When less is certainly more
By Simon Dawson, parent
On possibly the first truly beautiful Spring morning of 2009, Purple Class took to the Friday morning assembly stage for the last time.
Two masked and silent sentries to stage right and left set the tone, heads bowed to the rhythm but nodding towards the feast of choreography, dance, mime, interactive theatre, gymnastics and audience participation that was to come. All to a musical backdrop that, your correspondent could not help noticing, did much to keep feet tapping across the generations of assembly goers present.
Purple class had become a masked collective, a moody, monochrome mob whose members prowled, stalked, joked and above all danced their way around the stage in a variety of routines that invoked sorrow and joy in equal measure. Hiding behind their masks – except in one instance to give marshmallows launched by audience participants a fighting chance to hit their target – Purple class took collective responsibility for the effort and talent on show, proving at the moment it bowed out of assembly duty the value of one unified voice. Indeed, it is hard to imagine that Purple class voices have ever stayed quite so silent yet said so much.