Defense of the Dark Arts: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Imagination

As the dog-days of summer arrive we are assured of several things, mosquitoes, heat-index warnings, summer blockbuster movies and the arrival of the seventh and alleged last installment of the famed Harry Potter series by author J. K Rowling. What would summers be without good movies to envelope us in the dark and cool auditoriums, our shoes squishing and squeaking over the remnants of popcorn and soda; or our local bookstores hosting midnight release parties and events surrounding the wizarding world of Rowling’s imagination? It’s a rhetorical question I’m asking because we all know what it would be like—unimaginative, with our brains languishing in the summer heat falling into a stupor with only the humming of the crickets or cicada (for those in the south) to lull our flagging humors.

This is an extraordinary aligning of events—the aforementioned movie and book releases. And as my inner-child began to fidget with excitement, I went back and reread the last five chapters or so of the Order of the Phoenix and pulled another waiting book off my shelf at home—Breaking the Magic Spell-Radical Theories of Folk and Fairy Tales by Jack Zipes, noted scholar on folk and fairy tales and someone whose opinions I quite admire. But after reading his essay from his new revised edition from 2002 entitled, “The Radical Morality of Rats, Fairies, Wizards & Ogres: Taking Children’s Literature Seriously,” I felt that I had something to say since part of this essay related to the Harry Potter franchise.

In his essay exploring in more detail the modern fantasy writer, Zipes cites examples from writers that he feels exemplifies the best in fantasy writing for young audiences. He summarizes for his readers the points that he make from another book of his Sticks and Stones identifying attributes of children’s literature all of which are valid, but for this essay, I will touch on just a few. He points out that , “Children’s literature is often class, gender and race specific even when it is not intended to be that way,”. . . That most readers of this genre would fall into, “. . . middle-class white America,” and that, “. . . books are expensive commodities.”

I think I would agree with him up to a point, but since his lens seems to be targeted at U.S. audiences only, it would be important to note that the Harry Potter books alone have been translated into close to 10 languages globally reaching untold numbers of ethnic groups.

He notes that, “To read critically and imaginatively is a long and arduous process, and though a child can be turned on to reading through one book or a series of books, the child will not automatically become and remain a good reader. What is a good reader anyway? Isn’t a good reader someone who learns to question what she/he reads instead of buying into it without reflecting on what she/he is buying and reading?”

Within the context of his essay, it sounds like he might mean to lay waste to the credibility of the Harry Potter franchise and even at the end of the essay, it is clear that he is dubious to the merits of the series or their place in the canon of great works for young audiences. I take issue with this for several reasons but primarily because it is clear that children do reflect on the nature of the story of the young boy that doesn’t fit in and is forced into a world or a situation that is foreign to him and not of his choosing—or the young bookish girl that is vilified by her peers for being too smart—or the son of a family that is considered “less-than” by others even though their familial unit is the epitome of wholesome, nurturing and loving life that many children yearn for. Their reflection and understanding that the world of Harry Potter is imagination and not real is clear, however appealing and exciting it may seem. We need only examine the efforts by the Christian Conservative organizations and other orthodox religious groups that gleefully mount their soap boxes to lecture the public as to the satanic messages found in the wizarding world and how the books will indoctrinate our children into a life of moral decline and devil-worship while off to the side can be found a group of young children who will merely roll their eyes and giggle to themselves at the silly adults who don’t ever seem to ‘get it’. They know. As do all the other sensible adults, parents and educators that these books, as do all of the great and wonderful works of folk tale, fairy tale and fantasy literature, give us metaphoric lessons about life, the human condition and ourselves. It’s really that simple.

Books are expensive, and the Harry Potter books with the exception of the first two, have been veritable tomes. If children wish their parents to buy them in hardback, the cost could range anywhere from $15.00 to the list price at some of the smaller independent bookstores, but even these businesses will often take a hit financially to get their customers in. Sure, they know that by doing this perhaps the parent or guardian will walk out with something for themselves, but they also know that they are building a base of repeat customers.

It was so exciting to see children buying the fourth book Goblet of Fire. I remember vividly their saucer shaped eyes as they would lift the largest book to date in the series. But these children would begin reading before they were even out of the stores. Some were just sitting and reading on the floor of the bookstores. It’s not every book that can garner this kind of excitement.

Zipes also gives his opinion regarding the evaluation of children’s literature as “Indicat[ing] no more and no less that certain markets and elite groups in America have determined that particular books are worth reading, and they have successfully marketed their products.” One of Zipes’ ongoing gripes with children’s literature is its commodification. This is certainly true and the Harry Potter books are a good example of this, but the end result, justifies the means, meaning that if you can get children to read and get them excited about reading, then it becomes increasingly easier to engage them in further reading. Maybe I’m wrong in this assumption and perhaps Zipes is correct, but that becomes a larger discussion to be had at another time.

The caveat to this argument though is that even books that have been awarded The Newberry which is this countries most prestigious award for children’s literature; these books are often denigrated by the Conservatives and even banned from some libraries. The most recent case being the uproar over the use of the anatomically correct term “scrotum” on the first page of The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron this year’s Newberry Winner. Not only were parents outraged, but sadly, even some librarians felt the need to censor the book either of their own volition or from threats from their administrations or PTAs. This is a sad tragic state of affairs and one that needs to be addressed. Censorship and our children is a prickly issue that will no doubt continue but a cautionary tale that bares further examination. Perhaps we should throw Ms. Patron’s book onto the fire with all the Potter books? Or perhaps those of us, who really care, should buy extra copies and donate to libraries and schools that can’t justify to buy them for reasons mentioned above.

Zipes wrote his essay in 2002. At the time of the printing of the book, only four of the Harry Potter series had been published. The essay examines the Potter franchise but also compares it to writers and works that he feels are far superior—Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials, William Steig author of the Shrek books; Donna Jo Napoli that writes modern interpretations of classic folk and fairy tales and Francesca Lia Block writing contemporary fairy tales for teenagers. Of these, I am only familiar with a few, Pullman chief among them. And even though I agree that Pullman’s books are far more complex theoretically and thematically, I also feel that Rowling’s series will ultimately achieve a far greater place in the overall pantheon of children’s literature. As did the Tolkien books that were initially perceived as somewhat less than adequate when first published; they have since achieved a mythic status.

Zipes criticizes Rowling’s books (1-4) because the characters and events, “remain basically the same and repeat the actions and gestures in novel after novel.” He criticizes her treatment of evil as simplistic in this day and age. But knowing that only the first four books had been written, I wonder how Zipes will examine the overall journey of the young boy marked by fate to destroy the evil Voldemort or be destroyed himself. It is ultimately a hero’s journey in the style of Joseph Campbell. Not only does Harry grapple with the idea of vengeance, but what he must ultimately face within himself—the potential for evil. What will be revealed in the final book will undoubtedly show not only the young readers, but Rowling’s critics like Zipes that Harry’s journey may lead to the ultimate sacrifice of either himself or someone he loves. There were critics of Disney’s The Lion King when Simba’s Father was killed. Some parents felt that the images and manner of his death were too scary and too shocking for young children. The real truth is that we lived in a completely benign society. Until the Oklahoma City bombing and then the attacks on the World Trace Center in 2001 we spent the majority of our time looking through life through rose colored glasses. We sheltered ourselves and our children (and I will boldly state here that I am referring to white middle-class America) from grief, poverty, death and disease. The fact that Disney showed the death of Simba’s Father was an event that would shape the young cub to become a responsible brave adult. We can only hope that the outcome of the seventh and final Potter book will do the same without a hint of rose-colored glasses. Without anthropomorphized animal characters, the record of Harry’s epic discovery of self-identity becomes even more tangible to young readers. Visually, the film treatments have showed this as they become darker not only in their storylines, but also in the visual world of the art direction.

The books have become increasingly dark, with the stakes rising ever faster. The loss of major characters such as Harry’s Godfather Sirius Black; the death of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of Severus Snape have all lead the audience on an ever-increasing tension filled, emotional rollercoaster. I envy the young reader experiencing these books for the first time. As an adult, the effects and emotional responses resonate on a very different frequency.

I am eager to see the film, and will eagerly await the arrival of my copy of the last book. I will, like so many others, open the front cover with a bit of trepidation. After the emotional blow of the death of Dumbledore, and the rampant rumors of at least two characters dying in the last book, I enter the wizarding world with a sense of dread . . . and a sense of hope. It is this hope that drives the characters. A “fool’s hope” as Dumbledore might call it. But J. K. Rowling has given our contemporary children an iconic symbol of three young people who must grow, struggle and ultimately make decisions that will change their world forever. But they do this in their struggle for good.

Therein lies the hope and the lesson to be had—the ability for an individual, and in this case a young boy as protagonist, to lead by example facing his fears and playing a part in restoring balance in the world. The great mythic characters from literature and film of the past century have done no less—Frodo, The Pevensie children, et.al., Luke Skywalker, Lyra, Harry Potter among others. Let’s hope that authors keep writing these stories. The journey is part of the growing.

Magic In The Hands of Masters

This post had inadvertently been misplaced. I felt I wanted to post it even though it was originally written in January 2007.

I have spent a considerable amount of time in my own career and certainly through this platform exploring and questioning genres of magic and themes that have, at their core, elements of magic and/or magic realism. It is perhaps because I spent my childhood years reading stories from the classic literary canon of children’s literature—works by Andersen, Grimm, Grahame, Tolkien and contemporary writers such as McCaffrey, Asimov, LeGuin, Cooper among others. It is this element of magic, of the dark mysterious unknown that draws me to these stories. It is this mystery that often compels a second read or tenth. And it is what intrigues me when a theatre company geared for children and families decides to commission and produce a large scale production that deals with magic in a society that spends an inordinate amount of time kowtowing to religious conservative organizations and political action committees bent on re-writing history and obliterating the marvel that is the childhood imagination.

In the recent production by Seattle Children’s Theatre, Linda Hartzell weaves a magical spell with her theatre’s premiere of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice—by playwright OyamO with music by Carman Moore. In brief, the story follows a young boy, Charles as he struggles to find acceptance and a place in his world. He wanders into a magical forest with talking flora and fauna to the garden of the Sorceress Marguerite. He asks for a job as her apprentice and with considerable persuasion is given three chores/chances to prove himself. Marguerite warns though that if he disappoints her, even once, that she will send Charles packing. Charles accepts this challenge, but because he is a head-strong young boy with ambition and attitude in abundance, his greed and arrogance begin to get the better of him. He is tricked by Jeremy Groundhog into pulling up spinach rather than weeds in the garden. He is tricked by the minions of Big John King, an evil sorcerer bent on stealing Marguerite’s magic—failing to deliver special herbs as directed by Marguerite. And in a final task to clean Marguerite’s magic chamber, Charles’ curiosity gets the better of him and he tries to use his untrained magic. The result is a magical deluge of streaming water from many sources within the room. Marguerite enters in the nick-of-time and puts all to rights. In her anger and disappointment she tells Charles to leave.

In his anger, Charles falls under the influence of Big John King. He agrees to switch out the magic stone in Marguerite’s turban that will weaken and diminish her power thus giving Big John the upper hand to rule over the magic forrest and land. Marguerite places the turban on her head unaware that Charles has snuck into her chamber to make the switch. Her powers falter and Big John makes his move in a battle of magic between the two sorcerers. At the last moment when it looks like Marguerite will fail in her struggle to defeat her enemy, Charles reenters and takes responsibility for his actions by finding the strength and his own magic to save Marguerite and defeat Big John King. Marguerite sees that Charles has taken a very important step in becoming a more responsible individual and appoints Charles as her official Apprentice.

In the usual high standards of the Seattle Children’s Theatre, this new production is a feast for the eyes and for the most part ears of its young audience and their families.
The designs, both scenic and costumes are by the designers who brought last season’s production of Sleeping Beauty to life—Carey Wong and Catherine Hunt respectively.
The set design is very similar to Sleeping Beauty and seemed to utilize many of the larger scenic elements such as the tracking “inner-stage” and several rolling pieces. What I love about Mr. Wong’s designs is his attention to detail—cut drops, flown pieces and the meticulous care in the props all help to create a visually stunning world. The same can be said for the imaginative costumes that, even from the back of the house where I was sitting, were obviously of great complexity utilizing many tricks of the costume technology trade with elaborate headpieces, built in armatures and wonderful use of textural and patterned fabrics. There is always a richness to the magical productions helmed by Ms. Hartzel. Kudos too to the lighting team for creating atmospheric lighting as well as the vibrant scenes that included musical numbers with movement and choreography. The lighting was also a great asset to the magic effects used throughout the production.

The music was some of the best that I have heard from SCT premiere productions of late. There was a cohesion to the music by composer Carman Moore influenced by southern jazz, Cajun, Caribbean and Latin Rhythms that really helped to solidify the unexpected setting of this fanciful tale in what appeared to by Louisiana or perhaps Mississippi. There was bit of an anachronism with some of the dialogue coupled with the undefined time period, music, and the designs but it didn’t hurt the overall production or hinder the creativity of the production team.

As usual, this public performance was nearly filled a week before the end of the run. I would estimate that the house was at seventy per-cent occupancy plus or minus. After a series of performance cancellation due to the very strange winter weather we had been having in the Pacific Northwest this past winter, I wondered how this figured into this particular performance’s attendance numbers, but the crowd was enthusiastic, filled with children anxious to find just the right seat. I always enjoy listening to the children as they shuttle past me down the aisles as they discuss with their friends, siblings or parental units the pros and cons of locations. The children that have attended regularly will undoubtedly quip that the seats they had for ‘such and such’ were much better than the ones they had for ‘this or that.’ SCT employs festival seating with the center section designated as “A” and the two side audience sections designated as “B.” Beyond that, it is the responsibility of the patron to sit in their appropriate sections. I heard at least a handful of children correcting their adult counterparts as to the “correct” section that they must sit. Allowing their younger patrons to learn the value of honesty and responsibility in such a simple way can not be underestimated. If only the adults could learn by the example set by the children it would be a wonderful experience for all.

I hope the reader will forgive me when I get on my soap box to lament the common sense of decency that parents of toddlers and babes in arms seem to be guilty of when attending the theatre. I have seen it countless times—a parent that allows a toddler to slink out of their laps to then go traipsing up and down the aisles with the inevitable parent trying, as unobtrusively as possible, to corral the child back into their arms to then return to their seats to then have the whole sequence repeat itself. At this particular performance, a woman fitting the description above, sitting in the front row of the house- left section of the audience spent the whole first act of the play trying to restrain a young toddler completely oblivious to the action onstage. What this did for me and I’m assuming the several hundred people who were sitting behind her, was to provide an unforgivable distraction to what would have been a very well-mannered audience. To his credit, the House Manager did slide in through a side door to ask her to keep the child in her seat after managing to wander onto one of the far downstage right playing spaces.

As someone with an extensive background in theatre, it amazes me that people still think that this behavior is acceptable. To think that the performers can’t see you might seem plausible especially with certain lighting, etc. but to just assume this as a blanket truth needs to STOP! The actors CAN see you; they CAN hear you and your talking, and cell phone ringing and candy wrapper twisting. And guess what? The audience CAN hear and see you too! We see the announcements at the beginnings of films as slides or moving images—some are even crafted now to dupe the audience initially into thinking they are watching a movie trailer. As the young protagonist from The Sorcerer’s Apprentice would say, “Golly-gee something!.” Is this really necessary?! Shouldn’t we all know better as adults?! Common manners, courtesy and decency is a learned behavior; taught by example.

Getting back to my initial thesis pondering how a professional theatre would choose repeatedly to produce plays dealing with magic; Seattle Children’s Theatre should be applauded not only for its quality product, but for its unflinching courage in producing plays that do not shy away from the wonder of magic and its place in the intellect and imagination of young people. I would say that Seattle is a very sensible community unwavering in its, dare I say it, liberal pragmatism. But I fear that even here in Western Washington the cloud of social and intellectual conservatism has shadowed somewhat of late the freedom that has been taken for granted for far too long. I’m hearing now every other day about yet another school board that is questioning and black-listing Al Gore’s documentary An Inconvenient Truth. Will the libraries, the theatres and the other avenues of humanistic education be next? Until then, we must support in any way we can those organizations that carry on the good work and the struggle to keep the wonder, imagination and innocence of childhood alive and healthy.

Goodnight Moon

“If you can conceive it, you can achieve it!”

With the world-premiere of Goodnight Moon, Seattle Children’s Theatre has proven this theorem by creating one of the most delightful and charming theatrical experiences in recent memory. Based on the beloved children’s book written sixty years ago by Margaret Wise Brown with pictures by Clement Hurd; Linda Hartzell’s team of creative wizards have succeeded in capturing all the charm and magic that has captured the imagination of several generations of children. With script, music and lyrics penned by long-time SCT collaborator Chad Henry, this new adaptation should have a life and success beyond the premiere at least as long as the book itself if not longer.

The magic at the heart of this gentle little story is the innocent imagination of the little bunny that sleeps in the green room that is his nursery. One of the charming devices of Margaret Brown’s books for children is her device of making the protagonist and many of the other characters animals. The SCT production honors this device using four actors to portray or manipulate the characters or puppets respectively. The costumes by Linda Ross subtly represent each of the animals while not becoming cliché animal costumes allowing the smaller children in the audience to fully utilize their imagination to “conceive” each of these characters.

And that is what is truly remarkable about the production—the extent to which the young audience is asked to journey with the bunny into his imagination. I attended a weekday matinee that was filled with parents and children ranging in age from pre-K through upper elementary. The production played in SCT’s Eve Alvord Theatre that is the smaller of their two venues seating 275 on comfortable raked bench seating. The stage is very small at forty feet wide and twenty-two feet deep. With a full boxed set like the one for Goodnight Moon, the playing space is reduced even more.

As mentioned earlier, the scenic design by Jennifer Lupton takes the simple illustrations by Clement Hurd and places it in three dimensions right before the audience in this very intimate setting. The magic and imagination of the design team is revealed in stages throughout the production. It seems clear to me that the team used the illustrations as a spring board as to how they might create a full length musical from a book with so little text. Literally every element of the design is either used or manipulated by the actors or offstage puppeteers. The pictures in the little bunny’s room reveal inner stages where puppets interact with the performers onstage. The moon and stars appear, disappear and move within the large picture windows upstage. The mantle clock and urns dance and move. The stuffed toys are manipulated by actors and the mouse and cats that inhabit the bunny’s playroom are simple puppets that are manipulated by the performers not unlike the way in which children play at dolls or with their stuffed animals when left to their own imaginations.

I have seen numerous productions now that have utilized puppets created by Doug Paasch for SCT productions; puppets ranging in complexity from the magical over-sized Dragon in The Magic City to an amazing giant spider in last season’s production of Sleeping Beauty to this production where simple stuffed rag dolls and animals create a touching and lyrical vignette with only a simple lullaby sung by the actors who simultaneously manipulate the soft toys. This moment came almost at the very end of the performance and even though it seemed to be the major wiggle spot for the smaller children, the older children and adults were mesmerized by the hypnotic quality. I certainly understand why it falls where it does in the script leading to the final denouement of the story, but I fear that it will cause the vignette/song to be perceived as a false ending. I also wonder how the moments with no dialogue will end up on the page once the script is published (and there is no doubt that it will.)

As to the script itself, the story, as fleshed out by Chad Henry moves along at a nice pace with approximately 12-15 songs spaced evenly throughout. The musical numbers, ranging from soft beautiful lullabies to Jolson-esque soft-shoe to jazzy rag and to a rousing tap section with the Three Bears; allow the story to move along while adding not only to the imagination of the Bunny, but to the young members of the audience. From the moment where the primary characters are introduced—Bunny, Mouse, two Cats and the Old Woman-that-says-“Shhhh,” the audience is clearly meant to associate with Bunny and his unwillingness to go to sleep. As anyone who has children or remembers their own childhood, no matter how long ago; the universal truth regarding a child’s unwillingness to shut their eyes and go to sleep will resonate strongly. The humor of the Little Bunny as he tries valiantly to keep the covers over him, to struggle with a pillow that has a life of its own, to talking in imaginary gibberish with his ever-present Red Balloon, the pathos, sight-gags and intricate puppetry all serve to enhance rather than distract from the momentum of the story such as it is.

There are not many theatres that can pull off such extraordinary feats of magic with such ease, and the resources of SCT—the designers, the shops and their artisans deserve high praise for creating this delightful masterwork. A few of the highlights of this production include a black-light soft shoe number within one of the picture windows where the audience sees only a pair of white feet and white hands in the “Mr. Nobody” song reminiscent of “Mr. Celophane” from the musical Chicago; the three musical numbers with the ensemble portraying members of a circus supporting the puppet-show of Clarabelle the Cow as she attempts to jump over the moon; a very delightful number “Never Get Away” featuring Bunny and Ensemble in front of a giant book that is pulled out of the wall that becomes the backdrop for the song. This section pays homage to other books by Margaret Brown and Clement Hurd such as Runaway Bunny with pages that are turned by the performers, each becoming a backdrop for the verses of the song. And as I mentioned earlier there were several humorous and touching vignettes with Bunny interacting with magical sight-gags or simple puppet moments that were pure theatre magic.

I had been eager to see this production as reviews had been pouring in from sources all around the Seattle metropolitan area heaping high praise onto this new production. Knowing the book and its illustrations, I was eager to see just how successful the show could be. The burden of proof is heavy when your audience-goer works not only as a freelance artist in the field of theatre for young audiences, but as a professional freelance designer as well. I am delighted to add my own praise to this production and offer a heart-felt thank you to the production’s director, Linda Hartzell and to her incomparable artistic team, technicians and performers—you have validated yet again the importance of our field and affirmed for me why I continue to be a passionate advocate for the highest quality work for children and families.

Goodnight Moon continued its run through March 10^th, 2007 at Seattle Children’s Theatre.