The Power of Live Performance

Theatre: The Artform of What It Means to Be Human

Heightened Communication

Theatre on the community, grassroots level has been an enormous part of my life for the better part of 20 years.  Growing up, I took music and dance lessons and performed regularly in front of a live audience. But I didn’t discover the theatre arts until well into adulthood. I first became interested in the stage as a means to meet people and become involved in my community. Little did I know then the power and influence this seemingly innocuous “hobby” would infuse into my life. Nothing I had experienced before and nothing I have been involved in since has made me feel more alive, confident, scared, and inspired than the work I have done in community theatre.

And I know I am not alone.

What is it, this power the theatre has over those of us who fall under her spell?

To answer that, we need to explore what the art-form really is in its purest form. Theatre is the art-form of heightened communication. That’s all it is. It’s when you take very conscious, deliberate, measured and carefully considered communication – human interaction – and transform it into art. Certainly, not an easy or simple thing to accomplish. But it has been around forever.

Since the Dawn of Time, theatre has been at the center of the societal circle, providing a forum for dialogue, a means for the People to come together in the spirit of creativity and collaboration. Live performance – above all other two and even three-dimensional art – does more to raise awareness, provide a call to action and, in short, create a forum for dialogue. Here, society can see life mirrored on the stage, and witness a bright light shine on what is important in society, what has meaning and what needs immediate attention.

Artform in Action

This year, I will have the unique pleasure and privilege to work with an ensemble of incredibly talented theatre artists in competing at the regional level with community groups from all over New York, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland. Rochester’s Black Sheep Theatre’s production of Feeding the Moonfish will participate in the Eastern States Theatre Association (ESTA) Festival competition in La Plata, MD in April. Needless to say, I am over-the-moon with excitement at the prospect of what is sure to be a life-influencing, if not life-changing experience.

To even get to the ESTA Fest, our group had to compete and win at the state level. Last November, we were ecstatic to perform in the Theatre Association of New York State (TANYS) Festival competition at Cayuga Community College in Auburn, NY. Five other short programs also competed, and we were delighted (and a more than a little bit humbled) to have been victorious in our efforts.

Now it’s on to La Plata and the ESTA Fest.

And if I can make an attempt at balance between humility and pride, I must say, I firmly believe we have fairly favorable chances to do well there.

Extraordinary People Doing Extraordinary Work

First of all, Feeding the Moonfish is a deeply moving story. In it, we meet Martin, a young man who, on the edge of a saltwater lake in Florida, slips away each night to “talk” to the fish that feed at the end of a dock. Always believing himself to be completely alone in his secret ritual, he is surprised and angry to find one night that he has been spied on by a curious and obsessive teenage girl, Eden, who has hidden herself in his car to see where he goes. As Eden confronts Martin, dark secrets from the past are unearthed, and the unlikely pair of strangers come to understand they are bound together through similar experiences of loneliness and tragedy. The new bond they forge over the course of the evening proves not only to be transformative and redemptive, but provides a sacred connection between these two very broken, very tragic characters.

Feeding the Moonfish draws on the influence of natural forces, the significance of memory and the power of human connection to weave a ghostly and surreal tale of loneliness, violence and a young man's fear of himself. In short, the story drills down to the very soul, the very core of what it means to be human.

Secondly, the cast and crew of Black Sheep Theatre’s production of Feeding the Moonfish are an amazing group of human beings. Working with them, seeing them embrace the story, share their own insights, and bring Martin, Eden, and even the Moonfish themselves to vivid and tangible life has been one of the most intense of my amateur theatre career. Emotional, sensitive and intense, their performance each time pulls from us from within and transports us from the theatre auditorium and plunges us into the dark and lonely place that is the saltwater marsh of the setting … and the depths of the young protagonists’ souls.

It is truly an extraordinary production.

We Need Your Help

We are prepared in every way to do proud the state of New York, the city of Rochester, and our own Black Sheep Theatre as we take the stage in La Plata next month. But we need your help.

Supporting our efforts is easy, and you have a few great options to participate.

•     Visit our IndieGoGo campaign at:
o   http://www.indiegogo.com/project/preview/01b468b2

o   Or, just go to www.indiegogo.com and Search for Feeding the Moonfish

o   Lots of great perks at all levels of giving!

•     Make a donation to our Silent Auction, to be held on April 12 at our fundraising extravaganza at the Bachelor Forum in Rochester

o   Gift certificates

o   Artwork

o   Crafts

o   Gifts

o   Services

o   All donations gladly accepted

•     Come on down for the mayhem and merriment, and join us for our gala fundraising event:

Black Sheep Theatre’s “The Start of Something Big!”

The Bachelor Forum, 670 University Avenue, Rochester, NY

Sunday, April 12 from 2:00 to 5:00 PM

Door prizes! Silent Auction! 50-50 Raffle! Drink Specials!

And much, much more!

For more information on these and other exciting opportunities to help, please contact us at info@blacksheeptheatre.org. 

At the Core of What it Means to Be Human

Working on Feeding the Moonfish last year and this has been an oasis of appreciation and belonging for me. I experienced several tragedies last year – loss of a relationship, loss of young friends and colleagues – and this year, when I lost my job of 10 years. It never, ever ceases to amaze me, even after 20 years, the magnitude of the power that working in community theatre has over me. It’s often so indescribable that I find myself wondering, “What did I do to deserve this? What did I ever do to deserve the friendship, the gratitude, the love? What did I do to deserve such amazing and wonderful people?” 

And all I can fathom is that somehow, somewhere, in this vast and unexplainable universe, sometime in my torn and tattered life, I must have done something right.