I attended a goodbye party of two close colleagues on Friday. They were individuals with whom I have partnered for the past 13 years and who have been coaches, mentors and friends. We all know that our friendship will continue, and so this is not a “goodbye” in any way. But there is a certain melancholy in knowing that we will not be interacting on a daily basis moving forward.
With any departure, whether it is instantaneous (the end of an argument), temporary (the parting of good friends) or permanent (the death of a loved one), there is a sense of loss, of passage, and of change. We know we must spend the appropriate time acknowledging the alterations and understanding the revised world. But equally imperative, we should know not dwell on the past wishing for a revised set of circumstances. In the end, we have to let go and free ourselves from these attachments.
Inherently this is a necessary and difficult action, but why is it so important to let go?
In the musical Yank!, two WWII GI’s meet, fall in love and lose each other through the progression of the war. The show captures the aching for companionship, the longing for fraternity and the desire for purpose of a new, squad of recruits thrown into a drawn-out battle in the South Pacific. The star-crossed heroes attempt to defy the hypocritical strictures of military life that forbids homosexuality and at the same time inherently requires a draft to fulfill its quota of bodies. But this is not a time period for acceptance, and by holding on to the relationship longer than feasible, they create a false reality of stasis and permanence.
In the end, we forget the same-gender relationship of the protagonists, and view the show as symbolic of any individuals unable to live together due to societal circumstances, e.g. race, ethnicity, religion. The production story line is tautly held and the minimalist sets support imagining the varied settings of the two acts. In addition, the generation-appropriate music and lock-step lyrics of the production make the show a welcome entry into the musical theater repertoire. The run at the York Theater has closed, but people should be able to catch the show in its on Broadway reincarnation in the Fall.
Sondheim on Sondheim is a celebration of a Stage giant’s music, genius and wit. Recognized as the reigning composer of musical theater, Sondheim himself provides narrative on his work through the decades. Revealed in this intimate structure is a man who is obsessed with the creation of precise, finely drawn art, and simultaneously one who recognizes the eventual need to free the work to the public for scorn or acclaim.
The narrative is interspersed by performances from a stellar cast headlined by Barbara Cook, Tom Wopat and Vanessa Williams. Cook and Williams shine in their articulation and punctuated delivery of the Sondheim material. Although the high-tech production is distracting and clouds over the music at points, overall the talent of the composer and performers gloriously shines through.
Finally, in Xi’an, China, we heard a story from our guide. She related how two monks – one older and one younger – were taking a pilgrimage to another temple. Walking through the countryside, they encountered a brook through which they needed to wade. At the river-side, there was a young girl also looking to cross. Taking her hand, the older monk walked her through the current to the other side, and then they both bid her goodbye.
Upon reaching the temple by nightfall, the younger monk said, “I must report you now to the others, for you know it is forbidden to touch a woman.” The older man, looked thoughtfully at his companion, put his hand on the youth’s shoulder and replied, “Do as you wish but reflect on your motivation, for I know that I have already let her go.”
By holding on too long to our most precious desires, creations or relationships, we deceive ourselves that we can control the changing environment and alter the world to the best outcome. A song writer unwilling to share their art until it is perfect is analogous to a debater holding to an untenable argument, lovers defying an oppressive reality, a monk dreaming of an alternate path or a child refusing to accept the death of a parent. In all these cases, personal growth is hindered because people refuse to move on.
The fallacy is that we grow by holding on to things more tightly. The important lesson of moving on, is not that we shouldn’t perfect art, fight for love or argue passionately, but is that we are better people by knowing when and how to progress to the next level of learning by letting go of what we cherish and seeing how the external world reacts to our actions. This can be frightening, because it may result in immediate loss
Even though my fellow Principals and friends have left from the practice, by letting go this is an opportunity for them and us to grow.
April 25, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
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