All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

After four years, All I Need To Know, I Learned In Kindergarten returns to the Aurora Fox bursting with life.

Dan Dobbins, Jan Giese and Sue Leiser star in All I Need To Know, I Learned In Kindergarten at the Aurora Fox.

With a stage covered in blackboards of various sizes and colors, designed by Joan Cimyotte, and a piano that stands up and talks, sings and dances under the magical fingers of Dan Dobbins, the staged production based on Robert Fulghum’s best selling book, warms the senses and tickles the imagination with reminders of what was learned in Kindergarten.

Director Bev Newcomb-Madden has guided the talented cast with breath-taking aliveness through the 22 songs of what was learned, lost, not learned, and perhaps forgotten from Kindergarten through old age. The bigger than life cast includes: Aggie Bauer, Fran Bauer, Suzanne Connors Nepi, Jan Giese, Sue Leiser, Mark J. Middlebrooks, and Chris Whyde.

What does the sand box generation learn? Share, play fair, don’t hit anyone, put things back where you found them, clean up your own mess, don’t take things that aren’t yours, say you’re sorry when you hurt someone, wash your hands before you eat, flush, warm cookies and milk are good for you, learn some, think some, draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day, take a nap in the afternoon, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together, be aware of wonder, gold fish, hamsters, white mice die, and so do we, and the biggest word of all: look.

Through charming narration, toe-tapping music, colorful lyrics, the cast looks at these vital elements of socialized behavior and ponders what happened? How complicated life becomes when grown up concerns squish fundamentals out of the way.

The beloved fairy tale of Cinderella is played through the eyes of five-year-old Norman, who sees things differently. The bright-eyed bushy-tailed youngsters all know who they want to be. Then there’s Norman. He wants to be the pig. There is no pig in Cinderella. There is now. Because of Norman’s tenacity, and a “versioned” teacher, the Cinderella production becomes a pint sized Tony Award winner with a dancing, barking pig.

With the wisdom of the ages sitting on her shoulder, Sue remembers when in playing Hide And Seek, there is always one who doesn’t want to be found, then gets mad because he isn’t found. In a twist of poignancy, she takes it one step further to the logic induced adult who plays Hide And Seek in a different fashion: discovers terminal cancer and doesn’t tell anyone.

In a cocoon made out of a bathrobe, Jan, with sniffles in her head and heart, complains to Chris on the phone of a clutching cold and depressing miserable life, probing what would he do. For Chris, the answer is simple: Beethoven. In a near showstopper, Chris throws himself into Beethoven and the 9th Symphony. After that performance, how anyone could complain about a miserable cold again is beyond me. That one performance has the power behind it to cure complaining and depression forever.

Chris changes gears instantaneously to portray Donny, a deaf boy, soliciting work to rake leaves. He’s good he says in his note he gives to Fran, who has just lamented his own dilemma. He sees beauty in leaves. His wife does not. Leaves are not to be seen or heard. This year, they have reached a compromise. Half the yard will be raked, half won’t. Each will have their way. That is until Donny arrives at the door. Fran struggles with his resolve. $3.00 is all Donny is asking to rake the huge lawn. Fran learns a great deal from this young man who can neither speak nor hear, but understands the huge concept: work ethic.,/p>

In Problems and Inconveniences, Mark, Fran and Chris play out the frustrations of wanting what we want when we want it and biting nails when we can’t have everything go our way. Then we meet someone who survived Auschwitz. Perspective has a way of suppressing the sting of selfishness.

In a flawless delicious chorus, the cast flies through a cantata of Uh-Oh’s and words not found in the dictionary but the adult mind uses all of the time. Their timing and expressions are awesome, because the only keyword they have to go on is “uh-oh.” Not a time to think about what you’re going to do after the show. Miss a cue and it’s all over. They don’t.

This production allows the brain to tingle with funny and not so funny thoughts about how different the world would be from every day home life to the highest political clandestine summit if warm cookies and cold milk were served every afternoon at 3:00 PM, and everyone cleaned up their own mess.

The mystical, magical cast of All I Really Need To Know, with astute direction, offers pointed thoughts and warm fuzzies, of which there are never enough.

I could go on, but I think I will begin to remember my Kindergarten lessons, and try a nap on for size.