Old West still pretty wild
....By Bill Whitaker
When it comes to coordinating a cast of hundreds - some not
even human - chaos can and will prevail.
That was evident during a Monday night rehearsal of the Fort Griffin
Fandangle, our area's beloved musical pageant chronicling this
land's rough-and-ready pioneer heritage. The show opens its two-weekend
run at dusk tonight at the Prairie Theater in Albany. (Call 762-3642
or 762-3838 for reservations.)
Expect things to run smoothly - they usually do. Even so, a few
nights ago something close to pandemonium was in the air.
At one point, a calf that was supposed to run across the dusty
amphitheater and get itself lassoed decided instead to make for
the area where the audience will sit tonight. The wayward calf
then scrambled for the closest thing resembling a hill.
If the rambunctious bovine enjoyed its offstage stardom, it didn't
for long. Real cowboys were hot in pursuit.
"Believe me, all this will run very smoothly the night before
the show opens," Fort Griffin Fandangle assistant director
Chance Mitchell said halfway through Monday night's rehearsal.
"Everybody will be deadly serious."
Chance is probably right, especially since Betsy Parsons - the
show's no-nonsense director - was bellowing out directions right
and left to rugged cowboys, oilfield hands, city fathers and patient
neighbors playing various roles. You might've thought she was
somebody's worst drill sergeant.
But everyone sure listened to her.
Hard-nosed direction was a necessity: Monday night was the first
rehearsal this season where horsemen got to try out their fancy
riding skills. Besides that, there were 200 children to coordinate,
a longhorn herd to oversee and a range fire that was putting the
heat on the special effects crew.
Before the first half of the show is done, a singing cowboy even
gets lynched - surely a high point for folks who can't stand Gene
Autry, Roy Rogers and Sons of the Pioneers.
With prospects strong for continued drought, the Fandangle's range
fire - a premiere of sorts - may be among our best prospects for
fireworks this summer. Certainly, the special effects team has
it down perfect (or "well-done," as one wag remarked).
They've staged it so many times they had to go back and paint
all the dead grass green.
Someone guessed there were more children in this year's Fandangle
than ever before. That's a testament to the town pageant's continuing
popularity, but it also poses certain challenges for directors.
"They all want to be in it," assistant director Doyleen
Terrell said. "And have you ever tried to quiet 200 children?"
"The ultimate challenge is getting 200 children in a straight
line," Chance added.
As for the part where longhorn cattle are paraded out into the
spotlight and serenaded by starlight - one of the show's highlights
- everyone was again ready for the worst.
"Well, they need the practice," Betsy said of the feisty
cattle after someone suggested postponing their scene till later.
"But you need to get out of the way because, well, they don't
take direction too well."
If this year's Fort Griffin Fandangle seems more intricate than
usual, it's because the folks who run it are always anxious to
try something new. For instance, this year there's a rousing Indian
raid on pioneer households, accompanied by lots of screaming from
Albany High lass (and normally low-key) Keren Liming.
But special effects whiz Glen Bartee seems to be the star of this
year's show. In past Fandangles he's rigged up oil rigs that blow
out and clouds that burst. This year he offers a bona fide lightning
bolt that sets the rangeland afire, all while rancher Harold Law
cackles devilishly in the distance.
Monday night, one could see the pressure mounting on Glen.
While Albany's version of Jove was up on a hillside rigging his
lightning, he complained to his charges how easy producers of
"Texas," the Fandangle's chief open-air rival up in
Palo Duro Canyon, had it.
"I mean, when they rig lightning," he said, "they've
at least got a canyon wall to do it on!"
"Well, you got a machine shop," one of Glen's compadres
quipped. "Why don't you just build a canyon wall?"
That's a dangerous thing to say in this "can-do" crowd.
Now you can e-mail Bill Whitaker at WTWARN@aol.com.
Send a Letter to the Editor about This
Story | Start or Join A Discussion about This Story
Send the URL (Address)
of This Story to A Friend:
Copyright ©1996 or
1997, Abilene Reporter-News / Texnews / E.W. Scripps. Publications
|