Not Just a Role Model
By George Poulakis
When I sat with George Huitker, I spoke to him about art, sport and charity, and how he mixes those things together in a way that works.
George Huitker, local poet, playwright, composer, coach, director and actor, guides me through the maze that is Radford College. Yes, to add to his already impressive CV, George also teaches Drama and English. As we pass groups of students, it quickly becomes apparent that he is more than just a role model to these kids. “Yo H.” one student says, “I’m working on that assignment, I swear.” George stops to have a quick chat with another student, who he convinces to play footy in Yass on the weekend. The kid is more than happy to help.
These students see “H” as a friend. While he admits that sometimes the lines can be blurred, he somehow manages to maintain a balance of friendship, respect and authority. “I can’t remember the last time I really raised my voice in class,” he says. George was brought up with the notion that teachers were required to maintain a vast distance from their students. But he doesn’t think the world needs such a corporate approach to learning. He has always just been himself, and has taken the good and the bad with that. “I’m suspicious of people who use authority to achieve an end.”
We arrive at an oddly shaped room. “I bet you’ve never seen an office this shape before,” George says, anticipating my bemusement. At a second glance I notice its triangular shape. “Only at Radford,” he laughs. George’s unique little office is filled with numerous bits and pieces that capture his personality; a Wiggles dancing guitar- if anyone refuses to do an air guitar routine on it he knows they won’t get on, and a traced picture of Superman that George was given as a young teacher from a student, just before he died. “Both these objects remind me of the power, honesty and fragility of childhood. I think you need to retain a bit of each of these as a ‘grown-up’.”
At this point, George offers me a coffee, only to realize that somebody has stolen the kettle. So, ignoring the craving for coffee that’s as acute as the corner we sit in, we have a nice cup of water instead, and chat about the past few weeks. Having always just assumed that he would be a teacher, after graduating from the ANU, George indeed went straight into teaching. “Since about the first or second grade, I thought, I can do that. I don’t know if that’s because my teachers were crummy.” So, for better or worse, he has been around young people all his life, which he enjoys, because they keep him fresh and creative, and always keep him questioning. But teaching isn’t his only passion.
A large part of George’s creative outlet is theatre. His company, Huitker Movement Theatre, has become more of a charity arm in recent years. This has given him a chance to take a break of sorts, while still performing regularly, and giving all takings to charity – something he is very passionate about. But prior to the charity gigs, HMT was responsible for many innovative shows, including damage, Dealer’s Choice, Harry’s Christmas, The Learning Curve and Misery. But after his final production, Not Just Footy, George made the conscious decision to take a break. “Not Just Footy was a hard play to follow up on because of its personal nature,” says George of this autobiographical piece, which captures the legacy his father left him as a parent and as a coach.
It was almost like the end of an era. Actors like Jordan Prosser and Jake Fraser were getting older. The kids were entering into new phases. So George decided that while he was relatively young, he wanted to give sport another go. This would give him a chance to test the things he wrote about in Not Just Footy. “Sport and drama are exactly the same,” says George. Just like the theatre, there are many variable that affect a player’s performance. “You’ve even got your stage mums on the sidelines and in the wings,” he adds.
George treats every game like a performance. When his team is playing well – not necessarily winning – it feels very artistic to him. “You have to treat your players and performers with respect. Work on their strengths. The process is the same. The difference is that you don’t get the chance to evolve in a role as an actor as much as you do in sport. You don’t get a grant as an actor. You get a contract for a show, which only lasts for a limited amount of time. Whereas if the arts could get into the sports way of thinking and provide performers in whatever field with grants to develop beyond…” George contemplates. “The problem is that Canberra doesn’t sustain professional performers. Unless you’re prepared to be a grants writer, producing your own shows just isn’t feasible.”
But George just can’t keep himself off the stage. After spending the last three years observing the theatre scene from afar, and getting a feel for where the bar is set, George is finally ready to get back into the scene. If HMT resurfaces, George hopes to work on another collaboration with seasoned performer Iain Sinclair, star of Harry’s Christmas. George doesn’t want to give too much away, but it’s obvious by the way he alludes to future projects that he’s really looking forward to the opportunity to work with Iain again. In the meantime, George is set to play Fagin in Supa Productions’ Oliver. He realizes he won’t have artistic control in a show he’s not producing, but this is a role he has always wanted to play.
While it seems that George’s interests are varied, he maintains that variety makes him what he is. “If I were to totally focus on something, I don’t think I’d have the sort of personality that would allow me to do that.” In fact, music is George’s main love. If he had to choose one thing to focus on, he would love to perform music regularly. He believe that this all ties into acting, and that the best actors should be versatile. “Singing is a handy tool to have,” says George.
Whether he’s performing, directing or teaching, what matters most to George is doing the best and being professional in his artistic approach, regardless of the context. As we wrap things up, George asks me, “Has that all been too serious? Do you want me to say something stupid now?”
It’s this contrast of professionalism and light-hearted attitude that makes George such an inspiration.
