Rochester’s Black Sheep Theatre is about to make its mark on
the national community theatre scene. The world can now consider itself
forewarned.
Putting the Black Sheep on the Map
This past weekend, the community theatre group I helped found eight years ago was privileged to attend and perform in the American Association of Community Theatre’s Eastern States Theatre Association, Region II Festival competition on Saturday, April 18, in La Plata, MD.
We’d performed alongside very capable theatre companies from
all over the Eastern seaboard. Groups from communities in Maryland, Delaware,
Pennsylvania, New York, and The District of Columbia, who provide thousands of
dollars of financial support in arts grants and private donations. We operate
on a thinly held together shoe-string budget, and struggle to pay our rent each
month. But we held our own. We made our mark.
And we won the show.
At the awards ceremony of the on Sunday, April 19, we sat
together as we always do, as a theatrical ensemble, a united force, as friends.
We’d dressed for the occasion. As most around us sat in shorts, denim, t-shirts
and Birkenstocks, we sat in tuxedos, suit-coats, ties, cocktail dresses and
strappy sandals. This was our Super Bowl, our moment; we were going to enjoy
it, and bask in the glory of it. We didn’t yet know we had won, but we wanted
to celebrate the accomplishment of simply being there amidst the greatness.
As we sat sipping morning cocktails and coffee, we joked and
chatted with those seated around us. A true sense of camaraderie had developed
over the weekend and lingered even that morning. It truly had been a friendly
competition, many groups standing and cheering the others on as the curtain
went up and came down time after time. Many stopped by to whisper and confide
to us, “You got this!” and “Grand Rapids, here we come!” Grand Rapids, Michigan
being the next stop for the victorious group with the winning show, to compete
at the AACT National Festival in June.
Choosing to Say "Yes"
At one point, a man approached the table, and offered his
compliments to a job well done. It had been an impressive show: a simple yet
beautiful set, a gorgeous lighting plot, superb acting, and some stunning
special effects (one judge described them as “delightfully creepy”). Then this
man asked who was in charge. Who had been responsible for the production
design? “Where is the director?” The others – I’m happy to say – proudly pointed
to me.
The man continued to describe how he had seen the set – our wooden
waterfront dock, about 6 feet by 9 feet – lying on the floor in the “on deck”
area in the tech shop back stage. He confessed he had wondered what the heck we
were going to do with the thing. Was it for transport? Was it for storage? How
were they going to use this crazy thing?
Then he saw us setting it up. He saw our tech crew place the
dock such that it extended past the edge of the stage, jutting into the
audience. He saw them fasten and screw down the custom-designed front pylons
for the dock, specifically measured and precisely cut for this stage, to fit
perfectly, the height of the apron.
He said he watched as we set the “water lights,” an effect
that used a string of Christmas lights in front below the dock to simulate moonlight
sparkling off the surface of a salt water lake. He saw the eerie green and blue
lights come up and our creative elements come together to create the Southern swampland
world in which the play takes place. He said he watched all of this and thought
to himself, “Who does this?” Who
thinks to extend the set into the audience to literally bring them into that world of the play? Who builds a set
piece that essentially has to be rebuilt each and every time the show goes up?
Who, indeed, he wondered out loud, then asked us that morning, “Who does this?”
My colleagues, seated around me, and I smirked and smiled at
each other. Then someone – Jared – spoke up. “We do,” he answered.
And we do. We’re the Black Sheep. WE do this.
Perhaps Too Stupid to Know Better
Maybe we’re just too stupid to know better. Maybe we're just too naïve to recognize the risk. Or maybe we just choose instead to explore uncertainty and fully exhaust the options before we decide.
I really think that last one. Yeah, that’s it.
You see, this particular moment in time drove home for me
the reason my organization exists – exactly why we’re here. Someone – usually a
potential director – has a vision. He or she has an idea that is creative,
innovative, unusual, or even perhaps outrageous. And unlike others (I suspect,
anyways) who may begin to provide all the reasons it can’t be done – too risky,
too expensive, we don’t have the experience, our audiences won’t like it, we
don’t do things like that – we, the Black Sheep, instead begin to brainstorm,
create or invent different ways we can make it happen.
Make it happen. Make it so.
I am most proud of this aspect of how we choose our projects
and mount our productions. Yes, we have limited resources. Yes, we have a
small, unconventional space. Yes, many of us come from backgrounds other than
technical theatre, having learned what we know through what I like to refer to
The School of Hard Knocks. But instead of considering all the reasons we can’t, we instead choose to explore
all the ways we can.
We’re the Black Sheep. And now that we’ve won Regional
honors and can boast the title AACT/ESTA Festival 2015 Outstanding Production
First Place, the world had better get ready: here come The Sheep.
See The Sheep. Fear The
Sheep.
Rochester’s Black Sheep Theatre: Yes. We can.
And yes, we do.
Perfectly said.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Vernon!
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