Surrounded by Amazing

Sometimes I forget just how lucky I really am.

I thrive on talent. I love nothing more than to surround myself with talented people, doing what they do best, reaping the rewards of their endless practice and devotion to their art. Art, of course, comes in an infinite variety of forms, but as a musician, I have a soft spot in my heart for art through music. It's lucky, then, that I have the good fortune to spend my days surrounded by some of the most talented musical theatre students in the world.

I spend so much of my time with other tech/design students doing our own work that I sometimes forget to acknowledge the incredible things happening in the studio below our Design Room by the actors, the singers, and the dancers who bring theatre to life.

I'm presently working as a Mic Dresser on the final production of Ithaca's mainstage season, a musical called Baby. As part of my job, I've grown quite close to many of the cast members, and I've made at least a few friendships that will last long after this show closes. As I joke around with and spend time with these people, I tend to forget how much raw talent, dedication, and passion is contained within each and every one of them. I often ask myself why I am so fortunate to be able to just be around them, much less to call them my friends.

When they're hanging around backstage, they're no more than normal college students sharing gossip, talking about last night's party, and just having fun. But as soon as they start to do what they do best, I am instantly reminded of just how lucky I am to be in the presence of such talent, and I only hope that I can someday harness the dedication to perfect my craft to the level that they have,

To end this post, I'd like to share a few videos from these amazing individuals who I get to interact with every day. While you probably don't know them personally, I hope they can move you as they've moved me.

One Year Later

What a difference a year makes...

Today, April 1, is an important anniversary for me. And no, it's not because it's also April Fools Day. Exactly one year ago today, I got a phone call that launched me into one of the most difficult, demanding, painful, exhausting, and thrilling summers I've ever had the privilege to experience. I remember it clearly - I signed all the contracts, sealed them in an envelope, and went to the computer to start a blog, this blog in fact, with the promise that I would blog about the fantastic journey I was about to embark upon.

Well, looking back one year later, my summer was more fantastic than I could have ever imagined it. As hard as I've tried, there are some experiences that simply can't be captured in words. The day when we all took a leap of faith and jumped off the waterfall. The night where we sat and stared at the waterfall and the stars above for hours. The karaoke nights at Kilpatricks. The fancy dresses and sport jackets on opening nights. And the countless nights sitting around, talking and laughing and living life. I learned so much about theatre, about life, and about myself every single day. And most importantly, I reaffirmed the choices for my life and reshaped who I am as a human being.

Looking back through my old blog posts from last summer, I wonder what my true motive was to start this blog in the first place. Was it for others to read and follow my activities, or was it for something else? I can't say if this blog is read by anyone at all, but the memories and the moments it holds here are poignant reminders for me of a wonderful time that is now over.

It's been one year to the day since I signed up for the summer of my life, and today marks the day that I'm doing it again. I have officially accepted another internship for summer 2011, this time at a facility on the outskirts of New York City. While I can't actually reveal the name of the company yet, I am thrilled to a level that I have only felt once before - one year ago today. I will be spending three months living and working in New York City, rubbing shoulders with the individuals who have shaped and defined the theatre into what it is today. There's no way of knowing what may lie in store for tomorrow, but I am eager to turn the page and dive in headfirst.

A Quick Interjection

Tonight, having nothing better to do in my hotel room, I turned on Comedy Central to watch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Instead of the funny, comedic show that I was expecting, I was treated to a powerful, touching, and heartfelt monologue about the horrible tragedy in Tuscon this past weekend. If you haven't seen it yet, I urge you to find a clip online and watch it.

In the spirit of touching monologues, I looked up the speech that Jon Stewart gave following the horrific attacks of September 11, 2001. In light of the recent tragedy in this country, it feels like an appropriate time to reflect back on the past.

The Next Big Adventure!

I am very excited right now. Excited to the point that, even though it's four in the morning, I can't force myself to fall asleep until I actually write all this down. I have just finished planning out my travel plans for Winter Break - and oh, what plans they are! In a total time of only three weeks, I will drive more than 4,000 miles, travel through 11 states, spend time in more than a dozen cities and towns, and visit at least half a dozen great friends!

Throughout all of this, I will not stay in a single hotel, motel, or other "high-class" establishment. My goal with this trip, apart from seeing friends and traveling to distant cities, is to live as frugally as I possibly can. In about half of the cities I sleep in, I will be crashing with a friend, but for the other half, I will just figure out somewhere to sleep when the time comes. In a number of cities, Hostels provide a safe yet affordable way to spend a night, often costing only 20 or 30 dollars a night.

Don't know what a Hostel is? I didn't either. Picture a hotel room, except with anywhere from 2 to 12 complete strangers of either gender sharing it with you. Certainly not the ideal living quarters, but when you consider that I can have a warm, safe place to sleep in New York City for $26 per night (as opposed to the $100+ per night you'd be charged for a hotel), the benefits are obvious. When that fails, I will live even simpler - using a sleeping bag, pillow, and blanket, and curling up in the back seat of my car for the night, sleeping in the parking lot of a 24-hour Walmart, or at a rest stop just off the highway, or even down a lightly traveled road in the middle of a city.

Sounds stupid? Maybe. But, for some reason I can't really explain, this is just something I really want to do. Whenever I travel, and I travel quite often, I try as hard as I can to not see the destination only from the tourist's point of view. Rather than seeing the glamour and history of a city from the safe, upscale window of my 14th floor hotel room, I'd much rather wander the back streets late at night, the areas not included in the guide books, and see people actually interacting with people in the most genuine way.

To be honest, another huge appeal of this trip is the pure spontaneity of it all. While I do have a loose schedule for what I want to do, the schedule stops with days and weeks instead of hours and minutes. All I know for sure is that at some point during those three weeks, I will visit a few specific destinations, but other than that, I will simply drive wherever I feel like going. If I see a destination that looks intriguing while driving west on I-71, then I'm gonna take it and never look back! Rather than focusing on the destination, I'm really excited to be able to look at the journey as a destination of its own. I'm sure I'll end up in some very unexpected places, but I'll undoubtedly return with lots of new experiences, new photographs, and new ideas.

It's gonna be a great winter!

R

My Hero

I have met so many people in my life who are the epitome of good; the epitome of honesty; the epitome of love and of happiness and of courtesy. However, of these people, there are very, very few who I can call my Hero. One of those individuals is Claire Morgan Murray.

Claire was a very dear friend of mine growing up. We met for the first time as performers in the theatre, something we both had an endless love for, and we never really grew apart. Claire was a year older than I, but she was, and remains still today, one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever met. Claire would go out of her way just to try to make your life a bit brighter, and she didn't even expect or want any thanks in return. She always had a smile on her face and a kind word on her tongue, and she would always lend an ear to listen to your meaningless complaints and sorrows. Sadly, Claire passed away on September 13, 2005 at the young age of 13, the result of a fatal and incurable disease. Despite her young age, Claire's passing was mourned by thousands of people from within the local area and beyond. Every person she touched shed tears upon hearing the news, and even unknown strangers were said to have recognized her picture as "the girl with the infectious good mood."

But despite her charm, none of these is the reason why I consider Claire to be one of my heroes. During the last months of her life, Claire was fully aware of the effects of the disease, and that she would likely not live to see her 14th birthday. And yet, despite this knowledge, her personality remained as loving and caring as ever. Claire would still lend an ear to listen to your petty problems and comfort you, all the while knowing that her very life hung in balance. Rather than feeling sorry for herself and making others feel sorry for her, Claire lived her life to the absolute fullest, taking advantage of every moment she had to do what she loved to do. I hope that someday, whether long in the future or quite soon, I can find even half of the strength and charm that Claire embraced in her final moments of life.

Just Before the Sunrise

I have a distinct and vivid memory of waking unusually early on the morning of September 11, 2001. I was ten years old at the time, and like most ten year olds, I woke up without too much difficulty. But this morning was different. I had no idea why, but for some reason I found myself awake very early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. I remember getting out of bed and laying outside on the grass in my front yard, just waiting for the sun to rise. The rays of the sun quickly overtook the darkness of night, and as the sky began to be filled with daylight, I uneventfully went inside and started getting ready for school like any other ordinary day. Needless to say, that day would prove to be more out of the ordinary than anyone could have imagined.

Ever since 2002, I have risen each morning on the 11th of September to simply sit and watch the sun rise, and this morning was no exception. As I grew older and began to resent waking up more and more, I still managed to find the ability to wake up on this one day of the year and venture outside to watch nature's beauty unfolding before my eyes. I truly cannot explain why I do this. I would like to say that it is a tribute to the lives lost on that day, or that it holds some strong symbolism within me, but neither is true. Quite simply, as I sit each morning and watch a new day burst into being, I am forcibly reminded that, for thousands of people from all different walks of life, this was the last sunrise they would ever see. I think about that day when I innocently sat outside and watched the sunrise before school, and I think about the thousands of people who kissed their loved ones goodbye, who made lasting promises, and who left to pursue new journeys under that sunrise. But most of all, I am forced to acknowledge how lucky and privileged I am to be enjoying each and every sunrise, each and every day, and each and every moment. Because for thousands of individuals, this was the last sunrise they would ever see.

R

And So... Goodbye

I've never been very good at saying goodbye. Which is why I'm sitting here wishing that tomorrow would never come. Tomorrow, I will say goodbye to so many incredible individuals and incredible friends, but more importantly, I will say goodbye to everything that I've known for the last three months. Though the events of this summer were far from perfect, I have loved every second I've been privileged enough to be here, and if I could go back and do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Mere words can never describe the plethora of emotions which I am feeling right now, and which I will be feeling even stronger tomorrow. As I leave the Hangar Theatre for one last time tomorrow night, I will do so as a different person than I was three months ago, ready to march forward into the setting sun and begin on life's next journey.

Here's to the nights that turned into mornings,
the strangers that turned into friends,
and the friends that turned into family.

R

The Beginning of the End

Working at a summerstock theatre is an experience unlike any other. For three months out of the year, you pack up everything that defines you as a individual and move off to a brand new city, far from everything you've ever known. On your first day, you don't know a single person there, and yet you are immediately thrown headfirst into a high-intensity environment where you have no choice but to put forth 110% every minute just to keep your head above water. You spend between 8 and 16 hours every day at work with people you've never met, and the remaining time is spent in whatever living quarters you've been assigned with the same people. Spending nearly every waking moment with the same people for three months, you quickly develop very close bonds with people around you. And then, just as quickly as it began, the countdown to the end of the summer comes to an abrupt end, and you are whisked home to your separate schools and cities, back to whatever life you lived before summerstock.

We said goodbye to a very dear friend yesterday. The event was largely understated and unceremonious. The time was 3:30am, four hours into the final changeover of summerstock. As we took our ten minute break, she said last goodbyes, gave out last hugs, and walked out the theatre doors for the last time. I must confess that, even as we promised to cross paths sometime in our futures, I was secretly wondering if this might be the last time we ever saw eachother. For that is the hidden curse that is summerstock - even as we bond together, we fear that the bridges we build, the friendships we gain, and the memories we create can exist only within summerstock.

Over the course of the next three weeks, one by one, more and more friends will depart summerstock and return back to their own separate lives, taking with them only the memories created at summerstock. Some memories will be forgotten, others will be shared, and still others will be kept locked away from the outside world. As I say goodbye to each departing friend, I know not whether we will ever see eachother again in this life. But however our individual paths through life progress, our summerstock friendships and our summerstock memories will stay with us as we return to our pre-summerstock lives.

"Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself,
Will it ever get better than tonight?"

R

Moving On and Looking Back

So at the request of Miss Allers, and because it's been such a long time since I've really written here, I've decided to write a new blog. I do apologize because it's once again about La Mancha, but as that show has essentially been the sole purpose of my existence here for the last two or so weeks, I think it's an appropriate topic for a few blogs.

On Saturday night, we had our 19th and final performance of Man of La Mancha at the Hangar. But there was no time to be sentimental - the moment the last audience member walked out of the theatre, a horde of technicians, armed with drills and saws and C-wrenches, descended upon the stage to whisk away any sign that there had ever been a show there. Costumes were washed and put back on racks, props were returned to storage, platforms were disconnected and carried away, lighting instruments were struck, and the process of changeover had begun.

As a professional theatre, the Hangar loses money every day that it can't sell seats to a performance. Therefore, it is in everyone's best interests to keep the number of days between closing and the next opening to an absolute minimum. By 1:30am, the entire set of La Mancha had been struck, leaving no sign that it had ever been there, and Electrics could really get to work. Because our jobs are considerably easier to do before scenery is placed, Electrics and Sound are always the first departments to start installing equipment for the next show. We spent the whole night striking the plot from the previous show, then hanging, circuiting, coloring, and patching the plot for the next show. By 6am we had accomplished most of what we set out to do, and we watched the sun rise as we drove home, ending a long 18 hour work day. We came back to work at 2pm that afternoon, and by 6pm the entire plot of 200-some lighting instruments was ready to be focused. It really is an incredible turnaround time - a little over 18 hours to go from one enormous show to a completely different, yet equally enormous show. It's amazing what a small, talented group of people can do in such a short amount of time when there's no room for failure.

So now that I've described the daunting process that is changeover, allow me to return to the moments just before we began to erase any trace of the show from our theatre. While 19+ performances of the same show in just over two weeks is a LOT, I enjoyed every second I spent working on this production. No matter how many times we ran the show, no two performances were ever the same. Some nights an actor was sick, some nights a lead spontaneously changed his lines, and some nights a costume piece just decided to be difficult. But without exception, I was moved every night when Richard Todd Adams performed "The Impossible Dream". And no matter how many times I heard him deliver his touching monologue in Act II, I was able to find new meaning in what he was saying every time.

Working on this show has been an honor and a privilege, and I'm happy to say that it has reaffirmed my choice of what I want to do with the rest of my life. I can't realistically expect to love every production as much as I've loved this one, but if future shows are even half as rewarding as this show has been, then I can't wait to see what the future has in store.


R

Words to Live By

"Call nothing thy own except thy soul.
Love not what thou art, but only what thou may become.
Do not pursue pleasure, for thou may have the misfortune to overtake it.
Look always forward; in last year's nest there are no birds this year.
Be just to all men. Be courteous to all women.
Live in the vision of that one for whom great deeds are done ..."


Ironically, by choosing to pursue a career in the theatre, I am actually sacrificing the main factor that made me love it in the first place. I have always been awed and inspired by the magic of theatre - that, on severely limited schedules and budgets, so many diverse people can bring together their incredible talents to produce an emotionally moving stage production that gets recreated eight times a week. Sadly, by working theatre at a high level, the "emotionally moving"-ness of the production for those of us running the shows often tends to be lost.

This was not the case this evening.

Tonight was our third of nineteen performances of Man of La Mancha at the Hangar Theatre, and I, as a frontlight follow spot operator, have a priceless view of the stage. Even though we've now spent over 50 hours with the actors on stage rehearsing and teching this show, tonight was the first time I really stopped to listen to what was going on. Now that my cues are all memorized and I have a feel for the show, I can finally stop to appreciate the incredible beauty that's happening 20 feet beneath my spotlight. And just before the finale of the first act, some of Don Quixote's lines started to really hit me.

As Don Quixote (played by Richard Todd Adams) held his vigil and considered how life should be lived, we at first hear some of the timeless advice which we've all heard since our youth. But what makes this truly powerful is the context. Don Quixote is holding vigil outside of a bar which he believes to be a mighty castle, preparing to be knighted by the owner of the bar whom he believes to be a great king. We are almost tempted to laugh at his expense, but as he delivers wise words of wisdom, we are left in a state of awe. Quixote may be a crazed lunatic who lives only in delusions, but the ideals and morals to which he clings are inspiring and pure. Even as everyone around him succumbs to the reality of life as it is, Quixote still holds fiercely onto his dream, all the while knowing that it is an impossibility.

Don Quixote's message is a universal one which we can all learn from. We have all, at one time or another, chosen what is easy over what is right, and we have all let go of something precious for fear of failure. Through the timeless words of Don Quixote, we are reminded that our lives are not defined by the places we go, but by the journeys we take to get there.


"To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star."


R