) Ian Cole: "No."
4) Reuben Shelton: "He's out to get the baby and he's not even in the play??"
5) The Silent Night Moment: pin-drop/no-applause as the lights dimmed on the angels and all the Herdmans kneeling at the manger.
6) Lex, cool-headed and patient, at the lightboard.
7) Rolling down the aisle in the food pantry barrel.
8) Walking Teagan Chandler and her mom backstage.
9) Hugging the Bird and all my other favorite audience members.
10) Rachelle Cole: "And Imogene will be....Mary."
11) Twinkies in the Break-a-Leg bags.
12) Live piano music from Eva, er Evan.
13) Five performances + two matinees = 1521 audience members
14) "Chris Schaefer/Santa Baby".
15) Jayme pushing and Hudson calming.
16) Our two matinee audiences full of kids, who laughed loudly and long, and yet knew when to get quiet.
17) The smooth-running Variety Show
18) Looking at the marquee lights in my snowflake glasses.
19) The amazing 'get 'er done' new parents we picked up along the way.
20) Sitting at the Lees', bone tired, and listening to the happy chatter of my theatre family reflecting on the Show Past, Show Present, and Show Yet to Come.

Curtain Speech for the Final Performance of "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever"

My name is Christine Schaefer and I’m the director of KidsPlay, Inc. children’s theatre and the CrazyLake Acting Company. In the twelve years that I’ve been introducing plays in this community, our primary goal has been to make you laugh and applaud—we’ve never wanted to teach a lesson or deliver a message—just entertain you. But the show you’re about to see—“The Best Christmas Pageant Ever”—has turned out to be quite different from what we usually do. Yes, it’s a comedy and a children’s play, but somehow, it’s been more than that, and I think I speak for everyone who has had the privilege of working together on this show when I say that this has been something special for us and for a good deal of our audiences. I honestly don’t know if it’s just because of the Christmas season, or…because of the message…but all of us, in some way, have been touched…and changed by our involvement with this show. It’s been an amazing experience for us…for me…and I hope—that when all is said and done--that that comes through in our performance and that what you feel is what we feel, during this most wonderful season of the year. And now, it is my great pleasure and privilege to invite you to share in the magic that has been and is “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever”.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

It's a sappy little show, really. Made into a stage play from a popular children's book. A fairly predictable story and script. Hoodlum kids invade the church's Christmas pageant. True meaning of Christmas "works its magic" and lives are changed. Everyone lives happily ever after.

We walk in some pretty deep footprints with this show. Creating storybook characters is tricky business, because when you read the book, you create the image in your imagination. Remember worrying if Harry Potter was going to be just like you imagined him? Or Frodo? Or Aslan? Would what you saw on the screen (or stage) live up to your imagination? The true Reader will tell you that the book is always better, so trying to bring to life the classic characters of Beth, Alice, Imogene, Gladys, Ralph, Mrs. Bradley is really going out on a limb.

But my kids--AND my adults--do it. They do it, and then some, making the characters their own. My adults: Rachelle, Kelly, Michael, Frances, Mona, Joe, and the rest--they've taken some fairly one-dimensional characters and brought them into 3-D, multi-dimmensional life. They've done a great job.

But my kids...oh, those kids...

They made me cry today. After 35 rehearsals and...six performances...still today, they 'got' me. Make no mistake, we pull out all the stops. The Herdmans smack each other so hard during the 'disruptive' scenes that you can hear the thumps and the slaps at the back of the auditorium. They race up and down the aisle at break-neck speed and get EVERYONE'S attention. Alice's disdain and perfectness are enough to make even model children gag. We use music to create a mood...and lights...the light on the manger, the spot on the family... Megan's timing on her heartfelt moments of understanding of the story...looking at the baby, laying in the manger, covering it, and leaving it...looking back...and leaving. And yes, Joe and Dennis, adding in the angel choir at the manger was the ne plus ultra. We've put together a beautiful little piece of theatre, if I do say so myself. And we're touching people. Making family memories. Creating a little Christmas magic all our own.

It's a wonderful show. It is. And it deserves an audience. We performed today the second of our matinees and it was a delightful experience. Sold out. The kids are truly the best audiences. They laugh and applaud. And then, they got quiet. They got it. We ALL got it. And, if you open your heart to the story, you will, too.

"The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". It is. Go see it.

Stars

It’s 4:57 a.m. My alarm just went off and I’m up. For some reason, it’s important to know the weather. I run outside in my bare feet to see if I can see the stars and there they are. It is just as it should be in December. Cold and clear. I can almost hear the Christmas spirit jingling in the air.

Today. Something is happening today. Something special. The something that is the first thing I think of when I get up and the last thing I think of when I go to bed.

And what have I got? What have I got? I’ll tell you. I’ve got stars in my sky and stars on my stage. I’ve got kids, all in their places, with smiles (or frowns) on their faces. I’ve got boys who are gonna ‘bring it on’ tonight. I’ve got two girls, one little and one near grown who are gonna make ‘em laugh, and then make ‘em cry. I’ve got adults with barely contained grins, thoroughly enjoying this chance to ‘play make-believe’ once again. I’ve got the best Grace Bradley to ever pace the stage. I’ve got a support system—back stage, in the booth, upstairs, in the dressing room, in the lobby—that can withstand gale winds and sudden showers and still make it happen.

What more could I want on this fine, cold clear December day? I’ll tell you. I made my wish out there in the cold, and I’ll tell you….tonight after the people take their seats…if it came true.