Under the Surface

This post is from Cameron MacManus, pictured here in the purple cap as Alexander in Open Dream Ensemble's production of Big Shoes. 

Today, we performed at The Stokes Opportunity Center, a vocational day program for mentally handicapped adults, for around 20 students.  It was one of our most unusual performances (very little in the way of props and costumes), and also one of the most playful and spontaneous.  Prior to our rendition of Big Shoes, we were treated to some great performances by the students and got to collaborate with then on some short plays.  The whole day was great fun, but there were so many layers of meaning under the surface.  I think that is true for every interaction we have had with students and teachers this season.  Whether or not we are aware in the moment, there is so much more information imparted beyond the words and the actions in Big Shoes or in our lesson plans. 

We enter schools as a certain kind of ‘other’ that many students may have not seen in person.  As such, we are showing students new possibilities of how to perceive the world, work with others, and explore abilities without fear of negative judgements.  I like to imagine that there are a few students at every school we go to that decide to dedicate some part of their lives to the pursuit and enjoyment of the arts, and that all acquire a wider view of the world and all the possibilities in it from having met people who can give a face and a name to the term ‘artist’. 

I feel so lucky to have been a part of this cast and playing a part in telling this story.  Now it’s off to other projects: writing big band jazz music, practicing for auditions, and building a teaching studio.  I’m excited to have the necessary time for these pursuits, but I’ll miss this fantastic cast, the long van rides, the load-in and outs, and the thousands of unforgettable moments in the classroom that make up an Open Dream Ensemble season.  Long live the Open Dream Ensemble!

Moving Mountains

This post is from Cameron MacManus. In addition to his many musical and stage gifts, Cameron possesses those rare gifts of perpetual positivity and a highly-functional immune system. He is pictured here in the role of Gordy.

Around every corner of the trail and every turn of the page lies the possiblity to move in new directions and explore new roles. The chance to work as a teaching artist with the Open Dream Ensemble came as quite a surprise last spring. Now after over three months of total immersion in Gordy’s world, I can look back at the season and marvel at all we accomplished together. We moved mountains. That most daunting upward projection of the earth’s crust - Mount Blacklock, along with pink trees, the roll drop, the improbably heavy floor, the table and bench, instruments, the (un)sound equipment, and a myriad of costumes and props traveled with us along the highways of North Carolina and Virginia and helped us to engage the imaginations of thousands of young people. While those set pieces now slumber in a dark storage unit, the living inhabitants of that wonderful world continue our lives in the arts. For many of us, that means taking up day jobs that allow us to pursue our creative endeavors. As I return to other employment, I find that I have not simply spent a quarter of the year in another world, but have broadened the world I live in. Not only have I benefited in my own artistic life from the inspiration of working with some of the most talented and dedicated people in our community, but I feel more connected to the Winston-Salem arts community and the community at large. It is encouraging to discover that the two are more intertwined than it feels during those many solitary hours of practicing my instrument or writing music (or working other jobs to make sure that I can do those things). Already, several people in my neighborhood have mentioned that they saw either Big Shoes at a local school or the performance with the Winston-Salem Symphony. Having ascended to the summit, I see that there are so many more mountains to climb, and so many wonderful explorers to share the journey with. Thank you Thomas S. Kenan Institute for the Arts, UNCSA, and all the wonderful people who make the Open Dream Ensemble a reality!

Residency Work(s)

This post is from Open Dream Ensemble General Manager and Artistic Producer, Rebecca Nussbaum. Today marks the final day of Open Dream Ensemble residency work this season. At first glance it seems like an impossible mission: artists, Essential Standards, 20+ children in a classroom, arts activities. Each year we take artists, give them a week of training, a teaching artist partner, and a charge to bring the performing arts into the classroom through science standards. Artists are used to being diligent, patient, and creative. They are used to using their brains, bodies and reflexes to create and interpret art. They are generally NOT used to ingesting elementary science standards, teaching classrooms full of children, and writing out lesson plans. But year after year I have found that most artists are intrinsically good teachers. They enjoy the challenge of creating something that combines seemingly disparate fields. They enjoy getting children on their feet and bringing them into the wonderful realm when science, music, drama, dance, and imagination live. This has been a wonderful year to watch the Open Dream Ensemble artists develop in the classroom. From the opening day of teaching artist training to the tentative first moments running a class to where they currently are, 234 classes completed – capable, gifted, creative teaching artists. The returning cast has deepened their practice; the new cast has developed some impressive chops. Kudos to all of them and my thanks to each of them for being such curious, creative, and compassionate people!

Glow Stick Moments

This post is from our word-ninja, the marvelous Michaela Morton! She is pictured here, in purple, as Deepish in Big Shoes.

Here's what it is to tour with Open Dream: I head down to the pool at 4PM, after a long day of teaching (three grades and four science classes each), performance (one run of Big Shoes at 7:50 AM), and loading out the set. I expect my cast-mates to be lounging. And while they're gleeful in the afternoon sun, they're certainly no lazybones. Marissa started swimming yesterday, and with a team of coaches has gone from barely making it through the pool crosswise to proudly swimming its length. She has also written a re-vamped "Habanera" from Carmen -- now with volcanoes! -- and is rehearsing on a penny whistle while Julianne sings bass. Ted just remembered the answer to a killer question in 4th grade science ("hydroponic bays!" he shouts, apropos of nothing) and while William tries to puzzle out the source of a burn on his arm -- we agree that with her all-seeing logic, Marine would know -- I lie in the sun. Occasionally I do a crunch, just to keep up my end of the bargain. It seems that it's learning and teaching, 24/7, and the work is indeed play.

In one whirlwind month, Big Shoes has gone from bare bones -- the script -- to in-the-flesh live performance. Now you could say that we're toning the muscles. And while hauling sets is definitely tightening our triceps, the heaviest lifting happens in the classroom.

It'd hard to work simply. I've found that it's difficult to heed my own advice -- to bring a playful spirit to work -- as I often get so boggled by the complexity of classroom dynamics that I forget to have fun. And then William brings out his guitar and I can't help having fun. It all just flows. Haydee's craft in the classroom inspires me with its simplicity, and two days in, Julianne has given me words that will stick: "I always think about tempo. Don't push too fast. Don't get frustrated. Keep an even tempo." (She was talking about swimming, but it works for teaching, too.)

I'll let you in on a secret: in college, people used to ask me whether I was going to be a teacher. It's something about English majors: we get that question, all the time, and I do mean all the time. My answer was usually a definite, emphatic, let's-change-the-subject-now kind of "No." Once or twice I might have said, "Maybe college, maybe when I'm older, maybe someday, but it's not in the cards for now." Given my reluctance, it was almost inevitable that I'd be teaching right out of college. And I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised at how delightful that has been.

Today, we asked a group of 5th graders to unpack a definition of decomposers. Quinn raised his hand and asked if he could explain. He told us that decomposers are like the linking pieces that connect a chain of glow sticks. Without them, you might as well leave the sticks alone. With them, you can turn a flat line into a circle of light.

My new name for moments of magic in the classroom: glow stick moments. And these kids are lighting the way already.