Jason and the Argonauts! Heroic Theatrics at Clinton Elementary
by COT Teaching Artist Lisa Golda
Last week, my teaching partner Danielle and I taught two stage-intensive sessions at our school, Clinton Elementary, to make sure the students would be ready for their upcoming dress rehearsals of this year’s student opera, “Jason and the Argonauts/Il Giasone”. Scheduling snafus, a complex multitude of costumes and props, and some good-old-fashioned stage fright in some of our star performers had us (and them) feeling a bit frazzled as we approached the culmination of our year-long residency at the school.
We shouldn’t have worried. How wonderful it was to see the kids step up to the plate and take charge of their artistry, and sometimes, each other, during these last rehearsals!
Our younger Clinton class is typically enthusiastic but chatty, which can make focused work a challenge. They acted like professionals in so many ways during this past week’s sessions; so much so that I know that their upcoming performance will be a huge success.
A clamor of children begging for their own sword or shield overwhelmed me early in the rehearsal as I handed warrior gear out to the "Argonauts". Students were thrilled by the props—golden shields, swords, lightning bolts, a ship, sticks of “fire,” fantastic wigs, and a “fire-breathing bull”, many of which they were seeing for the first time. Nagged later for a sword by what seemed like the thousandth Argonaut---whom I had caught air-dueling with our hero Jason---I made a somewhat exasperated announcement that props would be assigned as needed and that play fighting was forbidden.
Imagine my chagrin when "Jason" and "Poseidon" commenced their duel, which I had staged earlier in the week—Poseidon doing his weaponless best. “My bad,” I told the kids, who remembered more than I did. Poseidon got his much-deserved prop, as well as my heartfelt apology!
Several scenes involve imaginary water, which the children create by waving lengths of blue fabric. (“Waving” is actually too gentle a word for the rambunctious rippling and accompanying critiques of waving style meted out by the kids to each other. But water makes noise, right?) At one point, I was concerned that the actors playing our bull might, as they entered in their fantastic costume (thanks, CAPE artist Sonja Henderson and McKinley students!), slip on this “water” while it was on the floor waiting for the next splashy scene. Before I had even finished explaining why, the tide went out in the blink of an eye, the wavers whisking their “water” neatly out of the way. I was so proud of them.
But one of our Jasons, a fifth grader, stole the show when he sweetly took the initiative by holding the microphone out to a shy scene partner playing Chiron the centaur. Talk about team-building! (Illinois Learning Standard #21).
Our older cast is a small but committed bunch of drama gods and goddesses. "Jason", "Mars", "Hypsipyle", "Venus", "Medea", and "Mercury" played their own plus others’ parts at their leads’ rehearsal, threw themselves into their minuet/hip hop dance, and sang their songs with gusto. Bursting with pride, they waved a Clinton teacher into the room to watch their dance routine. They also made helpful observations about the younger cast’s rehearsal, observing it attentively and supportively. Their focus and excitement about the process made it possible for us to run their staging several times.
“It’s fun,” one of them, said, smiling, as rehearsal came to a close. Another young woman thanked me for coming to teach them. “I didn’t get to have opera (class) last year,” she said. "I really like it." “It” being singing, dancing, acting, costumes, struggle, challenge, and all the onstage magic that comes together at the last minute to create the unique team art-making experience that is an opera.
As do I. Boy, but do I really like it.