I have really enjoyed my Drama class. It has provided the perfect contrast to my more regimented subjects such as Chemistry and Maths, and no less important in my eyes. Though it took about two weeks for the class’ members to get accustomed to one another, the atmosphere of welcome and enthusiasm for drama was present since day one. The many different personalities of my classmates soon began to compliment each other, urging more fervent participation in exercises. I have come to respect several people in our class that I normally would not associate with, and would hope that they’ve gained some respect (rather than polite placation) of me.

The drama exercises were craftily educational whilst being blatantly enjoyable. My favourites were ‘Waxwork museum’, a great example of characterisation via stillness, and ‘Anything but…’, as entertaining to watch as to participate. Another memorable moment was the lesson we did in masks, where inhibitions melted underneath those slightly uncomfortable disguises and some downright crazy scenarios unfurled. Though I’m positive that, no matter hard he tries, Steve cannot glue me to the floor without a large quantity of araldite or a glue gun, his occasional interjections of anecdotes and ‘hypnotism’ added more variety and fun to the exercises we did.

My most enduring memory of this drama class will be our monologues. Not my own, I’ve forgotten most of it already, but my peer’s. It was wonderful to see how much they’d learnt over the course, how they applied it and used their own individual knowledge as well. Up to that point I hadn’t realised the potential of the class, it wasn’t exactly a surprise but a pleasant realisation. Each markedly different script was made all the more unique by the performances, the characters briefly brought to life. Some of the performances I saw were worthy of trained professionals!

The assignment was obviously a bit of a shock for some class members, but was linked in with the monologue performances in such a way that it’s relevance stopped it from being an annoyance. The assignment was, thankfully, an anomaly in an otherwise magnificently practical course. Too much written work kills off enthusiasm for a subject as dynamic as drama, and I think this course has found the perfect balance between written work and practical work (ie. Negligible written work)

As the course progressed, it became more and more enjoyable. New exercises were mixed with old, favourites enjoyed anew. It was nice to meet Jonathan and see him going through the same process we did all those weeks ago: initially slightly intimidated and unsure, but soon getting used to the enthusiastic, slightly insane atmosphere and joining in with gusto.

I’m going to miss this drama class for so many different reasons, and can only hope that next semester’s drama will be as interesting, fun, educational and barmy.

As for our final preformance... Boats! Wheels! Bands that don’t play! What a nuttily perfect mixture of ideas, and what a perfect mixture of nuts to preform those ideas.

The initial brainstorming process was as productive as it was chaotic. I’d never seen a group of people with so many ideas and such loud voices. Thankfully the bedlam calmed down once we had decided on a basic framework for the plot. I’m rather chuffed that my boat idea was adopted, and was nicely surprised with the odd direction the plot took. We worked harmoniously, loudly and productively for quite some time.

Then, as with all long-term group projects, we reached the “I don’t wanna do this stupid play anymore” stage. This was the real point of danger for our play – should the negative perspective get it’s way, several hours of work would be erased, wasting a sizable amount of time. Thankfully, with some skilled negotiation from Steve, the unenthusiastic parties were convinced to soldier on. Enthusiasm was regained and the SSS Rubber Ducky was back on course.

Rehearsing separate scenes was quite entertaining, especially when I wasn’t involved and could simply watch. Each new idea tried out and incorporated was so inspired, or nicely silly, and it was great to watch them being woven into the plot. It was like watching a baby duck shed its fluff an grow some proper feathers, ready to fly into the performance.Each person suited his or her roles very well. In 20 years rime I can just
see Roy guarding a drum kit, Emma proclaiming that her name is Emma a lot, and Alissa gloating about her wheel-like pretzel. I was especially happy with my casting – sprouting random sentences than mean nothing is something I do every day, and to have an opportunity to do so without someone shouting and throwing something at me was a unique experience. And, as a Skeptic, I relished the opportunity to send up psychics (or p-sychic, if you like…)

It is a pity that our final performance seemed to bemuse rather than entertain the assembled audience. Perhaps this was due to the fact that our
plot, whist perfectly understandable to those who had developed it and knew it, was slightly too convoluted to be fully understood in such a short time. Perhaps it was because the lighting wasn’t completely worked out. Perhaps it was because our audience was far too sensible to comprehend the pretzel heist in all of its glory.

Whatever the reason for it, the final performance’s bemused audience wasn’t really a big problem. We had a lot of fun presenting it, learnt so much developing it, and ended up with a darn good story preformed consummately and enthusiastically. I’ll never look at a pretzel the same way again.

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