****A "CENTRAL TEXT" IN NEW YORK STATE'S COMMON CORE CURRICULUM****
Want to try reader's theater but don't know where to start? Or have you tried it but want to find ways to bring it more to life? Or are you just looking for a fun, easy way to lure young people into reading fluency, cooperative effort, effective communication, and love of literature?
"Readers on Stage" is a collection of resources for scripting, directing, and teaching reader's theater, primarily to ages 8 and up. Part 1 offers three sample scripts to learn from and enjoy: "The Legend of...
****A "CENTRAL TEXT" IN NEW YORK STATE'S COMMON CORE CURRICULUM****
Want to try reader's theater but don't know where to start? Or hav...
A thousand years ago, in the Celtic kingdoms of Wales, great lords gave great feasts for their fighting men and courtiers. In timbered halls, for days on end, heaps of meat and bread were washed down with gallons of beer and mead. And in between the meals, when bellies were stuffed and spirits high, the storyteller rose and spun his tales of times long past.
He told of lords, bold and generous. He told of ladies, grand and glorious. He told of friends, brave and faithful. But of all he told about, no friend was more reliable than Manawydan, son of Llyr. No lady was...
A thousand years ago, in the Celtic kingdoms of Wales, great lords gave great feasts for their fighting men and courtiers. In timbered halls, for d...
Not so long ago, in the tiny, isolated villages of Finland, where prolonged summer days gave way to endless winter nights, people would pass the time by singing the many adventures of their favorite heroes: the mighty, magical men and women of ancient days.
They sang of old Vainamoinen, greatest of sages and magicians, who helped create the world but never could find a woman to wed him. They sang of his friend and ally Ilmarinen, first among craftsmen, the blacksmith who forged the dome of the heavens.
They sang of Louhi, the ancient lady...
Not so long ago, in the tiny, isolated villages of Finland, where prolonged summer days gave way to endless winter nights, people would pass the ti...
The storyteller stands beside the fire, swaying, dancing, miming, singing, reciting. With one hand he shakes a gourd rattle, with the other he swings a conga -- a flyswatter made with a buffalo tail on a wooden handle. Anklet bells tinkle as he moves. Three young men beat a wooden drum with sticks.
Listening to him is a crowd of men, women, and children. They sing along at a song's refrain, they repeat whole lines of the story when he pauses to see if they're paying attention. They encourage him with little shouts, whoops, claps. Food and drink are passed...
The storyteller stands beside the fire, swaying, dancing, miming, singing, reciting. With one hand he shakes a gourd rattle, with the other he swin...
If you think Superman or Spiderman has been around a long time, think about Monkey. He has been China's favorite superhero for at least five centuries. He's amazingly strong, he can fly, and he has a few tricks those other superheroes never heard of. And he's always ready to do battle with demons, dragons -- sometimes even the gods.
Monkey stars in The Journey to the West, an epic comic fantasy from the sixteenth century. The part retold here is about Monkey's origin and early career -- and the one time he didn't come out on top.
If you think Superman or Spiderman has been around a long time, think about Monkey. He has been China's favorite superhero for at least five ce...
The lights dim, and a weighty silence falls upon the audience. From all over Europe and America, these fifteen hundred men and women have come to spend many days in this small German town and many hours in this theater. Some are merely curious. Some are there because it's the fashion. But many have come out of devotion to the musical dramas of a composer they revere, almost worship -- a composer who himself designed and built the theater they sit in. To them, this theater is a temple, and their journey a pilgrimage.
For a full minute or more, they wait solemnly in...
The lights dim, and a weighty silence falls upon the audience. From all over Europe and America, these fifteen hundred men and women have come to s...
It is 2:00 in the morning and most of our men are asleep in their dugouts -- yet I could not sleep myself before writing to you of the wonderful events of Christmas Eve. In truth, what happened seems almost like a fairy tale, and if I hadn't been through it myself, I would scarce believe it. Just imagine: While you and the family sang carols before the fire there in London, I did the same with enemy soldiers here on the battlefields of France
The Christmas Truce of 1914 is one of...
Christmas Day, 1914
My dear sister Janet,
It is 2:00 in the morning and most of our men are asleep...