“Putting on a musical has gotta be the most fulfilling
thing a person could ever hope to do.”

A line from Detective Cioffi, the leading character in this year’s winter musical, Curtains, which debuted last weekend in the Milligan Center of the Performing Arts. Perhaps if you read my previous post, you may have gathered my apprehension as our performance dates neared. Somewhere in the midst of finishing the final touches on set pieces, hemming up remaining costumes, and fixing the actor’s hair and make-up, opening night snuck up on me. Without a second to breathe or a moment to reflect, the overture started. My heart sank with the tune, the curtain opened, and sure enough, the magic unfolded, as it always does.

Time and again, we open a show, give a mere three performances, and close it within the same weekend. We are left to wonder, Was all that work was worth it? and yet find no comfort in the now barren stage left to answer our query. Yet I continually find myself partaking in this vicious cycle, responding only by jumping into the next production. Thus a direct answer has yet to be given, though the action I repeatedly take suggests how I feel. For the feelings evoked from being a part of something bigger than ourselves, give us reason to believe–and more significantly, teaches us how to make the “make believe” accessible. By taking part in a production, we become “show people” and as an ensemble, we take on this collective identity. Fitting the description provided in the Show People Reprise, performed at the end of last weekend’s musical.

We live in a world full of dreams.
Sometimes we’re not too certain what’s false and what’s real…
but we’re seldom in doubt, about how we feel.

These lyrics became a mantra for me as I pushed past exhaustion and found myself replenished by late night rehearsals or long afternoons building. My sanity seemed to dwindle in those final days and, though my fellow artisans could not coax back my sanity, I found comfort knowing I was in the company of other insane souls. I was not alone in my thirst for the challenge, for all the show people; actors, directors, techies, and musicians, jumped into the grind willingly, despite the products shape a week before opening. The students gave up their weekends, their study halls, their Friday evenings, Saturday mornings and even a Holiday to bring this show together. All the while their spirits remained resilient and perhaps more often than not, the encouragement and laughter seemed to cast a shadow over their sleepy faces. They committed to the process and dedicated their souls to something that, though is expendable in its existence, remains forever impactful in its purpose. Indeed this show was not easy, but perhaps had it been our product would not have rewarded the same fulfillment for our audience, as well as our “show people.” So it appears the tune of the show rings as true to our ears as it does to our hearts. You are a special kind of people and to finish Cioffi’s line,

“You’re all heroes to me.”