Art and Behavior Psychology

July 18, 2015

I flung the incentive out to our trainees.  If we could all stay focused on the task of the day—rehearsing all of our songs and short performances—we could finish the day early.

For me, this was an unprecedented incentive.  In fact, I am not sure that I’ve ever ended a day early out here, mostly because there are always challenges of some sort that get in the way.  But it seemed worth the attempt.  Afternoons, the stifling hot afternoons of 35 people simultaneously rehearsing in a wooden box with a tin roof, sun hammering away at us, feel brutal.  Focus lags, bodies wilt, energy drains and rehearsals devolve into beg and plead sessions that require wiping away layers of sweat, shaking the malaise from our minds and resetting our purpose.

So, an afternoon off seemed a good incentive.

The day started well.  Or as well as can be expected.  Everyone showed up, not all on time of course, but we take one triumph at a time out here.  We practiced singing as the stragglers came in and then turned our attention to drama practice.  Did they want to practice on their own before sharing their work for me, I asked.  Most certainly, they answered.  So the cacophony of 30 plus voices filled the temperature-rising room as the little kids of the area ran over to once again stare through the open windows at the sight of multiple dramas playing out, both fictional and actual.

Meanwhile, I suffered my own drama.  Afflicted with the travelers’ disease that day, I ran back and forth between buildings embracing a basketball court to try and relieve the waves of intense pain coursing through my intestines.  Not the most memorable way to spend a day rehearsing. Or, perhaps, the most memorable.

Time to formally rehearse the groups.  One at a time they took to the faux stage (a taped out space) and ran through their short, devised plays.  We chatted before they began (What will you focus on in this practice) and listened to their peers after (What were the strongest choices of the group this time?) and chatted again about their future challenges.  In between I sprinted the basketball court in hopes of not missing too much of each of their practices.

The incentive seemed to be working.  Finally, after a lunch break (and a necessary nap for me), we got down to the ‘big’ drama, as we call it. The one devised piece that includes everyone.  As we got ready to start, I met with a few of the trainees to talk about their challenges for this run thru.  One of the girls, who had gotten a little teary eyed the last time we practiced, appeared apprehensive.  Maybe she felt she wasn’t up to the challenge, I thought.  As we talked, she melted.  Teared-up.  We had nothing left to practice that day.  Just that. And we all depended on her.  She wavered.  And we waited. Suddenly it seemed that we weren’t going to meet our incentive.

A subgroup was outside polishing their work as the rest of us prepared.  The girl couldn’t seem to gear herself up.  The outside group came back in.  One of the staff took the girl to the side.  The afternoon malaise started to settle over the other trainees.  So I asked the outside practicers to show us their stuff.  In an almost magical moment, they rose to their own challenge.  The room was very appreciative and excited.  And the girl said, ‘Can I watch a couple of other people show me some ideas?’ Immediately several people volunteered to try out her role for a moment, hoping to inspire her.  They performed. Trainees clapped. She practiced. And quite well, I add.

Okay, on stage!  I shouted.  Everyone gathered.  This is it, I said.  Break the afternoon malaise and we’re done for the day.  One of the trainees gave an impromptu pep talk. And they started.

I’d like to say they rose to the challenge. I’d like to say that girl exceeded her own expectations. I’d like to say the group came together to have a joyous practice as an ensemble.  I’d like to say all of that because it is absolutely true.

When they finished, the room grew very quiet.  I stepped up to their stage as they stared at me, fanning themselves in that ever-growing heat.  And I said the three magical words that have marked this summer training.  ‘That’s the idea.’  The room burst into cheers. And we went home.