People Profile: Kelly & Bob Borwick

This article was originally published in the Daily Post Athenian in Athens, Tennessee on June 20, 2017.

Bob tells me he’s been watching Ken Burns and I hope he’s about to pitch me on a “Jazz age” theatre camp. I’m pretty confident it won’t be about the Civil War, and baseball seems equally unlikely. So, I daydream a Satchmo trumpet riff and start thinking about logos.

Then I hear it. “The worst man-made ecological disaster. The Midwest. The Dust Bowl.” Bob says with a maniacal smile.

“The Dust Bowl?” I question. Kelly catches the reticence in my glance and elbows an “I told you so, Bob.”

Bob proceeds to stir up dust, waxing on with grand arm gestures and bright eyes about an epic backdrop, a catastrophic dust storm created solely from the movement and speech of the campers, and a morality tale set amidst a perilous drought; all told from the point of view of children.

Bob has a propensity to inspire enthusiasm, and Kelly, a measured realist, a tendency to reassure. In seconds Bob has made me excited about a Dust Bowl play, and Kelly’s shown me its significance.

I say “OK” but their silence tells me they’re not convinced I’m convinced. “Seriously,” I urge, “you two know I’d follow you anywhere.”

Now, I was raised by actors and spent a majority of my own childhood summers at theatre camp, so I know the golden rule of improv is to always say: “Yes, and.”

The reason I find myself always saying “yes” to Bob and Kelly, runs deeper than simply upholding an actor’s creed.

Bob Borwick and Kelly Balch Borwick are the real deal. They are card-carrying Actors’ Equity professionals with an impressive resume of performance and teaching credits. We are fortunate that their desire to raise their daughters in a small community brought them from the West Coast back to Kelly’s home.

I cannot deny that a large part of why I faithfully embrace their ideas is that I know regardless of theatre camp theme, the twenty-five lucky participants will have an incredible experience. In ten days they learn how to use their voices and bodies on stage, how to create characters and scenes, and not only that, but they learn methodologies and techniques most actors are not introduced to until college, if at all. The knowledge, passion, and experience Bob and Kelly bring to camp, paired with that of their partner Pam Thigpen, plus her songwriting panache, make the staff a veritable dream team.

That’s still not the heart of why I find myself always saying “yes,” though. I realized, having coffee with Bob and Kelly, last week, the essence of my “yes” is actually pretty simple.

Bob set the tone for repartee immediately with this introduction: “Well, I spend a lot of time alone at night because Kelly is always at ballet, so that’s when I can watch TV.”

He recounted being spellbound by Burns’ storytelling through compelling photographs, period music, and interviews with survivors. The narrative point of view of the interviewees was particularly fascinating to Bob. At the time of production, the individuals were in or around their late 80s speaking of their experience of a catastrophic event as a young child.

Bob noted that in most of the interviews the adult narrator is overcome by – “the point of view of the eight year-old self.” That’s Kelly finishing his sentence.

We talk for a few moments about their editorial process. Bob pours his whole self into a script and, essentially, bares his soul before Kelly who is “brutal” in her constructive feedback. They laugh at Bob’s adjective and Kelly says “Come on though, do you really need 15 words to describe one flower?”

Bob and Kelly tell different parts of the story. Bob is an idea man – he has the epic vision and the enthusiasm to carry the story. Kelly focuses on and refines the details to convey that story or, as Bob puts it “Kelly finds the heart of things and helps me make it mean something.”

I’ve long described Bob and Kelly’s working relationship, and their camp leadership as “magical.” The root of that magic is that they trust each other. Completely.

They trust Pam Thigpen, too. “Pam also understands the heart of things,“ Bob said, “and, what’s more she makes it accessible and fun through music.” Each year Bob and Kelly are amazed that they can hand Ms. Pammy a script and say “here,” and let her turn it into a show with a perfect progression of songs.

But, when July 10 comes around and twenty five young thespians walk through the doors of the Sue E. Trotter Black Box Theater, it could all change. That’s the most beautiful part of all this to me – the camp production is truly organic theatre, and Bob, Kelly, and Pam trust the young actors to tell their story.

A focus on the ensemble is a fundamental principle in this leadership’s approach to camp. Camp productions are not a vehicle for a leading player, but instead offer equal opportunity for all to participate in the production, which reinforces a humbling priority for an actor – that a show is for the audience, not the performer.

A second guiding principle of theatre camp is that the students create the atmosphere of the show instead of relying on tech. Encouraging the students to tell a story completely with their bodies and voices allows them to learn and experience the essence of acting and performance.

Somewhere in the process, whether they realize it or not, they’re learning that to trust is an empowering gift.

For example, last year’s show was a cautionary tale about the influence of technology – particularly on young people – and how devices and social media are an obstacle to living life. In the final scene the main character (an archetypal main character played by at least five different actors over the course of the show) finds himself in his video game, fighting a dragon. The metaphorical dragon is, of course, technology and social media, the literal dragon is a living, breathing beast built from the limbs of approximately twenty theatre campers.

“We could have very well fallen on our faces.” Bob says recounting the risk of staging that scene. “It wasn’t until the last day that it finally ‘clicked,’” echoed Kelly.

It clicked because Bob and Kelly were able to release their fear of “what if it’s terrible,” embrace the unknown, and trust the kids.

And it was far from terrible. I literally had goosebumps watching Seth Nelson battle the giant beast of bodies as it weaved across the stage – sound effects and all produced solely by the actors on stage.

My goosebumps were due not only to the gripping display on stage, but also were a result of the realization that this scene was the culmination of a trust journey.

Campers come to theatre camp expecting to have fun and learn about acting. The skills they learn and practice are advanced enough to help them prepare to study theatre beyond high school, and the experience they have creating a piece of theatre is second to none for actors their age in our area.

Watching from my seat in the executive director’s chair, it’s evident that theatre camp teaches these young actors – and their instructors – far more than they might expect.

Bob and Kelly bravely put their creative process – and partnership – on display as they create and recreate a show over the course of a two week camp. It’s sometimes tense and sometimes comical watching them deliberate in the moment. Their creative disputes are an added bonus for campers as far as I’m concerned, and, as I told them, it’s healthy for the young actors to watch two adults engage in discourse in a respectful, productive way.

Watching Bob, Kelly, and Pam create and refine a show, the young actors learn how to communicate with one another in an effective way, even if they don’t always agree. They learn to trust one another and embrace the process of creating.

Watching the young actors bring life to their vision, Bob, Kelly, and Pam learn to let go of the terrible “what ifs,” trust the campers, and welcome the possibility that the end result may just astound.