
he
men of Sing Sing Correctional Facility recently gave three emotionally
powerful performances of Reality in Motion, a play produced under
the auspices of the not-for-profit organization, Rehabilitation Through
the Arts (RTA).
A MORALITY PLAY--AND THE MEN LOVED IT!
In an interview, Brent Buell (RTA’s civilian director) explained that
Reality in Motion is essentially a morality play, like the ones
performed all over Europe during the 1600s, where persons are drawn by
Satan into waywardness, then have an epiphany and reform. The play was
written in 1997 by inmates Frank Rivera, Dewey Bozella, Vince Warren,
and David Wayne Britton, with poetry by Robert Sanchez. It was updated
this year by Mr. Britton who was also co-director.
"It’s a terrific story," Buell said. "Shorty King (Vaughn Gilmore),
is a young man who becomes involved in gang life and ruthlessly works
his way to fortune by selling drugs for the mob. In the process, he
destroys everything he has cared for—his friends, his wife (civilian
actress, Amina Henry), his child, and his health—and decides to end his
life. Tony Tee (Jerry Ciari), the mobster Shorty has worked for, has a
near-death experience in which he sees the error of his ways. Through
Tony’s influence, Shorty decides not to kill himself, but instead to try
and educate young people to make better choices in life."
Buell laughed and said, "When our group first started rehearsing it,
I really wondered how this would work in front of an audience of
inmates. I had no worry about the action scenes--I knew they would like
those--but when it came to scenes about meeting a heavenly judge, people
beginning to reform, and ideas of goodness and wrong doing,
righteousness and redemption, I really wasn't sure how it was going to
fly."
He said he was quite concerned about Shorty's final soliloquy—a long
prayer in which he first blames God for his situation, and then sees
that he must take responsibility for his own actions. "I thought someone
might call out something funny or that people might think it was corny
in some way and start laughing. But I felt criticized for having
doubted," Buell confided. "Every night it was amazing. The inmate
audience didn't miss a beat. They were completely into it. In those last
scenes, that house was so silent you could practically hear the tears
dropping."
Buell explained that this was due to the good writing, and to the
fact that all three nights Vaughn Gilmore as Shorty did a masterful job
with the scenes that called for going from toughness to tenderness,
crying to laughing, and back again. "He got to that relation of humor
and tragedy that was needed, and the guys loved it. There's a spot where
he’s about to kill himself with heroin, and he tells some junkies to get
away from him. They start to leave and then he says 'Wait a minute. Why
don't you guys go and try and clean up your lives.' The audience went
crazy, just clapping and cheering. That tells you something about the
humanity of people on the inside."
[columns/ad_middle.htm]ABOUT
REHABILITATION THROUGH THE ARTS
RTA was founded six years ago by Katherine Vockins, a successful
businesswoman living in Westchester, whose husband had begun to teach
theology in Sing Sing. She came inside to see what her husband was doing
and was so affected by what she saw that when some inmates said they
wanted to start an acting workshop, she said, "Let's do it!" From a very
modest beginning with six men and hardly any structure, RTA has grown to
a program with nearly fifty men and a steady staff of volunteers.
"Katherine Vockins is a miracle worker," stated Buell. "The men rightly
trust her, because there’s no one who more believes in them and fights
for their rights than she. She’s an inspiration to us all—the kind of
person you’d like to be."
The purpose of RTA is to have men see that through studying drama and
acting, many of the issues that resulted in their incarceration can be
faced directly and indirectly. "In playing a role, they learn to become
another person," Buell explained, "which is, for some of them, the first
time they've really thought about another person as anywhere near real.
Everybody, even if they're doing a short walk-on part, has to write a
whole bio of the person they are enacting so they know who this
person is. They write their character's life history--who his mother and
father were, what fears and hopes he has, the whole thing."
He said that as men first come into the program their spirit of
cooperation with other inmates is not the dominant thing. In prison a
man has to watch his back all the time. "But," continued Buell, "RTA is
a safe place. You can come here and be yourself. There is no such thing
as trying something in a part and it being bad. It may not be right for
the play, but it's not bad, you should try it, you should experiment and
find out what you can do. Guys in our program really become a
family—they are for each other, hoping every guy succeeds. It’s
something you rarely find in theater on the outside."
CHANGED LIVES
Buell talked about the phenomenal success of RTA. "You're never going
to have a person believe in themselves just by telling them they're
wonderful, because they don't believe it themselves. But if they can see
that they have really accomplished something that had a positive effect
on other people--something they thought they couldn't do but found out
they could do through art--talk about building self-esteem! They
walk away as changed people. I’ve seen grown men cry when they realized
they could have that kind of good power."
Buell continued, "I’ve watched people change in such dramatic ways
over a short period of time—I’m talking about people who came in with
reputations—and who now are people you’d be glad to have as your
next-door neighbor." He concluded, "That’s why rehabilitation programs
are so important and society should back them 100%. Someday, people in
prison are going to be your next-door neighbors, people in your
community. What would you prefer—someone who’s sat in prison and just
gotten angrier, or someone who’s spent his years inside becoming a
better person?"
Rehabilitation Through the Arts seeks funding to expand their
experimental program. Any and all contributions are gratefully accepted.
Checks can be made out to Prison Communities International, 12 Huntville
Road, Katonah, NY 10536, Attn: Katherine Vockins, Program Director. PCI
is a tax-exempt, not-for-profit organization.