Spectrum: An Evening of Theatre and Autism

From ATC Executive Director Dale Savidge



Participants engage a variety of creative outlets.

Much of our applied theatre work is strictly process based; it is never intended to be performed in front of a passive audience. The value of this work is in the acting and reacting, individually or in a group. It is learner centered and often open-ended. Certain groups would not be able to focus on the process if they were distracted by the stress of an impending public performance.

But there are situations when working toward a performance can enhance the value of the applied theatre program. Such was the case with the young adult autism group I do theatre with here in the Upstate of SC. We had done games, role playing, interviewing and other theatre-based activities in our monthly meetings. We will continue to do these kinds of AT activities. But I sensed the challenge of preparing to perform would enhance our work together, and after 3 public performances last week my hunch was confirmed.

Our cast began devising Spectrum: An Evening of Theatre and Autism in early March, in weekly Saturday rehearsals. We began meeting for 2 hours and then stretched it to 3 as the performances approached. We worked together with 7 neuro-typical actors from an applied theatre class I was teaching in the spring semester. Pairing typical actors with actors on the spectrum was an essential component of our success.

I had the idea to use the song “On the Road Again” to unify what would obviously be a diverse program. Our scenic artists and designer took the song and encouraged the young adults on the spectrum to draw their impressions of being on the road with friends. Their drawings were projected on 16’ flats; they painted them the next week, and they became a scenic backdrop for the performances.

Play participants in rehearsal.

A few of the cast members had never spoken or stood in front of an audience; some were hesitant to speak at all. Some of them rarely left their homes and spent most of their time on their computers. Their courage to participate in our games and rehearsals was inspiring to all of the neuro-typical people working on the show. What surprised me most was the decision by 2 of the least verbal autistics to sing in the program. Others offered to paint, move scenery, and be in a small play; these 2 offered to sing solos. Their singing started weak and hesitant but over the course of the 3 performances they became stronger and stronger. Our decision to do multiple performances was rewarded by the continual progress these performers made.

Like many applied theatre artists I continue to direct and produce audience-focused theatre. I also enjoy doing AT work with groups and I enjoy not worrying about that “opening night” deadline looming in the future. It’s easy to get a bit lazy, however, when that “opening night” deadline is not hanging over my head. So the addition of a performance dimension to the autism group here energized and focused me as well as the participants.  It isn’t always appropriate to place a public performance on the minds of your group members, but when it is be courageous and expect courage from your group members and, if your experience is anything like mine, you’ll be rewarded for it!

Spectrum is a play co-produced by the Applied Theatre Center and the North Greenville University Department of Theatre and directed by Dale Savidge.

The Finish Line Fiasco

Today's blog was written by Wayne Harrel. Wayne will be leading the Corporate Theatre track at this summer's conference. His post is a true story of how Adidas used business theatre to imprint their brand on a nationwide sales partner.

John Calipari, head men’s basketball coach at the University of Memphis, stepped off stage and said, “I think that went all right.”

I agreed it had, as I removed his wireless mic, while 600 Finish Line store managers continued to applaud. They were in Indianapolis for the company’s spring sales meeting, and this was the Adidas-sponsored lunch. Dinner last night was a hip hop concert, courtesy of Nike. Reebok was setting up a casino night in the ballroom next door. Adidas (my client) only had them for lunch, but wanted to make a lasting impression. Calipari was a good start, but there was more to come.

As the 600 store managers – late twenties all, big men, probably played ball in high school and even college – finished off their barbecued chicken and corn bread lunch, I put the wireless mic on the next presenter and reviewed the procedure one more time: ask the question, wait for a light, then let them answer. And remember – you’re the boss! It’s up to you to keep things rolling.

Then I took the announcer’s mic, waited for a cue from the producer, and boomed over the rowdy, lunchtime crowd:

All right, Finish Line! You’ve seen her on the cover of FHM, you’ve watched her on The Best Damn Sports Show, Period, and now, thanks to Adidas, here’s your chance to play ball with the one and only…Leeann Tweeden!

With that, the former Playboy model hopped on stage and the 600 managers rose as one. We’d divided them into four college teams – Nebraska, Notre Dame, Louisville and UCLA – and now each group tried to out-whistle, holler and stomp the others for Leeann’s attention. It felt like Betty Grable on an aircraft carrier.

Leeann waved, blew kisses and waited for the noise to die down. Meanwhile, I escorted four contestants on stage – each in his team’s football jersey – and smiled as each took the opportunity to greet Leeann personally.

We were playing NCAA sports trivia in a Jeopardy format and Leeann was our Alex Trebek. Having written all the questions, my job was to serve as judge and, at the same time, try to keep the game on track.

Eventually, Leeann got rolling and the game ran smoothly, with Louisville taking a quick lead. With every correct answer, their boys in the house cheered louder and louder, while the others whistled and yelled against them.

Soon, my producer was having a hard time hearing who answered correctly. Then, when 50 points were mistakenly given to UCLA, the house exploded as 150 men cheered, 150 booed and 300 laughed. Leeann soldiered on, asking questions, congratulating correct answers, and giving me the occasional, “Can you believe this?” look.

But then the Notre Dame guy started jumping up and down on stage. In his frustration at never ringing in first, he’d broken his stand; the small buzzer now dangled from a few thin wires. I showed him how to hold the device in his hand…which lasted until the next question when, in his excitement, he ripped the whole thing free.

Still, the game went on, with Louisville pulling farther and farther ahead. UCLA finally buzzed in first, but missed the question, which Louisville snagged correctly.

Now the guys at the Louisville front tables stood on their chairs and sang, “Na-na-na-na, hey-hey, goodbye!” at the UCLA tables across the room. The place was in an uproar. Leeann was shouting to be heard. Lunch was ending and Louisville mercifully cleaned the board.

As the Adidas staffed passed out special jerseys to the 150 Louisville winners, Leeann stepped off stage with a dazed look and said, “Well, that was…something.”

It sure was. 600 store managers had just spent a full hour yelling, whistling and laughing with Adidas – an experience both they, and I, would remember for a very long time.