Adirondack Theatre Festival

Now that the season is over, I find myself once again in the balance between economics and art, something I’ll bet I’ll be touching on more as I talk about some of the plays that I’m reading as possible choices for next year.  ALTAR BOYZ was a huge success for us, but it begs an interesting question:  What does a hit show mean for ATF?

I think the first thing people think when they see a sold out show is a huge influx of cash.  And it’s simple addition to show that a full house at a show generates money coming in, which helps with the money that’s going out.  Last week I talked a little bit about royalties and what that meant in terms of things we pay out.  And of course there are all the other line items that come from a show like this:  extra rehearsals because of the dancing, costs of housing, cars, laundry, and so on.  But the resources generated by a hit show in an organization like ATF do something much larger.  I liken it to a pharmaceutical company, but on a MUCH smaller scale.  After years and years of research (and lots of money) if one of their drugs (out of thousands of failed attempts) is a success and cures a given disease or ailment it does indeed make the company a lot of money. But that money also covers the costs of all the failed experiments and drugs that weren’t successes.  In other words, the profits cover the expense of research and development.  ATF is in many ways a research and development company. Instead of pharmaceuticals we develop shows.  Our mission is to provide a stage for new and contemporary plays, not tried and true titles. That mission involves increased risk, but also increased rewards.  Our core audience not only understands this risk, they are active participants in the experiment. They are along for the whole ride – both successes and failures. When we have a magical hit, such as ALTAR BOYZ, lots of other people flock to the theatre to see it.  This revenue helps covers expenses for those productions that weren’t box office hits.

Now some people might say, “So why don’t you just do hits?”  Certainly this strategy makes sense:  more hits= more money, and then that money would make us able to do bigger shows and so on.  But there are a couple of problems with that line of thought.  One problem is, of course, is that “hit” is elusive and idiosyncratic.  Even though people try to figure a “hit” formula (did you read the NYTimes Magazine article a while back on developing a formula for pop songs?), there’s no guarantee, particularly with live theatre, that something will be a hit—even if it’s been a hit in other places.  ALTAR BOYZ is actually a prime example of this.  Huge hit here, but it bombed in Hawaii.  So there’s no guarantee there.

If you try to go for hits, you’ll never be very consistent because you’re focusing on something elusive.  Instead, you want to go for things that are meaningful and ask important questions or start conversations.  That’s what we did with ALTAR BOYZ.  I was pretty sure that people would be very excited, because it’s a very special show.  But I still was interested in it because it fit into the message of the season.  I thought we could have a conversation about it—sure, different from the ones we had with LOVE SONG or FILLER UP, but a conversation nonetheless.

Because the only way to do good theatre (my opinion, of course) is to focus on shows that examine important issues or ask interesting questions, you could say that every show we do at ATF has the potential to be a hit.  But we all know that some shows are going to have a greater appeal than others.  To go back to the pharmaceutical company, sometimes pharmaceutical companies investigate drugs that, even if successful, will only serve a relatively small population of people – but still, that drug is incredibly important to that small population). In addition, such a drug may not be a big moneymaker, but the process of making that drug often results in other areas of inquiry—new ways to fight a different kind of disease or another experiment.  Same thing with theatre.  The other shows we do are often very important to people. I know for example that BEHAVE YOURSELF was not the most popular play at ATF. However while talking to an area business leader a while back he told me he that was his favorite show of the 2007 season, even over the hit TICK, TICK, BOOM! And after being presented at ATF, Olympia Dukakis expressed interest in BEHAVE YOURSELF and participated in a reading of the show in NYC with her husband Louis Zorch. Presenting that show at ATF may pave the way for new discoveries, which can lead to hits down the road — both for ATF and for the playwright, Leslie Ayvazian. Our investment therefore isn’t just in an individual show, but individual artists.

Now, the analogy to pharmaceutical companies isn’t perfect, but it’s a good start—as always, one that might get a conversation going.  As I try to balance inflows and outflows, choice of shows and balance of plans is always on my mind.  After all, following up on ALTAR BOYZ is going to be tough.  But I guess I should take my own advice, and focus on the questions and conversations underneath.  I’m getting ready to go to Toronto, and I’ve got a pile of scripts to plow through.  More about those, and their hit potential, in the coming days.

Since you have been so kind as to read my blog about ATF, I thought I’d share a blog I recently discovered and now read on a regular basis:

www.theproducersperspective.com

This is Ken Davenport’s blog. Ken is a successful commercial producer in New York City who came up through the ranks as a company manager and general manager. In his blog Ken shares his observations and tips for producing in NYC. While he isn’t in the non-profit world, many of his posts are very applicable to what I do here at ATF. One of the categories in his blog is “Kenisms”. Be sure to check them out.

If you had a good time at ALTAR BOYZ this summer, Ken is one of the people you have to thank. He was one of the creators of ALTAR BOYZ. He is a producer with his finger on the pulse and definitely keeps his eyes and ears open to everything going on in the business. Imagine my surprise when I found a very thoughtful comment from Ken on my blog.

I discovered Ken’s blog when I heard him interviewed on Broadway Bullet (www.broadwaybullet.com), a pod cast about, you guessed it, theatre in NYC. If you are interested in behind the scenes information about shows in NYC, be sure to subscribe. Michael Gilboe is a very gracious host and he gets some amazing guests on his show from a full range of NYC Theatre (Broadway, off-Broadway, and off-off-Broadway).

Enjoy!

Now that all the production staff, actors and interns have left, a lot of people ask what Lisa and I are doing in the office. The truth of the matter is there are plenty of administrative loose ends to tie up. Plus, I am already starting to plan for next summer.

One of the main administrative tasks is calculating the royalty payments for ALTAR BOYZ. Royalties are the fees paid to the creators of a show. In the case of ALTAR BOYZ this means the two composers (Gary Adler and Michael Patrick Walker), book writer (Kevin Aguila) and the two men who conceived the show (Ken Davenport and Marc Kessler). The creators don’t get the checks directly, though. Typically, they turn the show over to a publisher who coordinates these matters for them, which is the case for AB.

ALTAR BOYZ was licensed through the Rodgers and Hammerstein Theatricals. As their name implies, they are the holders of the rights for all the famous R&H shows (South Pacific, Oklahoma, The Sound of Music, etc) but they also hold the rights for other shows including ALTAR BOYZ. “Rights”are just that. When you have the “rights” you have the right to perform the show. Before ATF, or any theatre for that matter, can produce a show it has to apply for the rights. These are the rights to perform the piece and charge admission. We applied for the rights to ALTAR BOYZ back in December of 2007. We were granted the rights on January 4^th and had to sign a contract and put down a royalty deposit of $5,400. I’ll write more about this process later in the fall when I start applying for next summer’s shows.

Once the show finishes performances, we have to pay the balance due for the royalties of the show. Royalties for professional productions are calculated as a percentage of gross ticket sales. This way, if the theatre makes more money because a show is a hit, the show’s creators do too. And at the same time, if the show isn’t a success, the creators don’t make as much money. So the relationship links the potential income for both parties to the box office success of the show (For amateur productions, royalties are often calculated as a flat fee, as in $120 per performance). The percentages vary depending on the show and how good a negotiator you are as a producer. For ALTAR BOYZ, a popular show still running off-Broadway, the royalty rate was rather high: 11% of gross weekly box office receipts (GWBOR). However, we can’t just send in a check. Like in algebra class, we have to show our work. The publisher wants to see how we calculated the royalty payment amount, and rightfully so. This is because there are several factors that are used in calculating the royalty amount. For example, ATF has several ticket prices. The highest, $30, is the regular ticket price. A subscriber pays less, $23. There is also our tix@6 program that provides $10 for people 25 and under. And there are group rates and so on. It’s a lot of numbers to keep straight and R&H Theatricals wants to know how many tickets we sold in each category. Thank goodness we started using a computerized ticketing system this season.

Once we figure out the gross amount from all the different price categories, the publisher allows us some discounts. For example, we can deduct 10% of our group sales revenue and 10% of subscriber tickets to make up for the discounts we offered these patrons. With all our paper work in order we will then write R&H a check for any royalties that exceed our initial deposit of $5,400. These aren’t the kinds of numbers you want to mess up, so calculating them takes a good bit of time the first time, and then a bunch of double checking.

We calculate and pay royalties for all our shows. The royalties for LOVE SONG and FILLER UP! were completed earlier in the season as the publishers ask for the payment within one week of the final performance. So ALTAR BOYZ is our final royalty obligation.

As I sign that royalty check for ALTAR BOYZ I find that old division, artist vs. producer, popping up over and over again. I do not deny that creators of shows deserve their cut. If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have a show to produce. ATF is committed to developing artists and part of that is a belief they should be compensated. I remember hearing the playwright Edward Albee speak about this. He said, “plays are like children. You hope they grow up and get jobs.” Additional productions at various theatres are the “jobs” and the paycheck (or royalties) from these productions provides writers the income to create their next show. And that show is hopefully something we want to produce. Yet 11% of gross ticket revenue often feels like a big hit (for a non-musical it is around 7 – 9%). I have a responsibility to the theatre and must find ways to balance all expenses so as to support all the people involved and provide them with the tools and materials they need to produce the shows you want to see. As I start putting together the budget for 2009 it is amazing how all of these expenses add up: Royalties, rent for the Wood Theater (5% of our annual budget), a $1 per seat ticket fee we pay the Wood Theater on top of rent, housing (6% of our annual budget), artists transportation (3% of our annual budget) and so on. And I haven’t even gotten to hiring actors and other artists. It adds up quickly.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot as I start to plan the shows for the next season, but I want to write a more detailed post about that a little later. For now, I’m content to finish up these administrative loose ends before heading out to see more new shows.”

The day after the festival ended, someone asked me if I was relaxed now that the festival was over. While in some ways the pressure had ended, the reality is when you throw a party, you still have to clean up the next day. And for ATF that means about 4 days of clean up. The show itself has to be taken apart (we call that “strike”), but we also have to pack up all our tools and equipment and take them to our various storage areas. In addition we return the equipment and items we borrowed and rented. Plus we clean the Wood Theater and set it up so it is easy for other groups to use it. ATF reconfigures everything in the Wood Theater for each show—moving lights around, changing the sound configuration and so on. But other groups who rent the building often don’t have the technical expertise of our staff or the time, so they use what is known as the “rep plot”—a basic lighting and sound set up that covers the stage. So Sean and Kevin and their crews had to put that up before we left the building.

I helped in this process by returning the musical instruments and props for ALTAR BOYZ. We rented these items from people in NYC. I already had some meetings in the city so rather than make a staff member make the round trip I said I would take a one-way rental down to the city, drop off the items and the truck and then take the train back later in the week. When I went to pick up the truck, they did not have the 10 foot truck I requested. They “upgraded” me to a 14 foot truck. I had never driven in the city before and now my first experience was going to be a 14 foot truck. This “upgrade” would cause more challenges than I expected.

I took off early Tuesday morning. It was a great drive. I actually enjoy driving. I got my cup of coffee and a sleeve of powdered donuts and happily made my way down 87 following the instructions dictated by the voice on my GPS device. Just outside of the Lincoln Tunnel I called the people to whom I was making the delivery and said I was just 15 minutes away. Not long after that I discovered that trunks longer than 13 feet aren’t allowed in the tunnel. Stupidly I did not bring a map (trusting my GPS instead). So I had to ask Melinda to reroute me onto the George Washington Bridge. Then, when I got to the bridge I learned that I had to go on the upper level since I was a truck. My GPS device was routing me to the lower level. With the voice constantly saying, “recalculating,” I drove around trying to find my way back to the upper level entrance. I finally made it. But of course the GPS wanted me to take the Westside Highway. And there are no trucks allowed on the West Side Highway. So I made my way all the way down Broadway from 179^th, veering right onto Columbus to 49^th where after negotiating some one-way streets arrived at my first delivery. After that it was smooth sailing. But I was happy to finally get rid of the truck and plop in to cab. I did it. But next time I get an idea to drive into the city, I hope it is in a sedan…

Now I am here seeing some shows as I start to plan for next season. I know it seems early, but we had last season largely finalized in December. That means I have to have a good idea of what we’re doing in October/November if I want to be on the same schedule this year, which I do. So right now I’m in exploration mode to try to find three more great shows.

The final performance of Altar Boyz was enthusiastically received by the audience. There were many people seeing the show for the 2^nd and 3^rd time and most of ATF’s Board of Directors were in attendance, always a good sign.

It was also a heart stopping performance at the beginning of the show when Xavier’s (Juan) microphone didn’t work. It must have also been a panic moment for him, but he never showed it. He kept performing, trusting that the technical staff would fix the problem. Watching Jason, Sean, Bruce and others on the team address the situation, formulate a plan and go into action within mere moments, I knew they would solve the problem. Jason is the sound guy for the theatre, but he couldn’t leave his position at the sound board given the complexity of the show. Neither did we want to stop the show. Sean, our master electrician stepped in. He asked a couple whispered questions (Jason’s sound board is positioned at the back of the audience) then took off running down the back stairs to backstage.

Looking at the read outs in the sound booth Jason thought the mute switch on Xavier’s microphone pack was on. (Every actor wore a small, battery operated wireless pack that transmitted the sound. Where they wore it depended on their costume. For some, it was around their waist. For others, including Xavier, it was strapped around their chest.) A mute switch is a relatively easy and fast fix. So after the second number, “Rhythm in Me,” motioned for Xavier to go off stage where Sean and two interns attempted to fix the problem. Xavier had to take his vest and shirt off so they could flip the switch. They flipped it, and then helped Xavier dress and get back on stage for the next number — with Lee (Luke) covering one of Juan’s lines. But when the Boyz went to do the next number the mic still wasn’t working. At the end of that number the stage manager sent our sound intern Renee on stage with a hand held microphone for Xavier. This allowed the audience to hear Xavier, but he also had to dance with it. Meanwhile the team kept problem solving. At the next opportunity, when Shadoe Stevens addresses the boyz as G.O.D., Xavier went back off stage, undressed again and Sean switched out the battery in the pack.

When Xavier reentered to sing “The Calling” Sean arrived at my side at the back of the theatre to tell me the problem was a dead battery. He said it was fixed, but we both held our breath waiting for the moment when Xavier has his only solo line in the song, a single word at the end of the song: “word.” We heard it loud and clear and that single “word” prompted a big sigh of relief, and even bigger smiles with high fives all around for the sound team and stage managers. The show kept going and ended with yet another standing ovation.

The fact that this was our first microphone error during the whole run is quite amazing. It’s not something we want to happen, but it is something we plan for. It is the reason ATF hires a professional production staff. They don’t panic. They know what to do and do it. We never stopped the show, and Xavier was being cared for by the offstage staff so that he could do his job as a performer. While I was a panicked producer at the start of the show, I was an incredibly proud producer by the end. I also appreciate the audience that stuck with us as we dealt with the problem. All they knew was that it was fixed. And that’s just how it should be.

Today is the last day of Altar Boyz. Its been an incredible run. 6 additional performances and sold out houses. When we added the extra matinee for today, I was worried that it wouldn’t sell. This morning there were only 18 seats remaining and by show time we had a waiting list (I’m happy to report everyone who wanted to see the show got in).

It’s been a challenging week for everyone in the box office and front of house. First, people were still calling in wanting tickets. They seemed surprised and at times even angry that there are no seats available. They have expressed to us they can’t believe a show in Glens Falls is sold out. The great thing about having a hit show is that it’s brought people into the theatre who have never seen an ATF show. And in talking with these new patrons, I discover many of them do not normally go to theatre in general, and to the Wood Theater in particular. The staff is fantastic at making people feel welcome, getting people into their seats, pointing out where the restrooms are (not intuitive at all), and making restaurant recommendations and so on. But on the other hand, many people who aren’t used to going to the theatre tend to assume it works like a movie: even if you show up 10 minutes late, you’ve just missed the preview; plus, you enter from the back so you just sneak in to wherever you can find a space. Of course for us, it’s not quite like that. If you come late to one of our shows, you come in through the front of the theatre and climb up, so you really get to make an entrance. Plus there’s the sold-out nature of the show. We have had big stand by lists, and right at 8 we release the seats to let those stand by patrons in. So imagine you’re new to the theatre, you get to the building, thinking you’ve got time, and you find that not only are the doors shut, but you’re told your seat isn’t available any more. Then, if you’re lucky, you’re shown an available seat, but you have to walk in front of a big, quiet crowd to get it. And then, to make matters worse, for some people, they then have to go to the bathroom. And there’s no intermission, and the performers are at times in the audience. It makes for quite an evening. But on the other hand (how many hands is that now?), I’m completely thrilled to have these “problems.” Altar Boyz has done better than I ever dreamed it would. I think we’ve done a good job of managing the chaos of a sold-out show. And I’m hopeful that for some of these new patrons, they’ll keep coming back.

In about 1 hour and 20 minutes, I’ll do the final talk back of the season. And I feel actually quite wistful about it all. I’ve had a great time talking with people before and after the shows, and I’m sorry that it’s ending. It’s good to end on a high note, though. All of us–admin staff, tech staff, and artists–are pretty tired, and I think another show would really have exhausted everyone. Of course, the success of Altar Boyz also is making me a little nervous. I’m already trying to figure out what we can do next year to come even close to such a great show. If you have any ideas….

I thought you should be the first to know that we’ve added an additional performance of Altar Boyz on Saturday, July 26 at 4:00 pm. We have all been overwhelmed and overjoyed at the response to this show. Last night I learned there were less than 20 seats left for the week, and people were still calling in. Our board member and founder David Turner suggested that we try to add a performance. So later last night, I began investigating that possibility.

I sent out some emails and calls to department heads and the cast. I also spoke to the Actors’ union, Actors’ Equity Association, to make sure we were within out contractual bounds to do this and we are. Our agreement, known as a Small Professional Theatre Contract (SPT) Level 6 allows for six performances a week and we have only been doing five. Even though the actors were contractually obligated to do the additional performance, I also wanted to make sure they were willingly on board. After all, this show is really physical and vocal work.  And they were. They have really enjoyed spending time here in the North Country. The people have been so friendly and welcoming. They, like me, didn’t like to think someone who wanted to see the show couldn’t.

While they were an important piece of the puzzle, the main consideration was actually costumes. When the show ends the boyz are dripping in sweat. Every costume piece needs to be washed, dried and ironed between the performances. This responsibility falls on Alarie Hammock, our extraordinary wardrobe supervisor ,and her intern Kalyn Lummis. I called and asked Alarie if it was possible to do the 2 show day. She said she would need at a minimum two hours between shows to do the job. We can’t have them going on stage in damp jeans to sing and dance. And since the costume designer, Steve Epstein, had created such unique pieces we couldn’t buy or make a second set of costumes for the boyz. They would need to be cleaned. Despite the work load I was adding (on the final day, with strike looming after the show), Alarie was enthusiastic and on board.

Alarie working backstage

I had originally thought to schedule this matinée at 5pm, but hearing this from Alarie I decided upon 4pm. This way the boyz, the band and the crew will get a break — which will include dinner in the rehearsal hall. I promise Alarie and Kalyn get a dinner once the costumes are finished.

So now that it’s all settled, I’m working to get the word out about this extra performance.  In the next couple of hours, I’ll be calling radio stations, newspapers, and anyone else I can think of to let people know.  More work, yes, but work of the best kind.

As the festival draws to a close, we have turned our attention from preparing for shows to maintenance projects.

The ATF office, located at 50 Elm, was donated to us in 2005 by the Saunders. The building is our single largest asset as it houses the office as well as two apartments. So since Altar Boyz is running like a well oiled machine, I asked the interns and staff to spend Monday doing a little overdue maintenance at 50 Elm.

This included brushing the rust off the fence that surrounds the property and then painting it. Watching them work looked just like a scene out of Tom Sawyer.

In addition they painted the garage door and repaired some boards on the two porches.

Since we recognize this work falls outside the scope of “technical theatre,” Melinda and I prepared a BBQ lunch for everyone. As the group ate I was reminded of the first BBQ we held when everyone arrived in early June. Back then everyone was so quiet. It is clear that over the course of the summer the group has bonded. Unlike that first BBQ, today they weren’t shy about eating and talking.

We also used the lunch as a chance to receive feedback from the interns on the internship. The internship is a very important education program. Yes the interns are the backbone of our work force, but we also want their time here to be a springboard for the profession. For example, the weekly Intern Lunch provides not only a free lunch (something they all appreciated), but the chance to ask questions of the various artists and technicians who work with us. Many of the interns said this was what they most looked forward to every week.

For the most part their feedback was positive. As in past years, they wished their housing was closer (they live in Corinth — 25 miles away) and that we could offer them more of a stipend (they get $200 for the summer), but overall they each felt they had made connections and learned skills that would serve them in the future. Having been an intern myself at several theaters, I am glad that the experience at ATF is such a positive one.

Now that Altar Boyz is up and running, the actors, crew, musicians and everyone who works on the show have fallen into a comfortable rhythm. During the technical rehearsals it often feels like you will never be able to do everything that needs to be done. There is a lot of adrenaline. But after a few performances you know your job, and you know you can do it.

The company starts arriving as early at 5:30 pm before an 8pm show. We start with any general clean up and maintenance from the previous evening. For example, Deana, our house manager, walks through the seating area picking up left behind programs and trash. Sean, our master electrician, and Joe, the electrics intern, perform a dimmer check, turning on every stage light to make sure that they all work and that none of the lamps (the theatre term for “light bulb”) have burned out. Brandon, the production assistant, makes sure the props and other items are in place for the performance. One of his most important tasks is filling up all the water bottles the Boyz depend on during the show. He actually has a special laundry hamper in which he carries them from the sink to the stage.

So you can get a glimpse of what goes here are some pre-show photos. Enjoy!

Volunteer ushers prepare the programs for the evening’s performance.

Dorothy practices before everyone arrives. What I find amazing about this is she works her fingering without any sound coming out of the keyboard.

Sean plays video games on the Soul Sensor — everyone has their own pre-game warm up.

The Boyz and sound intern Renee check the microphones to make sure they are ready for the performance. In addition Gary and the band check the volume of the electronic instruments.

Jason, the sound designer, talks with Todd (Abraham) about a microphone issue.

Matt clowns around on the drums. (Gary doesn’t look amused, or he isn’t thrilled I’m taking his picture.)

Gary gives the Boyz some notes from the previous night’s performance. Each night the Boyz and Gary review specific sections of songs to make sure they’re 100%.

While the audience arrives the company moves to the backstage area to wait until 8pm.

The cast and crew relax in the green room before the show.

Stage manager, Shannon, gives intern Kayln some advice. Or maybe she’s telling a joke. Shannon keeps everyone on their toes and laughing at the same time.

Finally the audience arrives and the Boyz wait in wings ready to perform.

For the past two evenings, audiences have witnessed not only a new play in development, but a very brave act of creation: staged readings of Deb Filler’s new play, Well, I’ll Tell Ya…

Audiences lauded Deb Filler and her performance of Filler Up! That show had five years of development before we brought it back here to Glens Falls. Filler Up! was presented at ATF on a complete set with sound and lights. Well, I’ll Tell Ya… on the other hand, provided audiences here in Glens Falls a first glimpse at a show in its rawest state of development. Deb and her director, Louise Fagan, spent a week in the rehearsal room writing material and then shaping it into an evening. Deb then shared this new work with audiences on both Sunday and Monday for the first time ever. It was just Deb, her guitar and the material. There was little to no technical support and the readings took place on the set of Altar Boyz. This was a purposeful decision as it allowed audiences, the director and Deb to focus solely on the material and not the other layers of performance (sets, lights, sound and special effects) that can often cover up issues with a script.

Deb was nervous about these readings. I really applaud the risk she took after such a successful run of Filler Up! for many of the same audience members. I liken this experience to spending a lot of time writing a paper for school and then taking it to your parents who read it and then give you a whole lot of comments and then send you back to your room to rewrite it. I remember the way I felt as I brought those papers to my mom (a college English major) I thought I was done — that it was a brilliant piece of writing, but she would find fragments, misspelled words and other errors. But I took her criticism and went back to my desk making the paper stronger than it was before. 

Deb and Lousie experienced the same thing, only this wasn’t in the privacy of their home with a loving mom: it was in public with complete strangers. Deb was trying out new characters, trying to find the balance between characterization and stereotype, and attempting to link disparate comic and personal stories with an underlying theme. She and her director knew the work wasn’t finished and that this was their first public experiment. They took a deep breath and put it on the line.

Not only did they put this new material forward, they also came with specific questions inquiring about how the audience received the piece. We used these questions as the basis for two very productive post-show discussions. Audiences were very honest and willing to share their thoughts, observations and criticisms. I was impressed with their insight and even more impressed as Deb and Louise sat quietly listening to these complete strangers pick apart the play. I know that would be hard for me. I would want to jump up and defend the piece. But instead Deb and Louise took notes. Even after the discussion officially ended, they engaged individual audience members in follow up discussions. Then when everyone left, Deb and Louise headed straight to Denny’s with their scripts in hand to use what they had learned in the reading to prepare for the next stage of play development.

The audience the second night saw a very different show from the one the audience saw on the first night. Deb and Louise both told me how important that first audience was and how grateful they were for the support and criticism.

And I applaud the audiences that came. They played a valuable role in the development of this script and were supporting a core component of ATF’s mission. They embraced the risk and supported an artist as she took her first steps on the high wire. I said in the title that Deb was working without a net. In truth she did have one: the audience and the staff of ATF who while critical, were supporting her and cheering her on to success.