Saratoga Stereopticon
Drama Group represents the real Saratoga
By Willys Peck
It's an increasingly recurring phenomenon, this sensation of looking into an empty box that once held Stereopticon slides, all the while being painfully aware of the approaching copy deadline. A logical conclusion: After four years, it's towel-tossing time.
That old feeling was creeping up on me again until I saw Sandy Sims' excellent May 31 piece about the Saratoga Drama Group's production of The Music Man. The SDG had figured prominently in one of my earliest Stereopticon columns in 1996, and a still, small voice within said, "Recycle." I put away the towel.
There was another factor prompting a rehash. This was a mass-mailing postcard from a real estate office listing 49 Saratoga home sales ranging from $2,300,000 to $6,168,000. I expect to catch plenty of flak for this oxymoronic observation, but I say that publicizing such an outpouring of opulence cheapens the image of Saratoga. Someone unfamiliar with the town could reasonably infer from such material that Saratoga is just another place where people go to be rich, but that is selling the town far short of its real significance. This town is and always has been much more than just a rich man's enclave. For instance, Saratoga was on the cultural map as far back as the time when the opening day of school was determined by the prune harvest. The reason for that, of course, was that the kids were needed to pick prunes.
But, back to The Music Man. It was a dazzling, professionally turned-out performance, and it really drew the crowds. Even my two granddaughters, ages 7 and 10, were inspired to re-create the opening Rock Island number on the flat car on my backyard railroad, complete with printed program and props. I must say they were quite good.
The Drama Group, as was pointed out in the Saratoga News article, started as the Federated Drama Group under the auspices of the Federated Church, and this is where I start the recycling, as well tooting my own horn for a bit. But, as my late father-in-law used to say, "He that tooteth not his own horn, the same shall not be tootethed."
What started as essentially a play-reading circle very soon became a production group because of the enthusiasm of the members. The first show, in the late summer of 1963, was Thornton Wilder's Our Town. The Drama Group was fortunate in having an adequate performance facility--today we'd call it a venue--in the church complex, Richards Hall. It had a small but adequate proscenium stage with a draw curtain and enough seating capacity for the audiences of the time.
Our Town was followed in the fall by an old-fashioned melodrama in which the basic corny theme was suitably exploited.
This is where the horn-tooting starts. I was president of the Drama Group at the time and I wanted to see the organization sink its histrionic teeth into some really meaty theatrical fare. I was pushing for Inherit the Wind, the stage fictionalization of the 1925 Scopes "monkey trial" that pitted religious fundamentalist William Jennings Bryan against agnostic lawyer Clarence Darrow. It wasn't your basic church-sponsored fare, but the Drama Group's adviser, the Rev. Frank Jaggers, an assistant pastor, went along with the idea and the show was produced in early 1964. It was a resounding success and, in my view, accomplished two things. One, it proved to audiences that the group was capable of serious, significant work, and two, it generated interest among genuinely talented individuals outside the church who participated in later productions.
Inherit the Wind was followed by South Pacific, Teahouse of the August Moon and The King and I, among others. Later, the church affiliation was ended and the Drama Group continued in its present form.
I'd like to think that the work of the Federated Drama Group played a part in the decision by the city council of the time to include a theater as an integral part of the civic center. "Here's your theater, I recall the late councilman Dick Drake saying to me at the time.
It's been 30 years since I was associated with the group. My last gig was in a 1970 production of A Thurber Carnival, in which I delivered "The Night the Bed Fell." It was a hoot.
I understand that one custom from the Federated Drama Group days continues. Back then, someone would offer a prayer as the cast gathered before each production. Now, someone offers either a prayer or an inspirational message.
Bring on your millionaires and billionaires, but let us prune pickers have our fun.
|
Saratoga, California Since 1955
