Director's Notes (Blackstock's Blog)

I no longer care about winning region one-act, and it's your fault--you actors! you designers! you playwright! We've won regions and filled the hallway with trophies. Like the Interesting Man says of marriage in Eurydice, "...lots of people do that." We have the opportunity that is becoming rarer in high school theatre--a chance to stage and, thereby, appreciate the genius of a fellow and far superior artist in Sarah Ruhl.

By superior, I don't mean superior just to us. I mean superior to the playwrights of victimhood that seem to be in vogue, superior to the judges who redirect plays they don't even try to follow, and superior to the agenda pushers--those ephemeral playwrights recording for posterity the triviality of an hourglass age.

I am reading Ruhl's 100 Essays. With each essay I read, my hidden tendency becomes overtly adamant: The play's the thing, and when this show is over, many of us will not have the chance to do this play again. Those who do will almost definitely not be working with this same wonderful cast.

In 2009-2010, RCHS won several awards, including region one-act for the first time in over twenty years. Our most memorable experience, however, may have been Boy's Next Door. We didn't even take this to a competition, but it's to the day the best play we've staged. In staging this play, we prioritized integrity over audience and purpose. The audience, by the way, loved it.

Yes, Eurydice is a much different play, but it's not a completely different situation. We have the chance to stage all the brilliant ideas the actors and designers continue to assemble as the playbuilding process continues. I have Best Performer trophies in this case in the hall, and I don't even know who won half of them. I remember watching Boys Next Door while standing in the hall next to that trophy case. I had to watch it out there because the studio filled with an appreciative audience. I remember the parents that were inspired by Death of a Salesman and Hush. I remember which lines brought the most laughter in Arsenic and Old Lace, Nunsense, and Miss Firecracker (both casts). I built a play with some of my favorite people in Beautiful Maladies. If I had to choose, I would dump every trophy into Lethe and hold tight the memories.

I want us to have memories--to make and earn memories, and winning is a pretty cool memory, too, but I don't want us to wonder what could have been if our priorities placed art over arbitrary. Let's maintain the standards of our sacred space, even in an underworld playground of mediocrity.

Here's what we learn from Eurydice: Cherish memories, but don't look back!

I used to watch the Tour de France a lot during the summers. Major bike races require incredible dedication, not only of time and energy but also of physical stamina and strength. As grueling as the races became, many riders took only one week off after the month-long race before they started training for next year. The sport in general is tough, and part of my interest stemmed from its inclusion in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, one of my favorites books. If Papa Hemingway loved the sport, it must be an incredible struggle between life and death.

If you watch the Tour de France or other races like it, one of the first startling concepts is that bicycle racing on this level is a team sport. You don’t just ride as fast as you can on your own because humans get tired. They become unmotivated, and the pain and the struggle start to take over. For this reason, the racers work together as a team to make sure that the lead riders always have a wheel to follow. The idea is that an individual will keep pace with a team member until it is time to break away. Even more interesting is that there is not just one but many races going on at the same time. For example, I may help set a pace today to help you win the Sprinter’s Jersey. Tomorrow, you may set a pace for me, so I can become King of the Mountain. After that, we both may help another team member take the Yellow Jersey as the overall leader. The team has to be a tight, tough group of proud, strong individuals. No one can take up your slack or you make the team weak, but you can do your best on a team where everyone else is doing the same.

Watching the TDF, I learned that no matter how independent each of us want to be, team sports require strong teams, but not everyone is a star at the same time. Today, we work together to make this actor stronger: she catches our wheel and stays motivated to finish strong. Next time, we help with research so that our extemporaneous speakers represent us well at literary. I may not be a great singer, but I can design a lighting pattern that makes someone else look good on stage, and that person then makes my design appear brilliant. When it’s your turn to shine, catch someone’s wheel. Stay motivated, stay strong, and stay together until it’s time to help push a rider across the finish line. If you get the push today after riding someone’s wheel, provide the wheel tomorrow and push someone to reach his or her potential.

While watching the races, I also learned that the greater champions loved when the course got harder. Everyone from every team can ride the hundred-mile courses every day because they have all trained, but the higher mountains separate the good competitors from the great champions. The great ones look forward to the mountains because the tough terrain thins the herd--the “peloton” as they call it. Up to this point, only the sprinters can separate themselves, and they can do this only on special days when the day’s ride is longer--when it’s tougher for everyone. The great sprinters want long rides so they can separate themselves; the champions want to reach the Alps to separate themselves.

Comfort offers mediocrity. Struggle enables greatness.

Adversity does not give us a reason to complain. Turmoil does not require us to become victims. Conflict provides an opportunity to separate ourselves--the great--from those who are merely good when the going is easy.

The coming weeks will be tough, the competition is very good, and we are engaged in an activity so tough that many schools our size can’t even participate. We’re headed into the mountains, y’all, and when I look at the team we have this year, I’m glad.