A Character Who Didn’t Make the Cut

Eva Moorman

There are a lot of words and a lot of scenes in Eli’s Heart, but not everything I wrote made it into the book. A writer’s conference I attended a couple of years ago left me with this gem: sometimes you need to write it, but the reader doesn’t need to read it. In other words, sometimes writing enriches your understanding of a character yet isn’t necessary to move the story forward.

My sense is that the better you know your characters, the more they will come to life for your reader. Writing about Krissy Porter’s years on the Conservatory campus were a journey back to the past for me; and many of the faculty members I had been fortunate enough to study with are uncannily similar to the faculty members who made such an impression on Krissy.

One faculty member, though, who didn’t make the cut was Krissy’s drama teacher, Eva Moorman. While she was a great character, she was minor in Krissy’s universe as a music major. But I liked her so much I kept her in my “drafts” folder. There are vestiges of this scene in Chapter Three, but here’s more.

**********

(Krissy) was studying lines from a script, the scene from Peter Pan where Peter and Wendy meet for the first time. She and her friend Marilyn had persuaded their drama teacher, Eva Moorman, to let them prepare the scene for class. Krissy and Marilyn were both voice majors, but had jumped at the opportunity to take Acting 101 with Eva.

Eva was a disciple of Constantin Stanislavsky. Krissy had never heard the name until she met Eva. One of the first acting exercises Eva gave her Acting 101 students was to wash their hands and consider all the elements involved, so that they could stand in front of the class and wash their hands without soap or water, but the class would see the soap and water because the actor was so believable, it would seem to be there.

When she demonstrated this, it was amazing. Eva really seemed to be using an invisible bar of soap. Krissy was convinced she could see the suds dripping off Eva’s hands. She could almost feel the water, because Eva was so obviously feeling it. Krissy washed her hands over and over, and tried hard to feel the soap and water without actually using them.

She failed miserably, thereby living up to Eva’s expectations.

The scene from Peter Pan was one that Krissy and Marilyn hoped would be included in a public performance of scenes by acting students. They agreed it would probably be a cold day in hell before Eva would let them perform it in front of an audience, but they both loved the play and enjoyed working on it, regardless.

On this particularly beautiful October day, Krissy was practicing the scene by herself, making a great effort to not sound too much like a hick playing David Barrie’s Wendy. Eva had said to Krissy and Marilyn. “Whatever you do, do not attempt an English accent.” She weighted every word when she said it, as if she were speaking in italics with a period between each word. Of course, Krissy immediately decided she’d have to try it, but certainly not anywhere in earshot of Eva.

Krissy stretched, closed her script, and stood to walk to West Hall for her drama class. Leaves crunched under her feet as she walked, and she smiled at the sound as she looked up at the clear blue sky overhead. She was eighteen years old, and could not imagine how her life could be better.

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Eli's Heart is available on Amazon, paperback and Kindle.

 http://smarturl.it/elih

Campus of the Conservatory of Music, Cincinnati

The Right Bad Guy

Living in My Head

     Over the past few days I have been attempting to develop a character who would provide me with the complication in another character’s life I was looking for. That probably makes little to no sense, so I’ll simplify it and say I’m trying to write a bad guy. Not a criminal type bad guy, or a sleazy type bad guy. A man who seems to be poised and charming, and musically talented. But there’s another side to this person who was eluding me; he’s narcissistic. That’s his badness.

     I’d been trying to envision a pianist or a conductor for my female character to become entangled with, but nothing I thought about really seemed to work for what I wanted to have happen to her. She’s a gifted violinist, a prodigy, actually. Her talent was recognized when she was four years old.

    Musical genius can be a two-edged sword. I’ve been re-reading a book about musical prodigies and revisiting some of the difficulties they can undergo as a result of their genius. The legendary cellist Pablo Casals, for example, suffered from severe nerves before every concert he ever played, right up until the last one, so he probably dealt with that for seventy years. He also suffered terrible emotional turmoil when he went through puberty and for some time afterwards, and often had thoughts of suicide during that period.

     Laura, my violinist, doesn’t endure anything that dramatic, but she has set herself apart from her peers and has few friends, and hasn’t had a romantic encounter. Okay, she hasn’t had sex yet, and she’s twenty-three. She picks the wrong man to have a romance with. But I couldn’t come up with the right guy. Well, the right wrong guy.

     This morning at 2 a.m. I awoke with the thought: why not make him a tenor? Her father is a famous tenor, so she has warm feelings about singers, and tenors in particular. And she’s still young enough, and inexperienced enough because of her isolation, to not be as discerning as she should be. My quest this morning – okay, in the middle of the night ─ was to find recordings of violinists and tenors performing together. Oh, I do so love YouTube. I was amazed at all the music I found! So poor Laura, she’s going to become enamored of a charmer with a glorious voice who is a real heel.

     The musical quest was a result of a thought as to how she meets this tenor who does her wrong. It would make sense that they perform together, and sparks fly, at least for her. Is there such music for them to perform? YouTube confirmed that there definitely is. Where does this happen?

     A great place might be the Aspen Music Festival, where they are both engaged for the entire eight week season to teach and perform. So thanks, Google Earth, for the tour of Aspen. I’ve been to Colorado but not specifically to Aspen. Well, now I’ve made a couple of virtual trips to Aspen and will undoubtedly make more over the next months. Modern technology, a great aide to the author.

     I’m sure sometimes my friends and family are concerned when I am sitting in a gathering with a blank look on my face, or if I walk right past someone I know on the street without even seeing them. Or call somebody by the wrong name. Yes, I’m getting up there in years. But at this point, what that indicates is that my head is in my next novel. I’m meeting my characters and learning who they are, and finding out what their journey is going to be, and marking time until I can get back to the computer and start writing all this stuff down.

     What a great way to spend my golden years.

Charles Dickens, Meet the 21st Century

Letter from the Editor

To: Charles Dickens, Esq.

Dear Chuck,

I got the first two chapters of your new book, and you have a lot of work to do.

First of all, the name is a real downer. “Bleak House”? Sounds like the most dismal funeral home imaginable. What kind of word is that, anyway – bleak. You need something that grabs the reader, something sexy or catchy. See if you can’t come up with a better title. Do you really have to use the word “house”? Could be it “castle” or “palace” instead? “House” is so bland. Or how about “Something Abbey”?

You simply have to stop stringing so many descriptions together in one interminable sentence and get to the point more quickly! And break those paragraphs … you can’t expect to hold a reader’s attention past the first page if it’s just one paragraph and all you’re doing is describing fog! I know you know lots of words, Chuck, but you don’t have to use every single one of them on the first page of the book.

You don’t have even one line of dialogue for page after page, and you need to get the reader involved with your characters right off the bat. The reader is going to be asleep by the time the first character talks. Oh, yeah … about that. Is the Lord High Chancellor one of the main characters? It doesn’t seem like it. You need to introduce at least one of the main characters right at the beginning of the chapter so the reader knows who this book is about. Especially since you’ve named the book “Bleak House.” What does that have to do with fog and the Lord High Chancellor?

I skimmed through the second chapter and see there’s a “Lady Dedlock” (after an overabundance of description about the weather and some talk of her house … is this “Bleak House”? Never mind, we’ll get to that later). Is Lady Dedlock a main character? Maybe you should just cut the first chapter and shorten the beginning of the second and introduce the Lady Dedlock, but she needs to talk right away. And she needs to say something pithy. You know what I mean. Something that makes the reader sit up and take notice. You have to hook them on the first page of the book, Chuck. I’ve told you that before.

Why don’t you start over and try writing it in the first person? It helps the reader get into the characters’ heads. You’ve got to forget the omniscient narrator. There are other ways to write, Chuck. We’ll put this one on hold until you give us something better.

P.S. Have you figured out what genre this book is? You know that’s important. Check the lists on Amazon. And watch your word count. Try to contain yourself and keep it under 100,000 words. 80,000 would be better.

The Girl Who Won ELI’S HEART

Eli’s Krissy

     It sometimes concerns me that people might look at the blurb for Eli’s Heart and see it’s about a classical pianist with a bad heart, and think it’s not something they’d enjoy reading. It is all the above, but it’s also about a young man who wants what most young men want, a happy and fulfilling life, which includes being with the person he loves.

     There is a lot of music in the book, to be sure, and quite a bit about Eli’s heart condition, Tetralogy of Fallot. There has to be, because it’s a constant part of his life and later his and Krissy’s life together. But Eli’s heart condition doesn’t define him. And as young newlyweds he and Krissy are learning a lot about each other. The book begins in the nineteen fifties, a period when people tended to marry young if they wanted to be together – and Krissy and Eli definitely want to be together.      
     The first year of their marriage has highs and lows, and they wanted me to share all of that with the people who read their story. Here’s an excerpt.

  

     A week later Krissy decided to try her hand at lasagna. She shopped for the ingredients a day ahead, following Kim’s instructions carefully. When she got home the next day to start cooking, she placed her portable record player on the dinette table and put La Traviata on the turntable.

     First the meat sauce; as Kim had instructed, she browned the beef and drained it through a colander, then added the tomato sauce and seasoning to taste. Kim’s recipe called for a third of a cup of red wine. Krissy had a bottle of Chianti that had been a wedding gift. She thought, if wine is good in the sauce, how about a little in the cook? She poured some Chianti in a small juice glass, stirred the sauce and tasted it, and took another sip of her wine. She had lots of time; Eli had a rehearsal for the trio and wouldn’t be home until six, so she planned to put the lasagna in the oven by five-thirty.

     While the noodles were cooking, she tasted the sauce again and poured herself a little more Chianti. She started the opera over and started singing with Violetta when she got to “Sempre libera.” Krissy started to feel creative, and decided another half glass of wine in the cook might be a great idea.

     Putting the layers together was kind of like making a piece of art. She was liberal with the parsley; Krissy liked parsley. She finished the dish by topping it with Parmesan cheese and put her lasagna in the oven, pouring a little more wine in her glass so she could toast the cook. She had a loaf of French bread she sliced, and added butter and a very light sprinkle of garlic powder. She put the record player away but continued to sing as she set the table, switching to “Torna a Surriento.”

      Eli walked in as she was taking the dish out of the oven. He couldn’t believe it was his apartment; a delicious aroma hit him as he came through the door. Krissy met him with a passionate kiss, flushed with Italian opera, Italian cooking, and Chianti. She took off his coat and ushered him to the table and served his food, pouring a glass of wine for him and another half glass for herself.

     When he took his first bite, she loved seeing his eyes get very big. “Kristina ... this is delicious!” He took another bite.  “Maybe even better than Kim’s.” He took another bite, and said very little through the rest of the meal. He was too busy eating. Krissy had to agree with him, she had made good lasagna. “How did you do this, wife? I mean, I know you’ve been learning to cook, but this is ...”

     Krissy laughed, “Eli, I’ve been an awful cook. You’ve been so sweet to put up with all my experiments in the kitchen. Kim was a big help; she wrote out her recipe and told me not to be afraid to add stuff. She says that’s what Italian cooking is all about. I’m happy this turned out so well. Maybe I should stick with Italian.” She took another sip of wine. “You know what ... maybe I was Italian in another life.” They both laughed.

     Eli finished his second generous helping of lasagna and Krissy wrapped up the casserole dish and put it in the refrigerator for dinner the next day. One really nice thing about lasagna was that there was enough left for another meal. Her first leftovers. They scraped their plates and washed and dried the dishes.

     “Maybe I won’t have to add ‘good cook’ to my list of Things That Aren’t Going to Happen,” Krissy told him. “Oh, I never told you about that list, did I? Ballerina, opera star, famous actress ... that’s the list so far. All my limited talents.”

     Eli put his arms around her. “There’s one talent you have that’s definitely not limited, my love,” he said. “Fortunately for me, it’s something you do for an audience of one.”

     “Well, it’s a big help that the audience is interactive,” she said as he led her into the bedroom.

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www.susanmoorejordan.com

A Long Ago Shooting

Up From the Ashes

Over a half century ago, when I was a junior at Oak Ridge High School in Tennessee, my close friend Anita Barker’s parents were shot to death by Anita’s estranged brother-in-law.

Oak Ridge was a unique town, established as a part of the Manhattan Project during the Second World War and operated and guarded by the military. After the war, eventually the town became independent but it was still a safe place. Of course, in the nineteen fifties the entire country was very different. What happened when Bob Duke walked into the Barker house and gunned down three people (the third person was Anita’s other brother-in-law, who lingered in agony for several months before succumbing to his horrific wounds) was a terrible shock to the entire town. The three Barker daughters, of whom Anita was the youngest, were orphaned in mere minutes that night.

Anita was a talented girl who aspired to be a singer and actress. The shooting happened the weekend before auditions for the annual high school musical, which was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel that year. Since she’d had a nice supporting role the year before, Anita was hoping for a lead in her senior year and it seemed she had a good chance to earn one of the three female principal roles.

The directors, primarily the school’s chorus and orchestra teacher, chose to reschedule the auditions so that Anita would have a chance to audition. She won the leading role of Julie Jordan. Seeing how being immersed in the musical drama helped Anita through the most difficult period of her young life – she was eighteen ─ had an impact on me that I only fully realized decades later.

My part in her drama was peripheral. I didn’t have to bury my parents and go on stage some seven weeks later in an emotionally draining role. But my family and I did everything we could for her, all the while feeling helpless. It was a journey she and her sisters had to take by themselves.

I learned only recently the terrible toll those events took on Anita for the rest of her life. She died of breast cancer while in her fifties. I feel sure there was little if any understanding of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at the time. I doubt Anita received the help she so badly needed. While she had not been home at the time of the shooting, her world was blown apart.

Directing a high school production of Carousel – a musical which deals with life and death ─ in 1994 brought her very much to mind. And a second production two years ago, in the same high school, made me think even more about what she had been through. Each time I directed Carousel I shared Anita’s story with my cast, and it added depth to their performances.

It was that second production that opened my eyes to how much I had been affected by being with her during that experience. I keep saying I wasn’t “directly affected,” but I certainly was changed. I looked at the world differently. I thought more about death and its aftermath, and realized at a very young age how fragile and uncertain life is. People were not supposed to die suddenly and violently while they were still young. Yet I had attended a funeral of two such people, people I had seen only a short time before, when I was barely sixteen.

But at the same time, seeing my friend’s strength and courage bolstered by her participation in Carousel, I also became aware of the healing power of creativity, particularly of music. I think the experience helped me understand beyond question that music was my calling, and it has been my life.

To see the extent to which gun violence has burgeoned in this country during the past decades is saddening and distressing. To think how many young people these days have to deal with these events and their aftermath is – I can’t even find the right word. Horrific. Awful. Unthinkable.

The remarkable group of twenty-first century young men and women I directed in 2013 performed Carousel with love, respect, and skill, moving their audiences at each performance with the beautiful story. Not long after that production, I wrote my first book, How I Grew Up, giving Anita, finally, a voice to tell her story.

From the pages of that first novel came two additional stories of young people who had been part of that Carousel production. I am in the process of making slight revisions in How I Grew Up to tie it more closely to Eli’s Heart and You Are My Song. While the books are stand alone stories, they all began in that brief period when a group of young people shared an intense, life-changing experience. How I Grew Up with be re-released in early November as the first book in “The Carousel Trilogy.” These are coming of age stories of young men and women who face challenges with courage and hope. Music is very much part of their lives – and part of their courage.

 Cover designs by Tristan Flanagan

 www.susanmoorejordan.com

 http://smarturl.it/elih

Decisions, Decisions

To iPhone6 or not to iPhone6 … that is the question

Now that my iPhone 4S and I seem to be getting along better, I’m eligible for an upgrade. I went virtual shopping and found that I qualify for several different cell phones – the iPhone 6, iPhone 6 Plus, Galaxy 6. I didn’t even know what a Galaxy was but a little research told me it’s a Samsung product and people who use it love it.

Hmmm. Being the queen of procrastination I haven’t yet decided what to do about this. There’s no rush, it took me a long time to get that 4S two years ago but I am glad I did. I love my iPhone. Unlike today’s generation, I don’t panic if I forget to take it with me when I leave my house, but I admit it does feel a little odd to be out of touch with the world for a couple of hours. For most of my life I survived nicely with a land line (and when I learned that term it was a milestone).

There were undoubtedly times in my life when having a cell phone would have been extremely helpful. What prompted my first cell phone purchase was being in a situation where I was waiting for someone, actually at a resort, and I was unable to call her because every pay phone I found at the resort wasn’t working. Unbelievable. The nasty weather had turned into an ice storm and I felt reasonably sure she wasn’t able to get out of her development (we have them here in the Poconos) but I didn’t want to turn around until I confirmed that.

Eventually I bought the 4S and wondered why I had waited so long to jump on the bandwagon. And I was sure I’d just upgrade to the 6 or 6 Plus. Until I put out a query on my Facebook page – you know the drill, picking your Facebook friends’ brains about a decision you have to make. All of this still makes me sit back and think seriously? We really can do this nowadays? How the world has changed in the past fifty years! Heck, in the past twenty years!

Well, my kind friends rushed to offer me advice, and now I am thoroughly confused. Here’s a small sample:

I didn't think I'd like giving up my 4s, but I have an iPhone 6 now, and I love it! I thought the plus would be too big as I use my pockets a lot.

I loved my 4s and I was skeptical about upgrading but I also now love my 6!

(Many comments similar to these.)

One of my favorite suggestions came in the form of a picture from Lucia:

  

 Anyway, many, many plugs for the iPhone 6 and 6 Plus. Then I got this from Tom Lehman, who is singing opera in Berlin (another thing that boggles my mind, instant group discussions from anywhere in the world!):

  The better phone, technically, is the Samsung. But because you are used to the iOS architecture, you should get the 6. 

This sounded a little like a challenge, especially when followed by:

The Samsung Note 4 is the best phone on the market. I have a Note 2 that is 3 years old and still out performs the IP 6 platforms---which are just now catching up in size. Tom is right. The Samsung is the superior phone but if you’re used to the Apple's simplistic platform and functions, stick with it. But if I were you, I’d wait a few more months and get the Note 5 when it comes out. it will be 3-4 years ahead of the IP6, easily.

Now that, coming from Telly Halkias, a fellow writer whom I greatly admire, was definitely a challenge.

Dilemma. Then another friend, Kate, gave me this wonderful out, and a reason to continue to procrastinate:

 You might consider doing what I'm going to do -- wait until September when the updated version of the 6 is released (it'll probably be a 6s). It's supposed to have some nice improvements.

So as long as my iPhone 4S is behaving itself, I am going to refrain from moving to actual shopping and wait for September.

Well, it’s not that far away.

another suggestion from Lucia

Our Trip to CAMELOT

More about my book in progress, “More Fog, Please!” – 31 Years Directing Community and High Schol Musicals. Here’s an excerpt from the chapter on Camelot. (The chapter begins with my director’s note for the production and I’ve reproduced a section of that to start this blog post.)

     Of all the myths and legends that are part of our cultural heritage, none catches and holds our imagination more than the stories of King Arthur. The “once and future king” is presented as a ruler of vision, justice, and nobility, brought to a tragic end by those he loves most.

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     The tales of Arthur and his knights are far too many to be telescoped into an evening of theater. Alan Jay Lerner, in writing the book (or dialogue ) for Camelot, took some material from T. H. White’s book, The Once and Future King. (King Pellinore, as he appears on stage, is taken almost verbatim from White.) He also adapted some material from other sources, concentrating on Arthur’s attempt to establish a just kingdom in the midst of a chaotic historical period, and on the story of Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere. Arthur’s illegitimate son, Mordred, also plays a key role in the story.

**********

     Every age looks for heroes to admire and to emulate. Because of his courage, and in particular his courage to forgive – and love those he forgave – Arthur is a hero for all time. In this imperfect world, neither Arthur nor his kingdom could long survive, but

Don’t let it be forgot

That once there was a spot

For one brief, shining moment

That was known as Camelot.

Susan Jordan

Pocono Lively Arts (Stroudsburg High School)

July, 1991

     It is quite a journey from the Fairy Godmother and Cinderella to Merlin, Morgan Le Fay, Nimue and Camelot, but the wonderful world of musical theater takes us many magical places. This was another show I had long looked forward to directing. And I see that once again I had a rather lengthy director’s note due to my intense interest in the subject. Researching the background of a show I always found an engrossing, fascinating part of preparing a production.

     One thing that immediately comes to mind about this show is performing it in the middle of a sizzling heat wave. Summers in the Poconos can be just about anything: rainy and cool, dry and hot, stretches of warm days and cool nights, stretches of cool days and almost cold nights. On occasion, it can be brutally hot, day and night.

     We had such a spell that summer, and it fell mainly during tech week and performance weekend. The audiences were fine, they were sitting in air-conditioning, but whatever cooled air there might have been on stage was burned away by the lights. So actors in heavy medieval garb were walking through hallways that were stifling onto a stage that was an eyelash away from Dante’s inferno due to stage lighting.

     As a result, when the actors were not on stage, they generally shed as much of those heavy costumes as decency would allow. Nearly everyone had on an item of apparel under their costume which could be worn without shocking anyone … a leotard or a bathing suit, for the most part. Our Lancelot was a very good looking young college student who was a swimmer. I don’t think I need to elaborate. Whenever he could, he stripped down to swim trunks. The ladies in the cast were most appreciative. The words “eye candy” come to mind. It gave them something to think about other than the miserable heat.

     Morgan Le Fay must have been up to some mischief during our production because we had some interesting developments during our preparation. First was the case of the disappearing costumer, a woman who had agreed to handle costume rentals for the show. We had decided not to stint on this show. If you do Camelot, you want to do it right. She came in early in the rehearsal period with a committee who measured the cast and prepared the forms required by the rental company. Those were duly sent to the company, and her job was done until it was time to take delivery of the costumes, fit the actors, handle any necessary alterations and keep careful tabs on everything during the performances, and then collect everything to be returned.

     Ten days or so prior to show weekend I attempted to contact her to remind her of our schedule. For a couple of days I called repeatedly and couldn’t get an answer on her phone. Finally, I reached someone who informed me she was out of town. “When will she be back?” The answer stunned me.

     “We’re not sure.” What?? They were quite serious; no projected return date. She might as well have been M.I.A. Fortunately, another woman who had helped with costumes for a high school production was around, and was brave enough to take over. This was a big rental order; she became my hero. 

     King Arthur was a tall man with proportionately long arms. The stuff the costume company sent didn’t fit well; the sleeves were all too short. We were less than thrilled with Guinevere’s costumes. Merlin worked some reverse magic to counteract what Morgan had been up to (that wicked girl) and a trip to the costumer – a drive of about an hour and a half ─ was very fruitful. We came back with treasure; wonderful costumes for both the King and the Queen.

     There’s a dog in Camelot; King Pellinore has a dog named Horrid. We only need to see him once, but he’s important to Pellinore’s first entrance. We hoped to find the large, shaggy dog referenced in the script, and a friend brought his dog Ray to a rehearsal. Ray was an Irish setter, friendly, very sweet, and seemed just right for Horrid. Until the second time he went onstage.

     Ray managed to get on stage – just barely – and proceeded to lie down, after which he refused to budge. At all. He wouldn’t even lift his head. The actor who was playing Pellinore looked to me for help, but I didn’t have anything to offer. We hadn’t even considered “hiring” a dog: Horrid is only onstage one time, and is on a leash.

Eventually, Ray’s owner managed to get him offstage, and I said to him later, “I don’t think this is going to work.” He agreed. The orchestra conductor had a dog named Penny, who was getting along in years and half blind, but with her daddy in the orchestra pit she was fine. Penny had the role.

     One last not-so-shining moment … I love stage fog. Or stage mist; whatever you call it, it’s just fun to spread around for a magical show like Cinderella or Camelot. To the best of my memory, Camelot was the first show for which we used a chemical fog machine rather than one which required dry ice. My son Steve was not only lighting director, but technical director for the show. Chemical fog machines are nifty, because you’re not constricted by having to keep feeding dry ice to the machine. Merlin was bewitched by Nimue, and the fog poured out over the stage. It looked great.

     It was too great. It set off the fire alarms in the high school where we were performing, and before we knew it the Stroudsburg Volunteer Fire Department roared up to the school, at least two trucks and first responders in full fire-fighting regalia, right on the heels of the school principal (he lived mere blocks from the school). Apologies all around; we promised to control the amount of fog we produced and not have a repeat of the false alarm. The principal was very forgiving under the circumstances. So we had fog, but it was subdued fog. Too bad … the first attempt had been glorious.

     I still love Camelot, but I think it’s a show with a flaw. There is far too much dialogue, but it’s good dialogue and it’s very difficult to cut. Mr. Lerner tried valiantly to bring this sprawling epic down to a manageable evening and he did a good job. It’s still too long. But the dialogue is truly wonderful, and our actors did it well.

     Pocono Record writer Susan Koomar gave us a fine review, referring to the production as “princely.” “Well-acted and visually lush, this version of Lerner and Loewe’s classic is entertaining and often enchanting.” She went on to praise many individual performances and ended the review by referencing my director’s note: “… noble Arthur and his kingdom could not long survive in this imperfect world. But that kingdom is revived here in good measure for a short time.”

    She liked us. She really liked us!

Camelot, Pocono Lively Arts, July 1991

Photo by Roselinde Karlson