These quotes came unsolicited from individuals in our audiences over the last few weeks.
We’ve had a couple days of rest after a great public opening weekend at Open Book. I’m glad to say the paying audiences share much the same sense of humor as our prison audiences. To me that’s a reminder of the humanity of these men, women, boys, and girls that wind up at these facilities and are forgotten about or written off by society. Given different circumstances, decisions, or opportunities in life, anyone could end up in the same situation. So, for the 90 minutes or so that we’re there, they are seen truly seen. I do hope that reminds them of the heart, mind, and soul that they still are.
So here we are at the end of the first week of shows for Il Campiello and this is our first blog entry. The most humble apologies to our followers for keeping you waiting so very long! Let me introduce the yahoos—I mean cast members—we’re dealing with in this show: Peter “the chameleon” Vitale, Elise “Elizabeth” Langer, Kimberly “Noodle” Richardson, Brian “Three Names” Curtis James, Sarah “Subtlety” Agnew, Karen “Weeze” Wiese-Thompson, Randy “First Timer” Reyes, Nathan ” ” ” Keepers, Thomasina “Don’t Mess With” Petrus, and myself, Christiana “Bo-banna” Clark, production managed by Nancy “The Whittler” Waldoch, and of course led by our fearless director Michelle “Danger” Hensley.
Truly, all types of audiences have enjoyed this show immensely. For all its silliness, the drama hits home.
The prison audiences and the paid public audiences have had something in common during the run. In a way, they have felt the most comfortable. Because the audience members are amongst their own, it seems they feel more at ease to show bigger reactions, to let out that big belly laugh. And, mind you, we’ve been thrust into some odd arenas. As the weeks progress, we feel a sense of relief getting back into prison or to our admiring public. It feels safe.
Read the rest of this entry »
The discussion of community audiences (free shows in prisons, shelters, etc.) vs. public audiences (ticket price: $25) is an inevitable one if you’re topic is the Ten Thousand Things experience.
Read the rest of this entry »
Ok. Back to my original question. What will our audiences see, hear and feel from the show? I think that’s how I put it. Let’s see if I can encapsulate the reactions so far from the wide and varied population that makes up our community audiences.
Read the rest of this entry »
The Man of La Mancha tour has come and gone. Overnight in Alexandria. Three shows in a 24-hour period. One show for mostly college and high school students, one show for seniors, and one show for the inmates of the Douglas County Jail. All shows were great, for their own reasons. As usual, the show for inmates probably tops the chart. It was mostly male inmates and there’s just something about seeing the face of a hardened criminal soften and grow a sweet smile.
Read the rest of this entry »
The word of the day is…appreciation. Our first performance behind bars, at the Shakopee Women’s Prison, was raucous. The 80 or so inmates ate it up as if they were starving for a laugh. They soaked it in as if they needed to think about anything other than the routine of their daily lives in a bad way. Their eyes lit up with that kind of sparkle you see when someone is SO happy to see you.
I took note during the performance that there were many restless legs in the audience. Toes tapping. Knees bobbing. Legs crossing and feet wagging. You know, that nervous shake you see when someone just can’t sit still. It gave me the sense that their whole being was restless after literally staying within the same walls for so long.
Read the rest of this entry »
Confirmation. That’s what today’s first show of Man of La Mancha was for me today…for so many reasons. Confirmation that this show will speak to those to see it. Confirmation that good entertainment, in any form, can deliver a message.
Read the rest of this entry »
It’s been 11 years since I first spent time at the Dorothy Day homeless shelter in downtown St. Paul (the year 2000, the play The Three Lives of Lucie Cabrol) where, at the quiet, soul-searching climax of the play, a cell phone rang. A woman sitting next to a cart full of bags searched through her worldly possessions, pulled out a phone and, talking in a loud, full voice declared to the person on the other end of the line, “I can’t talk now, I’m watching a play or something!” I’m not sure I even had a cell phone back then. I think I still carried a pager. So much for perception.
Read the rest of this entry »