As a director, my biggest fear coming into this process was that we would never be able to be in community with one another in the way that we expect as theatre-makers. Many of the formative moments in an artistic process are the ones that happen off the stage. It’s the “in-betweens” that often mean the most: the chats on break, the musings at the end of a long rehearsal, the goofs and witty repartee that begin as a joke but then ultimately lead to something genius. These are the moments where relationships thrive and as a result, inspiration ensues. In March of 2020, I was deeply mourning these moments. They began to feel like a treasured relic of the past.

In January of 2021, after months of rehearsing this production on Zoom from our respective homes, we joined together in the Marshall Performing Arts Center for the very first time. As I stood in a very large, very physically distanced circle surrounded by cast, crew, and production team, I was made blatantly aware of how foolish my initial fears were. Despite the distance, despite the time away from one another, and despite the sheer exhaustion that 11 months in a pandemic-driven world brings, the energy was still palpable. Artists are still artists, even when the medium has changed.

Theatre is an art of storytelling, and each one of us contributes to a layer of the storytelling in some unique way. Our roles have certainly shifted from our traditional expectations quite a bit in this production. Actors are now lighting designers, sound technicians, and props coordinators. Scenic designers are now digital media experts. Technical directors are now green screen supervisors. Dramaturgs are now web designers - something you've already seen if you're reading this right now. Stage managers are now Zoom Commanders-In-Chief, in addition to their preexisting roles as The Ones Who Hold It All Together™. Rehearsal and production photos are now screenshots of Zoom meetings. Conversations on breaks in rehearsal now require muting and unmuting yourself via a button on the bottom left corner of your screen.

However, there is one constant that has remained: the glow in the eyes of these extraordinary artists. Despite the challenges, despite the screen fatigue, and despite the many other mitigating circumstances, these students have brought their unique artistries to this production. It wasn’t always easy to do so. As a fellow collaborator in these uncharted territories, I am immensely grateful for the resiliency and willingness of these students to commit to the act of storytelling.

As a community, we could all use some genuine storytelling right now. My hope is that you will identify with some stories in this evening’s production. You’ll see many stories, in fact - 50 or more. Perhaps you’ll identify with some in a way that will lead you to smile. Perhaps you’ll identify with some in a way that will force you to cringe. Some might make you laugh, and some might leave you with unanswered questions.

It is my great pleasure to invite you here tonight to UMD Theatre’s very first live virtual production: Caryl Churchill’s Love and Information. Go ahead and take advantage of all this format has to offer. You can unwrap your candies at any time during the show. You can grab your favorite blanket or slippers and cozy up. You can laugh, cry, scream, or shout as boldly as you wish without anyone in the theatre giving you side-eye. Let us make the best of our current situation and remember that against all odds, storytelling will continue.