So what is theatre?

Hey, I don't know if any of you were watching the show TV show Rise--it was about a high school drama program in an economically depressed steel town in Pennsylvania. The teacher decided to produce Spring Awakening, and not surprisingly, got in a lot of hot water for it. The show had a lot of potential but was riddled with cliches: football star who is torn between his love for the sport and his love for theatre; gay kid from a religious family who is afraid to come out; girl playing the lead who is from the wrong side of the tracks; etc., etc.  

So it was canceled after one season. Not surprising. But an article about the show came across my newsfeed, and there's a quote I wanted to share with you:

Rise was about art, the kind of art that leaves 999 people totally unmoved and one person completely obliterated. That’s all art, isn’t it? But it’s why musical theater is art at its most social, because theater comes part and parcel with an entire community filled with people who, compared to 999 others, are that one person. And suddenly, they’re a 15-person cast. They’re a 50-person crew. They’re a group of people who silently agree to put their entire lives on hold together — football, waitressing, general free time — to build this one thing, so perfectly rehearsed and painstakingly crafted, all in service of capturing this one feeling that rose out of this one presentation of art that ends after a lengthy run, a fleeting weekend, or in the case of Spring Awakening, just one night. 

To me, that's one of the most joyous things about theatre. 

Our shows have the potential to change people. We challenge them, make them laugh, invite them to sing along, or make them uncomfortable. We open a conversation, create a spark of recognition, ignite a passion, or piss people off.

And while we're doing it, we become that substitute family. We give up things like time with our own families. We don't make it to the gym. We turn down work shifts, risking personal economic ruin. We get close with one another, so that we celebrate their successes and mourn their disappointments. It's one of the best things about being in a show.

So Rise, rest in peace.

For all of you reading this, consider what it means to be a part of something bigger than yourselves. You're performing in service of the audience, but you're also growing and changing as human beings and participants in this life.

--Katie Rodda