The universe of a production

I'm sure anyone who's done any kind of theatrical production, no matter the level, can tell you that it can be all-consuming during the rehearsal process, especially towards the end (what we call Endproben in Germany). Sometimes that's a really beautiful thing.

It feels apt to say that each production is its own universe. I try not to forget this. There is a unique quality to each one, and every little thing that each person does contributes to that universe in its own little way.

There are a million different permutations of the people involved, the performance space, the set and costume design, the musical interpretation, the dramatic choices, the diction, etc. There is a myriad of variables, all jumbled together to form a particular constellation that makes up the fabric of a production.  This is what I mean when I say each production exists in its own universe.

And sometimes it really does feel that those involved are living wholly and completely in that universe. Taking a step back on a day off today, I'm reminded there are so many other aspects to my life that are momentarily neglected. That's not necessarily a bad thing. I'll get to them, and I'll tend to them as needed in due time. It seems to me to be the nature of artistic work. To be fully engaged in a universe means we can release our creative energy into it, which is, I think, the job of an artist. To be absolutely present with a piece for a period of time, learning its many quirks.

It requires so much of us, but that's also where the real beauty begins. We begin to see how the piece interacts with us on a deeper level. We dig into the true nature of its messaging, and perhaps come closer to the true nature of ourselves as human beings.

And then, inevitably, when the production comes to an end, there is a kind of whiplash as we are violently torn from that universe. Sometimes it's a relief, other times it's depression, often a combination of both.

​And then we go to seek out that next universe.