Feathers in the Snow (Modern Plays)

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Ms. Johnson: The sixth-grade teacher who inspires Frannie to work on her writing. She is supportive and encouraging to the students, and allows the students to be themselves. She is strict but productive. His gaze fell upon a modest pouch resting among the wardrobe’s contents. Despite its humble appearance - weathered leather with traces of faded embroidery - the small bag held a magical charm. It was enchanted to carry an array of items, defying the limitations suggested by its small stature. Phoebe walked in quietly, almost scared of breaking the moment, to hand them two cups of warm cocoa and disappear again. Feathers opens with a glorious explosion, immdiately arresting the audience. The company’s powerful tones fill the theatre, and actors face all directions, taking us all in. Although I knew it was a play for predominantly for children, I was immersed instantly.
The story rapidly unfolds and the cast have a colossal presence – their energy reaches out to us in our seats. This soaring energy works wonders on the children watching, as it does on us all. Sometimes, our minds will drift away from the action straight in front of us. This is often nothing to do with the skill of the actor, it can simply be due to having a big ‘to do’ list tapping at our shoulder. However, the actors in this production don’t allow this to happen, especially in Act One.

Jesus Boy knows sign language which intrigues Frannie since she has known sign language her whole life. Frannie has grown up with a deaf older brother, and is very sensitive to how people treat and perceive him. She is hesitant about being friends with Jesus Boy because she does not understand him and wonders why he would cross over "the bridge" to their side. She is torn because she knows how difficult it can be to be the new kid, but she does not want to stand out. Frannie's best friend Samantha believes that Jesus Boy truly is Jesus Christ and that he has come in this time of chaos and because of the war. During all that is going on Frannie constantly thinks of the poem she read in class that said "Hope is the thing with feathers". Anyway having large, gleaming, golden wings pretty much annihilated rule number one. Not just annihilated it - it obliterated it, pulverized it, and then danced on its remains. Hmm, I don't want to film again, I want to go home…" John whined and kissed his wife's cheek in a public demonstration of affection that wasn't usual for him, but he needed so much right now. He thought she was the prettiest even with that big coat and fluffy hat, with her long lashes and red cheeks that bloomed on her pale skin, making her look like a porcelain doll. This story was supposed to be 4/4 sbi and Mumza. Never planned for Clementine to be a part of it... but Tommy was trying to find a place to hide, Clem had a tree house... and she kinda just barged in? If she does not manage to do the same again, though she might be mentioned in upcoming chapters, I do not have plans for a reappearance.Their caws echoed through the square, mingling with the chatter of townsfolk and the clatter of dishes. Despite the cool air, these crows were lively, darting among the bare trees and gathering around the mossy fountain, their eyes shining with a mischievous spark.

Contrary to what anyone might say, he did not jump or yelp in surprise. Any suggestions otherwise were lies and slander! With the dignified calm befitting the big man he was, Tommy glanced down to see what creature was nuzzling against his legs. His eyes were greeted by an unexpected sight of feathers. A cascade of golden feathers, gleaming in the soft light, enveloped him like a regal cloak. Such an ornate covering would make blending into the surroundings a challenging task. Exhaling an irritated sigh, Tommy could feel the feathered cloak give an odd twitch. This is one of those productions that looks simply-staged with not much more than a bare floor and the audience on three sides, but it is a complex mix in which design (Simon Kenny), lighting (Gary Bowman) and choreography (Yael Loewenstein) all contribute considerably under David Mercatall’s direction to create a show that is a positive joy. Oh, how inconsiderate of me. You can call me Phil,” he announced, his voice smooth and warm. Tommy didn’t trust it. Something about Phil unsettled him. “And you?” Aimed at family audiences, this is fairy tale on an epic scale—except there aren’t any fairies. There is nothing pretty-pretty about it either, though there is beauty. It is a fairytale that might have been told by Brecht or Voltaire. It is funny and human but it looks the harshness of life in the face.

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Ah, your parents might not appreciate a stranger spending the night here,” Tommy hedged. In truth, he wasn’t overly concerned about if people approved of him seeking refuge on their property... but he was hoping to find a slightly warmer place. Maybe somewhere he could scrounge up some food? Covering over five hundred years - and with a huge cast - it explores how stories give meaning to random events and of our constant need to find somewhere we call 'home' Stepping away from the tree initially offering him some semblance of concealment, Tommy felt an unexpected sensation brush against his legs. It was fleeting, like a whisper of a touch, but it was enough to startle him. Phil’s eyes, previously as calm and inviting, underwent a chilling transformation. The pleasant azure hue darkened, morphing into a deep, dangerous shade more akin to the stormy seas than precious gemstones. It took every ounce of Phil’s self-control to maintain his composure, to keep his expression neutral as these chilling words poured over him like a sudden deluge of ice-cold water. A gnawing sense of disbelief began to claw at him. Had he misinterpreted the situation so grossly? Was Tommy’s apparent warmth actually a facade masking mounting fear?