CMU School of Drama


Wednesday, January 18, 2023

So You've Been Told Your Show Is Closing

Playbill: It’s January. The most dreaded month of the Broadway year. Sales drop precipitously from the holidays, and many shows aren’t able to survive until spring. They close, and other shows take their places. The circle of Broadway life.

8 comments:

Jordan Pincus said...

This was a very beautiful and heartbreaking letter. I understand the heartbreak of a wonderful show closing, but not quite like this grief after development just yet. I think Anika’s use of the word “darers” is very fitting. It takes guts to try and do something new, especially something that requires so much time, money and manpower to get off the ground. That’s a thing that I think everyone in the theatre community struggles with - empathy when shows close. Anika admits – and I admit too – that there have been times where I see the headline and shrug. Because the industry is so naturally rolling and changing, we’re used to the cycling of theaters and productions. So when something like Phantom announces it’s closing, it gathers attention and grief, because people weren’t used to change there. Then there’s the example of Beetlejuice being kicked out of the Winter Garden - it was an extraneous circumstance, plus the show had a cult following, so it makes sense that there was more attention on it.

Abby Brunner said...

This article gave me chills. After COVID, everything seems a lot more temporary, and I have begun to appreciate every little thing I am able to accomplish. We, as a society, take so many things for granted, especially within the theatre community. This letter written by Anika Larson, is something many theatre artists experience but never really talk about. I remember the grief I felt when my sophomore year show was canceled due to covid. We had already been building and in rehearsal for months, we were at the point where things were starting to come together. And then for all of it to be canceled in the blink of an eye was heartbreaking. The harsh reality of how fragile our profession is, has been illuminated through COVID. Non theatre goers often take for granted the beauty that they see on stage, and not until it closes do they question the amount of work. Theatre artists experience grief on a daily basis, but they also experience the exhilarating happiness, thrills and joy of creating something that makes people laugh, cry, and feel emotions that only theatre can create. In my opinion, the grief that comes after a show you have put your heart and soul into is worth it for all of the magic, connections and reactions you get from your audience members. Theatre artists continue to tell stories about everything, and that is the greatest gift any of us could give to each other.

Ava Notarangelo said...

Covid hitting has definitely helped me cope with the fact that nothing is permanent. Especially in the performance industry, which relies on so many different people to do so many different things, anything can happen, and nothing should be entirely depended on. After covid hit my sophomore year, I started to be okay with things being temporary. not just in the theater industry but also in my personal life as well. I became a much more understanding person, And I've gotten a lot better at both understanding that things happen to people that cannot necessarily be controlled, and also that not everything will go perfectly no matter how much you want it to. things like friends getting sick and being unable to come to different things as well as things coming the way of people has made me a much more patient and understanding person. Although I didn't exactly wish that I had to learn this lesson, I'm glad that it was able to help me grow as a human being.

Sukie Wang said...

This letter is so impactful and powerful. In this letter, it talks and relates audiences to things that would happen in people’s daily life where its readers can easily relate to. In addition, the mention of family members and the impact on them also enforces the feeling of sadness and lost. The part impacted me the most is the live from friends and family supporting artists through different journeys in their lives and helping them in discovering new things. One of my favorite shows, Beetlejuice had their last show on broadway recently. When I was there and watching it, except for the tears and cries that I had, I also felt the magic of theatrical arts and the proudness that everyone had in their work and in what they have done. This article reminded me of that magical experience where people truly love what they are working on and are proud of it.

Kendall Swartz said...

I really like this article because it really did show how hard it is to close a show. I feel like there were multiple shows that close this season and I realize that it is the time that shows usually close. But it just seemed like more than normal this January. I know this article really explained how it feels to close the show and the overall dread there is to it. Whenever a show or project closes it messes with you, and it puts people out of a job. Almost famous with a show that I know I was surprised to see close, and like any other show a lot of people are working on it. I know it’s struggled at the box office, especially after Covid. I feel like after Covid A lot of shows are struggling to get up, especially ones that started their production before Covid.

Selina Wang said...

Anika’s letter is absolutely beautiful. I’ve always hated the feeling of emptiness that hits right after show closings, and I can say that many others share the same feeling. If this emptiness is hard for someone like me, who wasn’t even in the productions for that long, then I can’t imagine what it must be like for those who have been there since the beginning, in a process that could be years. I used to tell myself perhaps it’s better to not pour my heart and soul into a show so that saying goodbye would be easier. But now I’ve realised that I would rather fully commit to a show and enjoy the process than look back and regret it. Unfortunately, we have to learn how to deal with saying goodbyes a lot in this industry. With the pandemic, most people have left the industry completely, and seeing so many shows close is definitely heart-breaking. We don’t know whether this will eventually get back to what it was pre-pandemic, but either way, we can still enjoy the present.

Emily Carleton said...

I enjoyed reading this article which acknowledged the range of emotions that come with a beloved show closing. In high school, we would feel the relief of having our time back, but then be hit with the post-show blues and reminiscing on the good ole days. Anika Larson does a great job making theatre creators feel seen and the complexity one feels when being told their show is closing. I remember talking about the difficulty of timing when telling a production it is coming to a close. Miso told us about her experience of wanting to give people the time they needed to find a new job but then dealing with people no longer performing at their best since they no longer have their heart in the work. I feel for both arguments: it’s hard getting people motivated when they are already thinking about their next job, but it also feels cruel not giving them a heads up. (158)

Sawyer Anderson said...

Although I am not an actor, and it seems like it was aimed at actors, this can be applied to all theater makers. I do not know about others but I think some part of me definitely lives in fear that I will not have a “next” show. The author of this letter mentioned how the house staff knew the next show, and the run crew had their next gig, but the idea of your show, or your shop, or any theatrical business you work for closing is a fear. Theater is notorious for being unstable and I think everyone, or at least speaking for myself, wants job security. I can see how working for the Lion King for 30 years would get tiring but in that situation you have the option to leave, you are not being forced to leave. You can interview or audition, and have the time to make that choice, rather than have the fear of what will happen next.