Broadway, One Year Later

Today marks one year that Broadway has been dark, and while the occasion might be seeped in sorrow and frustration, I think it’s important to also mark just how transformative this year has been for the industry.

I remember the shutdown rolling through Broadway, and just how eerie it felt. I was at work on a break when I saw that Moulin Rouge! had announced their performances would be suspended. And then Jagged Little Pill. And then the Broadway League was pulling the plug on every theatre in the district. It seemed so surreal. But what could I really do from my office in Los Angeles?

Then the venues in Los Angeles started to shut down. The Pantages in Hollywood reassured theatre fans their highly-anticipated return of Hamilton would be back very soon.

Just a day later we were told to pack up our offices and that we would be working from home until further notice.

I think at the time it felt very confusing for us all.

Prior to COVID, I was buying tickets to see a show about every month to two months. I always booking something. I always had something to look forward to. I think that was part of the thrill. Knowing I was going to get to be in a room and experience art in a singular moment. I could make it through a tough work day if I had a musical or cabaret to look forward to. Suddenly, the thrill was taken away with no exact plan to return.

Like many, I’m sure, it was disappointing. Plans were canceled. While frustrating, it was hard to realize there was also nothing I could do.

As I have spoken with colleagues as we’ve come closer to the anniversary of this day, I think we all have been impacted by the lack of something to look forward to. There’s the ominous “one day, when everything is open again” —but when?

As sad as it is to say, I knew when Broadway shutdown, it wouldn’t be just a month. Even on the extension, I knew that wouldn’t be the case either. I didn’t see a way you could safely gather people in a theatre when this virus could be transmitted so easily. Often times in a theatre, you already feel like you’re going to catch something from being so close. I’ve seen shows during flu season and sat with people coughing and sniffling around me the whole show. I knew there wasn’t going to be an easy answer to a highly-contagious virus.

In the last year I have learned a lot about myself and what is important to me. I’m not a performer, or arts industry worker, so I can’t say my day-to-day life was completely turned upside down. But in this time I have been home, in quarantine, whatever you may call it, I have learned what things I sorely miss, and what things I value enough to continue once we do return to a somewhat normal state.

I try to reframe thoughts about this entire situation to be positive. Instead of being upset I’m stuck inside, I try to be grateful for the opportunity to work on things I might not have time for otherwise. Instead of being upset theatres are closed, I am grateful for the virtual opportunities that have allowed me to watch concerts and Q&As I wouldn’t probably have been able to if I wasn’t in NYC. It brought me to think about what makes me want to be in the room, and what more can I contribute than just eagerly waiting ticket sales with a credit card in hand.

I still can’t wait for shows to return, don’t get me wrong. I can’t wait to sit in a theatre, even if it has to be with a mask on for the entire performance. I think the last year has just taught me that I want to be a more active member of the arts community than just a casual fan. It’s part of where this enitre blog came from. It has given me time and space to reflect on what’s next for me.

I know my role is small here, and I know my life was not uprooted in nearly the same way as so many other artists, but I am hopeful for the time we can all join together again. I hope that when we do, there are bright, new perspectives, and changed perspectives. This has been a tremendous opportunity for this industry—and the world— to learn, and I hope to see a return of a space that can implement some of those lessons and insights we gained over the last year. Until then, I can’t wait until the curtain rises again.