I wrote an article that was published in Columbia's The Eye this week. I had a great time working on it, and my editor was very supportive. However, the article that is published online is not what I had in my final draft. I'm really proud of my original article, so it's posted here. Hope you like it. (Read the published version here.)
Those
of us who major in the arts are a little crazy. We know that
decent-paying jobs in the arts are few and far between, but that’s easy
to ignore while we are safe in our college bubble. I’m majoring in film
studies, and part of me doubts that I’ll ever direct a film or write for
television. Once I graduate and the real world slaps me around a bit,
I’ll probably have to let go of my lofty artistic dreams and settle into
a reliable job. These college years may be my last opportunity to work
on productions of any kind. Then I’ll have to be—horror of horrors!—a
grown up. And grown ups can’t just get involved in theater productions
and film shoots.
The After Work Theater Project’s Evan Greenberg would beg to differ.
Evan
is the creative director of the After Work Theater Project, a program
in Midtown Manhattan that stages productions of popular ensemble
musicals (they just finished Hair).
The twist—the cast is made up of working adults of all ages, races, and
professions, many of whom have little to no theater experience. For a
“tuition” on par with that of a gym membership or a child’s summer camp,
adults from any walk of life can be part of a complete staging of a
musical with real sets, costumes, and a professional creative team.
Eric Piepenburg reviewed the project in
the New York Times in February with an article entitled “The Audience
Pays, but So Do the Actors”. Of the participants, Piepenburg says,
“Every performer got something that many a struggling actor strives to
achieve by skill alone: a New York stage credit.” Though the overall
tone of the article is positive, lines like these show the disconnect
between the performing arts and “the real world”—the ominous realm after
college, where your only role is that of an adult.
When
I ask Evan about this skepticism, he is understandably frustrated. He
didn’t start the project to further anyone’s theater career. It’s an
after school theater program, except this program is, literally, after
work. But Piepenburg hints that this program for adults seems
ridiculous. “When I look at my cast of Hair,
I see big kids,” Evan tells me. “I don’t see the line that people draw
between kids and adults, it just doesn’t exist in my world.” He loves
theater; the After Work Theater project lets him keep theater in his
life as he offers the experience to anyone that missed out.
Evan
never dreamed the project would have such a striking effect. The main
purpose of After Work is to give people a chance be part of a theater
community. Regardless of the quality of the show, just being in the
musical makes the participants feel like kids again. The cast formed a
strong, exuberant bond (complete with sleepovers, hair braiding, and
pre-performance chants, according to Evan). Some felt that the
production was life changing; some fulfilled dreams of being on stage;
some had just moved to New York and found friends in a new city. Many
said that it was one of the best experiences they had ever had. “It
really does regress you to another time. I don’t know why we don’t
operate like that anymore, and I don’t know why theater is the key to
bringing that back, but it really does do that for people,” Evan says.
Theater
can be therapeutic, as anyone involved in Varsity Show would agree.
When I explain the After Work Theater Project to members of the crew, I
expect a bit of snobbery, but all I get is immediate approval. “I think
it’s great, a program that can give the arts to adults who otherwise
would lose that or would never have found it,” says Laura Quintela,
CC’14, co-producer.
Everyone
in the show is so eager to share their love for theater that they can’t
get the words out quickly enough. They take pride in their completely
original production, but they still feel the camaraderie of more than a
hundred Varsity Show groups before them. Ally Engelberg, BC’15,
co-producer of the Varsity Show, says, “I have dedicated my entire life
to this show, and I feel great about it.” Everyone I talked to finds the
same pride and joy in their work, despite the time commitment.
When
they look to the future, they are uncertain but do not despair. Gina
Borden, BC’14, is a choreographer for the show. She loves to dance, and
she expects that after college she will continue to dance unpaid. “The
great thing about New York City is that there are so many opportunities
for not prominent choreographers and dancers to perform. Even if you’re
not getting paid, you will be able to find a group of people that you
can work with on a weekly or monthly basis,” Gina says. Whatever
happens, she will find a way to incorporate dance into her life because
she can’t do without it.
All
this passion and dedication for theater almost fell on deaf ears. I
want to make films, and I love the arts, really I do, but I had never
felt the emotional draw that everyone kept describing. What was it that
made theater just as exciting for a college dance major as it was for a
65 year-old lawyer at After Work? Fortunately for me (and my editor, and
you) I got my answer the weekend before I wrote this article. One of my
film TAs invited me to help on a graduate film shoot. I arranged
snacks, ordered food, and made coffee for the two days of shooting at a
film studio in Brooklyn, and it was the best weekend I’ve had in a long
time.
When
I asked Evan Greenberg about the power of the performing arts, he
explained, “It’s a collaborative art that we’re talking about. It’s
really much more than the art; it’s the art as a mode of connection with
other human beings”. That’s what I saw at the film shoot. There was an
incredible amount of work to be done—they had to build the set from the
ground up—but the teamwork was seamless. Being a part of the film shoot
was like being a tiny gear inside a beautiful clock. Seeing all the
gears align themselves and then seeing the final product was one of the
most exciting things I’ve done in college.
The
After Work Theater Project, the Varsity Show, and the many other
creative opportunities all over the city create a feeling of community
based on building something together. Every individual is a valuable
part of a wonderful production. According to Nick Parker, CC’14,
lyricist for the Varsity Show, “It’s almost like discovering what is
best about yourself.” Some people don’t need that kind of community in
their lives, but I can’t understand how anyone wouldn’t want it, and how
anyone could live without it once they felt it. The participants of the
After Work Theater Project can’t go on without it, and neither can the
crew of the Varsity show, and neither can I.
