BWW Blog: A Letter to My Arts Hero (Who Has Graced the Stage)

Sometimes the right words are hard to find. Especially when you're trying to express to someone how much they mean to you; harder still when you've never even met.

If you're reading this article, it means that you are one of these three people:

1. Someone who loves a Broadway Star (you're reading this on BroadwayWorld.com, so...)

2. Someone know loves and KNOWS a Broadway Star, or

3. Someone who loves, knows, and IS a Broadway Star.

No matter which you are, it's inevitable that you've had that moment when you just couldn't find the words you wanted to say.

The letter you're about to read is one that I've composed time and time again. Each time I finished it, the same thing was missing: I couldn't describe the feeling without running into a cliché, and the unavoidable scent of insincerity. With all this extra time at home, I think I've finally figured it out.

Broadway is struggling during this pandemic. These are dark times for so many arts workers. Send this letter to your arts hero...via Twitter, Instagram, or whatever. Go old school: print it out and snail mail it to their fan mail address if you want to! In times of struggle, kindness means so much more than you'll ever know.

To My Arts Hero:

What a wonderful thing it is to be inspired by someone without ever meeting. Art seems to be the only thing that connects us so deeply as humans. The messages are universal and transcendental.

Given that stories have existed since before cave wall paintings, it's only natural that messages that matter lose their patina through overuse and become dull "clichès".

In almost all other aspects of life, without art, it's hard not to run into clichés. But here's the thing - clichés are so overlooked because of their meaning. The messages they convey are universal truths so solid and unmoving that it becomes almost impossible to inspire.

Theatre and music reanimate these messages, restoring their original eloquent and meaning. The power these art forms possess to tacitly convey these messages is unique.

It's similar to the idea of human perseverance. Each generation faces similar challenges, time and time again. History repeats itself constantly. Tragedy is inevitable, and so is our ultimate demise. Even so, we face the same obstacle again and again with the same motivator, quite possibly the biggest cliche of all: hope.

What an intimidating word "hope" is. It's quite possibly the most general, and most intimidating cliché of all. Many people are afraid of it, or what it might entail. They see "hope" as an entity that is not to be unseen or unattainable; something bigger than ourselves. Here's the thing, though: that's incorrect.

What is "hope", really? What is it, if not what society has projected it as?

The answer is simple.

It's you.

Art gives us the strength not only to face our challenges again and again, but also, arguably more notably, restore hope. Stories remind us that we're all connected, whether we see each other every day or have never met. The work you do on and off the stage reminds us that hope always prevails.

In the midst of one of the biggest challenges we've ever had to face, be proud that you have given someone - whether it be 1 person or 1 million people - an amazing gift: the realization that eventually everything will be okay, and the inspiration to continue to have hope, despite the odds.

In the most clichèd way possible, I leave you with two parting words:

Thank you.