Danish Delights

So, Denmark is apparently the place to be if you want to make some children's theatre and have the government pay you to do it. The country has a smaller population than NYC and they have 120 children's theatres that are awarded over 25 million dollars a year in subsidies. That's right. You read correctly. 25 million dollars. That's equivalent to a fifth of the entire NEA budget here at home. Just for the kiddies.

I got to see some of the fruits of these subsidies this week at the Danish Festival and Symposium of Children's Theatre, hosted by my company. There is little I can say that could overstate the fabulousness of these shows. They are complex, abstract, fascinating and completely mesmerizing for the young folks in the audience. Puppets. Hidden doors. Magical lights and sounds that bring an empty dinner table to life. And evil bunnies. I feel very much like I might need to run away to Denmark.

This whole festival has got me thinking about what, besides $25,000,000, it takes to make good theatre for kids. It takes some time, I suppose, and a lot of vision. And a sense of play. One of the artists at the Symposium today said "We don't worry about story. The story will come. We just play and try to make theatre that is like a hymn, celebrating all the things in life." Sign me up. I've started to have visions of puppets that I want to make, never mind that I have next to none of the technical skills needed. I am sometimes frustrated by being surrounded by artists all the time, and calling myself an artist, and yet making very little art. Some of the questions I have about my ability to make art, however, are:

• Where would I work?
• Who would I work with?
• Where would I perform?
• Who would come?

This doesn't seem like a problem in Denmark. They just get a great idea, apply for an enormous grant, and then spend a year and a half working and developing a 40 minute show. And then the audience just...appears...

I think I want to work on a solo show. That way I can at least answer the first two of my questions with "in my apartment" and "myself." Like so much else in my life, however, I find it difficult to begin work on anything until it is necessary. Until there is a goal. A deadline. An opening night. The Danes didn't understand us today when we talked about repertory programming, six week rehearsal schedules, pre-existing scripts, and auditions. As far as they are concerned, if you want to do something you just do it, take as long as necessary, and then figure out from there where your art will actually be seen. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?

I guess that I am attempting to make some art right now if you count my thesis project. Two weeks ago, however, the young people informed me that they are completely unwilling to do a play and present any of the tumultuous work they had accomplished, so our performance next week will simply be some freestyle dancing. I'm less than inspired by the process and the final product, but at least I can say with conviction that it is completely from the kids' own desires and energy, not mine. And I'm trying to remember that this is the whole point of community-based art. I am done, done, DONE with after-school directing. Despite my best intentions it always ends in heartbreak.

So maybe the solo work is the way to go. I think I'm going to create a piece about growing grass and fuzzy cats. These are the things I am passionate about at the moment.