I was introduced to theater in middle school, but it was more an after-school activity to kill time while waiting for my mom to pick me up. But, I enjoyed it enough that I continued doing it into high school, and cue defining moment #1. During my junior year, I was involved in “Trojan Women” as a chorus member and I probably hated about 95% of my time spent doing it. Favoritism from the director and choreographer killed what little passion myself and others had, and other classmates weren’t much better. I didn’t really love what I was doing until I had a dream that was the crisis my character went through happening to me, and I felt something towards a role that I’d never felt before. Not only did I start performing because I felt akin to that woman, but I stopped performing for the approval of others instead of myself (and ironically, that same director gave me a lot of praise after that). After that, I was pretty much high on theater from then on and I practically begged for opportunities at every corner, and I gave up a lot more opportunities in other places. 

I started to become more invested in performance as an art when I entered college. Whereas throughout my life I never really understood why a movie I thought was God’s gift to the Earth was called “bad” by critics, I was exposed to the world of writing. Fun fact: despite my emphasis being partially in playwriting, I’d never (and still haven’t) written a play. I have no experience in creating a world, characters, and a story. But after watching a TV show that I didn’t understand at first and considered “bad”, but read reviews that claimed it was that God’s gift, I did some reading and began actually analytically watching it instead of for pure entertainment value. As an artist, this connected that “no sports no arts” analytical side of my brain with my emotional connection to art, and it was like a latch unlocked an entire new portion of my brain. When I read or watch things now, I analyze (which I am realizing is a blessing and a curse now) and look deeper, and the things I understand on such a deeper level make my entertainment experience richer. And, I want to create that experience for others.

Needless to say my thoughts have changed, and I believe it was because I secretly hoped to be a part of these collaborative moments I admired but just didn’t know it. Statements about being a sole collaborator have an entirely different meaning in that instead of keeping my ideas bottled up; it now feels like an encouragement to start bringing more of my ideas and thoughts to the collaborators’ table and keep presenting ideas I like to other people to see how it develops with new insight and perspectives of those I’m working with so that it can blossom in an entirely new way. I’ve learned people (including myself) come up with some really innovative ideas that have you asking yourself, “how did I -- or they -- come up with this?” But we love it and expand upon it regardless! I’ve developed such an admiration for the unpredictability and creativity that others bring to the table that I really can’t imagine doing many other works without at least one person helping me or us bouncing ideas off of each other. 

However, I don’t know if anything ever made me feel like one part of a wonderfully theatrical whole than silently collaborating through movement with my entire cohort. I even said in my first padlet that I wanted to achieve something similar to actors being, “so comfortable in a collaborative space that they barely even need words to communicate with one another”. We did just that. I didn’t have to add personal stressors of whether or not I was being controlling or talking too much because it didn’t require speech. I was allowed to do my own thing while being conscious of the group and when to pause or unpause. I think it was that sense of independence that I expressed at the beginning of the class I wanted that I believe I actually sought in the realm of a collaboration rather than a fully independent project. It brought a sense of relief and really made me appreciate being a part of something so trusting and collaborative rather than admiring it from a distance. 

When trying to create works based on my inspirations in class, I felt myself always repeating one word over and over in my head: memorable. Essentially, I wanted my classmates to like and remember what my group made! In a way, my inspirations about audience engagement pushed me to keep going and make something, but my inhibitions about whether it would be memorable found myself stuck with no ideas or motivation sometimes. I still find myself thinking and doing this even now, and I think it's because I like to please people and be a part of something that pleases people. My philosophy with theatre has always been that if I don't get something from it or the people watching it don't get something from the work I show, then what's the point in doing it? I love when the art I create serves people in some way, no matter how miniscule. But I think from seeing my classmates’ work and attempting to create it instead of just admiring it and other works from afar (in a sense, collaborating in two different ways), I found the ways to create something that maybe just inspires me. Maybe only I got something from my work, but it was memorable to me. I see it in their work too, as maybe I don’t get the same thing from a work as the creators because the premise isn’t told directly to the audience. And I think I like that too, which is why I started to embrace it especially for the FOPP project. I let my character have depth and let her be meaningful to me, and that inspired me too!

When I’m put into a group and given 15 minutes to devise a piece with some guidelines, my heart rate skyrockets just a little bit. I’ve never been one to tell others what to do in a collaborative space or even just in school projects, because I’ve always thought if we’re going to work on something together we all need to think about what it is we’re doing and express our individuality in how we reach a conclusion. But if I said that there weren’t times where I just wanted to take control of something because I didn’t feel like we were going to get it done within the time limit, I would be lying. However, I think the word “control” has dissipated each consecutive time I worked with a group this semester. Though I’ve had some trouble sometimes in groups voicing my ideas or opinions, I’ve still always been one to never strictly tell someone what to do. It’s so much easier and more fun to just share ideas and reach a natural, collaborative agreement in a more equal relationship, and it makes ideas form more naturally and opens up the conversation for improvements and modifications that might not come through in a closed conversation. 

Though 15 minutes wouldn’t meet my original definition of “marinating”, I think I’ve both intensified and strayed from sticking to this practice over the semester. I still engage in letting ideas sit in my head after learning new techniques and seeing different styles of performance in class, but I also have learned to just kind of go with the flow and trust that not everything has to be thoroughly thought through for years for it to be something good to perform. Obviously I still don't want to put something half-baked on stage, but I've also learned to just perform something in a short amount of time with a group of people without having to worry about whether it's "artistic" enough.