I can count on one hand the number of events in my life that I would consider transformed who I am; the Fall Festival of Shakespeare would be one of them.

Things I’m grateful for:
1) The Festival’s aesthetic that emphasizes process over product and taught me new ways of working on Shakespeare and how to manage a room of children!

2) The Festival’s ethic that encourages deeper engagement from the student participants and stresses non-competition among the schools.

3) The language experiment: Sentences beginning “I feel like…” rarely describe a feeling, but often frame a judgment, good or bad. There is a difference between stating a feeling and making a judgment.

4) The education team of Kevin Coleman, Jenna Ware, and Alex Lincoln. Three great spirits who lead by example.

5) The extraordinary cohort of Fall Festival directors, designers, and technicians, and my directing partner Emily Ehlinger, whose grace and good humor made the experience a pleasure. Inspirations all!

6) And finally, Roger Danforth, Gabriel Shanks, and the rest of the team at the Drama League, without whose support I would never had had the chance to be a part of this amazing experience.

At our closure yesterday, one of my kids told us that Pericles, Prince of Tyre was one of the best things she’d ever seen, because “his family was dead, and then they weren’t!” She spoke about Shakespeare with the same enthusiasm that her friends spoke about the new Twilight movie.

This Festival changes lives.

It was a long, stressful week as the team of around 35 directors, designers, and technical staff prepared for not only our show, but also the 9 other performances going on this weekend by the participating schools. I was told that the Festival audience would not be like any other audience I’ve ever experienced, and it’s true!

How astonishing to hear a room of teenagers yell and scream and holler for each other as if Shakespeare were a rock concert. Within the first seconds of our performance, the kids were up on their feet. Their level of interaction with the kids onstage was something to see: hissing the villains, laughing riotously at the jokes, cheering the heroes.

In HENRY V, there is a moment where the French kill the English servant boys who tend the army’s luggage. Our luggage boys were played by an ensemble of middle school students. As the French crept up on these innocent children, our audience was on its feet, shouting warnings to the kids, so much so that they blocked our stage manager’s view of the stage! It was so inspiring and touching to see the kids give unconditional support to each other. And I’m thrilled that their peers gave my students such a warm reception and enthusiasm; it was a nice reward for all of their hard work these last 7 weeks.

So, I’m working two more days of the Festival, and then it’s time to get back to a New York state of mind!

I’m so proud of our kids, who attacked the performance with heart, determination, and skill. I’m exhausted, and there is still Festival week at Shakespeare & Company to come, but for now, I’m going to enjoy the memory of watching those beaming faces take their opening night bows.

Our production, however, lost two essential days of rehearsals last week as schools were closed, and we open the show tomorrow! These challenges have created a lost of stress for my directing partner Emily and me, but our kids really have seemed to step up to the challenge. There was very little grumbling about the extending of the rehearsal schedule in order to make up our lost time, plus their commitment is palpable. They are still a high-spirited bunch, but I’m proud of the seriousness with which they are treating the work and the leaders who have emerged among them.

So, tomorrow, opening night at the school! 3 performances, and then it’s time to get ready for Fall Festival week at Shakespeare & Company!

It’s been a while since my last update, but then, it’s been a crazy few weeks of rehearsals of HENRY V. Every day has had its own joys and challenges.

I’ve been joking with people that I can do a whole month of straight 6 and 8 hour rehearsals with actors and feel perfectly fine afterwards, but 4 hours a day with my fantastic company of kids leaves me pretty exhausted. They place such a different demand on one’s energy and concentration. Nevertheless, I am constantly surprised by some new depth or nuance one of them will express in rehearsal. They are just terrific.

The show is slowly coming together, but it’s difficult to get as much accomplished as I would like, given the various constraints on the kids’ time and the complex knot of scheduling conflicts we have to negotiate every week. I feel, however, greatly optimistic about the project overall and am excited to see the end result.

We are now entering the final weeks of rehearsal before tech and performances, and I am girding myself for the experience. Reminding myself to breathe and to see the forest for the trees…

The first one, stage combat, is historically the most popular, and it was astonishing to peer into the gymnasium of Monument Mt. High School and see 200-300 kids gathered to learn some fight basics. Also astonishing to see Kevin Coleman, education director, control this large group of kids by simply raising his hands.

So many of the students, strangers at the start of the class, cheered for other schools, welcomed one another with genuine camaraderie, and had fun without a hint of self-consciousness, as they learned basic rolls and did trust leaps into each others arms.

In the final exercise, they learned a sword fight sequence, using “air broadswords,” and then were split into two groups. Each group was taught a side of the final confrontation between Macbeth and Macduff:

MACDUFF
Turn, hell-hound, turn!

MACBETH
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.

MACDUFF
I have no words:
My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!

When given the cue, they fired the lines back and forth and erupted into a mass fight: 200 kids speaking Shakespeare with absolute commitment, then beating each other into the ground with air broadswords. Magical.

From the outside, it looks like we’re creating some kind of radical reinterpretation of this sprawling history: three young women play Henry V (and several other roles are split between multiple performers); our production concept is “anime cowboy vs. the Establishment;” we have an ensemble of 13 middle-schoolers whose only job will be to move luggage around and die horribly.

But it’s all “business-as-usual” for the Fall Festival, grounded in its aesthetic values of process-centered work with the children that creates opportunities for everyone, noncompetition, and inclusion in order to inspire a grasp of Shakespeare.

The Festival, which has been around for more than a quarter of a century, emphasizes a different kind of directing, and I’m enjoying the satisfaction of encouraging our students to struggle with their questions, rather than rushing to answer them for them.

Because they need to do the work, I’ve witnessed the deeper sense of ownership and excitement when a student puts together all the complex thoughts in a piece of Shakespearean text and then proceeds to speak it with authority and clarity.

In turn, I’ve felt challenged to be more present and flexible, knowing that the kids can sniff out a fraud with no problem.

I’ve heard so many testimonials from local residents whose children took part in the festival or who were festival kids themselves, and the extraordinary difference the experience made. The emphasis is on personal growth for everyone rather than results, and it warms my process-loving heart.

The title of this post comes from a side-coaching that master clown teacher Christopher Bayes gives during a warm-up exercise that I’ve been using with the students. I find it a pretty apt description of my experience of the festival so far.

I am struggling to re-accustom myself to the pace of a work-a-day schedule, having enjoyed the luxury of working at my own for the last several years. Having to get through a to-do list everyday is tough, but good practice for re-entering the work force in November!

Onward into the first week of rehearsals!

This week, we spent a lot of time talking about the ethic and aesthetic of the Fall Festival, both of which emphasize process over product and place a primary focus on the actor/student as the center of the theatrical event, as opposed to focusing on the auteur, the design, the technical spectacle, etc.

Because those values are in line with my own, I embrace the spirit of the Festival completely. Where I’m struggling right now is figuring out how to incorporate their specialized approaches to working into my own rehearsal technique. It’s hard, sometimes embarrassing, but I think it will be okay!

Tonight, they have a traditional end-of-the-first-week event called “Margaritaville” at Kevin Coleman’s place. I think the name explains it all.

This morning I woke up in a reflective mood, remembering where I was that day 11 years ago (I was in midtown Manhattan, crossing 6th avenue at W. 54th Street, watching the smoke billow in the crystal blue September sky from the south.)

It feels strange to start the Fall Festival, something so joyous and full of light, on a day so encumbered with sadness, and that strange duality can be felt in the room. This morning, we sat in a circle and introduced ourselves with great candor and feeling. I was struck by the level of passion and dedication for this undertaking expressed by the extraordinary group of artists with whom I’ll get to work in the coming months. Education Director Kevin Coleman, who leads the festival, is truly an inspiration.