Why my next play had to be a solo show performed on Zoom.

In March of 2020 mankind was thrust into a new paradigm. With virtually every aspect of life squeezed, stretched and stuffed into shapes that many found virtually unrecognizable, the essence of what it means to be human was called into question. And change was all but inevitable.

Change can be painful, frightening, frustrating and uncomfortable. And so for the better part of two years everyone has to some degree found him or herself wrestling with uncertainty and a gnawing question regarding all our life choices pre-CoVid_19.

I feel that my exploration of this challenging and dangerous moment in human history absolutely calls out for a presentation within the confines of the Zoom black box theatre.

Opening 2 min. of the February 7th reading to an invited audience.

This has left us at once hungry for human connection (as the oxygen of life) and wary of it. We have found ourselves surprised by our own behavior. How many friends have expressed the same confusion regarding an acute loneliness and yearning for human connection coupled with an inexplicable paralysis when it comes to returning phone calls, emails and text messages. How odd it has been to observe oneself letting 2, 3, or more days sail by while phone messages or emails went unreturned even as we wished for nothing more than the back and forth of a chat with a friend. 

Zoom is the perfect architecture for this moment.

It provides groups of individuals a suggestion of interaction but does so in a rather controlled way which demands of us a one-person-at-a-time approach to conversation. And, as I have pointed out before on this blog, because actual eye contact is not possible, it allows the communication between two individuals to begin and exist on a limited plane but never quite fully connect. In the Zoom interaction between two or more people, there's always a sense that what has transpired has been limited, limiting and lacks the full blossom of actual connection. 

In this way Zoom has kept us frustrated, unfulfilled and more than a little aware of the unique value of two human beings sharing the same air space, making full eye contact, talking and listening and even occasionally touching. This is who we are. This is how we know we are human. And fortunately as of this writing as we approach the midpoint of year 3 of this pandemic, more of what fuels us appears to be just around the corner. 

And that is why I feel that my exploration of this challenging and dangerous moment in human history absolutely calls out for a presentation within the confines of the Zoom black box theatre.

A Nagging Feeling Best Not Ignored is my reaction to the unprecedented events of January 6, 2021 and the ways in which such a public betrayal of the national trust might point to deeper less immediately apparent cracks in our social fabric. We find ourselves groping in the dark for some assurance that our social and political structures and our very survival on the planet are not about to disappear forever. 

The character at the center of my 60-min. show is a slippery sort of guy. Many of the assertions he makes as he attempts to win us over are directly contradictory to one another. And still something in him propels him forward. He needs us (or desperately wants us) to tell him we understand and accept his choices and do not condemn him to a life in exile. But in a way, Benj's unwillingness to level with himself, to fully and unambiguously come clean may remind us at least a little bit of ourselves. 

And that's okay. As long as we promise to keep asking questions, keep trying harder to connect and never ever give up on ourselves and our hunger to live fully human lives. 

I hope you'll consider joining me for one of 4 performances I'll be giving in July. Wednesdays at 8PM. Visit my Eventbrite page for tickets.