Why theatre matters to us

The Selfish Giant, 2019

Hello friends of Ghostlight,

As we approach the end of 2019 and Giving Tuesday, we wanted to share with you our personal stories of why theatre is so important to us and, in turn, to others.

We know this is the time of year you are bombarded with requests from very worthy organizations and some of them are literally making life or death differences in people's lives. But we’d like to take a moment to explain why the arts matter as well.

Supporting the arts is more nebulous. You look at Ghostlight and you think, "They put on theatre. That’s nice." And we do that, yes. We put on theatre that challenges the status quo, that asks probing questions, that doesn’t shy away from a fight. Through our Nightlight series, we bring engaging, yet meaningful theater to young audiences. We are trying to make them, not the consumers of culture that our society is so actively engaged in pursuing but, active participants in our culture and in our society in general. Theatre can do that.

But theatre can also sometimes make a life or death difference in a person's life. It empowers young people, gives them purpose, brings them friends, it helps them realize there are others like them and they are not alone.

It has done that for all of us here at Ghostlight and for countless other theatre kids around this world. It may be doing it right now for someone you know and love, someone you don't realize is struggling to understand why they are here on this planet at this time and place.

That is why you should support the arts and why we hope you will support Ghostlight, as we make a place for future generations of artist to tell the stories that matter to them and to help them find their purpose, their home.

Keep scrolling to read personal stories from our Ensemble members about how theatre made a difference in their lives and continues to do so to this day.

— The Ensemble

Jean E. Burr

Jean E. Burr, Casting Coordinator, Ensemble Member

Jean E. Burr, center, as Lydia, in Ghostlight’s 2019 production of The Selfish Giant.

"When I was 2 years old, I wanted to be a lion. I would roar at the lions when we went to the zoo (I’m sure they loved that), I would read and re-read my Zoobooks issue all about African cats, I’d play with my lion figurines, developing stories that I can only compare to Young & the Restless: Simba Edition.

"I did all of this, not only because I was a weird kid, but because I watched Disney’s The Lion King. I saw it in theatres… nine times. I listened to the soundtrack constantly and knew that my calling in life was to become a true, African wild cat.

"As I grew up, I realized my dream could never be a reality. I could never turn into a lion a la Animorphs and sing Elton John songs as I slept on a giant kopje with my lion friends.

"Or so I thought.

"When I entered pre-school, I was well over my desire to actually become a lion, but I quickly fell into pretend games with other children. We played Sailor Moon (I was always Sailor Jupiter, thankyouverymuch), Aladdin (I settled for the role of Rajah- not quite a lion, but close enough), Thumbelina (titular role, duh), or our own adventure games on the playground. My imagination ran wild.

"Our pre-school put on the show Peter Pan. I remember being pulled aside after school and offered the role of Wendy. Being the brat that I am, I accepted but told my mom I really wanted to play Tinkerbell. She talked some sense into me and I grew more and more excited. We probably only rehearsed a few days, but it felt like a month-long rehearsal process with clear actions, beats, scene-work, relationships, drama, complete with a show-crush on our Peter Pan.

"The performance was, in my memory, the most magical thing in the world. I felt so happy to be performing in front of my family and peers, and so proud when all of my scenes were well-received. I remember 'walking the plank' before Peter saved me, and thinking to myself, 'I LOVE this.' Afterwards, I received praise and hugs, and I felt like a giant, glowing ball of happiness in a blue nightgown costume. From lions to playground to Peter Pan, I found what I wanted to do. My brother had his sports, and I had theatre. And it would be a giant part of my life from that moment and for the next 22+ years.

"Theatre gave me purpose. It gave me empathy. It helped me form bonds and friendships from pre-school to adulthood. It helped me find my way to my home, Chicago. It gave me hope when I was lost in my late teens and early twenties. It helped me find a partner. It helped me find my place. Without theatre, I would be lost. With it, I can be anything, even a lion."

Chad Wise

Chad Wise, Managing Director, Ensemble Member

Chad Wise (center) as Chet in Ghostlight's 2016 production of Krampus!

"After being big fish in a little pond in high school, I got to college and didn't know what to do. My parents insisted I have a 'fall back on' degree so I chose to be an education major, with theatre as a focus. But because of the education requirements, I couldn't go deep into the theatre classes I really wanted to take. So while I performed a lot, I didn't really have much of a path or the opportunity to discover a path. Then came In The Flesh.

"For Christmas my sophomore year I was gifted my choice of tickets to a show playing in Chicago. Being a Central Illinois boy and not knowing what I was doing, I poked through the newspaper (this was 1992 after all). There was the traditional fare, musicals, Shepard, etc. But nothing reached out and grabbed me. Until I saw Clive Barker's name. I had discovered the movie Night Breed the previous year and was enamored. So I chose a production of In The Flesh at the Organic Theater (back when they were on Clark Street).

"Up until this show I admittedly hadn't seen or experienced much theatre. The usual high school stuff (Grease, Little Shop of Horrors) mixed in with some edgier stuff by a great drama teacher (The Diviners, Breaking the Code) and then a year and a half worth of college theatre. But nothing had really jumped out at me yet. This show did. Set in a prison with a supernatural undercurrent, the palpable fear and anxiety I felt in the small studio theater was a far cry from singing along to Greased Lightning. And it affected me deeply. More than anything, it showed me that theatre had the capacity to trigger strong emotions in people beyond the usual joy and sadness and empathy. That a small space could be a help rather than a hindrance. And that the only way to truly do a genre justice is to embrace it completely.

"That show informed most of my choices from then on. It led me into directing and producing. When it came time to start a theatre company it inspired our mission. And to this day, giving people a new and different experience in the dark is the guiding force behind what I do. An app on your phone will never truly affect you like an actor staring straight at you from a few feet away. This is why I do theatre. Life is about experiencing new experiences. Theatre lets me do that for a room full of people every time the lights dim."

Miona Lee

Miona Lee, Co-Artistic Director, Ensemble Member

Miona Lee, left, in Ghostlight's 2018 production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile.

"I’ve always struggled with allowing people to know the real me. Call it social anxiety, call it trust issues stemming from childhood, whatever. That fact is, I’m not comfortable around people and don’t share much of myself with others.

"I could tell you a cute story of how when I was in fifth grade I played a Marilyn Monroe version of Mrs. Claus complete with feather boa and caught the theater bug. But really, I found performing was the perfect escape from myself. I found slipping into someone else’s skin liberating. I didn’t have to bare my soul to others.

"Through the years I’ve played my fair share of Queens, fairies, villains, misguided actresses, sisters, wives, girlfriends and the occasional warrior. Each time, I burrowed into these characters to find out what it is they might be hiding from others. Sharing these flawed characters to an audience has allowed me to open up more in my own life. It’s OK that I’m flawed, there are people out there that will accept me no matter what.

"For me, theater is much more than telling important stories that remind us we’re all connected. It’s my way of slowly learning to accept myself and trust that others will do the same. "

Keith Gatchel

Keith Gatchel, Technical Director, Ensemble Member

Keith Gatchel working the booth for Ghostlight's 2017 production of Gingerbread Grindhouse.

"'What is it that you do?' my childhood friend asked me a few months into Freshman year of high school. My dad had moved my brother and me to a new, separate school, and this was one of the few chances we had to hang out anymore.

"Everyone had asked me that since the year started, to see what I was going to do to make friends. I had not put much thought into this. I wasn't an introverted child, but I liked my alone time.

"People suggested theatre to me, because I've always had an active imagination. But, it always seemed like it was (I thought) too girly and that I would (I thought) get made fun of.

"But on TV I always liked shots of the control booth, and they were always punching buttons. So, one day, I showed up to my high school scene shop after school, around 3:20 p.m. A little after 4 p.m., I left. The next day, the same. After a few more times, I stopped showing up – all that set- building was hard work.

"The fall play came and went. My dad and I saw it and walked out at intermission. High school theatre, on average, tends not to impress. But, still, they all seemed to be having a lot of fun. Where else do you get to dress up, be silly, and fulfill an elective. But, it seemed too late to go back. They'd remember me quitting. Everyone had already made their friends and wouldn't take any more (I thought).

"Christmas break came and went.

"I don't remember why I was in the cafeteria several hours after school, but one of the guys from the scene shop and I started making small talk. He suggested that I come help with the show, moving sets. It was all I needed to get back in.

"I spent that weekend, then weekday evenings, in tech rehearsal and then the following weekend working the show. I felt accepted there, even though I didn't know anyone.

"That weekend ended last, but I wanted more.

"The next day I showed up back to the scene shop, and, as I'm sure you can predict: I skipped out after an hour. The next day, the same. By the next day, the scene shop teacher finally called me out: 'Keith, if you're going to do something, do it.'

"I thought to myself at that moment, 'What if this is the thing I don't quit? What if I just kept doing this until I can't anymore?'

"That moment will be 20 years ago in January. I haven't quit yet.

"I've asked myself often since if the only reason I've stayed in theatre is because of my dumb, stubborn, self. That's partially true. But, theatre distracts you while you socialize. It gives you a project two of you can work together on while you get to know each other. You forget your weird awkward self and relax, with a community that's made for putting yourself out there. You build friendships while you build a show.

"Three and half years later, I was off to college, ready to start on my BFA in technical theatre. I didn't worry about making friends at that point. I just waited for classes to start."

Holly Robison

Holly Robison, Producing Director, Ensemble Member

Holly Robison, second from left, at a production meeting for Ghostlight's 2016 festival of new works, Six Authors in Search of a Character.

"When I was in the second grade, I played a bunny who choked on a cookie.  I remember that I prepared. We didn't have to memorize our lines, but I was the only kid who did. While it seemed all that was expected was to step forward and read our lines, I thought about how to create the moment, how to choke on the cookie — how to bite the cookie like a rabbit would, the timing of the bite, when to say my line, when to start coughing, etc. I was a painfully shy kid and usually went out of my way to avoid attention  — to avoid talking to people at all, really  — but, man, was I into creating that character. All that scary stuff went away because I had to be a bunny, and I had a cookie to choke on, darn it. I loved it. (OK, full disclosure: repeated teacher-sanctioned cookie consumption may have contributed to my 8-year old joy. But really, that is still part of the joy — those silly, fun, crazy things you get to do and learn as actor. ) 

"Even though it was many, many years before I fully realized and embraced that part of myself, I know now that this was probably the first sign that I was a 'theatre person' at my core. It's my first memory of a love for performance, for crating a character, for telling a story."

Maria Burnham

Maria Burnham, Co-Artistic Director, Ensemble Member

Maria Burnham, right, as Beatrice the Weimaraner in Ghostlight’s live movie reading of Best In Show.

"Theatre and acting had been a part of my life in some way since elementary school, becoming more so once I went to a performing arts magnet high school and then studied theatre (and English AND journalism) in college. My attraction to the arts was always a sense of bafflement to my working-class family that excelled in technical skills and mathematics, but had never seen a play until I came along. Maybe it baffled me too. Who can say? All I knew was it was a way to lose myself in new worlds and adventures. It let me leave behind the boredom of a solitary childhood spent living where my parents worked with empty boxes as my playground and a chicken as a pet.

"It wouldn’t be until after college that I would discover that my mom too had used the arts to escape the horrors of a childhood marked by war, extreme poverty and a donkey as a pet. She used dance and later a film career to leave behind her village life for good. The revelation that acting was a hereditary trait, that there was this entire history of myself that I didn't know, was unsettling. But it was also comforting. Theatre connects me to my family history in a way that old photos do not. That I could literally be the same person that my mother had been by taking on a role, that we both understood what it meant to create new people and new worlds, that acting had led my mother to be in Athens when my father was in Athens resulting in my actual existence? Well, now, that's something that no other career could ever give me."