Olena's Sapphire Blog...one of the most eloquent guest blogs I've had the privilege of receiving!
Seven years ago two students from my class, one boy and one girl, were chosen to sit in on the interviews for the new Year 6 teacher that would be theirs in the following year. Myself and a boy named Maverick were selected. The first interview was long and quite dull (hence the reason why I can’t for the life of me remember the lady’s name) but the second candidate seemed more at ease with himself and the moment he mentioned the possibility of introducing a drama lesson into Monday’s otherwise mundane timetable, I immediately thought he was perfect for the job. He did in fact become my Year 6 teacher, Mr Johnson, and so, Yew Tree came into school on a Monday morning to run several workshops with the Year 6s. It was in one of these sessions that the director, Sarah (whom I thought to be a lovely person), approached Claudia, Rachel, Georgina and I suggesting that we joined the company of Yew Tree Youth Theatre that ran on a Monday night. I delightfully accepted.
Seven years ago two students from my class, one boy and one girl, were chosen to sit in on the interviews for the new Year 6 teacher that would be theirs in the following year. Myself and a boy named Maverick were selected. The first interview was long and quite dull (hence the reason why I can’t for the life of me remember the lady’s name) but the second candidate seemed more at ease with himself and the moment he mentioned the possibility of introducing a drama lesson into Monday’s otherwise mundane timetable, I immediately thought he was perfect for the job. He did in fact become my Year 6 teacher, Mr Johnson, and so, Yew Tree came into school on a Monday morning to run several workshops with the Year 6s. It was in one of these sessions that the director, Sarah (whom I thought to be a lovely person), approached Claudia, Rachel, Georgina and I suggesting that we joined the company of Yew Tree Youth Theatre that ran on a Monday night. I delightfully accepted.
The first official Monday Night
(as it was known before the rainbow of colours that represent companies today
were thought of) session started with a tentative step through the drama studio
doors followed almost instantaneously by joy and excitement as I quickly
glanced around the circle to recognize the faces and Ben and Holly, which put
be at ease and enabled the feeling of excitement to wash away all the nerves.
Six years later and I can say
that without Sapphire I don’t think I’d be the confident, enthusiastic,
imaginatively creative and sometimes overwhelmingly weird person I am today.
My final session ran a little
like this:
Beginning with my favourite part
of any Yew Tree session, best and worst was, as always is, an interesting tale
of the adventures of my fellow Yew Tree-ers that I am always anxious to listen
to. A game of cat and mouse and amoeba and Sarah realised that history was
repeating itself and disregarding the [‘rule’]-book and set upon a long overdue
game of The Bean Game. I’m sure you all have your own tales of games at your
respective companies, jokes told, mini-tantrums had, King Ball balls lost (that
was Sapphire) but for me The Bean Game presents two interesting tales that I
will be carrying forever. The first was back on Monday 2nd November
2009; my 13th birthday. Danny was running the game and it was down
to the final two, Jack and myself. The tension was increasing as we stood
ready, prepared to react on cue. Was it going to be quick succession of long
bean, broad bean, long bean, long bean, to see who flinched? Was it going to be
Mexican Bean to see who could sing La Cucaracha the loudest and with the most
enthusiasm? French Bean! Oh La La! I was quicker and thus won for my first time
at Sapphire on my birthday no less, to which Danny insisted on an extra round
of applause. A second tale attached to this game came from June (I think, could
possibly be May) of last year. The year of GCSE exams and a broken foot. This
time however, I did not win, but executing French Bean with a giant walking
boot strapped onto your left foot was the ridiculous attempt I have ever done
and thus is etched in brain with other joyful tales that will be reminisced
about later in life.
Back to the session. It forever
has been, and forever will be, a delight to watch Sapphire explore, create, and
perform and this evening was no exception. After being split off into groups,
we chose at random two sets of text and were instructed to create a piece
inspired by them. I enjoyed devising our piece as watching creative ideas flow
and mould together is in itself an artful performance that I would love to
watch; how just from the word Shakespeare and a line about three men waiting in
a queue sparked a piece set in a coffee shop with two disgruntled customers,
one barista chatting with an old friend, and one barista mopping the floor
constantly wanting to show off her Shakespeare prowess by chiming into the
conversation with the line “I know a sonnet about that!”. Marianne’s group,
guessing inspired by something along the lines of rumours, was comedic and
brilliantly showed how a kind invite to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S can turn into a
giant party that the Queen, Prince Harry and a platoon of corgis were
attending. Ellen’s group’s performance was intriguing, the use of the scarf to
transition between each part of the person’s character was wonderfully
inventive. Then it made me think.
Who am I? What made me? Over a lifetime many people, places, and events have an
impact on you. But over the past six years none more so for me than the
splendidness that is Sapphire. Although I am not leaving Yew Tree forever as I
am attending Gold on a Saturday now, Sapphire will always be a special part of
my life. So now, as I can barely see what I am typing through the wells in my
eyes and the tears that a falling softly down my cheeks, this isn’t a goodbye
more of a see you later and I look forward to it.
A final thing that I want to say
is…
I know a sonnet about that:
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly did excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness everywhere:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly did excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness everywhere:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
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