This No Proscenium article was originally published on December 16th, 2020.  Appearance here has been shortened to focus on The Warehouse Theatre-related portion, but the full-length article can be found at No Proscenium’s website.

 

2020 is a hard year to love, so we won’t try.

That doesn’t mean there weren’t moments that made it, well, survivable. Glimmers of hope and humanity that reminded us why we do what we do every day. Which gave us the strength to keep going on.

This is the first in a series of posts that will look back on the year that was, and to be honest: this is my favorite. Because at its heart, the immersive and experiential arts are the art of the moment. When things are done well, indelible memories are formed, pathways are reveled, destinies set in motion. Sometimes in the spirit of play, sometimes very much in the quotidian world.

Long after the accolades are forgotten, these moments will remain with us.

— Noah Nelson, Founder & Publisher, No Proscenium

I’m starting to drift a little during the decluttering seminar. We’re all in our little Zoom squares, holding up the things we want to get rid of: old film screeners, floppy disks, unused picture frames, and other knick knacks. But my attention snaps back as soon as one of the participants in this getting-rid-of-stuff seminar begins pushing back on the fictional expert who is hosting the self-help session. Why? He wants to know. Why is it so bad to hold onto our stuff? Then the show takes a hard right, and this so-called participant transitions from ranting at our guest to singing a song about not getting rid of his ex’s mug. “If it has something to say, why can’t it stay?” he croons.

Shit, I think. He’s a plant. And. This show is a musical. I can’t help but start laughing, especially as I see the faces of the other attendees light up during this moment of unexpected whimsy.