So, we at The Pearl are on a mission . . .

The Pearl Theatre maintains a fantastic Arts-in-Education program: Classics in the Classroom. This program (under the direction of Pearl Resident Actor Carol Schultz) works to make the world of classical theatre accessible and engaging to students from across the city—students who might never have seen Shakespeare or Molière performed before. Students work with our Resident Acting Company in the classroom, attend Pearl productions, and talk with the actors after the show. Classics in the Classroom has been a crucial part of The Pearl’s programming for over a decade—and we have big plans for its future!

As a step towards funding and supporting those plans we are thrilled to announce the birth of the 2010 “Classically Trained” Pearl Theatre Company Half-Marathon Team!

Spearheaded by the indefatigable Sarah Wozniak (The Pearl’s Artistic Administrator and unofficial baker) and the fabulous Niki Hernandez-Adams (Pearl Costume Shop Manager and owner of the cutest dog on the planet) The Pearl team will run/walk/skip/saunter its way through the NYC Half-Marathon on Sunday, March 21, 20010, and work to raise donations for Classics in the Classroom.

Would you like to join us?  Would you like to run?  Or just help raise donations for “Classically Trained”?  Or perhaps you yourself would like to donate to our Classics in the Classroom program?  Click here for details, or contact Sarah Wozniak at swozniak@pearltheatre.org

And as a taste of the fun times and great company that await you if you join our running team, here’s a little report from Sarah on her first steps (no pun intended) into the running universe . . .

Oooh! Shiny! Sarah Wozniak and her runnin' shoes.

I am not a runner.  I feel I should clarify this before anyone gets the wrong impression of The Pearl’s half-marathon aspirations.  With the exception of a misguided attempt at a half-marathon during college (I’m an “athlete” the way George Plimpton was a “quarterback”), I’ve always felt more able in the artistic arena than the sporting arena—particularly when it comes running.  I’m about as graceful as Baby Huey and built not all-too-dissimilarly.

That being said, I’m sure a lot of people would have the opposite boast.  Theatre can seem daunting, foreign, or just plain boring if you haven’t developed that muscle group.  But the beauty of running—and of dramatic arts—is that if you keep an open mind, you’ll be surprised how affected and inspired you can be, even if you think it simply isn’t your cup of tea.

It’s that realization that prompted The Pearls to form our “Classically Trained” running group and tackle the New York City Half-Marathon on March 21, 2010.  We plan to run in the community we serve as artists and educators with our Arts in Education Classics in the Classroom program.  Just as we strive to open a world of imagination and artistry with our students, we’re striving to open a world of tempo-runs and health to ourselves (not to mention opening the eyes of New York to the wonderful things our students can and are doing).

Gary Levinson (Production and Facilities Manager) ponders his options . . .

Our first stop was the New York Running Company at Columbus Circle to acquire the foundation of any runner: SHOES!  After an Imelda Marcos meltdown when I witnessed all the varieties from which I could choose, Niki Hernandez-Adams (Pearl Costume Shop Manager), Gary Levinson (Production Manager & Technical Director) and I prepared for our individual consultations to pick the perfect footwear.

What struck me first was the new physical vocabulary we had to learn just about the way we moved.  In the way that our actors become very aware of their posture the first time they don a corset or modify their gait once a walking stick is in their hands, I was learning a whole new way to externally evaluate and describe the way I ran.  Words like “supination” and “pronation” were introduced, and they jarred me just the way terms like “periaktoi” and “dramaturgy” did when I first heard them.  Running, it seemed, was just like any introduction to a new art—fascinating, terrifying, confusing and exhilarating.

(Left to right) Gary, Sarah, and Niki Hernandez-Adams (Costume Shop Manager) Cinderella their way through the store.

I tried on shoes like they were going out of style.  Neon yellow and subtle blues, cushioned heels, stabilizing ankles, supportive arches all molded (or in some cases, painfully did not mold) to my feet and it shocked me how differently I stood, jogged, even breathed.  It was as if each shoe choice was like a character choice.  Though subtle variations in construct, the effects were startling different; some made me cry (in pain) or giggle, left me dejected or buoyant.  I realized we’d stumbled into territory that though different in name was incredibly similar to the terrain I knew only too well.  Running was an art, and I was becoming an eager participant.

Susan Levinson thinks Sarah's shoes are awesome! Gary's still thinking it over . . .

Happily, we each found shoes that made our hearts sing (and our knees sigh in relief) and have started hitting the pavement.  There will be more updates on our road to the big race, so be on the look-out.  And if you see a woman, vaguely resembling Baby Huey, huffing and puffing along the Williamsburg Bridge, think of giving to The Pearl’s Arts in Education program.  Our productions and our programs are superb, even if my athletic form leaves something to be desired.

Writing about George Bernard Shaw is not good for the ego.

Think about it—in the process of producing Shaw, a theatre company covers countless pages and spills buckets of ink extolling his indefatigable wit, his incisive humor, his enduring relevance, his unique world view, and his sprawling artistic vision.

Then, flipping casually through Shaw’s works, you come across:

Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.

Succinct, cheerful, and with his trademark blend of self-satisfaction and deprecation; how can we possibly compete with someone who can dash off something like this:

We should all be obliged to appear before a board every five years and justify our existence… on pain of liquidation.

or this:

Democracy is a device that ensures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.

or, one of my personal favorites:

Dancing is a perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire.

The fact is Wit is a game at which this playwright will always beat us. And Shaw knew it. He went so far as to submit interviews to newspapers in which he was both interviewer and interviewee—Shaw set up “Shaw” as his own best commentator. And so the rest of us poor mortals have to muddle through as best we can.

That’s why I envy our actors. Watching last night’s dress rehearsal of Misalliance, I couldn’t help thinking how much fun it must be to be able to “show” rather than to “tell” Shaw’s world—to shoot off these intellectual firecrackers one after the other secure in the knowledge that there isn’t a single dud in the group. From the moment Bentley Summerhays skips onstage demanding to discus something “intellectual” in the first scene, the verbal pyrotechnics never cease—never even slow down—until the lights go down on our deliriously drained Shavian family. It’s thrilling to watch this play (which will be celebrating its 100th birthday in a few short months!) not coming but “exploding” to life in the hands of this incredible cast and director.

Our very first performance of Misalliance starts in about . . . three hours. We can’t wait to share it with you!