New Vaudevillians

One thing that has struck me in this experience is that TYA (Theater for Young Audiences) tours are in a sense the new vaudeville. Perhaps my brush a year ago with a George M Cohan show is still "clouding my vision," but I've so far seen a number of interesting parallels so far, many of which are specifically applicable to the circumstances under which we find ourselves.

Vaudeville, for those who aren't quite as savvy, was the popular variety art form from the late 1800s to around the depression. There were different circuits played by different ranks of performers, each of whom were perfecting, or had perfected, a short act of some ilk. Jugglers performed next to dramatic scenes, which were followed by dog tricks and tap dancers. A vaudeville show was fast, and was meant to offer something for everyone. As it grew, theaters were built across the country specifically to house this new art form, which played a few times in a day, and then packed up and moved on. Producers scouted acts carefully, and a good act was gold, both for the producer and the performer. And, more importantly, it is the place where many of the great musical theater artists got their start. Cohan, of course, but also people like Donald O'Connor, Bert Williams, The Three Stooges, Charlie Chaplin and Bob Hope. And, naturally, everyone was looking to "play the Palace," a theater that still stands on Broadway (currently housing Legally Blonde - The Musical, but who's counting?)

That sounds kinda like what we're doing. We're a bunch of 20-somethings, most of us just starting our careers, trying to earn our stripes as actors/singers/dancers. We've got a 49 minute show, with a few jokes thrown in for everyone, that we cart around (on our own), performing a few times in one day and then heading off to the next town. It's a form of entertainment to grow on, both for us as artists and for our audience of Pre K - 3rd graders. And, clearly, most of us are looking to use this experience to catapult closer to the "Palace" (actually, I know at least two people who have already picked out their parts in Legally Blonde). And, perhaps most convincingly, we keep playing old vaudeville houses, which is perhaps the most tangible and coolest link to the past.

I like this connection. It makes the hard days feel easier, and the easy days feel great. And, when I question just how valid getting dressed up in a gorilla suit is, it brings me back. It grounds me in a way. And there is one thing I've found most compelling. Cohan wrote in his auto-brag-ography, "When you're living out a trunk, when home is a succession of hotels and boarding houses in one strange city after another, your family becomes your only constant, your only security in a hard world." George was a little dramatic at times, but there is an element of truth to his words. When we're out (and even when every day begins at 4am), the constants are the people. And, disfunctions aside, you gotta find a way to love everyone you're with. Which is something we're doing. And I, at least, am proud of that.



Kid quote of the day: At one point, Ruby demonstrates for Max how princes ride horses. She trots across the stage and clicks her tongue to simulate a horse trotting. During this show, we were losing the kids, so Ruby asked the audience, point-blank, "Can you all help me show Max how princes ride horses?" And, en masse, the entire audience clicked their tongues.

Call tomorrow: 6:30am, Manhattan Garage near Columbia. Hell week is almost over...