Drama Tuesday - Stirring the embers
/Part One
TEACHING DRAMA
Why teach theatre? How can we afford not to teach theatre? Dramatic arts are among the most effective tools we have to teach our children to live, love and behave like decent human beings .. . We have an incredible opportunity to un-teach the numbing and de-humanizing lessons of popular culture.
(D. Berkson, fall 2001, Teaching Theatre, vol. 13, number 1)
Do I need to say more? These few words could be my plea in favour of teaching art, any art, in schools, community centres, refuges, mental institutions, nursing homes, jails, etc. Art has no borders, no age or social status. Art learning-teaching is multidimensional: physical, sensorial, social, cognitive, moral, emotional, creative and aesthetic. Some forms are more individual-focused than others; visual art can be a more solitary practice than theatre (in general). Bμt all, at some point in time, deal with an audience. Therefore, art touches people at two levels: 'making art' and 'sharing art'. Again, I am digressing from drama to art in general; it always will be, because art is a way of life. It is a 'discipline', more than a subject. Once it is inscribed in the cells of your body, your being and your expression are artistic. Naturally, you might have a gift or a talent in one particular area; but it is the way you look at the world and deal with it that is different: humane, respectful and visionary.
First question: why teach drama? In my eyes, dramatic art is the closest to daily life. At first sight, it is an art form that does not require too many skills (at least, it appears like this). A musician, or a dancer, needs a regular and long training; actors always seem more 'dilettante'. It is a medium close to our mundane reality; it uses 'natural' body moves and gestures, words, emotions and situations, one performs every day or nearly. It does not frighten people, as dance could. As drama uses spoken words, people find in their memories and life an endless source of inspiration, which they can communicate easily. Once the first step towards theatre is made, it does not take long to realise that there is more to it than merely copying reality. Taught at its best, participants understand that through the magnifier of theatre, they create a 'new' reality, powerful, magic and empowering. Some incredulous pessimists would argue the ethics and the worth of theatre; but no one can deny the healing aspect of theatre, since the beginnings of time. In fact, it was the very function of theatre, because it is the expression of the deepest aspirations of humankind. And even in the most tortured or dark plays, somewhere it addresses the sublime side of humanity. It is a reverse illustration of the paradox: '1he brighter the light, the darker the shadow''.
Therefore, in the light of all what was said before, teaching drama is taking people on a journey of discovery about themselves and about others; or rather, revealing the others dwelling in oneself. It is accessing a world of meanings, symbols and beauty. Beyond the context (the content of the play), teaching drama is exposing the students to new situations, new lives. It is opening the doors of a deeper and more meaningful reality. Teaching drama is constructing and deconstructing many different worlds, to educate, heal and empower its participants, actors and spectators. Theatre is a powerful medium, which brings change in oneself and a community, by widening one's worldviews. It is a social and political tool. Teaching drama can be a revolutionary act. One day, I scribbled on a piece of paper, a quote read somewhere: The Art of a period is the revolution of the collective soul of its time; when in fact, it should have read: The Art of a period is the revelation of the collective soul of its time. Certainly, the last quote makes more sense; but I did like the first one! For all these reasons, I agree with David Berkson, we cannot afford not to teach ,theatre.
Second question: what kind of teacher do I want to be? Out of my heart, my answer is: inspirational. You need to take students, participants and audiences, willingly, on a journey, the best drive is admiration. We all have our 'star', our role model, for some it is Gandhi, for some it is Adolf Hitler. The choice relies on life experiences, meeting with charismatic people and 'what is inscribed on your slate' at birth. The journey of life is about ·'change'; hopefully towards 'light' and not 'darkness'. It is the role of the artist and the teacher to inspire and educate. Both come from a different angle, essentially, the artist delivers art, and the teacher delivers education. It sounds obvious, but sometimes you wonder if art teachers realise there are two words in their title: 'art' and 'teacher'. More than once, in my life, I left a class or a workshop, crying for Art. An 'inspirational' art teacher is one who practices and reflects about art; and is really good at it. Easy to write, it takes a lifetime to realise it. In that sense, teachers are forever learners.
My next point is trust. As a teacher, you need to create a space where the students feel comfortable to explore and express any subjects and situations. I find that the strategy of teacher-in-role is a good one, as you are not putting yourself as an outsider, watching; but sharing the experience with the students. You have to engage and take risk, like them. Sometimes ago, Jenny de Reuck gave her students an article: Drama in Education and TIE: a comparison, written by Gavin Bolton. He mentioned that at a workshop lead by a theatre company, about a sensitive subject (AIDS), the students asked the drama teachers to leave. I can understand fully the position of the students: but, on the other hand, it was a bit sad that they felt limited in the presence of the drama teacher.
Finally, I should like to be a creative teacher, one who shares experiences and takes risks with the students; and with whom it is fun to work. Also, I would provide many opportunities for the students to perform in front of an audience, or share with others, Besides the normal avenues of school's production, there are so many ways to interact with audience: festivals, specific events, national days, etc.
'Education is about power'. Coscientization: awareness and commitment which gives people grounds for ACTION. (Paulo Freire)
Music Monday - What makes some music difficult to play or sing?
/I am currently doing vocal coaching on a high school production of “Mary Poppins”. The cast are specialist music theatre students in a college of the arts and the orchestra are specialist music students at the same school. It is my first time working on this show and from the outset I was surprised at how difficult and complex the musical score is. The Sherman brothers have written many moments in the vocal ensemble in up to 6 -part harmony. Dissonance is used as an effect. There are sudden vocal modulations - with no helpful modulating chords from the orchestra. The score is musically dense – both vocally and orchestrally. Much of our preparation time has been spent working out which notes in a chord we could leave out without losing the harmonic effect and intention at that moment.
It is proving to be a challenging gig for all involved, so I was mildly frustrated recently when, after a particularly long session in the rehearsal room, a friend remarked, “Mary Poppins? That’s not difficult music!”
That casual remark set me thinking. Of course, we all know the tunes from the show – think “Feed The Birds”, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”, “Chim Chim Cheree”, “Go Fly A Kite”. Those are all catchy tunes and we can hum them easily. In this case, it is the arrangements which make the music difficult.
Many years ago, I attended the state finals of the ABC’s Concerto and Vocal competition, held in the Basil Kirke Studio in the long defunct ABC studios on Adelaide Terrace in Perth. David Helfgott (of movie “Shine” fame) was one of the piano finalists. At that time, he was going through mental health challenges, but was nonetheless a virtuosic player, in a class all his own. He played Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody On A Theme Of Paganini” with such power and speed that I wondered if he would cause the Steinway grand to move across the floor, such was his passion. Yet, when he reached the 18th variation (the famous, legato, melancholic one) his playing and interpretation was curiously detached. This variation is the easiest, technically, to play, but it demands that the pianist make the piano really sing. On that day it was just too difficult for him and his headspace. A different kind of musical difficulty.
And, by way of another example, in the world of singing, especially as it applies to young singers, some technically easy songs can have texts which are too sophisticated, or which deal with themes beyond the singer’s life experience and maturity. And then some other songs, with appropriate themes, can be annoyingly hard in terms of range or vocal intensity required.
There are many definitions of musical difficulty.
Getting back to Mary Poppins. The show is fun and appropriate for young singer actors, provided that they commit to many, many hours of intense dance and vocal calls. But easy? Definitely not!
Drama Tuesday - Taking Risks! Playing Safe?
/When did teachers – English teachers, drama teachers, all teachers – lose their nerve?
Mediating on the content of what we teach in drama (and English)
I am prompted to ask this question following a conversation with a very experienced English teacher friend about the recently published novel Honeybee, by Craig Silvey. We agreed that this was another thought-provoking narrative that is well-written and engaging. But, he went on to add: of course, I couldn’t use this in my school.
Of course, there are questions I want to ask him about Honeybee. Why?
But it is important to look beyond this specific novel and to think about the broader narrowing of curriculum choice and the mood of self-censorship in our schools.
As a refugee from the “hippie 70’s” when there was a more revolutionary spirit shaking up schools and curriculum, I am more attuned to a more liberal and open-ended approach. So much of becoming a teacher in that period was about breaking free of the shackles of a limited vision for education. Curriculum opened up. Teaching practice changed to be more inclusive and more focused on dialogue and giving voice and agency to students. The world of education became more liberal and free flowing. But I recognise how the times have changed. As recent international events in the USA have shown, words like liberal are terms of abuse and contempt.
There has been a long term campaign of inculcating fear amongst teachers.
The tabloid media rant about corrupting young minds urged on by the rising tide of religious extremism. The swings and roundabouts of time set off cycles of action and reaction (and as drama educators, we should know about action and reaction!). But, what are the forces that give hegemony to particular views at any moment?
It goes without saying that I am more likely to think more openly about the content of the plays and novels that we use in schools. Or perhaps, I am less likely to nervously twitch about content. What we can see and hear on television and film is now so much more liberated from other times. In case teachers have not noticed - what our children watch and see and hear on Netflix and in rap songs and online, is no longer as safe and as sanitised as some like to believe.
But I do wonder about the accepted curriculum itself. Look closely at the given cannon of texts. (For an interesting historical perspective on the curriculum cannon in english teaching see, Yiannakis, 2014).
Think about some of the topics of the accepted cannon.
Romeo and Juliet is about illicit infatuation and coupling in a climate of inter-family warring that results in teen suicide.
Othello involves extremes of jealousy and interpersonal rivalry and inter-racial marriage resulting in death and despair.
Equus by Peter Schaefer focuses on the disfigurement of horses by a psychotic ally disturbed adolescent.
Lord of the Flies – I have always been amused that Lord of the Flies is a much used school text (maybe less so now) that has not a single swear word but look at the undertow of its themes: the descent into savagery, the undercurrent of sexuality, the violence. Not forgetting the biblical references to the Beast and the pig.
And I could go on listing texts on required or recommended reading lists that handle difficult and challenging subjects. It seems that we teach some texts without batting a proverbial eyelid, but balk at others.
Drama – and literature – spring from human experience.
Therefore, we should expect that a broad range of experiences are included – and that we can imaginatively and emotionally enter into these worlds through vicarious experiences. I do not have to be a serial killer to play the role of one in the safety of the fiction we create in drama (not that I’m advocating that we make all drama lessons about becoming serial killers).
The role of drama and literature is to transport us into worlds that we might not know and through the imaginative experience to better understand and come to know the wider world.
What is going on at this moment in time? Are the uncertainties of the Pandemic situation surfacing? Is there a sense of fear and a desperate need for reassuringly safe teaching?
What do you think?
What particular topics and subjects triggers the curriculum twitchers?
Is it sex and sexuality?
Is it language? (That horse has long bolted!)
Is it themes such as witchcraft? Satanism? Or similar taboos?
Or is it the undermining of status quo stereotypes or apple pie and wholesomeness?
Is any topic suitable for teaching?
There is a misplaced nostalgia (if that is the right word for it) for a world that is safe, unthreatening, not complex and frightening. But not all school literature can be a sanitised and hygienic safety net.
Is this a time for bravery? A time for finding our risk taking mojo?
It will take courage.
Bibliography
Yiannakis, J. (2014). A possible literary canon in upper school English literature in various Australian states, 1945-2005. Issues in Educational Research, 24(1), 98.
The power of music and song in children’s theatre
/Last week I took our 4 -year- old grandson and his Mum to our state theatre to see a school holiday offering for young kids – “Room On The Broom”, based on the award winning children’s picture book by Julia Donaldson and Alex Scheffler, published by Macmillan Children’s books.
The show was in the main theatre, the Heath Ledger Theatre, and because ours was an impromptu decision to attend, we were seated in the last available seats, right up at the back of the circle and some distance from the stage. This did not bother young William in the least; he was intrigued by the size of the theatre and the height from which he was watching the stage. It was the largest theatre he has been in, to date, and I’d imagine it was the same for many in the young audience. Around us were children ranging in age from babies to around the 8 years mark. Lots of grandparents.
I wondered how we would all fare up there, so far from the action on stage, when the show started.
As it turns out, the physical distance did not prove a problem for William, nor for kids of similar age. Younger children were more easily distracted, but that age were distracted downstairs in the stalls as well.
The show was just the right length – about 55 minutes – and delivered with an energy of around 150%. This would be exhausting for an audience if sustained for much longer, but seemed an important component in holding their attention in this short show.
There were puppets – big, realistic, glove style puppets. And the actors operating them provided their voices. (At one stage the actor managing the dog and the frog mixed up his accents but no one much minded). Suspension of disbelief was abundant, which was wonderful to see in this audience. (Side note – last holidays we went to a puppet show where the puppets were made of fruit and veges. This was a step too far for our 4- year- old – “You can’t really make a puppet out of vegetables, can you?”)
The main actor characters were the witch and her cat – a costumed actor - and the audience loved them.
But by far the component of the show which held it all together and brought kids’ attention back to the stage was the music. Backing -tracks and live singing – in parts, and of a high standard. Fun songs with catchy but easy tunes. Towards the end we were all invited to join in the refrain of the final song – and we did it lustily. Audiences love to join in.
As the performance ended, William declared, “That was a really good show”. And it was. But without the music it would have been so much less.
As we walked to lunch in the city, I was thinking about how enriching music and song is to so many of young children’s learning. It is of course learning in its own right, but music also enables so much more in us.
Music Monday - Holiday time
/The Easter weekend is ending, and in most Australian states, schools are in the holiday break between terms. After a short term of only 9 weeks here in Western Australia – which was then shortened further by a one -week Covid lockdown at the start – I am surprised by how tired I am at the end of this term. My teacher colleagues and friends (in all age groups) have echoed this sentiment. Perhaps we all over-compensated for the short teaching term by trying to reach targets meant for a normal term length?
Anyway, this post has no discussion of teaching approaches or anything at all serious.
Instead, I have been thinking of a birthday card I received from a friend a couple of years ago. The front read “Things Musicals Taught Me” and then there were a bunch of song references, including:
It’s a hard knock life
Give ‘em the old razzle dazzle
There’s a place for us
There are 525,600 minutes in a year
All you’ve got to do is dream
You can’t stop the beat
You can love the life you’re living; you can live the life you’d like
You’re never fully dressed without a smile
Can you add to the list? Post in the comments below.
And enjoy your holidays!
