« I Know You Already | Main | Vivian's Ear »

Community Performance Inc.

May 13, 2008

Steady at the main. Week three. OK. So, the beginning of week three is that point when you look at what you've rehearsed, and then, at what you've got left to rehearse, and imagine the audience coming through the doors in 31/2 short weeks. *GULP*

It's easy for everyone to start going into freak-out mode and start questioning everything: Who's not been coming to rehearsals? When will they start coming? How many more props do we need? When will the crates be finished? When can we expect the planks to be delivered? When will costumes be made? When do we start weaving the music into the show?

And it's at this week that the answer to ALL of these questions must be: "Now."

Yep. It's enough to cause a freak out for folks unaccustomed to this. Our job is to hold true to the course and not freak out with everyone else. Ha. You know, even for seasoned folks like us, it can be a challenge when we have a week where we've faced oh so many challenges. On these days, I remember this time, walking through the Charlotte airport. I can't remember where I was coming from, it was a nice day, but sort of a blustery day, kind of bumpy flying weather. I just remember walking behind a pilot on the moving walkway. And on the other side, walking in the opposite direction comes another pilot. He says to the pilot in front of me, "Hey, how's it going?" and the pilot in front of me says "Living the dream, baby." And keeps on walking.

And I thought, how cool is that, to be living the dream. Then I thought again. "Hey, so am I." I was on my way to one of these projects. Bumpy weather and all, I'm living the dream.

We've always ever had challenges. We've never had a project that didn't have a challenge. If we ever do a project that isn't hiding surprises for us, I think we’d have to find another job. Imagine going to work the same time every day, doing the same things every day. No surprises. Well, I think my sister would like that. She’s got three young kids at home, and her life is always full of surprises, so for some, I suppose, a steady routine, do this, do that, every day, would be perfect. For me, I don’t know. I think I love fairy tales too much. The steady routine is like the end of the fairy tale, the “They lived happily ever after”. Well, then the book is closed at that point, because there’s nothing else interesting to talk about. I like being in the middle, battling dragons. I like sneaking over walls, breaking barriers, playing with fire, building bridges across impossible expanses, diving deep into the rivers of dreams, dabbling with the magic powers of storytelling and all the dangers hiding within. It’s challenging-heck yes!- when I dabble with a story that is hotter than I think it is, even one that is forty or fifty years old, so hot that we end up losing certain cast members who still have feelings (or fear) around that story and how it played out in their real lives. When it is so hot it appears to be burning bridges, rather than building them over that great expanse. Or, so hot it brings out the dragons, attracted to the heat and ready to add its own fire and possibly burn it up.

But always, always, in the fairy tales, some other great things happen, dragons and all. We, us and the community, imagine ourselves the heroes of our own lives. And the great heroes never carried any magic tools with them- they found all of the tools they needed along the way. A whispered piece of information by a little bird on a fence, a key hiding in a chink in the wall—or else they were gifted with the needed tools along the way. A helmet of invisibility, a magic shield. Right at the moment the heroes realize they need something, out comes the great all knowing wise person with the very item needed. Just like what happened last night.

Unknowingly, as in many fairytales, I stepped into a story that was hotter than I’d imagined. At the public read-through, I was asked to “go further”. We all agreed. And I did. And perhaps, went further than anyone anticipated. I handled the story in a safe way, I thought, by sort of disassociating a certain event. But there are memories in the community that still recall the event, oh so vividly. “It was a hard time. A sad time. A hard time for us. Maybe that’s why you’re not having people show up to do it. That was a sad time.” Even though the event resulted in a change, and a new way of being in the community, new laws, and new found rights, the event precipitating it caused heartbreak. After this was explained, I could understand why we’d had a lack of participation from that community. I wrote a powerful scene that can only be done by a certain group. And there wasn’t anyone present from this gruop to perform it. *GULP* again.

And then the freak-out sets in, with another week-three question: How are we going to do the end of the show, which is a Civil Rights march in the Rain, without having the right people to do the marching? As in many fairy tales, the people needed disappeared in the mist.

When it appeared all was lost, when some were wondering if we needed to rewrite the ending, we were gifted by the New Light Church Choir. They had just what we needed, right when we needed it. Their presence built a new bridge over this great expanse. We reached out, and they reached back, our hands meeting somewhere over that void. I'm not sure if we pulled them over to this side, or if they pulled us over to that. The territory is always shifting. What I do know, now, is that their participation will allow us to March in the Rain at the end of the production. And at least one of the members of this choir was also a member of that original march.

The truth is, while some people were heading toward the freak out stage, (but kudos to them that NONE of them actually hit the freak out stage. And they are a first time project. Have I mentioned today how remarkable and steady these folks are) but anyway, while some actors were heading in that direction, questioning the ending, and whether we could pull it off, I knew all along that I would not be changing that ending. First of all, it’s too good. Sure, I gave a reassuring, “Sure, if we need to, I can make it work”. Sort of a call out to them, to say, “Steady at the main, boys!” Letting everyone know we were going to stay on course, no matter what. I had a plan B. And I did work out a plan B. That's part of my job- to make sure we can move forward, no matter what. That was something I, myself, could do to remedy the situation. But I knew all along, it would work out some how, with the community. It always does. The necessary means lay hidden in plain site, only waiting for us to find them—I always believe that they will always be there. We’ve never had a project that didn’t have challenges, AND we’ve also never not opened a show, no matter what the challenge.

I continue to be thrilled by the constant reminder that everything we need is right here, right in time for us. Stay centered. Stay steady, hold the course, and look carefully around. Listen closely. The way to build stronger communities and neighborhoods and personal lives- it lies in plain sight, waiting for us to find it and save the day, save the neighborhood, save our lives. I just have to be aware enough of what the universe is giving to me, and be prepared to accept it, even if it’s not what I think I need. Look for the completely unexpected.

Now, does that mean the challenge is over? Pshhhh. Yeah. Right. We’ve still got 31/2 weeks of rehearsal before we open. And people need to be at rehearsal, learn the material,learn the choreography in a couple weeks, which adds yet another layer, learn the music, get their costumes made, and any number of things can happen in the next 23 days. Another challenge. Another crisis. Another opportunity. You’ll hear about it. And if we stay centered, and look for our solutions, we’ll find them. Steady at the main, girls. Full speed ahead.

   

« I Know You Already | Main | Vivian's Ear »