Dear Campers...

Once again, I apologize for a post that is unrelated to my directing endeavors. I wrote this letter for my high school campers a few weeks ago. It was read aloud so I'm sure I live edited it, but I was  asked to share it. I thought this would be the easiest way to do so. 

It's unedited and imperfect, but I love the teens I wrote it for and I hope it serves them well. #welikecamp

------------------------------------------

Campers, 

In case you didn't know, it's summer outside. And, as I've reflected on what I want to share with you in this precious time, this sliver of opportunity to hopefully make the tiniest impact on at least one of the one hundred of you listening to me read this, it's my prayer that at least one of these metaphors will resonate with you. And, that God will work in your heart, despite my odd writing style that spans from Perks of Being a Wallflower to Shel Silverstein and just a touch of Jon Jorgenson spoken word. 

All of us, all of you, we're in different seasons of life despite it being 95 degrees outside. Some of you are starting high school. Some of you are starting to drive. Maybe this is a new season for your friend group, your family, or your church. Maybe you're in a season of peace for the first time in a long time, or maybe this season, quite frankly... sucks. I could try and unpack the literal thousands of seasons high schoolers walk through in this letter, but that would take the whole week and even then I'd surely miss some. So, instead, I've decided to go with four. Because if four was good enough for God, it is good enough for me. 

What season do you find yourselves in, friends? Winter? Spring? Summer? Fall? 

If it's Fall and you have a mess in your yard, my suggestion is this- rake up those leaves and play in the pile! And, if it's cold, put on a hoodie and get back out there! 

If this is your emotional summer, grab a swim suit and jump in the pool. Enjoy the sun with others and remind one another it's BEAUTIFUL OUTSIDE! Invite them to put on their suit and come on in cuz the water isn't just FINE, it's INCREDIBLE! In the summertime, protect yourself daily because I can promise you this, if you skip your son screen, you're going to bed with a sinburn. But y'all, God's grace is better than aloe vera and while it takes humility to admit it when you've been burned, once you do and you accept the treatment, guys, it's soothing. And remember, if it's peeling, it's healing and that's gross but it's cool and when you're ready, get back in the pool!

When it's winter and it's cold and the pain's getting old, you know what I say? I say "it's OKAY!" Like little Peggy Ann McKay, it's alright to stay inside for a day and it's okay to wish the snow away and it's okay to stop and cry out for some sunshine cuz you're tired of tryin' and you're tired of lyin' whenever you say that you're okay cuz you're not okay, not today. But please, campers, don't wish that day away. 

Stop. Pray. Ask for help. If you don't know how to make a fire, SOMEONE DOES and SOMEONE WANTS TO HELP YOU MAKE ONE TOO. And while the voices of the world tell us to push away the people who aren't afraid to get some ash on their clothes for us, don't listen to those voices. Ya'll, the world tells us the second we let somebody stay longer than we absolutely HAVE to have them help us, we've become as fragile as those snowflakes outside. But guys, LOOK AT WHAT A MULTITUDE OF THOSE SNOWFLAKES CAN DO! Snowpocalypse. Snowmageddon. SNOW DAYS! SCHOOL IS CANCELLED. That's the power of the church, friends. It's a group of seemingly fragile and yet pristinely unique, one of a kind, hand-crafted-by-a-creator-God, works of art and together, they make a masterpiece. 

My slightly selfish prayer is that this is your Spring. I pray you find yourself comfortable, new, refreshed, and brimming with possibilities. I pray your emotional temperature is at a breezy 71 degrees and whatever you dress yourself in every morning, be it a simple prayer with breakfast, or your bible and your journal, or a run with your favorite pastor preaching truth through your genuine apple earbuds, whatever it is, I pray it'll do just fine all day long. 

But if not, know that here, you are loved. By us and CERTAINLY by God. No matter how ugly or beautiful your season, you're not alone and we are HONORED to share in it with you this week. 

With a good deal of love, 

Matthew Silar 

Where I'm at with all of this...

NOTE: This is A- longer than most of my blogs and I'm sorry for that, and B- not super-related to my work as a director. So, forgive me future employers. Read the post under this one. 

For the last three years, I've found myself in a position as a camp counselor for an overnight, middle school and high school theatre camp. Honestly, it's the best job in the world. One of the things I love about it is the opportunity to unplug for a week. Come Friday, I have at least a double digit number of texts I still haven't responded to and a triple digit number of emails. And sometimes, we miss a lot of the real world in that week. Last year, one of the major events we missed was the legalization of gay marriage. Rejoining the world of social media on Friday was unlike anything I had seen before. Everybody was posting about the same thing, in the way I imagine they would have had this level of social media been around in 2001.

That's happened a lot more this year it seems, and even more over the last few months. From freak-animal-accidents to shootings and police brutality, the trending topics on social media lately seem to have reached an all-time high when it comes to unanimity. And, those who follow me on social media may or may not have noticed that I tend to stay pretty quiet on mostly these topics. I'll discuss it in person, but I rarely find the words to write an articulate post deemed worthy of the internet. Here's why:

I don't know how I feel.

That's a scary, blanket statement and bares some elaboration. I obviously know I think senseless killing is wrong. I think people are worth more than animals. I think humans make mistakes and sometimes deserve some slack. I think racism is alive and rampant in a lot of this country. I think prejudice against dozens of people groups is alive and rampant in a lot of this country. I hate that people I love are living in fear. I hate that police officers don't make people feel safe. I hate that some Christians who should be much slower to speak are often the ones making sweeping statements in the name of all believers. I know how I feel about those things.

But, I don't have answers. I don't understand why these things are happening. I don't know what people mean when they tell me to "stop praying and start doing something about it." As a white, straight, Christian male, I face literally NONE of the prejudices in question. I'm of average height and build. I wear glasses and my voice is set just a tad higher than the average man's. These genetic happenstances make it so I can reach into my back pocket without others passing judgement or irrational fear. But the other night, on a long walk back to my car, I passed a stranger (who's race and gender I did not and still do not know) and my mind flashed back to my Facebook feed and I held my breath because I'm being told that everyone I know and love "could be next" so why NOT me? Subsequently, when I see a white male express a simple fear like this publicly, they are assailed with claims of their lack of empathy and understanding. It's overwhelming at times to think one sentence or word choice could be the difference between my status going viral, aglow with the newly introduced "LOVE" reactions OR starting a miniature civil war between several people I love, sharing blogposts and news outlets and youtube videos, all trying to prove their own point.

And as I wrestle out the literal thousands of possible of reactions should I choose the wrong bible verse to post or the wrong name to hashtag, I come to the conclusion that I don't always wish to add another voice to the horde. So I scroll, and I read the hundreds of soapbox speeches scrawled via QWERTY keyboards across 6 separate social media platforms, and I pray that an all-knowing, all-loving God will burden my heart to act and respond in the ways He is calling me to. For I know my God is a God of justice and loyalty and unflinching, irrevocable, unconditional LOVE for His people, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, sinful pasts, or human misunderstandings.

And honestly, I look forward to another week where I have an excuse to leave social media behind and sew into the lives of young artists and, hopefully, reiterate to this upcoming generation that ART mixed with FAITH has the capacity to heal and bless a broken world, even if we don't fully understand it yet.

Contagion, Collaboration, and Compromise

I gave up trying to achieve the vision in my head a long time ago. One of the first pieces of advice I give to directors younger than me (which, I'll admit aren't at a premium... but I do get asked from time to time...) is to stop trying to build the show they see in their head. It just won't happen. It won't look like that. Sure, aspects might feel "right" or you might have a specific image you want to tie into a singular moment but trying to build a physical version of the picture you have in your head isn't going to lead to success. It's going to lead to frustration. Cast a vision, make it contagious and build with people you trust. You probably won't be disappointed and the outcome might just be better than what you have concocted in the unrealistic depths of your own genius.

I stand by these words. I believe compromise is an important part of collaboration. I come into a show process with a million and one ideas and I ask for a LOT from my producer. I pull anything and everything I can find to better my team (meaning myself, my directing team, our cast members, and the plethora of volunteers) and their show. But, as is also the case with the professional world, a show has to open. I've cut costumes and set pieces in tech. I've changed keys of songs and I've added my fair share of scene shifts to an actor's plate with little-to-no notice. I expect it now. I understand it's part of the process and my goal has always been and will continue to be to build the best show I can for these kids, their parents and the audience coming to enjoy their work.

But here comes my confession: I get tired, emotionally and literally. I get sleepy and I get teary and I get frustrated and sometimes, I don't fight battles because of these things. Every once in a while, I use my willingness to compromise as a crutch. Please, someone say "amen" in your head right now...

     Zoom in on my most recent tech. Per usual, there was one million things to accomplish before opening night. Here we were a day before opening and one of my teens was clearly distraught following a run through. This particular person has a pretty contagious spirit and a mellow discontent was clearly out of their ordinary. So naturally, I inquired about this lack of euphoria following a solid run-through.
[I should mention-- this kid is an artist through and through. They're passionate and enthusiastic and because of this, I allowed them to have a little more input than I usually extend to some of my students/teammates. They had a small hand in some of the design work for the production and threw out a handful of their own ideas in the staging process. It was collaborative, unique, and awesome!]
     This kid was honest right off the bat. They were confused on why I had made a choice (or really, didn't make a choice) about a certain design element that DIRECTLY effected them. (It wasn't like they just didn't like some scene I blocked.) When they asked why we settled where we did on this element, I hastily gave a cliche answer. I ensured them they looked and sounded great and where we had landed, while not my ideal final product, wasn't hurting the production. I honestly just didn't take the time to make the adjustment. But, they had. This kid had a solution, a solution they were proud of and they had spent time and energy on. This was art to them and while they were sharing it with me, I was being careless with that honor. "I know it doesn't really matter," they said "but I worked hard on it and it matters to me." Frick. Wow. There I was building this story with this ARTIST as well as 70 other young artists and I was ready to toss this detail aside, something completely realistic and within my realm of power. Why? Because it had been a long week? This art mattered. It mattered to them. It mattered to me.

We parted on fine terms. I went home and thought about it. I came up with a game plan. We made the change. Nobody panicked. Nobody died. Nobody was livid with me for my ridiculous request. The show was better because of it. Because, one of our team members had the courage to tell their leader that OUR work mattered to them and it could be better. (Getting to tell them we were making the change was pretty fun too...) It woke me up a little. I'm starting some ew projects with the same open mind I preach to those younger than me, but my drive for excellence had a nice like recharge. I'm excited about the stories to come and the things I get to build next, especially with the kids and teens I get to build them with because they make it better, because it matters to them.

Mary Poppins Director's Note

       "Winds in the East, mist comin' in..." What memory just came to mind? How about "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!" OR "Let's go fly a kite and send it soaring!" 

Both my mom and step-mom spent a majority of my childhood reminding me that Mary Poppins was their favorite movie, humming and singing the songs every time the famed nanny's name was uttered. I was basically raised on Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I have a generous portion of the Sherman Brothers canon forever engrained in my memory; you likely do as well. 

Still, as one of Spotlight's youngest directors, I feel I may be unqualified to be reinterpreting a classic story such as Mary Poppins. I never saw Mary Poppins on the big screen or eagerly awaited a yearly television broadcast. Who am I to make Mary's magic real? But, feeling unqualified doesn't do the artist much good, so instead, I've tried to regard the opportunity with respect and gratitude. And in the process, I have learned Mary herself, her magic and the story P.L. Travers so beautifully crafted transcends generations, regardless of age.

As a team (of nearly 200 students, directors, parents and volunteers) we have focused our hearts on Matthew 11:25 while stepping [in time] through this process. Just as Mary's work can only be done in the hearts of children, our heavenly father's work is revealed to the childlike. What better place to return to a place of childlike faith, wonderment, and expectation than the theatre? 

Watching these kids rediscover these songs and characters makes Mary's magic real for me. Building this show with a directing team who not only sees my vision but empowers and betters it with their own talents makes Mary's magic real for me. Working with parents who remember the movie fondly, yet still work to create new elements for a familiar story makes Mary's magic real for me. Having you in our audience tonight makes Mary's magic real for me. Regardless of what comes to mind when you hear these songs, it is my prayer your evening at the theatre reminds you this...a spoonful of sugar DOES help the medicine go down, it IS a Jolly Holiday with Mary, HE reveals his truth to the childlike, and ANYTHING can happen if you let it.

With a grateful heart, 

Matthew Silar

Director

A glimpse into stage managing / calling a show...

     I thought it would be cool to throw together this little video of me calling a show my students recently put on. When you're working with students and parent volunteers, you have to accommodate for changes, obviously. Also, I had pretty much the same crew every time so I tried to hone in on what would work for them and the terms they were used to. In the end, we came to a solid system that made a complicated moment rather streamlined.

     Every gun shot and light cue was a separate cue and every light cue had an invisible auto-follow so the mover could get in place. The barricade shifts were done by hand, not by a track or mechanics. Also, kids are kids and things change from day to day. Marks are missed and lines are dropped, so this allowed for on the spot changes if the need arose. (Which, thankfully, it didn't... because my students are rockstars.)

ENJOY! 

A little reminder that this art thing still works...

I recently attended an amateur theatrical production with my mother and several of her friends. My mom likes to keep a tight schedule so her evenings are rarely open for heading to the theatre with me, or anyone else for that matter, so I try and make it a point to catch shows with her when she shows a specific interest in them. To be honest, she's still kind of learning theatre etiquette despite my fifteen years of doing this art thing.

Anyway, this one didn't exactly stand out to me more than most community/educational productions I attend. To be honest, several parts of the show were a little weak and while we were able to enjoy ourselves, both myself and my mother maintained a sort of "It was cute" mentality. (We've all been in those shows, myself included. Heck, I've DIRECTED those shows.)

Anyway, on the way out, as my mom and I kept most of our criticisms to ourselves, one of her friends couldn't stop talking about how much she loved it. Her monologue went something like this...
"That went by so quickly. It took me away for two hours! It's like nothing else was happening for a while."

Mother was rather quick on the response with,
"Well, that's the point."

And I was once again reminded that this silly art/thing still works. No matter how big or small the budget, strong or weak the talent... this theatre thing works. My entire perspective of the performance shifted a little when I got to see the GIFT this woman had just received by sitting in that audience. A little bit of magic...

A frequent visitor to my Starbucks, an older gentleman, is going through chemotherapy and as a certain silly shift walked by singing
"Everything is awesome."

He quickly interjected with
"I just watched The Lego Movie this weekend! I just love that movie. Makes me forget for a little bit."

What a gift. What a little, precious glimpse of magic.

I'm all about a pursuit of excellence, but its nice to be reminded that this art thing, this God breathed desire to create, is bigger than us. And, it works.

"It's supposed to be fun. That's why it's called a 'PLAY'."

     "It's supposed to be fun. That's why it's called a 'PLAY'." These wise words were spoken to me several times over the summer of 2014 while working on the Regional Premiere of Pasek and Paul's DOGFIGHT. The incredible Terry Martin practically made it his mantra as he would wrap up notes for the day. I've tried to take these words to heart as I've worked on other theatrical endeavors since that [freakin' amazing] summer. This weekend, especially, I was reminded what a useful tool we have in "play".
     I've worked on Les Mis plenty of times in my life. I've been in the show three times and this current escapade at the barricade finally has me wearing a new hat as I get to be one of the creative minds shaping the show rather than one of the tenors singing a partially monotone harmony in Red and Black. (#blessed) In order to shape the dynamic of our barricade boys, we invited them to stay late this past Friday for some character development. (Bro time.) We took an oath to not share what transpired that evening (Unless you're one of their parents. In which case, I'll give you a play by play of the entire evening. And pictures to prove it. Cuz I'd like to keep this job. :D) but it was competitive, messy, and awesome. The following day, it showed in their run-through. There was more camaraderie among the guys. They were more unified and their cause was clearer.
     It felt a little weird integrating such goofiness into one of the world's most cherished dramatic musicals. But, it was fun and it seemed to work so I didn't think much about it. The following evening I saw a production of Dogfight, the first one since I had worked on the show a year and a half earlier. Maybe I'm obtuse, but I never really put the jar-head-marines in Dogfight on the same level as the rebel students of Les Mis. But, I was reminded, watching six guys own those songs, and saddened because I freakin' miss the guys I got to share that story with. Because, we were brothers for those 8 weeks. And amidst the tense circumstances of that story, that show came with an overwhelming amount of play. From karaoke bars to steak-n-shake runs to GameCube in the green room; we played together on and off stage, in and out of the rehearsal room. It made cool things happen for us.
     Educational theatre doesn't always come with that time. An unruly deadline is met with the overprotective, though not altogether unreasonable, hand of leadership that keeps directors [teachers] and actors [students] a safe arm's length apart. I'll certainly be keeping my eyes open for more opportunities to maintain a sense of play in my rehearsal processes, be it with adults, teens, or kids.

NOTE: I'm frustrated I didn't even touch on play within a rehearsal room. Some of the best laughs come from working dramatic pieces. A good cry can be as healing and playful as a hearty laugh. Maybe I'll write a part 2. Or maybe I'll rehearse every play from here on out in a series of extended recesses. [Like, literal recesses. Like swings and monkey bars. Not that kids can have those anymore either. They might fall and have an authentic human experience.]