The Power of Context

In IB Theatre, a great deal of time is devoted to discussing the personal, cultural, and societal context of artistic expression. Students are asked to explore their own context, giving them insight in to how their life experience might inform and inspire their creativity.  Social, political, and cultural context can provide rich subtext for original works and breathe new life into existing works. Never was this so evident than in my most recent directorial endeavor with GODSPELL at Santa Margarita Catholic High School.

Initially, I found GODSPELL, a musical by Stephen Schwartz and John -Michael Tebelak, based on the Gospel of St. Matthew to be a challenging show. The first act, which according to Schwartz, should focus on developing community and relationship among the cast members  through the telling of  Parables, relies on various story-telling devices and clownish humor. The second act follows more closely the Passion of Jesus from the Last Supper through His Crucifixion. The transitions between the parables and songs and the style of storytelling are left entirely up to the director. While this allows for a great deal of creative license, it makes for a highly improvisational and unstructured rehearsal process.

Whenever I choose a play or musical, I try to consider the space in which the show is to be performed. In this case, the venue was a sprung tent-like structure called "The Dome." The dome is an unconventional space which lends itself to environmental theatre.  As I began to consider GODSPELL, the dome seemed to provide the freedom in staging that I felt the show required.

Given the nature of educational theatre, I also seek to give as many students an opportunity to perform as possible. GODSPELL is written for a cast of ten performers. Adapting the script for nearly forty performers was a daunting task.  Without any character names, the casting of each parable, song, and role was based entirely on the personalities and qualities of the individual ensemble members. Each ensemble member also took on the role of a homeless person in the encampment and created their own back story. Those characters then took on roles within the parables adding to the "story within a story" casting complexity.

In the early conceptual phase, my intention was to set the show in a refugee camp. That initial concept morphed into setting the show in a motel and adjacent parking lot where "homeless" families are housed close to  Disneyland. Ultimately, it was the set design created by one of my students that inspired us to set the show right in our own back yard in a  fictitious homeless encampment under a freeway overpass near Angel Stadium.  The setting of an actual homeless encampment along the Santa Ana Riverbed had been the subject of frequent news stories thus our setting for GODSPELL resonated deeply with the cast, crew and audience.

I had been inspired by a faculty service project I had participated in at Santa Margarita during which the faculty filled back packs with essential items for homeless members of the community. I envisioned a similar service project involving audience members filling backpacks as they entered the dome before GODSPELL. Initially, I thought that we would create a human assembly line and pass the backpacks from the audience members to the stage. However, in the end, we decided to have the audience members actually bring the backpacks down to the stage on their way out to intermission. In the second act, I knew I wanted to build a mound of back packs to create Golgotha for the Crucifixion scene. This idea remained in tact and was a powerful image.  Ultimately, I chose to have the cast wear the backpacks as they processed out singing "Long Live God and Beautiful City." It was a highly symbolic  and moving visual metaphor for the Resurrection.

The context of homelessness provided a powerful focus for the show and shed new light on the parables and the Gospel message of Jesus. Interwoven throughout the show were projections that juxtaposed images of homelessness with the Beatitudes, the parable of the Sheep and Goats, and a soup kitchen during the song, "Beautiful City."

The initial directorial challenges I faced began to melt away as it became clear that the context of the show's setting  was providing potent meaning and relevance.
I was reminded again of how important it is to be patient with the process. GODSPELL also reinforced my belief that if the process has integrity, the product will have integrity.  By all accounts, GODSPELL touched the hearts of the audience.  Ultimately, 650 backpacks were delivered to the Illumination Foundation to be distributed to members of the homeless community.   A total of $3000  was raised from ticket sales and donations for first and last month's rent for a homeless family.

The process of producing and directing GODSPELL with a group of committed, creative, and passionate student designers and performers made this experience one of the most satisfying of my educational theatre career. The transformative power of Theatre on Purpose was on full display and continues to move in the hearts of those touched by the show.

Building a Beautiful City

SMCHS Talon Theatre's production of Godspell opens on November 2nd in the Eagle Dome and runs through November 5th. The show is set in a fictitious homeless encampment and is being done in partnership with the Campus Ministry to raise awareness and support for the homeless community of Orange County. The cast and crew have undertaken a service project in conjunction with the production that includes a back pack and hygiene drive. The goal is to fill 650 backpacks with necessities to be donated at the end of the run. $1.00 of every ticket sale is being donated to the Illumination Foundation for first and last months rent for a needy family. Junior and senior students visited the Children's Resource Center of the Illumination Foundation in Santa Ana on a rehearsal day to play theatre games with the children and to learn more about the important work being done through the Illumination Foundation. The students also visited the Isaiah House at the OC Catholic Worker where they performed the song "All Good Gifts" from Godspell for the residents. The set, lights, costumes, projections, and makeup for the show are being designed entirely by Talon Theatre students. They have researched and studied the issue of homelessness in Orange County over the course of the production process and have been awakened to the shocking statistics and misinformation about many in the homeless community. Godspell, a musical by Stephen Schwartz and John-Michael Tebelak, based on the Gospel of St. Matthew, provides a context to explore social justice issues through the parables and the story of the Passion of Jesus Christ. The musical score, composed by Schwartz, includes such familiar hits as "Day by Day," and "Beautiful City." The Talon Theatre production of Godspell is another example of how the arts can be used to make the world a better place. Together, we can "build a beautiful city - yes we can." This is Theatre on Purpose. 

Godspell is directed by Amy Luskey-Barth, Choreographed by Casey Garritano with Musical Direction by W. Chris Winn and Technical Direction by Mark Robertson. For ticket information contact www.smhs.org

A Week of Hope

I have been taking students to the International Thespian Festival at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln since 1995. People who don't understand why I'd spend a week of my increasingly shorter summer in hot, humid Lincoln give me looks that say, "I'm so sorry" or "how awful." It's hard to explain why living in a dorm with a bunch of teenagers, staying up until 1:00 a.m. for bed check at curfew, eating meals in the cafeteria, and walking miles across campus in blistering heat, on  blistering feet is one of the most enjoyable weeks of my vacation.

Years ago, I read a book by Jean M. Auel called Clan of the Cave Bear.  While I don't recall a great deal about the story, I do remember the impact that the idea of a clan had on me.  According to Webster's dictionary,  one of the definitions of  a clan is a group of people with a strong, common interest.  For theatre students and teachers, being at the International Thespian Festival is like finding one's clan.  This clan is energetic, passionate, generous, kind, helpful, creative, serious-minded, skilled, and accepting. For over twenty years, I have found this to be true.  For as much change as there has been since I first started going to the International Thespian Festival in 1995 (I'm not sure how we managed without cell phones, texting, and Guidebook apps) the essence of the experience has remained exactly the same - students, teachers, guest artists coming together in a massive celebration of educational theatre.

For anyone who has lost hope in the next generation, there is no need to despair. The 2017 International Thespian Festival,  bursting at the seams with over 4,000 theatre artists, proved to me again that our future is bright.  It is a privilege to spend a week where hope is alive and well. We witness remarkable performances by talented young actors, listen to new plays and musicals developed by high school students, laugh together at improvisation and cry together as topics such as teen suicide and gun violence are tackled by emerging theatre artists finding their voices.

Spend a week with this clan, and cynicism melts away. I am more convinced than ever that theatre is one of the most powerful and transformative tools we have as human beings to affect positive  change in our world . Empowering students by giving them the  opportunity to come together with other working artists is affirming, encouraging, and inspiring.

I highly recommend that anyone new to educational theatre, spend a week in Lincoln with this Educational Theatre "clan."  You will come back knowing that your work is not only a noble profession but a calling. What you do matters not only to your students, but to our world.   What greater example of Theatre on Purpose can there be?

Speaking of Art

Imagine a world without the music of Mozart, the beauty of a Michelangelo sculpture, the social commentary of an Arthur Miller drama, the grace of a Balenchine ballet, or the melody of Rodgers and Hammerstein musical? Each of these forms of artistic expression - music, dance, visual arts, and theatre tell the stories of civilizations, societies, cultures, - in short - humanity.  As Shakespeare said, "All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players."

As an arts in education "advocate," I spend a lot of time thinking about how to articulate the value of the arts in education to the non-arts oriented population.

The defense of an arts education inevitably leads to framing an argument that includes
- how a child's involvement in drama or theatre helps to develop their self confidence.
- how in the digital age of the 21st Century, the arts rely on human- face to face, eye to eye interaction thus developing ever diminishing interpersonal communication skills that include tone of voice, listening, and give and take of conversation and dialogue.
- how in an "instant text message, snap chat society",  developing technique and striving for mastery through  practice and  rehearsal, is not instant but  takes time and patience.

Sometimes, advocating for the value of an arts education  gets reduced to pointing out the quantifiable statistical evidence of higher test scores among students who  study music for example.

The importance of an arts education is often evaluated on the basis of the core skills sought after by 21st century employers such as collaboration, team work, flexibility, adaptability, leadership, problem solving and analysis guaranteeing security for a person's future.

The most common question high school parents ask me is, "How will my son or daughter make a living?"  This well meaning, understandable concern is driven by fear as if to say by encouraging a child's artistic impulses, creative imagination, or artistic passion - like opening Pandora's box -  something will be unleashed that is  uncontrollable - even dangerous.  Therefore some would say it is best not nurture a child's impulses or desires but redirect the child onto a path that will lead to "success."

Our schools have evolved into places that promote a culture of  competition leading to an environment that breeds anxiety-ridden kids  who fear that if they waste their time in arts electives, their academic record will be impacted. All of this is driven by the cost of higher education and the extreme pressure of college admissions. The value of  the arts is diminished based on a perceived notion that they are not as important as math or science.

But waging an argument against this line of thinking as an  arts advocate starts from a results and product oriented argument and misses something that I believe to be much more important.  As arts advocates we must articulate the value of the artistic process in education.  We must ask ourselves,

What kind of human beings do we want to shape for the future?

Exposure to the arts enlivens the spirit and provides a language and vocabulary with which to interpret the world.  This language is a form of communication that has a transformative power.
 The arts help to develop citizens of the world with empathy, appreciation for cultural diversity, and a heart for social justice in overcoming oppression. The arts provide tools to combat hatred and discrimination. As Albert Einstein said,

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”

A process -oriented  arts education where students learn about who they are in relation to others is an arts program with purpose beyond skill development or financial security. If the programming has integrity, those aspects will likely be an outcome as well  - but helping a child to discover his or her purpose in life through artistic processes in the context of their lives not only matters, but I would say is essential to our world.  That is Theatre on Purpose.

Make Stuff

About twenty years ago I discovered the artist Fred Babb's gallery in Cambria, California. I bought a poster book with the title, "Go To Your Studio and Make Stuff."  http://www.fredbabbart.com
His artwork combined with pithy artistic nudges served as an inspiration for me then and continues to this day. While he has since passed on, the fact that his work continues to loom in my imagination is a testimony to why it's so important to go to your studio and make stuff!

As Agnes DeMille famously said to Martha Graham, "There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and be lost. The world will not have it. "

Making stuff - creating content - is what an artist does.  An artist should not judge its worth - rather, she must trust the deep instinct, the impulse, the inner voice and as Martha Graham said,  "Keep the channel open."  

As artists, we all suffer with self- doubt and wrestle with the question of whether our work is good enough.  We all struggle with discipline and stamina particularly when we feel blocked.  At certain points in our journey, we may even feel like giving up. Pushing through and persevering during those times is what often allows us to chisel out of stone, a great sculpture. That's why it's so important to go to your studio and make stuff!  An artist's self-worth comes from the creative process. Blocking that channel is like an artistic heart attack. The blood ceases to flow through our veins and we feel creatively dead.

As a theatre educator, I strive to make my classroom a "studio" in which my students experiment and create. I believe it is the most important thing I can do to ensure the next generation of theatre makers. Let them make their stuff. As a teacher it can feel like a high wire act without a net. No concrete lesson plan or road map for this type of classroom.  Rather the experience is exciting, daunting, messy, and real.  The role of the teacher in this sort of environment is not to direct or fix but rather to question.

Questions force students to clearly articulate their vision and intended impact. Questions  help them  to shape their storytelling. A teacher needs to stay engaged through the process in order to formulate the right questions while controlling the impulse to tell them what should happen. The role of the teacher in this type of classroom is as a facilitator, mentor, or guide.

The degree to which a teacher should intervene depends of course on the group. Navigating the messy process of collaboration with teenagers can sometimes require gentle forms of conflict resolution. However, if the class has been adequately equipped and prepared by establishing rules of collaboration, conflicts can be kept to a minimum and communication can lead to problem solving.

In my opinion, this is what it means to be a theatre educator: To give your students  the opportunity to go to their "studio"  and make stuff, to push on and to keep the channel open. This, to me is the fulfilling work of Theatre on Purpose.

Directorial Musings...The Glass Menagerie

     Everybody's a critic. It's true. And yes, so am I.  But as a theatre educator, I use the process of critique  almost as an academic exercise.  As I attempt to analyze a production, I force myself to formulate my thoughts in way that helps me to grow as a theatre educator and director. I teach my students to separate the play from the production. This is not an easy concept for young theatre students because it challenges them to understand the relationship between playwright and director, and the concepts of intent versus interpretation.  Such was my own challenge with the Broadway revival of The Glass Menagerie with Sally Field.

     I'll admit it. When I walked in to the Belasco Theatre and saw the nearly bare stage, I was disappointed. I didn't know what to think but I knew the production had received mixed reviews - none of which had I read.  The question I found myself asking was to what degree should a director reimagine or reinvent a play and what is the line between the directorial vision and the playwright's intent?  

     My stock answer is that if directorial and design choices serve to illuminate the text in light of a new context or perspective then what's the harm? But I also feel that a director needs to exercise some respectful caution not to flex their creative muscle just because they can. I emphasize to my students the importance of justifying artistic choices and being able to articulate their intended impact. Cleverness for cleverness sake is not a good reason to do something on stage. 

     A week after seeing The Glass Menagerie, I find myself questioning that bare stage, the dull costuming (save Amanda's cartoonish pink tulle dress) and the startling interpretation of Laura's disability. The minimal production elements magnified the profoundly moving performance by  Madison Ferris as a wheelchair bound Laura.  I couldn't help but think of  the late Rick Curry, SJ, founder of the National Theatre Workshop for the Handicapped (NTWH) and how pleased he would have been to see that Broadway had finally achieved his personal mission to cast actors with physical disabilities rather than casting actors to "play" a character with a disability.  I found myself wondering if Sam Gould's choice to reinterpret what Tennessee Williams describes as a slight limp was a way to externally exaggerate Laura's internal self -consciousness of her "clump."  Regardless of the reason, the choice made the character of Laura so central to the play that it caused me to question its impact on the text.

     Perhaps I am being too literal, but given the directorial choice to have Laura carried to the stage from the house, I found it difficult to believe that she ever could have made it to typing school on her own let alone spend days at the bird-house at the zoo. But maybe that was the point. Lay bare all other production elements including a minuscule, nearly invisible glass menagerie, while emphasizing Laura's physical disability may have revealed Amanda's delusional hopes for her daughter and heightened Tom's anguish as the memory of his sister haunts him in store front windows. The production's inconsistencies make an interesting study in opposites:  

Southern lyricism versus an A-tonal modern quality, illusion versus starkness, darkness versus light.

     The extreme contrast in lighting served to underscore the sadness of the story.  The soft, flickering candle- lit scene between Laura and Jim allowed the audience to sit with the aching pathos of Laura's crush, the wincing heartache of a broken unicorn, and the awkward embarrassment of Jim's escape from the clutches of Amanda's delusional dream.  Then, suddenly the lights are turned in an interrogative style onto  the audience, harshly revealing  that bare, unadorned stage, the ugly truth of this dysfunctional family, and the audience as witness to the truth.  As Tom opens the play saying,  "I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion" - in this production, the audience is left with the broken hearted remnants of a shattered illusion.

     I can't say I loved this production, but I appreciated its boldness and it likely will remain with me for a very long time.  It is for this reason that I believe students should be exposed to a wide range of productions in order to sharpen their directorial eye, wrestle with interpretation, and expand their understanding of theatrical story-telling.  

     

     

Directorial Musings....Fun Home

"And yet...."
Two words that say there is something else. Something unsaid. Something unknown. I marvel at the power of a well conceived lyric.
In listening to the musical  FUN HOME I am even more impressed with the writing and the score by Lisa Kron and Jeanine Tesori. Fragments of memory are effectively woven and expressed through a musical motif that evokes yearning and remembering. Phrasing, unfinished sentences, thoughts only partially spoken out loud. A void, a space, a pause, an emptiness as deep as a cavern.  But we know what is unsayable and we wait and watch until the characters can finally say it.
This show continues to resonate with me. In listening to it I hear a stress, a tension, a self-consciousness that is palpable in the character of Bruce. He sounds like someone always on the brink of exploding. It is wrenching. This is material that the author Alison Bechdel knows so well. That may seem obvious, but plenty of families choose to pretend, ignore, and deny. It takes guts to look at the truth of one's family and Bechdel does it with honesty and humor.
Each character in FUN HOME is well developed and achingly restrained. A perfect blend of book, score, direction and writing.  I haven't been this captivated by a musical since I saw NEXT TO NORMAL. I am drawn to complex texts with layers of subtext and characters with complicated relationships. Denial, secrecy, choice, discovery, and revelation are powerful storylines. The skill with which the creators of FUN HOME tell the story is truly admirable. The narrative structure is clever without being contrived.  Clearly, this is a musical that will stand the test of time.  It instantly imprinted on my psyche the way Sondheim's INTO THE WOODS did.  Audience members will focus on different aspects of the storyline and be moved by each in their own way based on their own context.   There is plenty to mine in this story. The fact that I'm still thinking about it days after seeing it and am analyzing its structure, relationships, and characters, I know it has made a significant impact on me. For that, I am grateful and inspired.

It's the Little Things

I have often been asked what differentiates a good production from a great one. There are many things that elevate a show to greatness of course. But I believe every element of a great production can be reduced to these two principles: attention to detail and finding the moments.

In educational theatre, directors are forced to wear many hats often leading them to feeling overwhelmed.  The nuances can be missed and artistic choices can take a back seat to the bigger demands of the job.  After all, getting a group of emotionally-charged adolescents focused and working together as a team while mounting a full scale production on a tight budget is a tall order. 

But the things that bring a show to the next level are also the fun things that bring about satisfaction with the end product and leave an audience recognizing the difference but not being able to pinpoint exactly what it was that made it so.  

So for what its worth, here are my top ten ways to take your show to the next level: 

1. Pick good material. It will never betray you.

2. Know the style of your show and honor it. Keep it consistent throughout. Beware of modern   casualness creeping in to body language and diction. 

3. If the script inherently calls for a dialect - use it.  Some plays are written with a rhythm and cadence that is driven by regional, ethnic, or cultural dialects. Guys and Dolls without the "Runyonese" loses the humor and kills the punchline.  Fiddler on the Roof  without the Yiddish inflection loses the melody.  "Right? Of Course right!"

4. Pay attention to punctuation...especially ellipses...

5. Analyze the text with your actors. There is nothing worse than students not understanding what they are saying or why they are doing what they are doing. The "aha" moment when a character's motivation becomes clear to the actor is thrilling. I have been known to take hours working over just a few lines in order for my actors to understand every word and subtext before getting them on their feet. If done well, a scene will practically block itself.  I'm a big fan of the  Atlantic Theatre Company's Practical Handbook for the Actor technique myself.

6.  Pay attention to pacing. Know when to pick up the tempo and when to slow it down. Know when to pause. Let the moment happen. Don't rush it. 

7.  Create interesting stage pictures that communicate the tension, emotion, atmosphere or meaning  of the moment. 

8.  Beware of cleverness for cleverness sake. Don't give in to the cheap laugh or clap trap. Schtick is schtick. Leave to the stand ups.

9. Whatever the budget, put the money where they can see it. Production values are important. Know how fabric works under light. Understand color, texture, line, and form. Don't let an actor go on stage looking bad. Shoes make the costume. Sorry. I know character shoes are the standard go-to for most musicals. Attention to detail in shoes not only gives the show a "look" - it will help your actors get in to character.  The old adage, accessories make the outfit is as true in costuming as in real life.

10. Remember it's a process. Young actors need to season. It takes time.

The Importance of Creating Original Work with Theatre Students

I am convinced that the most important work done in any theatre program is for students to develop and present original material. I have championed this kind of work for my entire educational career.  For a teacher, it is a high wire act balancing the impulse to jump in, rescue, direct, and edit with the free-fall of surrender allowing students the freedom to fail and succeed on their own.
It is not for the faint of heart.

While the process for creating theme-based original work can take on a variety of forms, I have found certain aspects of the IB Theatre Collaborative Project to be highly effective. I have adopted a number of its approaches and combined them with my own Theatre on Purpose method.

 The process begins the theatre class assessing their individual interests, theatrical skills, and passions. Determining the make-up of ensembles is a  critical first step. Recognizing that a production team should be comprised of people with complimentary interests and diverse skill-sets is an important lesson not only for theatre but for any collaboration.  Once the class is divided into ensembles, the group draws up a list of rules for collaboration. Mutually agreed upon, these rules are similar to a contract to which  all are held. This process encourages communication and a philosophical work ethic.

The ensembles explore potential topics for their original piece. This is an exciting yet murky time in the process as each student introduces ideas and starting points for the work based on their personal context. The exploration of the starting point is guided by various processes. The more versed the students are in the elements of theatrical story-telling, the greater their ability to attempt new and different approaches. The degree to which students have been exposed to various styles of dramatic literature, genre, and narrative structure impact this stage of the process. Directorial practices,  combined with some knowledge of rehearsal processes and ensemble work contribute to the final outcome.

Along the way,  students struggle with clarity. Conceptual ideas must be transformed into practical performance using whatever means available. Their days are filled with moments of discovery and discouragement.

Through the process, students learn about themselves. They learn the importance of team work. They begin to understand  their own personality. The come face to face with their own ego. They learn to listen to others and to focus on a common goal. They strive to articulate a vision and intention for their work.  Most often, students create pieces of theatre that are sophisticated, compelling, hard-hitting, and relevant.

Inevitably, the final performances, no longer than fifteen minutes in length, make for a powerful theatrical experience. At the conclusion of each piece, with courage, vulnerability, and conviction, students stand before their audience soliciting feedback,  facilitating discussion and justifying their artistic choices.

As a theatre educator, it doesn't get any better than this. You cannot teach this in a book or lecture on this in a class.  In the post -performance discussion, you witness the birth of the next generation of theatre makers. Through the subjects students choose to tackle, you get a glimpse into what matters to them.  Most importantly, you empowered students to creatively express themselves through theatre.

This is Theatre on Purpose at its best.

A Fiddler on the Roof

     After a recent read-through of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, I asked my cast of high school students to unpack the title. For those of us familiar with the musical based on the Shalom Alechem's stories, this may seem like an overly simplistic, obvious question. But for a group of teenagers, the majority of whom had never read the script nor given any thought to the meaning of the story, this question evoked insightful dialogue and responses.
     My first encounter with FIDDLER was as a twelve-year-old 7th grader when I was cast as one of Tevye's younger daughters, Shprintze. At that time, I was far more caught up in the blossoming romance between the characters of Perchik and Hodel than considering the potent story and themes of the generational erosion of custom and tradition embodied in Tevye's struggle to balance tradition with his love for his daughters who, one by one, challenge his beliefs.
I was practically ignorant of the historical context of the play and the weight of oppression under which the villagers of Anatevka lived.
     But my students are living in a time when the highly visible plight of modern refugees permeates the media and spurs both moral and political discussion. FIDDLER ON THE ROOF is arguably as relevant today as at any other time in its musical theatre history. The opportunity for students to delve in to its rich, textured, and human story against the backdrop of a dictatorial, prejudicial regime is Theatre on Purpose.
     Always at risk of falling off that roof, the fiddler represents the constant striving to maintain the shaky balance of tradition and progress. It is complicated. It is generational. It is universal.
     FIDDLER ON THE ROOF does many things, but above all, it uses theatre to tell a story that reaches in to our hearts and causes us to examine the rooftops on which we all perch.
"It is dangerous," one student said. "There is always a risk of falling off that roof, " said another.
     While breaking with tradition is the common through-line of the story, tradition's role and importance to cultural identity provokes an interesting point of view not often considered by high school students.  As Tevye says, "Because of our traditions, everyone knows who he is, and what God expects him to do." This blind, unquestioning obedience to customs passed down through the generations is upended throughout the story of Tevye's daughters. But for a teenager in 2017, the story provides a window in to their own attitudes and beliefs. The answer, as I usually discover, is less important than the process of questioning. "How did you come to know what you know? Why do you believe what you believe?"  Through critical analysis, one may end up even more committed to one's beliefs or driven to  redefine them in light of greater depth and insight as a result of daring to ask the question.
     At the end of the play, as the villagers of Anatevka disperse to lands unknown, driven out  by "an edict from the authorities," Tevye turns and gestures to the questioning, seemingly abandoned fiddler, to come with them.  This poignant moment is filled with meaning. While things change due to circumstances completely out of our control, that which is important to us remains. There is a  dignity  to the moment.
     When I consider the countless refugees who have been forced to leave their homes and those who have  fled the  political or religious oppression of brutal, murderous regimes, my heart aches. We take for granted the safety and security of our homes. How many of us, like Golde, in one final, pride-filled act, would sweep the floor, so not to "leave a dirty house."
     FIDDLER ON THE ROOF is full of educational theatre lessons. It is an important work that connects us to our common humanity, while forcing us to look squarely in the face of prejudice, provoking us to consider the precarious edge of our own teetering.