Opening a production in a place you never thought you could...

Last night was one for the record books. 

Dairus and Twig written by Caleen Jennings for the stage was opened in the Family Theater at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. I was the sound designer. 

Since I visited the Kennedy Center back in 2011 with KCACTF I dreamed that one day I could design a production there, maybe one day even in one of the larger theaters. And then the dream came true. What do you do when you've reached your goals in life? What do you say to someone when they ask what you hope to do in life? "I've done it already?" No, that would be far too prideful; and yet, somehow satisfying internally to even have the knowledge that you have made a goal of your life come true. 

What it boils down to, and this is something I have felt in my own life, is being willing to push yourself, mind, body, and spirit to the absolute point of breaking, and then taking a moment to realize that you're not broken, and continue forward to another point of breaking. Life isn't easy, life is not a journey to be taken on alone. We in theatre are collaborative beings all striving towards one common goal. The production on opening night. 

It is absolutely wonderful to get to opening night and watch everyone breathe a sigh of relief. Our work is complete, we present it to a paying audience, and we move along to the next production. We also get crazy and take photos in front of step and repeats, we gather together as a whole company and laugh, drink champagne, eat cake, chat about the fun and the moments we enjoy in the production and make promises to work together again really soon. 

I swear there is a moment where Walt Disney himself comes in, waves a magic wand, and suddenly we're all transfixed and transformed into this beautiful moment that we cannot explain, we all are at a "ball" so to speak, dancing the night away and feeling on top of our games. Of course, there is the moment after when everyone is departing and the magic slowly fades away, like a well executed series of cues called by a stage manager in just the perfect way, that you begin to realize that you didn't breathe, you didn't know that the night had slowly slipped away, and you're in an Über driving to your next event of the night... somehow your pumpkin carriage turned to a pumpkin again, and you're riding on the backs of four white mice, a goose who's driving, and a dog who barks that midnight is passed. 

More to come, 
Articles I'm looking to expand on: 
- Sound Designer Visibility in the Workplace
Funding of Sound Design Education
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