Robin's A Girl? ThurSPAE

So, sadly I missed three days of blogging about SPAE, but better fourth than never.
S.P.A.E.
Someplace Producing Artistic Expression.
Sortof Productive Archers Emote.
So Please, Anybody Entertainme!


No. It really stands for Summer Performing Arts Explorations.
But I bet I fooled you for a second there.


This is our fifth summer, our best summer, the most energetic, and art-packed summer, yet.
The summer of 15 girls and 15 boys.
Yes you read that correctly, we have 50% male players at SPAE. An arts camp.
Because, I think the word got out, people who are males also make art.


There was a long and list-filled blog post about our intended show, "The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe." Forget about it, because we switched the show to "Robin Hood."
I could spend a lot of time talking about why we're not doing Narnia, but as we said to the campers, it's much more interesting to discuss why we ARE doing Robin Hood.


List 1:
(In our version, which is largely original material by Claire, Johnny, and myself:)
-Robin is A GIRL.
-Little Jackie, Narcy (short for Narcoleptic,) and Achoo, (yes, we overuse the joke, don't worry) are her gang of tall, strong, women who battle throughout the Sherwood Forrest.
-The Sheriff of Nottingham has a son, Liam, who turns his back on his bloodline and joins Robin in her efforts to right the wrongs of Prince John-
-Who is pretty hysterical himself- frequently getting so excited by things that he gets too flustered to function as an authority figure, and is sometimes reminded by his Love that he has responsibilities. But, that being said-
-His Love is nearly as pathetic as he, using around 15 different bizarre pet names throughout the show to express her affection for her Love.
-We get to sing and dance in a back-woodsy feel. Which is probably the funniest thing to watch 8-13 year olds do.


So much has changed from our first year to fifth year.


List 2:
-Our staff went from Claire and I as directors with Annie Landenberger as Managing Director,
to Claire, Johnny, Melissa and I as directors with Annie and Abby Wicker as Managing Directors.
Not to mention that we currently have five C.I.T.s working with us all day, learning the ropes.
-We have 30 campers. In 2008 we had 11.
-Last year's show was about an hour and forty-five minutes. "Peter Pan," in 2008, was forty-five minutes.
- We have a pretty good sense of what we're doing, and have a grip on reality.
In 2008 Claire and I actually wrote out the definition of "Winging It" in the dictionary.
This list could go on, and on, and on.


This brings me to this year and,
What I've learned in the past four days.


List 3:
-I will ALWAYS laugh when we asks youths to do the grapevine in a circle. (Not the foot grapevine, the alternate-hand-grab-pass-by-partner grapevine. Is there a better word for this, all you contra-dancers out there?) There is just something so perplexing for some folks about using your non-dominant to shake a hand. And watching the chaos that ensues supplies me with an endless amount of comic material.
-New is not worse. Half of our campers are new to SPAE this year. This is a first. Yes, we have to cover the basics of stage direction, blocking, projection, diction, stage presence, and pretty much everything to do with acting technique -but that hardly matters when the presentation is met with overflowing enthusiasm and eagerness to learn. And these new folks, for whom nothing is routine at SPAE- they absorb everything. They bring pencils onstage with them, they don't upstage others, they turn people around who've got their backs to the audience. My mind is blown every few seconds.
-Brains that have not been exposed to the "Right Way To Do Things" offer endless ideas on how to approach a project or problem. It's as if I don't need to think at all because frankly-they think so much faster, and better than I do.
-I will ALWAYS involuntarily jump and clap when faced with 30 adolescents doing STOMP in rows across the gym floor. Thank you Ron Kelley. And- South Burlington High School, prepare yourself for my student teaching. Yes, we'll do chorus, but we'll also be stomping.


And perhaps most importantly, I am constantly reminded:
That I know so little, and though sometimes I feel like I've had a lot of experiences, or I've prepared for many situations, I am so completely capable of being surprised by the creativity and lifefullness of our gang at SPAE. Campers, CITs, and always, my co-counselors, Abby and Annie.


I look forward to every minute I spend with all of you, and let's continue trying to slow down this time together.




PS: We stole the ARTFESSIONAL from Governor's Institute. Tomorrow's question is what does SPAE really stand for? Stay posted for answers, which will be FAR more interesting than mine.

Governor's Institute on the Arts, 2012.

This blog post is a processing blog post, it's not meant to entertain, or really give insight into what life at GIA is like. That's something I work on describing to people every day.  ("NO DISCLAIMERS." comes a shout from the crowd.)


A week ago I parted ways with the students, faculty, and staff of the Governor's Institute on the Arts.
As many of us find, there is a certain amount of culture shock and readjustment that you have to face when being catapulted back into..."real life." From finding myself surrounded by a group of people and not having at least one of them humming the Mango song at all times, to rooms with blank walls not covered in maps, figure drawings, carvings, sculptures, paintings, floor plans, prints, and silhouettes.
I am twenty years old, but after leaving GIA I find myself sitting and just plain pouting. Feeling sorry for myself and my days in Burlington that are not spent with 140 people singing in the morning, classes in all of the arts, workshops in napping, spitting like a Blue Man, and beat-boxing, and evening performances and presentations by people who are way cooler than I will likely ever be. Does this seem fair?


So I pout for a while.
But then I remember that I am not five years old, but twenty and I not only have coping mechanisms for when I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I have ways of steering my brain in a more constructive direction.


I consider what I've learned.
What I can take away.
Who I can share it with.
And how I can share it.


These are questions that I know all of the students, RAs, faculty, RADmin, and folks who just bop around at Castleton with us ask themselves throughout the year that they are away from GIA.
I'm finding that the answers aren't straight forward. And the questions are sort of intimidating.
But I like to pick up seemingly small answers for these considerations because they seem more manageable. And maybe once enough manageable answers have piled up, I will have a better-shorter answer.
Verandah, a poet, musician, mother, teacher (among many, many other things,) likes lists- and as I've often found in blog posts, lists help my brain to be less of an electrically-charged-mush-ball.


What have I learned?
I learned to juggle. Sort of.
I learned the proper ratio of coffee/sugar/milk/ice for iced coffee.
I learned about the strength of listening vs. talking.
I learned that "All ideas are valuable, but no ideas are sacred."
I learned that the power of an idea is so strong, that though that idea might be discarded immediately, it will already have sparked a thousand other ideas.
I learned about being scared, (this is something I seem to learn a lot about from a lot of different things.)
I learned what it's like to support someone, and let yourself be supported,
and how to say "I love you" in Japanese,
and feeling humble,
and giving hugs,
and hand squeezes,
and jazz standards,
and how to play a high G on trombone,
and differences,
and yelling, laughing, crying, singing, whispering, and
holding in yelling, laughing, and crying.
I learned about showing not telling.
I learned about asking.


What can I take away?
I take away inspiration.
And this inspiration fills me so full that it lasts me for the year until I run out after the second week of June.
Inspiration evolves into energy, excitement, desire, passion, and ability.


Who can I share it with/How?
The hardest consideration because there are exactly one zillion ways in which I could adjust my "real life" to be more like my "GIA life." And of course, there's nothing "unreal" about GIA life-and so from my work with younger people, my age people, and older people-to filling the walls of my bedroom-to the eye contact I make-to the risks that I take (woah, almost became a Sting song.)-and the community I will always try to build and be a part of: I share GIA.


Thank you, you all know who you are.