Extending yourself
Friday, April 29th, 2005
Last night I went to a local school (Taft) production of Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I don’t go to many of the local school plays anymore, it can be painful to sit through them feeling the anxiety of young people in front of an audience of cringing parents and relatives.
In a dream (or, more accurately a nightmare) I’m up there myself and in front of a packed house I forget my lines, my part, and then as the self-conscious implosion continues, where I am and even who I am save that I am in the middle of a personal disaster. I run off stage and can’t get that feeling out of my head. I even wake up with the feeling. Good thing I don’t have this dream often.
I went to this play for a number of reasons: the lead (McMurphy) was played by Cameron Picton, a friend of mine through drumming who’s mother and grandmother are part of the drum group I’m in. Any time someone I know extends him or herself like this: acts, sings, performs in front of people, I try to be there to cheer them on. It’s both a personal loyalty thing but it also comes from the fact that I am fascinated with the idea of extending yourself beyond where you thought you could go and I want to witness it in people I know and if they’re young people, watch their relatives witness it. I certainly witnessed it in Cameron and the rest of this fine cast last night. They gave it their all and it showed. It’s risky business doing this but anything short of it shows too.
Close to twenty years ago when I was teaching at The Forman School, a school for high school kids with learning disabilities, I was impressed with the drama teacher, Rick Doyle, because he got kids who could hardly read, let alone memorize complex dialogs, to go above and beyond where anyone, including themselves, thought they could go. Rick and I both moved on from Forman at about the same time, he went to Taft School and I started consulting and traveling but I tried to follow his career because I knew he was special. He produced and directed numerous plays and musicals at the local community theater and I went to a few of these productions when I was home, usually because I knew someone in the cast. However, I always acknowledged Rick and of course he tried to reciprocate (as he did last night) by telling me I taught him how to double click a mouse in 1986 (it’s true).
So last night I got to see Rick at it again and it was exciting as always to be part of his scene and witness these students extending themselves.
wild story — I had no Idea that Cam was into preforming — way cool!
Hi – stumbled across this post while searching for some information on Rick Doyle.
I, too, have had the fortunate experience of being heavily influenced by Rick, aka Doyle. I was actually in a few of those plays at the local theater when I was younger as well as being a student of his at Taft not too long ago. He introduced me to a passionate, creative side I never knew I had through both film and theater. He truly does have an amazing ability to peel a person back like an onion and reveal layers previously unknown. If you happen to see him again soon, I’d appreciate it if you let him know I say hello and am doing great in Chicago (although waiting for the right moment to make an re-entrance to theater). ;)
Damon: I see you’re a WordPress user as well and using a theme made right here in Connecticut (Minima Plus).
I don’t see Rick all that often but if/when I do I’ll let him know you’re in Chi-town. Glad to know he’s had that kind of influence on you too.
Oh wow, I didn’t realize the theme was made in CT! I actually grew up there as well, just a few back roads away from Forman.