Student Blog: Post-COVID Crossroads

Over a year after the COVID-19 pandemic first raged through the United States and forced theatres to close for the foreseeable future, we're finally seeing a light at the end of a dark, dark tunnel. As we're ahead of schedule in getting people vaccinated, Mayor Bill DeBlasio is enthusiastic that Broadway theatre will return by Fall 2021. Pop-up and temporary productions have already taken NYC by storm (well, safely, of course), like this Nathan Lane and Savion Glover performance in the St. James Theatre as a thank-you to frontline workers. Shakespeare in the Park is returning this summer with social distancing measures in place. And shows that were planning to open on The Great White Way, such as Company and Diana, will open their doors when it is deemed safe.

As I got my first dose of the COVID vaccine yesterday, I write this with a mix of (literal) feverish excitement and a heightened fear of the unknown. These past 13 months have changed the entertainment industry, and patrons and practitioners of the arts, in unfathomable ways: both good and bad. Perhaps pre-recorded, self-tape auditions, individual Zoom rehearsals, and virtual masterclasses for those outside of typical theatrical havens will become an integral part of our future. They are convenient, after all. Plus, we become so much more creative when limits are placed upon us. I mean, have you seen some of the amazing virtual shows that professionals and amateurs alike have put out into the universe? If not, go check them out, you won't be disappointed. I yearn for the day where I experience an audience's live response again, whether I'm sitting in the house or waiting in the wings backstage. It's something I miss more and more, especially as I film for virtual performances and re-learn everything I knew about performance, all without the same energy I realize I fed off of during live theatre.

This time period has forced so many people (myself included) to pivot. Smaller theatres and studios have closed, shows have announced shutdowns, and people in the arts have had to rethink their entire careers and shift them based on our existing reality (and a future that is nowhere near set in stone). I know I'm grieving what could have been. I unfortunately had some rough timing as a college student during the pandemic. Little did I know that in November 2019, I'd be performing on campus for the last time as a junior: three semesters earlier than my expected goodbye to stages I've learned, cried, grown, and truly lived on. I don't know when or if I'll be back on stage, to be honest, as I have to job hunt (feel free to connect with me on LinkedIn, by the way), evaluate my own career path given these circumstances, and pivot once more as I graduate from college and move back home for the time being. I cannot begin to fathom how people who do this for a living feel.

On a greater scale, I know that the return to live, in-person theatre after all this time is bound to be magical. I already know tears will stream down my face as soon as the house lights dim. But I hope I am not alone in my distant fears of being a rusty performer, or that it just won't feel the same to be in the theatre as it was "before." I understand my own hesitancy, because theatre is all-encapsulating. We often become synonymous and intertwined with our passions, and theatre is the quintessential example of this. But we've been away from it all for so long and we've forged on regardless. The intermission we've collectively waited through with baited breath is coming to a stop soon, and I know that Act 2 always has much more in store than we think. And it is possible to feel it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly, while still having hope for the (near) future.