When I was a kid, there was a trend amongst all of us young’uns to tell very silly “Elephant Jokes”. One that always stuck with me was, “How do you eat an Elephant Sundae?” and the answer is “One bite at a time.” So, in the spirit of that silly little bit of 2nd Grade wisdom, I’m coming back with the next chapter of our Gamut history…. with some explanation about why it’s been so long in coming. I developed a bad case of “white page syndrome” that writers talk about. In other words, I just couldn’t start, and I know why. The story had largely featured me, Melissa, some friends, fellow travelers, and mentors. But, when we get to the advent of that part of the Gamut story, it really opens out, and the flood of different personalities and twists and turns in the story gets… well…. pretty overwhelming.
In some cases, exactly what happened when over 25 years ago is kind of foggy. In other cases, exactly who gets the credit or the blame for what happened isn’t clear. In a very few instances, there are events and people better left in the past. But, those are very, very few. Really, truth be told, I just became daunted at how big the story became, and whether I’d be able to tell it clearly. However, I’m typing now – taking my “one bite at a time” – and I’ve decided that I’m gonna give myself a break and just try to tell it as clearly, and hopefully, as entertainingly as I can. If the truth gets in the way of a good story, I’ll attempt to make peace between those two forces, and largely, in relation to those things and people better left in the past, I will make every effort to leave them there.
So, I believe I left off with telling about establishing our home for Popcorn Hat Players Children’s Theater in Strawberry Square. We were in Strawberry Square and moved around to several different locations over our first decade or so there. It wouldn’t be until the early 2000s, when we eventually landed in a long-term home, that we ultimately turned into a proper 99 seat theater. It was complete with sound system, small lighting grid, and even a box office. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.
I just want you to know that the chapter you’re about to read takes place in the mid-1990’s, during a time in which we floated from space to space in Strawberry Square. These were touch and go times in relation to establishing ourselves as a permanent entity with a permanent home. And to be honest, as much as I loved writing and performing the kid shows, our 24/7 immersion in writing scripts, making puppets, establishing a tentative financial plan, and the increasing amount of Trunk Shows (a Popcorn Hat Fairy Tale performed by 2 actors, a few props and costumes packed in a trunk, often performed at daycares, elementary schools, and civic organizations,) with no other outlet for more grownup faire… I found that I personally needed something different. As fate would have it, this all was about to change. And, I mean, significantly change. Melissa and I really had no idea at the time of the seismic shift that was coming in the life of our little endeavor.
So, it happened that sometime around the end of our first year of operation, we got a request from the Harrisburg Parks Partnership (RIP) to come to the newly restored mansion at the also newly restored Reservoir Park, in the section of the city known as Allison Hill, the highest point in the city of Harrisburg. We were not the lone invitation, and, in fact, members of several other Harrisburg Arts and Cultural entities were represented there. (Make a new paragraph here.)
It would be impossible to remember all in the room, but I do know that when I attended, I sat with representatives of The Harrisburg Opera Company (RIP), Harrisburg Community Theater (now named Theater Harrisburg), Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet, the Harrisburg Art Association, and the founders of the soon to be African American Family Festival. What were we there to discuss, we wondered. Soon we heard, as Tina Manoogian King, Director of Harrisburg Parks and Recreation, under the auspices of the Steven R. Reed administration, was in attendance. She had asked the Parks Partnership to call all the city’s Arts organizations to discuss the possible usage by any one of us, of the newly refurbished Ralph Feldser Memorial bandshell. This was located just down the hill a hundred yards or so from the very mansion in which we sat.
It was an impressive structure, and in a way, a giant artifact from another time. A Works Progress Administration (WPA) project, the structure was built in 1939 for the city to have regular big band concerts during the spring and summers that followed. From some of the stories that I have heard told, in its original days, it was a sight to behold. The structure is one that I lovingly call a “Bugs Bunny Bandshell,” because of how it resembles the structure in the classic Looney Tunes short “Long Haired Hare.” It’s also very similar, if you’re familiar, with the famous Hollywood Bowl bandshell.
The Ralph Feldser Memorial Bandshell, built by the Works Progress Administration in 1939 with a grant of $290,000.
Some years after it had been built, it had fallen into deep disrepair, and before the refurbishment in the Reed Administration, if had become not just an eyesore, but also a danger to neighborhood children, as many of the panels inside the ribs had fallen out. According to a friend of mine who had grown up just outside the park, kids had taken to crawling up inside the ribs, which, at the peak of their arcs would invite a 40ft drop onto a flat, crumbling concrete slab. It may have been fun for certain adventurous kids, but it also was, potentially, deadly.
But, the Reed administration did a fine job not only with completely refurbishing the shell, but also with totally revitalizing and re-terraforming the park. Roads were re-routed. Lovely streetlights were installed. Cul-de-sacs that had been abandoned and given over to illicit activity were eliminated. It was a complete make-over of a large, beautiful, historic Harrisburg treasure.
So, in the midst of all this revitalization, they had put substantial time and money behind largely bringing back the Feldser bandshell. The only thing they had failed to do, as, I imagine, it would have taken just too much money, was to fix the hundreds of lights that had once illuminated, in contrasting colors, each rim of the shell.
And now, we, the arts leaders (Melissa and I, as The Popcorn Hat Players, had done some shows for the PA First Lady’s reading initiative, as well as some outdoor city festivals, and doing that had likely given us just enough cred to be considered ‘Arts Leaders’) were gathered to brainstorm how we might possibly be able to make use of the shell. As folks talked, it became clear to me that nobody really had a great amount of use for the shell. The dancers felt that the concrete floor would not be conducive to dancing, as it could cause shin splints. The musicians felt that the space was too big. The civic organizations felt that they could use it, but only to feature bands as part of a larger, park-wide event. The visual artists were supportive, but couldn’t figure out how they might be able to use the structure. And that left me.
As it happened, Melissa and I had been talking about how we might be able to put together a stripped down, scenically minimal production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream using some cubes and some fabric, and seven actors, wearing blacks and minimal costume pieces to indicate the multiple characters which they would be called on to play. Now, it’s important to understand, this was one show that we were talking about. A single production. But, I thought that we might be able to make it work on the bandshell stage.
Built by the architectural firm of Foose and Lloyd in 1897. Clark attended a meeting of Harrisburg Arts leaders in 1993, just after the house was restored under Mayor Steven Reed's Parks Improvement Program.