I'm one of those people who has to write down everything and, most of the time, everything refers to quotes or words that sound nice. In one of my Theater History textbooks a few semesters ago, I found this gem:
"Theater is the most ephemeral of vehicles--a performance, once finished, is lost to time--and the unrepeatability of its accomplishments is a major source of its power."
This is, of course, only one example of why the art of theater is powerful. Its benefits are endless (more on this later). Because frustration is a frequent feeling and we often find ourselves questioning why we do the things we do, I try to remind myself of why I love it regularly. But lately, my spark for theater has been burning especially bright.
The OSU Theater Department has a truly remarkable professor (and human being) named Jodi Jinks. She started a program titled ArtsAloud, in which she travels to Oklahoma correctional facilities once a week to teach a theater class. Over the course of the class, she helps the inmates to create a devised ensemble performance that explores all different forms expression, from poetry to music to movement. Eventually, they combine their contributions into a script that they perform.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to take part in a give-back performance of her class's final script. This allows the inmates to see their work from a different perspective, as audience members. We traveled to the John Lilley Correctional Facility in Boley, OK (AKA: the middle of nowhere), which is right next to Prague, OK (AKA: the reason I thought the Czech Republic Prague was pronounced Pr-AY-gue until my freshman year of high school). Surprisingly, I went into the experience with no preconceived notions; I was simply excited to share their creation with them.
JLCC is a minimum security facility and any subconscious images I had from crime television (AKA: Orange is the New Black) were not at all confirmed. The atmosphere of the facility was friendly. It was instantly apparent that the men were as eager for the performance as we were. And so we began.
You may think, as an actor, I would want to focus on how our performance went. As exhilarating as performing is, the true treat was our subsequent feedback session. When we arrived, I had recognized small hints of it, but all my inferences were quickly confirmed following the performance: Jodi's class gives these men something to look forward to each week. It provides them with an outlet, something that is basically unheard of in such an environment. I saw the way their eyes sparkled when they heard the words they'd written read aloud. I saw their spirits rise as the most contagious form of laughter roared through the audience. I saw a unique vulnerability in each and every one of them; a vulnerability that I hope every human being gets to experience at least once.
That's when I was reminded: "Oh yeah, theater is pretty magical."
But not just theater. All art forms have magnificent power. Perhaps even superpowers! Having the opportunity to express yourself without barriers or expectations is so vastly important. Watching the men at JLCC discover and embrace that opportunity was one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed. Our discussion after the performance proved that the men were empowered by the experience. Their feedback was overwhelming. There we were: strangers from completely different worlds sitting in a circle and connecting through art. It was and honor and a privilege to witness those men transition from feeling powerless and purposeless to recognizing their talent and capabilities.
My experience at JLCC will never be repeated. Just like each and every performance, it is only a fleeting, transient, ephemeral piece of my life. And yet, the feeling I associate with it will remain with me always.
As I approach graduation, it seems quite fitting (and reassuring) to be experiencing these constant reminders of why I've chosen performance as my current path. It's only normal (I hope????) to be questioning everything about the future, including but not limited to: what I'm doing, how I'm going to live, where I'm going to live, why I chose to do something I enjoy instead of something practical, etc., etc.
But here's the good news! I feel confident that the study of this craft has also taught me invaluable life skills. I am a better communicator because of it. I am a better listener. I live much more in the moment. I strive to be much more aware of my surroundings. If you ask me, these are things we can all improve upon, both on and off the stage.
The final and most important trait of theater (in my humble opinion), is that, when you strip it down to its most basic purpose, it is simply storytelling. We are storytellers. And that is SO COOL!
My hope for anyone who may be reading this is to recognize the art in your life and use it in every way you can. Tell your story. Share your passions. For each new encounter with art is ephemeral and should be embraced accordingly.
xoxo,
RMD
"Theater is the most ephemeral of vehicles--a performance, once finished, is lost to time--and the unrepeatability of its accomplishments is a major source of its power."
This is, of course, only one example of why the art of theater is powerful. Its benefits are endless (more on this later). Because frustration is a frequent feeling and we often find ourselves questioning why we do the things we do, I try to remind myself of why I love it regularly. But lately, my spark for theater has been burning especially bright.
The OSU Theater Department has a truly remarkable professor (and human being) named Jodi Jinks. She started a program titled ArtsAloud, in which she travels to Oklahoma correctional facilities once a week to teach a theater class. Over the course of the class, she helps the inmates to create a devised ensemble performance that explores all different forms expression, from poetry to music to movement. Eventually, they combine their contributions into a script that they perform.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to take part in a give-back performance of her class's final script. This allows the inmates to see their work from a different perspective, as audience members. We traveled to the John Lilley Correctional Facility in Boley, OK (AKA: the middle of nowhere), which is right next to Prague, OK (AKA: the reason I thought the Czech Republic Prague was pronounced Pr-AY-gue until my freshman year of high school). Surprisingly, I went into the experience with no preconceived notions; I was simply excited to share their creation with them.
JLCC is a minimum security facility and any subconscious images I had from crime television (AKA: Orange is the New Black) were not at all confirmed. The atmosphere of the facility was friendly. It was instantly apparent that the men were as eager for the performance as we were. And so we began.
You may think, as an actor, I would want to focus on how our performance went. As exhilarating as performing is, the true treat was our subsequent feedback session. When we arrived, I had recognized small hints of it, but all my inferences were quickly confirmed following the performance: Jodi's class gives these men something to look forward to each week. It provides them with an outlet, something that is basically unheard of in such an environment. I saw the way their eyes sparkled when they heard the words they'd written read aloud. I saw their spirits rise as the most contagious form of laughter roared through the audience. I saw a unique vulnerability in each and every one of them; a vulnerability that I hope every human being gets to experience at least once.
That's when I was reminded: "Oh yeah, theater is pretty magical."
But not just theater. All art forms have magnificent power. Perhaps even superpowers! Having the opportunity to express yourself without barriers or expectations is so vastly important. Watching the men at JLCC discover and embrace that opportunity was one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed. Our discussion after the performance proved that the men were empowered by the experience. Their feedback was overwhelming. There we were: strangers from completely different worlds sitting in a circle and connecting through art. It was and honor and a privilege to witness those men transition from feeling powerless and purposeless to recognizing their talent and capabilities.
My experience at JLCC will never be repeated. Just like each and every performance, it is only a fleeting, transient, ephemeral piece of my life. And yet, the feeling I associate with it will remain with me always.
As I approach graduation, it seems quite fitting (and reassuring) to be experiencing these constant reminders of why I've chosen performance as my current path. It's only normal (I hope????) to be questioning everything about the future, including but not limited to: what I'm doing, how I'm going to live, where I'm going to live, why I chose to do something I enjoy instead of something practical, etc., etc.
But here's the good news! I feel confident that the study of this craft has also taught me invaluable life skills. I am a better communicator because of it. I am a better listener. I live much more in the moment. I strive to be much more aware of my surroundings. If you ask me, these are things we can all improve upon, both on and off the stage.
The final and most important trait of theater (in my humble opinion), is that, when you strip it down to its most basic purpose, it is simply storytelling. We are storytellers. And that is SO COOL!
My hope for anyone who may be reading this is to recognize the art in your life and use it in every way you can. Tell your story. Share your passions. For each new encounter with art is ephemeral and should be embraced accordingly.
xoxo,
RMD