Friday, May 20, 2011

"Guys and Dolls" Tickets On Sale Now!

You've read all about the behind-the-scenes drama... now see the show!


Click HERE to buy tickets online and have them held for you at the door!

Ticket Prices:
Students $5 / 3 or more = $4
Adults $10 / 3 or more = $8
VIP (first 3 rows) $25
Premium VIP (1st row, sparkling cider & pre-show snack) $50

Hope to see you there!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Countdown to “Guys and Dolls” in the South Bronx, Part 2

By the end of Part 1 of our 100-day countdown to opening night of “Guys and Dolls” at Bronx Prep, 30% of our cast members—including the talented 12th grader who plays Sky Masterson—are on the verge of being kicked out of the show due to grades, I’m on my way to an expulsion hearing for the 10th grader who plays Nathan Detroit, and as if there weren’t enough going on, I’m also launching into the second trimester of my second pregnancy.

Here’s Part 2 of our tumultuous—but ultimately, I hope, inspiring—journey. Stay tuned for next week’s final chapter of our countdown to “Guys and Dolls,” in performance at Bronx Prep May 24th-26th.

46 days until opening night

The expulsion hearing for the young man who plays Nathan is emotionally devastating. All ten people in the room are openly weeping pretty much the whole time, including the principal and the head of school, the teachers who have come to testify on the student’s behalf, the student’s mother, and the student himself.

In a heart-rending apology delivered with shaking hands and quavering voice, the young man admits that he’d gone against his instincts and committed an illegal action on a school trip in an effort to impress one of his alpha-dog friends who had challenged him to do something he knew was wrong.

His other teachers and I speak, each one us acknowledging this student’s otherwise stellar record of community service and school spirit. We wrestle with the excruciating clash between the value of zero-tolerance tough-love and the importance of judging young people’s actions with flexibility and nuance.

When the verdict is announced and the young man is asked to clean out his locker, his mother collapses with grief.

I’m late to rehearsal because I can’t stop crying.

44 days until opening night

The expulsion, one of several stemming from the same incident, has sent shockwaves through the school, and we’ve spent a good part of the last two days packed into the gym in deep conversation as a whole school community.

It feels good to be back here in the now-empty space on a Saturday morning, painting with the set crew. When we leave, there is a sunset stretching across the back wall of the gym’s small stage.

42 days until opening night

Today on my regular D train commute from Brooklyn to the Bronx a teenage boy stands up and offers his seat. I may have officially hit the 3-month-mark on the calendar a few weeks ago, but taking the kid’s seat today is the first time this pregnancy feels fully real. I sit on the train with my hands on my belly, thinking about the mothers of the kids I teach. Soon there will be one more person in the world I care about so much it makes my chest ache.

40 days until opening night

Nathan’s understudy, a magnetic, cheerful, naturally talented 12th grader who has never been in a musical before, misses his first week of rehearsals with his fellow leads. All week I’ve been livid, threatening to kick him out. Then I find out today that he has been attending the wakes of two friends of his who were shot and killed when a scuffle at a party turned violent last weekend. Having been shot himself in the shoulder earlier in the year—the victim of an unprovoked and unexplained drive-by—he’s not only mourning the loss of his friends but also reliving his own traumatic experience.

I pass him on the street on my way out of rehearsal late this afternoon and ask him if he’s doing OK. He pauses and musters a bone-tired smile. “Not really,” he says. Then he hugs me and says, “I’ll be there on Monday.”

37 days until opening night

Today’s Saturday rehearsal offers a momentary glimpse of brightness. While the costume crew sorts colorful clothing, a select group of dancers learns authentic Afro Cuban dance forms from dancer/choreographer Rebecca Bliss. Not only am I proud to infuse the usually-corny Havana scene with movements that come from some of our students’ own cultural traditions, I’m also excited to collaborate with Rebecca, a former fellow high school theater cast member, and now a dear friend.

35 days until opening night

Last night at midnight, third quarter grades were posted. Most of our cast members have gotten their GPA’s up high enough to participate. But despite several weeks of intensive tutoring, support, cajoling, and follow-up, our Sky has missed the mark.

This is a kid I’ve known since he was in 5th grade. He’s extremely bright and has always excelled. I don’t know why he’s given up on himself halfway through his senior year. My instinct is that something complex is going on below the surface, but with all the buzz in the air about accountability—not just in connection with our recent expulsions, but also in the national conversations about test scores, teacher firings and school closings—I feel intense pressure to enforce the grading policy I helped create. I reluctantly gear up to tell this young actor we’ll have to replace him.

Then he walks into rehearsal. His shoulders are slumped and his usually bright eyes are vacant and dim under the brim of the baseball cap he knows he’s not allowed to wear in school.

I agonize for a second. Then my teacher hardwiring kicks in. This kid needs accountability, no doubt, but right now my instinct screams that his need for support comes first. I pull the hat off his head, mentally postpone my final decision for one more day and tell him to open his script.

His first run-through is bland and lifeless. I ask him to do it again. Little by little, the role starts to do its work on him. By the third pass, he’s standing up straighter. His eyes come to life. The lines crackle; the jokes land.

Two hours later, he has completely transformed. His diction is crisp and assured. He holds himself with confidence and poise. There is a swagger in his walk.

Still, we both know there’s an elephant in the room. I send him home and tell him that we’ll need to have a big talk before the end of the week. He nods soberly.

34 days until opening night

I’ve been up most of the night, partly because the baby was kicking me, but mostly because I’ve been stressing about costumes, re-choreographing the end of the opening scene to replace kids who’ve missed too many rehearsals, and struggling over what to do about Sky.

No rehearsal today. My husband and daughter come with me to my 20 week sonogram. We find out that we’re expecting a boy.

33 days until opening night

This afternoon, after a mad flurry of emails to his teachers—some of whom are supportive of giving him a second chance, others of whom warn me that I’m being manipulated by a clever young con artist who is more like the slick-talking character he plays than I’m giving him credit for—I give Sky an ultimatum. If he’s willing to dig deep and write a letter that explains the causes of his sudden apathy, takes responsibility for his past actions, and lays out a detailed accountability plan for the rest of the school year, I will let him stay with the cast—provided he follows through on the plan he creates.

I give him a deadline of midnight tonight for the letter.

At 11:47 PM, his email arrives. The letter attached is well-written, courageous, and heart-felt.

I decide to take the gamble.


Stay tuned for the final installment of this three-part series of posts leading up to opening night of “Guys and Dolls” at Bronx Prep.


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Countdown to “Guys and Dolls” in the South Bronx, Part 1

After eight years of making theater with urban teenagers and witnessing how challenges can be turned into fuel for creativity, I know that Orson Wells was onto something when he said that “the true enemy of art is the absence of limitations.” That’s all well and good, but I’m pretty sure my man Orson never tried putting on a full-length Broadway musical with a hundred South Bronx teenagers on a tiny stage in a school gym while pregnant and raising a two-year-old.

Here’s Part 1 of a condensed 100-day countdown to our production of “Guys and Dolls,” in performance at Bronx Prep May 24th-26th. Witness the mayhem, the misery, and the small moments of grace in the midst of it all, and stay tuned for Part 2 next week.


100 days until opening night

We haven’t even decided which show we’re doing this year and already we can’t seem to catch a break. I find out today that we can’t get a performance license for the “The Color Purple,” which is the musical the student leaders of the Bronx Prep Performing Arts Academy have been clamoring to put on at school ever since they saw it on Broadway two years ago.

I’m sorry that kids who’ve shown such strong initiative won’t get their first choice, and that the now-tight timing means that teachers, not students, will choose the show this year, but I can’t say I’m personally devastated by the news. Deep in the grip of first-trimester crankiness and bracing against one of the coldest, dreariest winters on record, I have to admit that swapping out an emotionally wrenching drama for some good old fashioned jazz-hands sounds like a great idea to me right now.


98 days until opening night

In keeping with tradition, we announce the spring show with a dramatic unveiling of a bulletin board outside of room 201. This year’s crowd of curious kids and teachers is bigger than ever.

After what I hope is a rousing build-up, I rip off the sheet to reveal a hand-painted poster of the New York skyline overlaid with a bright pastel logo for “Guys and Dolls.”

Usually there’s applause. Hollering. Jumping up and down.

This year? Crickets. The kids look around at each other, bewildered. It hits me that they’ve never heard of the show. A posse of high school girls peels away from the crowd and storms off down the hallway.


92 days until opening night

After a few days of stewing over the kids’ reaction to our show choice, I find out that the girls’ exit wasn’t really as huffy as it looked. As one student explains to me today, far from storming off, they’d actually almost trampled each other racing down the hall to the library to Google the show and figure out what leads to start preparing for.


87 days until opening night

I wake up this morning so nauseous and tired I can barely get out of bed, but my mood is buoyed by the turn-out at auditions. Last year we had about 65 kids. This year, 147 kids show up—nearly 20 % of the Bronx Prep student body.

Granted, this means auditions are a logistical nightmare. Not to mention a fire hazard. I agonize about how many kids we’ll have to cut. I also struggle at several points during the first round not to throw up. (I haven’t told the kids I’m pregnant yet and can only imagine what my vomiting during their singing would do to their fragile egos.)

But overall the energy is great. And the best part is that almost a third of the kids trying out are first-timers, most of them guys.


84 days until opening night

Cast list is up. Lots of crying kids. Phone calls to devastated parents. Year after year, I never get used to this part.


83 days until opening night

First rehearsal. Ninety actors packed into a room designed to hold forty-five. How did I let myself cast so many kids this year? Pregnancy hormones to blame?

I share the news that I’m expecting a baby and tell the kids they better not mess with me this year. They grin and rub my belly and promise to be extra calm, quiet, respectful and responsible. I grin back and tell them I’ll believe it when I see it.


72 days until opening night

Tragically, my over-casting might turn out not to be such a big issue after all. Today I discover that almost 30% of our cast members will be academically ineligible to participate unless they get their grades up by the end of the marking period.

The really bad news is that on the list of struggling kids is the actor who plays Sky Masterson, the male lead. Why has this bright, capable young man suddenly given up on himself halfway through his senior year with a lead role on the line?


64 days until opening night

The cast may be a hot mess, but the set crew is holding it down. With so many of last year’s set crew guys now playing roles in the show, most of the crew this year is female.

There is nothing I love more than watching an 11th grade girl teaching a 5th grade girl how to use a circular saw.


53 days until opening night

Chris Moncrief, one of my former students and star of the Bronx Prep Musical Theater program as well as the Speech Team, comes back from his first year at Syracuse University to pay us a visit. Without waiting to be asked, he steps into a rehearsal with a group of middle school boys and within minutes the scene transforms from stilted and flat to rhythmic and hilarious.


47 days until opening night

Drama with our male leads continues to plague us.

Today a friend emails me an Onion article about Barack Obama holding nationwide auditions for “Guys and Dolls.” Even after auditioning 8 million Americans for the role, the article jokes, Obama is still searching for the perfect Nathan Detroit. On any other day I would have laughed out loud at this, but today I can only muster a gallows-humor sigh: soon I might be conducting that same search all over again. I’ve just gotten word that tomorrow I have to attend an expulsion hearing for a 10th grader I’ve known for four years and have come to love like a son—none other than the kid who plays Nathan Detroit.

Stay tuned for the second installment of this three-part series of posts leading up to opening night of Guys and Dolls at Bronx Prep.