I had an experience over Thanksgiving weekend that I’ve never had before. I had an opportunity to see a Broadway show before its official opening at the Belasco Theater in Manhattan.
The show was How To Dance In Ohio, a musical based on the Peabody Award-winning documentary of the same name that can, at present, be viewed on Netflix. Both the musical and the documentary explore common themes of belonging, courage to put yourself out in the world and the universal need we all have for connection and engagement. The setting is a counseling center in Columbus where seven autistic young adults are preparing for their first ever formal dance – a coming of age experience that forces them once again to grapple with finding their way in an often bewildering world.
How To Dance In Ohio would have its official opening a few weeks later, on December tenth. This would be the day the critics let loose with their personal views of the play – ripping it to shreds, praising it highly or a little bit of both.
Like everything in life, there are so many ways to slice a cake.
Theatre-goers described How To Dance In Ohio as “delightful, entertaining, absorbing, relevant and enchanting.”
Here’s what some of the critics wrote about How To Dance In Ohio after its official opening performance:
New York Times: musical breaks new ground on Broadway
Variety: big hearted, earnest…too much telling and not enough showing…
Entertainment Weekly: the music is only okay…but the moments that do hit…hit hard…just ask the folks in my row reaching for tissues
Deadline: the show is destined to live in the inescapable shadow of Kimberly Akimbo, that perfect show just a block away
The Daily Beast: a funny, joyful and cheering assertion of both diversity and self-determination
That afternoon I sat in the dark with strangers – in a filled to capacity theatre. I listened to stories that illuminate a shade of humanity I had not experienced. It was a different kind of community – a temporary community – that felt safe and in sync and yet the possibility was ever present of something going wrong on stage that kept us all awake, aware and fully present.
And that’s the beauty of live performances. They are immediate. They are evolving. And each performance is slightly different. Live theatre encourages discourse and dialogue, especially important when viewed against the backdrop of our current world – a world filled to the brim with social media, digital technology and virtual experiences – all delivered through our oversized screens gracing our homes.
Actress Janelle Snow‘s take on the magic of live theater expresses my feelings so well: “It’s like a sporting event of the heart – where you’re gathered in a space, often shoulder to shoulder, breathing the same air, experiencing the same sensory input and letting your thoughts and emotions go on an unpredictable ride together.”
The applause that afternoon was at times deafening. The standing ovation at the end for the entire cast was particularly poignant given the fact that the seven cast members playing autistic young adults were autistic themselves and making their debut on Broadway.
Me? I loved it.
I left the theater on that dismal, rainy afternoon with a buoyant heart and a hopeful spirit. If these seven autistic actors and the autistic young adults they portrayed could face life with humor, courage and determination, so could I.
I walked out with renewed resolve to power forward with personal goals which up to this point had been shrouded in fear and anxiety.
In closing, click on this link to experience a little taste of the magic of How To Dance In Ohio:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sx3sRu_2TBQ
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
