On early Monday, August 6th – right after my densest stretch of work in a long time – I got to join in the collective joy that was the landing of the Curiosity rover on Mars.I was crying on my couch at headset chatter and strangers eating peanuts. I hadn’t personally accomplished a single thing but the sheer audacity of the Curiosity mission had Aaron Sorkin in my head:
That it all (apparently) worked exactly as designed was a bonus (they WERE like a mile and a half off target). These brilliant people put everything they had into planning and executing a pure research mission to Mars. What could a real world product of the collected creative minds we have at work here at #2amt put out?
What would you even want to put out?
Our spoken dreams have gotten small. For most of us the thought of a midrange salary at a theatre guaranteed to have funding for a couple of years is a dream.
The first commission.
A full production instead of workshops.
My own ArtsDepot idea is honestly only a modest redevelopment project.
It’s not enough. It’s not enough for the effort you’ve already put in never mind the future effort.
What is the Capital D Dream?
I have spent a week running this idea past people and mulling and cogitating and… I have no idea. We spend so much time and energy, physical and mental, on the mundanity of making this merry-go-round spin that mostly we consider better paint and fancier screws rather than any sort of grand ideal. Part of the wonder on this new social age has been the luxury of batting around a big idea or two and talking aloud about new models.
But even that feels like rearranging the deck furniture most days.
What is a totally impractical fantasy that would inspire others to look at our field with the wonder they did when make-believe ruled the day? How can we stop reinventing the festival and whining about the lack of opportunity and become something more like a Theatre Propulsion Laboratory?
What is our Curiosity?