Winter with the Rag-Tag Players
My long-time readers will know that I am involved in ACT (a community theatre), having produced Hamlet (2015) and Macbeth (2012) in a local park as well as photographing several shows and coordinating properties for others.
Every year, ACT (a community theatre) co-ordinates the PEI Community Theatre Festival, held in March on or near World Theatre Day. As an active ACT member, for the third year in a row I was asked to photograph the event. This is the first of several Thursday Theatre postings.
Rag-Tag Players are part of the Murphy Community Centre’s programming for youngsters which gets kids not just to act material, but to create it. They created and performed “Dear March…” at the 2016 PEI Community Theatre Festival. It was charming, colourful and the kids were delightful.
There were three parts to the show: a dramatized version of Emily Dickinson’s Dear March (no photos); a mini-play (today’s photos) and a dance (next Theatre Thursday.)
When you are absorbed in getting shots of moving subjects in changing lighting it’s hard to follow the story line. But, I think March – in lavender and purple – was a little hesitant to make an appearance.
Murphy Centre Kids – March contemplates her life.
December, January and February (the ones in white) conspire to help keep her hidden.
Murphy Centre Kids: December to March
The other seasons are concerned about March’s absence and try to figure out what to do.
Murphy Centre Kids – Rag-Tag Players: summer and autumn.
Eventually spring, summer and autumn (who are definitely the ones in orange/red) prevailed and March overcame her shyness. One of the winter characters waves her arms and stamps her feet but because I was laughing I missed the photo of her.
Murphy Centre Kids – March emerges.
Dear March - Come in -
How glad I am -
I hoped for you before -
Put down your Hat -
You must have walked -
How out of Breath you are -
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -
Did you leave Nature well -
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -
I have so much to tell -
I got your Letter, and the Birds -
The Maples never knew that you were coming -
I declare - how Red their Faces grew -
But March, forgive me -
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue -
There was no Purple suitable -
You took it all with you -
Who knocks? That April -
Lock the Door -
Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886