On a rainy Saturday
afternoon last month, I escorted my twin nine-year-old boys and one of their
friends to Berkeley Rep’s new Osher Theater, where we’d purchased tickets to
see Tales of Olympus. Even though
December is the busiest month of all and I had a ton of other things to
accomplish, I was thrilled to be taking them to this debut musical – not that I
let on to that, though; I knew my best bet was to act blasé about it. I’ve
learned not to project my hopes and interests onto my children. That will get
me absolutely nowhere. My plan was to covertly observe their expressions during
the show – just in case, you know – they weren’t willing to say much afterward.
They are nine after all – big fourth-graders who aren’t as eager to reveal
their innermost thoughts and preferences like they once were.
Have I mentioned that my boys are highly energetic and active? They’re not exactly inclined to sit quietly for short periods, let alone what they might perceive to be lengthy, so once we were seated (very nicely by a staff member, I might add, who didn’t appear peeved in the least that we were five minutes late), I exhaled and crossed my fingers until intermission, when not one of my charges asked to leave. I smiled inside and gave myself a mental high five. In the corridor, where the boys munched on cookies, I pretended not to overhear their conversations. “Who do you like best in the play?” one of them asked. “Hermes is my favorite,” answered one. “Jason is mine,” said another. “But I like Zeus too.”
Have I mentioned that my boys are highly energetic and active? They’re not exactly inclined to sit quietly for short periods, let alone what they might perceive to be lengthy, so once we were seated (very nicely by a staff member, I might add, who didn’t appear peeved in the least that we were five minutes late), I exhaled and crossed my fingers until intermission, when not one of my charges asked to leave. I smiled inside and gave myself a mental high five. In the corridor, where the boys munched on cookies, I pretended not to overhear their conversations. “Who do you like best in the play?” one of them asked. “Hermes is my favorite,” answered one. “Jason is mine,” said another. “But I like Zeus too.”
The three of them huddled in
a corner together, one rapping the way Hermes had done earlier on stage, the
other two singing Don’t Swallow The
Babies, a rollicking fun song that Zeus had just performed.
Did the playwright have my
boys in mind when he wrote Tales of
Olympus? All three of my small attendees were captivated from the
beginning, following the action with huge, engaged eyes. They laughed and
cheered right along with Jason (a “bard” in training), and related to his
reluctance, never catching on to the fact that they were learning about Greek mythology
at the same time.
![]() |
The Olympus cast tells the story of Jason and the Golden Fleece. |
“I wish I could fly!” one of
my twins exclaimed after the play ended. “I wish I could go to Mount Olympus!”
said his brother. Their friend, typically more reserved than my boys, declared
his desire to go back in time, like Jason had. Collectively, they discussed
their delight with the way Jason told the Golden Fleece story. “But the Icarus
story was so cool, too! And Zeus’s!”
When cast members greeted
them immediately after the show and autographed complimentary posters, the boys
held back smiles and did their best to act nonchalant – but once inside our
car, they compared signatures and commented on Aphrodite’s beauty and Athena’s
funny sarcasm.
Although I tried not to ask
questions on the way home, I couldn’t resist at least one: “What was your
favorite part?” My oldest twin answered quickly. “That’s hard to say, Mom, it
was all so good! Very adventurous and exciting. I’m going to tell everyone in
my class to go!”
It wasn’t until the next day
that I discovered the actor who played Hermes is also the writer of the musical.
When I shared this fact with my sons, their eyes became as huge as they were
during the show. “Are you serious? How did he do that?!”
I wasn’t sure how to answer
adequately enough (although plenty of thoughts came to mind: Min Kahng clearly
has a great imagination, he’s supremely talented, and hardworking), but
instead, we all just shook our heads in deep admiration and decided where to hang up their posters.
---
Cynthia House Nooney has recently joined the board of Bay Area Children's Theatre.
---
Cynthia House Nooney has recently joined the board of Bay Area Children's Theatre.