Any singer who has ever taken an outreach job quickly discovers one thing: kids are hilarious. Their energy and appetite for imagination creates the ideal audience for performers. I discovered this during the nine months I spent with Shreveport Opera Xpress, the bright creation of Eric Dillner and Susan Yankee.
Dillner, general director of Shreveport Opera, hired me, my baritone husband Phillip, and mezzo Kristin Piefer as his outreach artists for nine months during 2005-6. We sang three children’s operas and a Broadway review—along with comprimario roles, covers, and chorus—for three main-stage shows. Other performances included private parties, Shreveport Opera fund-raisers, club meetings and Mardi Gras balls, but the majority of our job was spent doing outreach. We averaged 10-12 shows a week, reaching more than 60,000 children in schools, libraries, and hospitals. When I think about that number, I see various venues filled with smiling faces, hugs, waves, winks, and especially laughter.
A little boy named Chet, from Apollo Elementary School in Shreveport, La., could not contain his excitement about taking part in our interactive show, Hansel and Gretel. His teacher told us she let the students call their parents the previous week to tell them about the upcoming performance. Chet was bursting with pride as he said, “Mom! I have some wonderful news—I made the opera!” He and 31 of his classmates participated as angels, gingerbread children, and technicians.
With two shows a day, six days a week, hundreds of children “made the opera” by taking part in Humperdinck’s Hansel and Gretel, and two opera adaptations by Susan Yankee, Why Dinosaurs Don’t Smoke and Why Dinosaurs Don’t Litter.
Every show created a magical world for a brief moment in the lives of children and adults alike.
One constant source of magic and brilliant comments came from the glitter the Sandman sprinkled on Hansel and Gretel, and on the children in the front row.
“Now that’s magic!” one boy said.
“I got the glitter!” yelled another darling girl.
In a show for 200 pre-kindergarten kids, several kids saved the glitter from the Sandman in their little hands, and took it back to class, exclaiming to their teachers, “Look! We have the magic stuff!”
As SOX artists, we traveled throughout the Arkansas-Louisiana-Texas area, including almost every elementary school in Louisiana’s Shreveport and Bossier City. Most of these schools are very poor, and teachers often told us this was the first time their students had ever seen a live performance. On occasion, kids would recognize us around town and say with a huge smile, “I know you. You came to my school!” Then they would act out their favorite part, and remind us what parts we played.
Dillner and the opera board members take good care of the SOX artists. We were treated to several meals, and a fabulous doctor got us free gym memberships at a local Wellness Center. That gift was one of the best gifts I have ever received. Escaping into a yoga or Pilates class at the end of each long day revitalized my mind, body and spirit.
Much of the funding for SOX is provided by grants written by Shreveport Opera, community foundations and various art councils. We offered two types of performances: interactive and non-interactive. For non-interactive shows, we showed up, set up, performed, answered questions, did the take down, and traveled to another school to repeat the process. The interactive show allowed 32 children to join us in a full day of rehearsal and performance. The morning was spent in a music and theater workshop, singing, learning stage directions, handing out costumes, and running the show. The children performed for their parents and classmates in the afternoon.
Because singers love to talk about themselves, we always enjoyed the question-and-answer session following each show. After introducing ourselves and our home towns, we opened the floor for questions. Sometimes kids would notice Phillip and I have the same last name and say things like, “Y’all go together?” Because our three-man Hansel and Gretel, has the baritone singing Hansel, me singing Gretel, and the mezzo singing the mother, the Sandman, and the witch, I would ask, “Do you think we are really brother and sister?” They would scream, “Yes!” and we would say, “No, we are married!” One teenage girl asked, after a Broadway show, “Where did y’all get those dresses? And when did y’all start wearing heels?”
The SOX set was a 10-foot by 20-foot storybook with a different set of pages for each show. In Hansel and Gretel, the page with the gingerbread house had a pocket sewn into the window, where we pre-set candy. Children wanted to keep the candy and were slightly disappointed when they learned that it was not real.
Kids were curious about the pages in our book. One day, while discussing this in front of a crowd of 350 elementary students, we said that the pages were spray painted by a man in New Orleans. A first-grade boy stood up and shouted passionately, “There is something I must tell you: I am from New Orleans!” We all started laughing at his enthusiasm, and then he added, “And I have a new baby sister.”
Children want to let you into their lives. Having the chance to ask a question or make a comment makes them feel connected to the performers and builds their self-esteem. We regularly met students from New Orleans who were evacuated from their homes and were living in Shreveport because of hurricane Katrina and Rita. Their houses were ruined, yet they were so excited to tell us they liked the show, and they had a new baby sister!
Young audiences are not inhibited in any way. They shout out their feelings and emotions on a regular basis. At an after-school shelter, we were doing a performance of Hansel and Gretel. I was getting scared in the forest, calling for my mother. Hansel and I dove for cover in the middle of the stage and a boy shouted, “Oooooooooooooh! Y’all gonna get it now!” Fortunately, our faces were buried in our hands at that point, but our shoulders shaking made it difficult to conceal our laughter. As the witch made her entrance, one little girl screamed, “You’re not real! You’re not real!” At a library show, the librarian said, “We are going to hear the opera Hansel and Gretel,” and a 2-year-old shouted, “We know!”
As Gretel, I crawled in-between rows of children as I tried to escape the witch’s spell. One day a little girl yelled, “Save Gretel! Save Gretel!” (Don’t worry about Hansel—he is up there singing and trying to escape the witch’s rope, but it must be too late for him.)
Another time, as I was wandering through the audience escaping, I sat down in an empty seat, pretending to be a child enjoying the show. The little boy in front of me just kept talking to me, saying, “Hansel is still up there. Aren’t you going to help him escape? Are you one of us now? Will she find you here?” Suddenly the witch pointed to me, and I picked up the boy as an offering to the witch. “AHHHHH!” he said, “I see how it is.” The witch shook her head, implying she only wanted me, and I left, looking longingly at my new friend. He was feeling so cool to have had his moment in the spotlight (and secretly relieved, of course, not to be captured).
My favorite memory of these brave attempts to escape found me hiding next to a 5-year-old girl. I whispered, “Can the witch see me?” She shook her head no, and tickled me under my chin like I was her kitten!
This job has been quite an experience, and one I am thankful to have had fresh out of graduate school. Performing every day, whether I felt like it or not, has given me increased confidence, grounded my vocal technique, and strengthened me as an auditioner. At first, I was worried to leave my teacher for nine months, but I found being on my own reinforced good habits.
Certainly, we had days where we all complained that nine months is just too long for an outreach job. Sometimes the alarm would ring, and the thought of getting out of bed to lift that heavy set and sing at 9 a.m. was extremely unpleasing. On the plus side, however, it is encouraging to have a steady paycheck as a singer.
I felt fortunate to work with a variety of directors, conductors, and singers on the main-stage shows. We took a break from outreach during main stage, so we could attend all rehearsals as covers.
With every performance with SOX, I saw joy in the eyes of children. I wished my nieces and nephews in Idaho could see our shows—not just because Phillip and I were in them, but because they instill a love for opera and theater at an early age.
What is being done in your community to teach children about the art form we all love? Children deserve this worthy service, and we, as artists, sharpen our skills by giving everything we have to such appreciative crowds. When was the last time a room full of people screamed “bravo” for your performance? It is addictive, and time well spent while we wait for those shouts from La Scala.
