
(from L) Jennings, Pounds & Day (shown at another event) all had stellar shows
Idyllwild Arts Theater Department continued with its senior one-man shows Wednesday night, May 5, at Rush Hall. Seven seniors each had 10-12 minutes to portray a meaningful event in their lives. They included: Cathy Velarde, Coral Cohen, Joey Jennings, Jessie Scales, Christine Wood, Shane Prentice-Waltz, and Amenta Abioto. They were not afraid to tackle tough topics, such as alcoholism, gay love, physical abuse, death of a parent, and divorce.
“Each of them did a stellar job tonight,” said Howard Shangraw, head of the Theater Department. He was also pleased with the previous night’s show in which seven other seniors had their moments in the spotlight, including: Cooper Smith, Ruby Day, Madison Cox, Carter Scott, Madeline Otto, Miracle Chance and Preston Pounds.
Before the show Wednesday night, Shangraw said each of the seniors were to perform their “personal monodramas” in their own words.
Not all of the seniors performed their pieces, however. Shangraw said they all had to write it, but some were not ready, while others chose not to perform their pieces. Those seniors included: Jamie Cahill, Riley Lynch, Todd Carpenter, Erin Leanne Gray and Cody Oyama.
In preparation, Shangraw reviewed with the students several one-man shows by professional actors, including: Margaret Cho, Anna Denver Smith, Lilly Tomlin, Spalding Gray, David Drake and Lynn Redgrave, among others.
Just recently, Redgrave passed away after battling breast cancer, Shangraw said. But she performed a great one-man show called, “Shakespeare with my Father,” which helped her come to terms with her famous actor/father, Michael Redgrave.
Some of the one-man shows they previewed were political in nature, Howard said, but he was surprised that none of them chose to write about politics. Instead, they “laid themselves bare” before their classmates, teachers and Idyllwild townsfolk.

Preston Pounds talked about a conversation with his dad
“Some of the parents were in the audience,” Shangraw said. “On Tuesday night, Preston Pounds’ dad was there when he discussed their ‘coming out’ conversation. He even played his father’s voicemail. It was pretty emotional.”
“I was impressed by the way they just embraced their hurdles head on,” Shangraw added.
First up on Wednesday night was Cathy Velarde with her monologue entitled, “Ink on the Script.” Velarde staged it as an audition in her own life, in which a casting director barked out orders, and she almost didn’t get the part.
Velarde spoke of unrequited love in Australia, and how coming to California and Idyllwild Arts was a life-changing experience.
“There were always storms brewing behind those eyes,” she said of her former boyfriend. She spoke honestly about how she wanted him to “save” her. In the end, however, she chose to move on with her life.
In “All That Unsayable Life,” Coral Cohen talked about her battle with words, and how they were “empty shells that echo” in trying to help her express her feelings. She grew up speaking English, Hebrew and Spanish at home, and had always had a hard time with words.
She also spoke honestly about being rejected at theater auditions. She was certain they would like her, if they only knew her true self.
“I really like me!” she exclaimed. “I’m wonderful! But sometimes I can’t always get that across!”

Joey Jennings talked about alcoholism
Next up was Joey Jennings who brought along some plackards for his monologue, “12,” which discussed his life with an alcoholic parent. The title reflected the 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous.
Step One: “Do you remember eating Taco Bell in the dark for a week?” Jennings asked his parent, who was struggling to pay for food and the electric bill. It was not clear if he was addressing his mother or father.
“I was six years old and oblivious,” he said. “Me in my Spiderman underwear, bringing bugs into the house, and flushing cards down the toilet.”
Step 2: “I left Bible Study and informed you that Jesus wasn’t real, and that I didn’t want anything more to do with the Catholic Church,” Jennings said. He hurt because he disappointed his mother, and put a knife to his wrists that night.
“I didn’t do it,” he said, to enthusiastic applause. “I had disappointed you once that day, and it would really piss you off to have me dead lying on the kitchen floor.”
The other steps outlined the teen-parent struggles, and how their lives changed when they moved into a senior home, and when he finally came to Idyllwild Arts his junior year.
“Why did I come here?” Jennings asked his parent. “Shit, I even ‘came out of the closet’ here, and you were unemployed in a hospital bed on Christmas Eve. You didn’t follow the plan!”
Jennings discussed his own struggles with alcholism, and confessed to sneaking away and going to a gay club in West Hollywood.
“I was 14 years old, and too young to be out there late at night,” he said. “I was mugged, but I defended myself with a huge, white cast. But I was too young and too drunk to care.”
For Step 8, Jennings quickly listed about 18 first names, and promised to make amends, and in Step 12, he said the signature line, “Hi, my name’s Joey, and I’m an alcoholic.”
When the lights went out, several people were wiping away tears.
“Blueberry Milkshakes,” by Jessie Scales, discussed a DQ meeting in which her dad told her that her mother was in a coma. She was 12 years old.
Scales remembers seeing her father at the funeral.
“He looked tragic. He was a broken man,” she said. “That’s when I knew that my parents were in love.”
She talked about how she tried hard to win her dad’s love by being a scholastic overachiever.
“I had a 4.2 GPA,” she said. “I never want to get a 4.2 again.” Everyone clapped.
Scales incorporated a caterpillar-butterfly image to her own growth as an actor, a profession that her father rejected.
“Now that I have half a chance of becoming an actor,” Scales said. “If he wants to come around, I’ll be here.”
In her monologue, “Molly Adams Kissed Me on the Roof of Studio D,” Christine Woods discussed falling in love with another girl in summer camp.
“Molly had a lesbian haircut and wore converse shoes,” Woods said. “She reeked of coolness.”
Woods talked about “the moment” when Molly Adams kissed her on the rooftop.
“I was sick with confusion with this super attraction to her,” Woods confessed. “Then she kissed me, and our bodies were rolling around on that hard, sandpaper roof.”
She said later that it really wasn’t any different than kissing a guy.
After the summer was over, she changed at school. She even tried to form a gay-straight alliance, and came face-to-face with pure hatred.
Four football players came straight at her and said, “Get the fuck out of the hallway!”
“That’s why we need a gay-straight alliance,” Woods countered, with a couple of “fuck you’s over her shoulder.
Later that year, she even travelled 12 hours to visit Molly Adams, only to be rebuffed. She was horrified. She had changed her entire life around because of her love for this girl, and now she wasn’t interested anymore.
Woods recalled, “How could something so special to me be nothing to her?”
Then she realized something: “When Molly Adam kissed me, I changed,” Woods said. “That’s the summer that I learned to love.”
Shane Prentiss-Waltz’s “The Last Great American Dilettante,” showed his ability to laugh at himself. It started at age five when he wanted to be a dancer.
“Everything was spandex and sequins,” Prentice-Waltz said. “I was the eggplant, even though I was hoping for something better. But there I was in the limelight and being appreciated by strangers.”
“I think I’d always knew I’d play the violin …” Prentice-Waltz said to roars of laughter.
From dancer, to violinist, to karate master, to guitar player, to memoirist and finally theater, he talked about how he wanted to be nothing else.
“Karate is my life,” “Rock n’ Roll is my passion,” and “It’s always been theater,” were his claims.
Now that he’s been accepted to DePaul University, Prentice-Waltz has finally found something lasting in theater.
And then he switched from humor to a serious note:
“I’ve always been afraid of failure,” he said. “Not living up to people’s expectations.”
As a youngster, he made it to the finals of a math competition, yet was intimidated by all the math “geniuses” that he met.
“I was scared,” Prentice-Waltz said. “There was no way I could win this thing.”
So he faked throwing up and left the competition early. He was still a winner (of the regional math competition), he conceded, but then became a “dilettante,” or professional amateur.
He ended his monologue on a surreal note. In response to a reporter’s question, he said, “You’re not real! None of this is real!”
The final monologue was performed by Amenta Abioto entitled, ”Mommy’s Spices, Baba’s Drum.”
Abioto began by talking about how cold is is here and so far away from Memphis, her hometown.
“Why am I here being my half self, when I can be my full self in Memphis?” she asked.
She recalled a Kwanza celebration during Spring Break when everyone she knew was in West African attire and beckoning the spirits.
“I’ve got my father’s hands, his ears and his drum,” she said, as she played an impromptu solo on a bongo.
Abioto spoke of waking from a bad dream as a child and going into her parent’s bed for comfort.
“It felt so good spooning the two people who made me,” she said.
Then came the harsh reality of her parent’s separation, and the big differences between water and wood.
“Home is a reflection of the mind,” her mother would always tell her and her sisters.
“So we’d set off to clean the house, with water sloshing everywhere,” Abioto recalled. “Afterwards, mommy would make a splendid fried salmon for all of us to share.”
The food probably wasn’t the only thing that separated her parents, but it was the most obvious one.
“My father used to warn all of us about eating meat,” Abioto said. “You’ll get mean parasites in your boo-boo!”
But when he’d leave for his weekend gigs, her mother and sisters would order chicken wings dripping with hot sauce.
“We’d lock the doors, just in case he’d come back early,” Abioto said. “We’d be grubbin’ on hot wings. It was family.”
Then, one day, he came home early. They tried to hide the evidence, but he knew.
Her mother, she said, was like water, always wandering. They moved seven times during her childhood. While her father, was like bricks and old wood.
“In his house, there were stacks of books on Black Africa,” she said.
He even refused to let them see “Pocahontas.”
“It made the invasion of America look good,” he told them.
“Mother water, father wood. Mommy and Baba: my peoples,” Abioto concluded.
All seven came back onstage for final bows. Walking out from Rush in the dark, one couldn’t help but feel all the emotion that poured out from the stage that evening. It was really something.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Don’t miss their upcoming musical: “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” held May 21-23 at the Bowman Theater on the Idyllwild Arts campus. For more information, call (951) 659-2171 or visit www.idyllwildarts.org, and click on “Center Stage.”