Thursday, January 7, 2010

Classic Audience Comments

There's a special time at our studio when we all sit around the conference room table eating lunch. It's here that we take time to read aloud the amazing letters and drawings that children send us after watching a show. If you're ever feeling low, read some of these. Nothing makes you feel better. We also rehash some of the simply classic statements that are overhead during a performance. Little jewels that emanate up from the mouths of the innocent.

It's true. Children say the most wonderful things. We love to revel in the comments heard during our performances. Children seem to have a profound sense of succinctness that is delivered with perfect comedic timing.

Following our recent run of "The Emperor's New Clothes" at The Children's Theatre, I believe we have added another classic to our list. The show opens with the puppeteer creating a palace set piece; an abstract looking set of draperies fashioned from three pieces of fabric. It's a quick, non-verbal scene set to a jaunty piece of music. Following the scene, with a perfect delivery, a voice in the front row chimed, "you make an awfully good-looking window." How do you continue a performance after that hilarity?


Here's another classic from that same production, this one uttered years ago. Upon seeing the non-existent outfit in "The Emperor's New Clothes," our Counselor character stammers that the Emperor will be so, will be so . . . . and here was inserted perfectly by a 5th grader in the audience, "cold?"

Another time, pre-schoolers were enjoying, maybe, a performance of "Tangle of Tales. " It's a collection of short stories, perfect for the younger ones. As the first story finished and the lights came up for the second story, I distinctly heard an exasperated voice from the stage right side of the house peep, "Oh no, not another one. We're tired for Pete's sake!

Here's a random sampling of some things students said before, during and after my two performances of "A Show of Virtues" last month at Hawk Ridge Elementary School in Charlotte.



  • At one point in the show the character I play, a salesman, rolls up his sleeves. After this, a small voice said, "he's got hair on his arms."


  • After the Salesman wonders aloud, "how long will her courage last?" a voice from the audience confidently said, "6 minutes."


  • As the audience left the multi-purpose room following the 2nd performance, a 3rd grader turned around and said to me, "so long, young man."

It kind of makes you wonder what's waiting around the corner at the next performance. I can't wait to find out.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Detroit after Christmas

It's not easy changing gears from holiday mode to work mode the day after a great family Christmas. But change gears I did, for a three day run at the super cool Detroit Institute of Arts.

The trip began ominously enough. I opened The Charlotte Observer early Saturday morning and read about someone lighting their pants on fire aboard a plane from Amsterdam to . . . Detroit. I tucked the headline away so that my wife wouldn't see it until I was airborne.

Happily, the flight and surrounding security pleasantries were fine and just like that I was unpacking the previously-shipped crate containing our show called "Bathtub Pirates" for a 2:00pm performance. The DIA's Michael Hill was a great sponsor and the three days of performances were a blast.

In between performances I would stroll the museum galleries, lodge at the unbelievable Inn on Ferry Street, watch some bowl games, try not to hear the couple in the room next door having an absolutely fantastic weekend and dine at the nearby Wasabi Korean and Japanese Restaurant.

Whenever I'm at the DIA, I love to study their collection of armor, marveling at the various pieces and what they must have been through. The Museum was recently renovated and has wonderful, extensive collections from many different eras and artists.

The Inn on Ferry Street is a comfortable collection of three turn of the century houses that have been converted into amazing rooms for travelers of all sorts. If you're ever in Detroit, you must check this place out.

I was without a vehicle and therefore would light out on foot each night in search of dinner. The first night at the aforementioned Wasabi, I enjoyed a wonderfully light and tasty plate of gyoza; little steamed veggie dumplings that were finished to a browned crisp in a wok. A nice glazed salmon and a cold Kirin completed the meal. I found myself there again the next night as the Creperie I had my sights set on was closed on this snowy cold night, despite the "Open" sign crackling in their window. So, it was a great selection of sushi and Sunday Night Football back at my spot at Wasabi's bar. Perfect.

After Monday's performance, I packed up the show for its return to Charlotte. I said my good byes to Michael and his colleague Lisa who were such a blast to work with. I was driven to the airport by a man with a Bluetooth thing in his ear and a pen and legal pad balanced on the steering wheel. He would take turns looking at the road, talking another language into the Bluetooth, scribbling on the pad and nodding off.

Security had been ratcheted up at the airport, but all went well. My wireless microphone case that I "carried on" with me caused much more of a stir this time, but that's OK. I was waiting for my suitcase at the carousel before I knew it.

The trip that started with an ominous newspaper article ended with the inherent goodness in people everywhere. As I waited for my bag, I heard someone behind me say, "Don't you worry, sweetheart, we will find it." I turned to see a vision-impaired man with a cane talking to his vision-impaired wife with a cool dog assisting her. They hurried up to an exit door and asked a complete stranger if this was indeed "Door D." The stranger said it was and they hurried on their way. Maybe you had to be there, but in a world where someone feels passionately enough to light himself on fire for his cause, somehow there was an equal passion of kindness here as well. Kindness between the man and his wife, their beloved dog and by the stranger who helped them.