releasing the light within

Narnia

how many brush strokes does it take 

to make a painting that’s ready to be presented?

what does it take to see the potential whole

and how to use the strokes to get to it?

I watch an actor essay a gesture, a movement, a line,

an artist with brush or papier-mache build a prop,

a choreographer see what is, suggest what can be,

and help it come to be,

a singer find the note and the song

and how to release it on stage,

a stage manager manage the logistics 

and manage the actors to learn the lines 

so that it all gets done, 

the costumer who sees what can be done with material and vision,

and she does it, no matter the hours it all takes,

the make-up artists who accentuate features for the humans

and accentuate the fantastic for the creatures of Narnia,

a carpenter artist who hears what might be built

so that what’s on stage allows audience to believe,

or at least to suspend disbelief,

and he does it,

the musicians, who with vision, and piano, and belief,

enable song and accompaniment to be

so that music transcends and deepens story and performance,

and me? 

 I do whatever needs doing,

whatever that I can figure how to do,

sometimes I’m frame to hold against flying apart,

sometimes glue to hold the disparate into a whole,

I see what can be and I find who can make it so,

and I believe in them and that can help them believe in themselves,

and they make it so,

each brush stroke vital to the whole,

or maybe each are frames in a movie,

and, when the whole is animated,

each part is alive,

and the whole is alive,

what makes life is both the importance of each part

and the miracle of how much more the whole can be

than just the sum of the parts,

no matter how impressive each part is,

there’s an elemental beat that we call chance

and what life does is play a melody

above, around, and against that beat,

how appropriate, that for a musical,

my metaphors switch into straining 

to hold the movement as central to the meaning:

the characters whose very movement can release their stories,

the songs whose sound pulls me in

and whose meaning can undo my distancing

and bring me fully focused into appreciating

the depth of the messages

and the power of the messengers,

whose movement and story and song

pull me into offering tear after tear

in appreciation of the alchemy of what brilliance

can come into being and live upon the stage,

as I told the kids just before opening night opened,

we see them, we know them,

and we are in awe of the totality of their gifts

and the power of what has been wrought

because so many gave so much,

because each held close and let free the power within 

that can hide itself away

and which nevertheless aches to break free,

in our musical Narnia I joy in how many 

break free into excellence.

by Henry H. Walker  February 9, ’13