May 19, 2012

Memories of When Malindy Swings Part II

When our first jazz musical When Malindy Swings was over a teacher who I had never even spoken to in ten years of working in the same school approached me. It had been several days since the final show wrapped. Eli and I were thinking about what we had just accomplished. We knew we had something spectacular, not only in the show itself but in the whole system of teaching that went into it. It was a uniquely inspiring feeling creating something that utilized all of our years of experience working with this age children. The show was written with their sensibilities in mind and we collaborated with incredible professionals including Eli’s mentor Walter Perkins. This teacher came up to me with a wrapped package and handed it to me and said in the softest voice, “Thank you.” I opened it up. Inside was a custom made plaque with congratulations engraved on it. She smiled a shy smile and walked away.

By Clifford Carlson

Memories of When Malindy Swings Part I

At the end of When Malindy Swings there is a very expressive “goodbye” dance section. Malindy had, as a child, sold her soul to Little Devil if he agreed to put her spilt milk back into her pail, and her time had then run out. Little Devil does not want to take her soul it but if he doesn’t he will not earn his horns and his father will be so disappointed with him. He has been protecting for years and they have become best of friends. She knows she must make the sacrifice, live up to her word, and go with him. Little Devil freezes time so she may say goodbye to her family. Malindy dances to express her leaving to husband and children. When Malindy finally moved closer to her children to say that goodbye, there was a feeling in that evening show, which was full of parents. It made you think the horrible thought, the one that every parent thinks and wrestles with and pushes to the back of their mind and begs whatever powers that be to protect their children from the world if you are no longer there to protect them.

After the that evening and final show the school librarian came over to me with tears in her eyes. She looked at me and couldn’t speak. She pushed through the sobs and said, “I couldn’t stop, that was… Mr. Carlson, that was…” she couldn’t finish. She just moved her head back and forth like she was shaking in and shaking off some kind of pain. “Beautiful,” she finally said.

By Clifford Carlson