At the request of some of our younger Sanditon Potterheads, we will be mounting a kids squad this year. Because of our small numbers at the moment, they’ll be practicing with us. So:
New rule in effect: if you are too drunk to pronounce Expelliarmus without slurring, don’t come to practice.
The existing pants rule will now be enforced. Seriously.
In an unrelated note, we’d be very interested if any lawyers, nurses, and/or elementary school teachers wanted to join the team. Before we do something like scar the kids for life. Or end up in jail.
This post is amazing. This whole Sanditon thing is amazing. Possibly rambly vlog about my excitement about Sanditon to come tonight.
Not because it’s my birthday though. Because I stayed up too late watching terrible TV who’s surprised I’m not.
Also cause of this cough which should go away please.
First Saturday at the Brooklyn Museum was magical. It was exactly what museums should be all the time, what they possibly could be if they got some of the funding that currently goes to public schools so we can lock our kids up all day. Let’s instead make museums and other public spaces amazing and beautiful and vibrant and then let our kids go learn glorious things.
But that’s a tangent. The way that this particular museum visit made me heart sing with the possibilities that a compulsory-school-less society might offer is a topic for another day.
Here’s what First Saturday is, if you don’t feel like clicking on that link: the museum, instead of closing as it usually does on Saturday evenings, is open and free from 5pm-11pm. There are all sorts of special activities going on: music, “pop-up gallery talks”, hands on activities, miniature theater performances, and more. It’s sponsored by Target, but in a thoroughly non-obnoxious way.
And here’s why it was magical: first, it was just the first time I’ve been to a museum since witnessing an interesting conversation about the purpose of museums on Emily Graslie’s twitter feed. So that was on my mind, and colored my experience in an interesting way.
Second, I discovered towards the end of my wanderings in the museum that they have a room of visual storage. I’ve been into one of these before, perhaps at the Met, perhaps somewhere else… I do not remember where, only that it is incredible. The overflow of a museum collection. Just things, assigned a number, with none of the usual text that accompanies items in a museum, no context or information unless you go searching for it. Spoons and chairs and stacks of legos and jewelry and a One Laptop Per Child laptop arranged carefully but without pomp, blocking one another from view or reposing in a back corner where few will see them, in glass cases.
And third, the impromptu theater. This is specific to First Saturday, and it was the event in my evening that caused the heart-singing. I was wandering through the fifth floor, almost done with my evening, when I am suddenly standing at the edge of a scene being performed by two people, right in the middle of the gallery. Museum visitors stand and watch, or rush awkwardly through the room. The scene morphs and changes as it needs to to accommodate all the other people who are on its “stage”. And in the background, you can hear another scene happening just in the next gallery. This was obviously planned, easy to find on the evenings schedule of events, but the feeling of it was still people making art for arts sake, unconcerned about the number of people who were staying to watch or passing right on by without another thought. One of the actors from that scene switched with one of the actors from the other scene, and I followed her to watch the second one. And it was magical.