Together, We Can Do Anything

If I had to venture a guess, I would say it took close to one hundred people to put on this production of Fiddler on the Roof. Cast and crew, sound and lights, costumes and props, builders and strikers. The folks who taped paper over all the windows. The ushers. The parents that drove their kids to countless rehearsals. And of course our choreographer, orchestra, musical directors and director of the show.

Close to one hundred, I'm almost sure of it.

         I, for one, had a team of 13 for a 7-minute scene. 

It took two seamstresses, a mic assistant, make-up artist, wig & glove provider, pearl necklace creator, a stilt coach, a spotter and a vocal coach to get me ready to perform. Not to mention the countless notes I got from Chip and Teresa regarding the acting/dancing/walking. And any given night it took two strong men to strap me into my stilts. You heard right: I walked on 20" drywall stilts, making this Fruma-Sarah over 7' tall.

(Let me digress and remind everyone that heights are not my favorite thing in the world. But in the spirit of trying everything once (and hopefully living to tell about it), I decided to give those stilts a go. I was going to work with them for a few weeks, and then let the director know that it was just not going to work and ask if we could do it without them. The blocking wasn't terribly difficult, but let's get real: every site I googled to learn how best to walk in them advised to fall to your knees so you wouldn't break your arm when you went down. Nevermind the shattered knee caps.)

I was terrified. 'This can't be insurmountable,' I kept thinking. And I don't know why, but finally it got easier. Maybe because the whole cast was so supportive, or maybe because Chip set little goals for me, like looking up. One night, he encouraged me just to let go (of my spotter's hand) and it worked. I walked into the nothing of center stage and did not fall. And then turned around and walked back. I'll admit, during the last performance, I even enjoyed it a little bit. I was sad to take off my stilts for the last time, change costumes, wipe off the make-up and be Heidi again.

Lesson learned. If you can let go of your insecurities, and just roll with it, you'll learn how to walk. And together with my coaches and spotters I did. Many, many thanks!

         And then the church lost power for 3 days.

What might have been a disappointment turned into an adventure. Friday night's performance was cancelled, so we added a matinee on Sunday. And with generator'ed work-lights to light up the stage (no mics, no fancy lights, no blackouts during scene changes) we performed three amazing shows to packed houses. Old school. And it brought our little family even closer together. Candles and camping lanterns in the Green Room. Beautiful Christmas lights strung backstage running off portable somethings. Hushed voices chatting over the low, rumbling hum of the generator.

We all came together to overcome this adverse situation. We were kind and supportive to each other, all members of our Anatevkan family. We could have been upset or grumpy. We could have had cast members stay home (after all, many of them had no power either). But together, we just gave it all to God and went on with the show.

It was not how we had set out to do it. It took months of planning, hours of set-up and a large sum of money to perfect the mics and lights for this production. In the end, we only got to use them for the dress rehearsal and opening night. It may sound disheartening, but thankfully "Fiddler-unplugged," as we came to call it, still told the story of love, humor, persecution, family, community, faith, hopes and dreams.

And if we can come together, and let go of the need to be perfect, we'll have so much fun telling the story. And we did.

         Saying goodbye is impossibly hard.

I didn't think it would be all that hard to leave this show. After all, I would see several of these people twice a week in chancel choir. But during the last performance of the last song, this line struck a tearful chord:

"Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place.
Searching for an old familiar face from Anatevka."

In a church with thousands of members, it is easy to feel like a stranger in a new place at times, looking for that familiar face from Fiddler on the Roof. I hope I will connect with many of them again, in different ways. In our little Christian community.

So maybe today's lesson is to let go, roll with it and have fun living the story. It may not be the production you set out to have, but it will be an adventure all the same.

And then remember. Together, we can do anything!

Much love,

Heidi