Skip to main content

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

It's not every day that you get to spend four hours with people you really like, laughing at everything and anything, bask in the adoration and the occasional scorn of hundreds of elementry school children, and take on the persona of one of the most famous dramatic roles ever. For me, its every Tuesday. For the last year and a half I have been part of a traveling Shakespeare show that performs for children in elementry schools all over the area, and today is my last day in the group.

I auditioned for the group two years ago, to play Orlando in "As You Like It." The director of the group, my friend Chris, said I was good but there just wasn't a part for me. Once I had spat out the bitter bile of failure, I moved on with life and tried again in the spring for the next year's show, "Cymbeline" and got in. I did that for two semesters, and of course had to do it again this year when I heard we'd be doing "Hamlet."

What was it about the idea of performing Shakespeare to children that intrigued me enough to keep auditioning for this group? In fact, I had been told by several fancy-schmancy acting type people that it would be a waste of my time and talent, and was advised to avoid the group at all cost. I have a nasty habit of ignoring advice, good or bad, but in this case I'm glad that I did. Not only was performing the show often fun and rewarding (excepting only that one junior high school in Magna) but I met some of the most amazing people and laughed more than in the rest of my week combined. Some of the friends I made are no longer in the group, like Adrian and Tim and of course Celeste, but some of those who were with me that first year are still part of the team I will be performing with in just a few hours. My darling Spencer, my dear friend Laura who is mad at me right now and has every right to be (I'm sorry, Laura), the delightful Debra, the ever irreverent Chris Clark, and our amazingly efficient and patient stage manager, Becky. We've been joined this semester with two new friends who have made this past semester so much fun: David and Fallon.

I can't quite explain how much I have looked forward to Tuesday afternoons for the past year and a half. Especially in the past semester, when performing the show has been such a joy. Our version of Hamlet is a bit goofy and simple, but I think its really solid with real substance to it that the kids really enjoy. There was a lot of concern that a stuffy old tragedy like Hamlet could never hold the attention of 2nd through 6th graders, but I'm here to tell you that every school we've been to so far has told us how amazed they were that the kids were as interested and focused on the play as they were. I think we underestimate kids, we expect little of them, we don't think them capable of very much. Most of them handle Hamlet just fine; true, we help them out and make it easier to understand, but in the end its still difficult material and they are getting it! They haven't been filled with notions of "Shakespeare is boring and impossible to understand" that so many adults have to get over. They are a blank canvas, and I'd like to think in my idealistic way that we are shaping their perceptions of the Bard and theater in a postive way that will last the rest of their lives.

And to be Hamlet! Even in a one hour children's theater adaptation, there is such a thrill to perform those famous lines, to take upon me the mantle of that mythic figure. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. But being Hamlet is only a small part of the fun of my Tuesday afternoons. The best part of the whole experience is riding in the van to and from the school, when we as a group of friends can talk and laugh and bring up old jokes and make new ones, make fun of cheesy Christmas songs, hear embarrassing stories from Chris's past, discuss inappropriate and awkward subjects with ease, spread gossip about famous people, and argue about where to eat.

That's what I'll miss most, my friends, when I'm stuck at work on Tuesdays from now on. I'll miss Arctic Circle, I'll miss singing in unison at the top of our lungs, I'll miss screaming "We're going to roll over!!!" every time Becky makes a slightly sharp turn, I'll miss the way Chris covers his mouth while giggling at something he knows is scandalous, the way Spencer enjoys being the ever-present butt-grabbing threat. I'll miss picking out the hot teacher, trying to convince jaded and cynical children that yes, this is a real sword, miss delivering the most famous lines of the English language right into the faces of ten year-olds, miss the inside jokes, the stories, the pranks, the bathroom humor (being delivered, as it is, in the bathroom). But most of all I'll miss you, my friends. I know most of you aren't doing the play next semester, but to those of you who are I just want to say: I hate you.

Comments

Debra Darling said…
You can hate me all you want, but you should just remember: you brought this on yourself...
Love,
The delightful Debra
And thanks for coining that name for me. I like being delightful.
Anonymous said…
Hamlet is the best Shakespeare play, in my opinion as you very well know. I'm sad it has to end for you, but it sounds like you have oodles of wonderful memories. Its always nice to be able to take something small but important from the things you give your all to. And you got friends from this, the best gift of all. Sorry about the embarassment of last night involving you/Davin... ahem. Sorry. Hope your car is feeling better! Sayj
voyageuse said…
Matt, I'm not mad at you! I was disappointed because I really liked the show and I wanted you to see it. But believe me, this is not the first time something like this has happened to me-- I'm used to it. And it's not like you didn't care, I know you did. Thanks for making YC so enjoyable- I remember back in Classics when I was talking with you about auditioning for it, I'm so glad I did! Call me whenever you want to watch Hedwig.
topher clark said…
Because I'm a big nerd, I printed this blog out so I could keep it. And I also got teary eyed. And that made me mad, because Deb wasn't around to see the tears!!!!

When I open my eyes, the person I'm looking at will be VERY MISSED next semester....


BLINK!!!!
Anonymous said…
Oh goodness Matt, I got a little choked up while reading this - it's beautiful :). Thanks for doing the show - we're going to miss you so much! I'm going to make sure that all new cast members read that blog.
Becky

Popular posts from this blog

The Only Thing We Have to Fear...

It's October, which means not only do I get to start dipping into my nifty fall wardrobe but also that Halloween is upon us. I think its great that we devote specific holidays to various basic emotions of the human psyche. Halloween = fear, Valentine's day = love, Thanksgiving = gratitude, St. Patrick's Day = envy, and Christmas = greed. We're just missing wrath, lust, pride, sloth, gluttony, and inadequecy. Clearly, more holidays are necessary. But that's a subject for another day. We don't want to give Halloween less than its due. Because seriously, how cool is Halloween? Its way off the scale on the cool-o-meter. When else can you see even the most pious and sensible people indulging in a little of the supernatural and occult by dressing up their children as vampires, witches, or ghosts? Well, that's how it was back in my day anyway (which was soooooo long ago), but today kids dress up as Jedi, princesses, Harry Potter, or Spiderman. They are totally miss

I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent...

I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent. Though, despite the elaborate disguise Consisting of a single pair of bent, Simple specs, they're not two different guys But only one, still I said what I meant: I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent. I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent I guess because one of them's more like me And does not always get what he wants And struggles with our vulnerability. And does not by his perfection command The adoration of every woman and man But sits in the back, with nothing to say Just hoping that Lois Lane looks his way. She doesn't - her eyes are glued to the sky. Wake up, Lois! Can't you see the guy Waiting to love you with all of his might? He may not leap buildings, he may not fly, He may not see through you with x-ray eyes, He might need YOUR help, if that's alright, From time to time, when his mortal heart cries. He combs his hair neatly and fights through the crowd, Decides what to say, and rehearses out loud, He summons his

God Bless Us, Every One

Call me a Scrooge, but I've found that the last couple of years Christmas just hasn't carried the same sense of wonder and excitement it once did. When I was a kid, I was ready to pee my pants every day in December just thinking about the twenty-fifth, which crept closer so slowly that the month was always filled with blissfully tortuous anticipation. The sense of suspense, the agony of not knowing what the fantastically wrapped boxes contained, was only heightened by the lights, the music, the snow, and everything you knew meant it was Christmas time. Back then, my heart's desires cost about twenty bucks and, tragically, seemed both completely unobtainable and the key to my whole life's happiness. This was the season, then, when miracles of a very practical kind could happen; objects only admired on the shelf, or at a friend's, or in some abstract sense of obsession could literally become my own and wind up, eventually, in pieces somewhere in my closet. I like to c