04/01/2015
There's always the dramatic arc of putting on a production itself, isn't there? The sometimes quiet laying of the foundation, the gathering of allies and leaders, then setting it all into motion, the wheels spinning faster, until a week before half of us are in a panic of props and dropped lines, 2/4 measures not quite synching up, scenery that still has to be built, programs to be made and picked up at the printers (did you remember to thank so-and-so in the program?), opening night and here we go and the magnificent (we hope) collision and collusion of drama and singing, scenery and movement and music, an audience to give the gift to, the feeling as we are doing it that this Now is it, this one (Rumi), and then the wave crests. Curtain call. Mingle with the crowd. The crowd dwindles. Have a drink. Tear down the set. Load it out into trucks. You and the stage manager are the last ones in the theater, there's nothing ON the stage now, and you think, was there a whole world built here, lived here, just hours ago? You think of mandalas made in sand. For days the music is going through your head, you're wondering what the cast is up to, and then you forget to think about them as much. Life crowds it all out. You go to hear other things. You start to watch birds and hang out with your family again. Life continues. And then months later you think, "Maybe it's time to start thinking about composing a new opera", as if the idea was as new as fresh paint on a bare stage. Gratitude, in the glue that keeps it all coherent in a life. Thank you Annie Laurie Rosen, Ian José Ramirez, Dru Rutledge, Noah Mickens, Paul Evans, Mirabai Peart, Drew Drew,Michael O'Neill, Jack Wells,Lindsay DiAnn, John Bennet, Andrew Jankowski,Laurel Jones, The Alberta Rose Theatre, Ben Zeller Mund, Sol Crawford, Joseph Cawley, Adam East, Deanna Hutchinson, Justus Wilson, CR Saxton, Velvet Louise (and your crew cohorts), Amand Gerace, Scot Crandal, Catherine Olson, and everyone else.
