Louder than…

Well, hello there. Good to meetcha. I’m Amber. Your outgoing, happy, (a little loud? …really?) theatrical friend. I like reading and good T.V. and science and sandwiches. And sunglasses. I may have a serious problem with sunglasses.

I also like plays. Actually, I love plays. I love everything that they are.

I love the electricity in a room when a group of people come together all at once to witness other people, actual people (in person!), perform. I love the thrill of a night that never happens in exactly the same way again. I love playwrights that weave incredible stories into action, rather than just telling them. I believe in the poetry of language and the idea that words are the most powerful weapons we have. I believe these words and stories have the power to change perspectives and lives. And this is why I read, attend, and champion plays.

I think you are awesome, funny, and smart as hell. And I want you to like plays too.

A few years ago, I went to see a staged reading of Johnathan Larson’s musical tick, tick…BOOM! over at City Center in NYC. The reading was only happening for a few nights, and my friend just happened to get tickets. We were so far up in the balcony we could barely see the edge of the stage, but the electricity in the room was palpable. The house was humming with anticipation and joy.

I fell in love that night again.

After the final song, Louder than Words, the audience leapt to its feet in wild, unbridled applause. The happiness in the room that night was overwhelming. I began to cry. If there would have been enough room to jump up and down, I would have. It was like a wave of euphoria had come crashing into the theatre.

I had never seen this show before in my life, but it made me realize more than ever that in a world of analysts, auditors, and account managers, we need artists as well. We need passionate, new artists, new writers, and new performers. People with voices that ache to be heard. People eager to change perspective. Dreamers. Boundary breakers. Dramatists.

When I can’t be in the theatre watching a performance, I read. Perhaps with a sandwich by my side, sporting a pair of shades. I hope you’ll dare to join me and, even perhaps, create your own electricity.