The JAMboree!

In the years I attended the Alabama School of Fine Arts (ASFA), we were not allowed to contend against other theatre troupes in competition; the most prestigious competitions were the Trumbauer Festival and the Thespians Festival (the latter of which we also did not have as a student organization). At the time, I suppose, I didn’t question it though I knew others were angry. My suspicion is our teacher didn’t want us picking up bad habits that did not come from her training (she also made it almost impossible to “moonlight” in other local shows. Once I became a drama teacher in Alabama, though, and sent my high school to such competitions, I understood more her reasons. Like most awards and prizes, such competitions are frequently riddled by nepotism. For example, Bob Jones High School won virtually everything during my tenure at Pinson Valley High School. You learn very quickly where you are on the ladder. I want it known for the record, two of my kids won first place in a reader’s theatre scene from Neil Simon’s The Sunshine Boys, but that was the exception and not the rule.

Me, hiding somewhere amongst the judges.

I enjoyed judging both festivals (if you took her group, you had to judge), though. The school names were blind though the world of theatre is so small, I didn’t know how blind it was. But, as for me, it was a new world. I’ll never forget the feeling I had when I got my way and awarded 3rd place in the Solo Female Musical category to a young girl who, when she accepted it, couldn’t have been more floored. But even though she did not act much of the scene, the way she sang “I Dreamed a Dream” made me cry my eyes out. We were split on third place (there were clear winners for 1st and 2nd), but I made my point known and I hope that is something that still shines bright in that young woman’s high school career.

Recently, through my affiliation with Hillside Church in our neighboring town of Dora, I got to judge another, much smaller competition. Sponsored by The Alabama Youth Theatre Experience, all the kids were making their way from across the state to compete in the Spring JAMboree, a solo, duo, trio, and ensemble competition. It was an extremely well-run competition (always appreciated by the judges, who end up giving ten hours or more of their time) and I had a blast. Seeing young people bring material to life is always heartening and, though the theatre world has changed significantly, I got exposed to numbers from shows with which I was generally unfamiliar (I judged Advanced Musical Theatre Solo, Division 2 Duets, Advanced Monologues, and we all joined together for the trio and ensemble numbers). I also go to see some really talented kids (and had no embarrassing situations with the proverbial stage moms).

Some memorable moments:

Student actors Emory Musick, LeAnn Hall, and Dax Denton with their honors.

1)    The occasional song from the classic era. While most numbers were from fare like Hadestown, Dear Evan Hansen, and Beetlejuice, there was an occasional solo that came from a classic. One was “You Can’t Get a Man with a Gun,” one of the great numbers from Irving Berlin’s only real “integrated musical,” Annie Get Your Gun. Though it won 2nd place (we strictly went by the numbers on the score sheets—though we wrote notes on the back for the teacher to share with the students), it was a delight—and performed by LeAnn Hall, a real up-and-comer.

A memorable scene from Ghost Light Theatre Company's Come from Away

2)    The one time a classic play decided a competition. Some of the performers committed the cardinal sin of acting a monologue from a monologue book (i. e. not a cut from a play, which is harder but the only place you can truly show if you can act). But, after my judging team was wrangled last minute into judging Advanced Monologues, I desperately needed to go to the bathroom. It turns out everyone was looking for me because there was a tie for first place. When I finally returned and was shown my choices, I knew which one was right. A young actress performed a monologue from Lillian Hellman’s The Little Foxes, a mid-century American classic by, perhaps, our country’s greatest female playwright. And she nailed it. Every moment. After the competition, she came up to me and thanked me, saying she had never won anything. “You deserved it,” I replied—and she did.

Celebrate young people in the arts!

3)    The time I had to judge the harshest. While the score sheets were made in such a way that you could not truly hurt anyone, we did have the back page to write encouragements and things to work on. A young actress performed a monologue from Larry Kramer’s great American play The Normal Heart (lovingly rendered into a television film by HBO). While it was a daring choice—and I was thrilled a young person knew who Larry Kramer was—Kramer was writing in a time before our own where issues of gender were seen in the grand scheme simpler to deal with in a corporate way. Kramer wrote angrily and movingly about the number of men who succumbed to AIDS. Above any other demographic, they were the most affected in English-speaking nations and the monologue should have been performed by a man—not a woman—because they have no direct sense of the horror of that time and can never understand, even if they share characteristics in sexuality. I was gentle, but firm. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I didn’t give the theatre back that much.

So, it was a fantastic competition. I got to meet wonderful artists, see great young talent, and encourage adolescents to soar in the arts. A win, all in all.

Photographs, courtesy Hillside Church.