Alex Newell & Hailey Kilgore in Once on this Island (Photo: Joan Marcus)
The recent news of the January 6th twin closing notices of audience darlings Head Over Heels and Once on this Island has left fans of those shows reeling. It is a disheartening feeling to learn that a show that has made you feel seen, elevated your joy, celebrated life, or taught you about yourself will so no longer exist. Unlike other performing arts mediums, such as television or film, there are no reruns or (usually) dvd’s for rewatching at home. Once the show is gone, it’s gone.
How do we deal with this finality? As humans, when we are faced with an ending, it is tempting to minimize the pain by effectively denying ourselves the finality of the goodbye with platitudes such as, “See you later”. But when we avoid facing the fullness of an ending, we avoid celebrating the fullness of our experiences.
Theater, like life, is special precisely because it is ephemeral. That electric moment you experienced when the music swelled and that note was hit, it will never be exactly like that again. It was a moment in time, gone into the ether as quickly as it appeared.
I wish a show like Once on this Island could run indefinitely. It is everything that live theater can be: Vital, visceral, life-affirming. But it must close. And when it does close, it’s impact will not end. Like Ti Moune, even in death, “You will always be a part of us”. The life of a show does not end when the final curtain comes down, it persists in all of the people who have been moved by it. In saying goodbye, we acknowledge that nothing lasts forever, which is exactly what makes it important.
Best,
Dr. Drama