We spent nearly every day with each other for three months straight.
It's said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think that's only true if you've actually grown to appreciate someone's presence first. And I think that's why this musical has become the most unique, incredible, miraculous production of which I've ever been a part. What we created with CATS will never be created again by anyone--EK theatre or otherwise. And the only reason we created what we did, in all its magic, is because we built one another up, we let one another into our lives.
When we decided CATS, I was dumbfounded. The adults sat in a circle and threw out ideas and talked hopes and dreams and all the sudden Mr. Mellema said, "What about CATS?" And we all scrunched up our faces and asked, "Really? Are you sure? Are you feeling ok?" But there was logic to it, and he argued it well, so we agreed, and as soon as we left the room, the enormity of our decision hit us.
"Ok, we're doing CATS... what did we just get ourselves into?"
I watched the show online. I'd never seen it before because Andrew Lloyd Webber's never really been my favorite, and my first exposure left me... confused. I wikipedia'd the show, hoping for a plot and finding none, digging through lyrics and vocal parts and character names (I think T.S. Eliot did a lot of drugs...), and I was prepared for callbacks because I knew these characters but I was unprepared for callbacks because it was the third longest running show on Broadway and it was about... cats.
I've been humming "Macavity the Mystery Cat" ever since.
The cast list sort of just fell into place. We commented how painless it was as we ate pizza and hummus and weird foreign pastries made by Mr. Hoeksema. And then the list went up and the show we had planned on being smaller than last year was sixty plus kids strong. But there was so much talent and heart and zeal at callbacks and auditions that it didn't make sense to trim the cast.
What worked with this show so phenomenally well was that it was an ensemble. Everyone was at rehearsal every day because everyone was on stage every minute (nearly). And that's rare for shows of sixty cast members to accomplish. We should be very proud of that. I lost count of how many people came up to me after the shows and gawked about not only the size of our cast, but the quality of their voices. Theatre veterans (friends from high school) and musical virgins (my father) were saying the same thing: how did you fit them all on stage? they all sounded fantastic. I can't believe these are high schoolers.
I hope you realize how special this show was. I hope you realize how impossible it will be to create anything that will ever compare to this. Sixty brilliant young people on stage for an hour and a half singing nonstop is the kind of goal high schools set for themselves as a far and distant achievement. We've already achieved it. Recognize that only happened, I firmly believe, because you grew comfortable with each other's presence.
Every day.
Every cast member.
The whole time.
Every day.
Every cast member.
The whole time.
Every day.
Every cast member.
The whole time.
It created a focused rhythm to the show. It helped you discover nuances to the music and choreography you might have otherwise missed. It kept you constantly practicing, rarely forgetting. It was a Fine Arts bootcamp, and you survived it with flying colors. And as icing on top of our cake, it created memories, it forged friendships, it diminished grade level lines and built up a cast loyalty. You all put in so much work that you were all invested in the outcome. I can say that with confidence, because I saw it.
In the orchestra room dance rehearsals, I saw it. Popping in to vocal rehearsals, I saw it. On stage for our two day sitzprobe, I saw it (even when you got antsy and chatty). Those long, exhausting night rehearsals, I saw it. When you showed up to optional Saturday makeup sessions or stayed after school to help put our set together, I saw it. When you tweeted day after day, put it in your bios, snap-chatted it (is that the correct verbage?), I saw it. When you wore those shirts once a week (or more) to advertise our show, I saw it. When you ran through the halls in full makeup with the goal of drawing attention to yourself, I saw it. When you practiced your songs and dances before the show (and if you're Emma, at intermission), I saw dedication and commitment and love for everything we had created.
No cast I've ever worked with has worked harder than this one. No cast I've ever worked with was so focused as this one. No cast I've ever worked with was as professional and as optimistic and as proud of their production as this one.
That's why you miss it now.
A plotless musical about cats... WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?
No musical I've ever been a part of (including all of mine in high school, including my LAST one in high school) was missed so much as this one seems to be. And I don't know if it's actually because we miss singing about Mistoffelees six thousand times, or if the naming of cats and those creepy head twitches making audience members shiver excited us, or if it was more about the people we've met and the memories we've made, but this show was a defining moment in our seniors' lives, and it very well could be the defining moment in a lot of underclassmen's careers as well. Why?
Because we grew so used to have each other around that we felt safe, and we felt wanted, and we felt valued. (And maybe because the music was so damn catchy. And maybe because the dancing was a blast. And maybe because the puns made available because we were doing a musical about Cats were abundant. But mostly because we are nostalgic, emotionally vulnerable, perfectly imperfect human beings who desire acceptance and inclusion and who found that acceptance and inclusion in other nostalgic, emotionally vulnerable, perfectly imperfect human beings.) We became a home away from home (did any of you have a real family dinner at all in March?), and home is the place you can always go back to, the place you can let down your guard and be a mess some days and still be loved.
I'm getting wordy and long-winded, so I'll wrap it up by saying this:
I have never met a cast so memorable and phenomenal as this one.
CATS will forever have an enormous and irreplaceable hold on my heart.
I will never not miss what we've created.
You are always welcome back.
But for now, it's up, up, up, to the heavyside layer. At least we've got the memories (I couldn't resist). I love you all, more than I think you will ever realize. I will brag about those five nights for the rest of my life. No one will ever understand the love you have for this show and this cast like this cast will, and when it comes to figuring out why we love this show so much, that's all the proof you really need.
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