When people ask me what I do, I usually say I’m in the business of storytelling. I have a day job at the bustling cafe Buster Greens and two absolutely hilarious primary school-aged daughters but the remainder of my time is usually spent spinning yarns.
Whether it be playing a role on stage, crafting a wedding ceremony as a celebrant, telling jokes as stand-up comedian, singing or writing a blog, I love taking an audience on a journey. And I am not alone. Otepoti is heaving with creative people who have stories to share. And like all good stories, this one has a beginning, a middle and hopefully, an end.
To set the scene, the pre-lockdown Dunedin live entertainment calendar was packed to the rafters with something for everyone. Personally, I was involved in three events as part of our beloved and inevitably cancelled Dunedin Fringe Festival, I was in rehearsals for Les Miserables, produced by Music Theatre Dunedin, which is now postponed until May 2021, and I still had three weddings left for the season and several emcee gigs lined up.
In the beginning, the Level 4 announcement came as something of a relief. Level 2 created all kinds of ambiguity about whether or not performances could or should take place. The uncertainty and responsibility for making those kinds of decisions and knowing people’s livelihoods were at stake, was stressful and exhausting.
The move to Level 4, while absolutely devastating for the industry, meant the decisions were made for us. And while it was painful to witness the cancellation of so much passion, most of us could appreciate that the “go hard and go early” approach was preferable to the scenes we were witnessing unfold in other parts of the world.
For many of us in the business of sharing stories, months of preparation and work, future gigs, bookings and income are gone. And I’m not just talking the show ponies on stage like myself. For every gig that is cancelled there are many others affected: producers, directors, choreographers, musicians, tech crews, sponsors, ticket agents, ushers and of course, you, our audiences.
This is more than just a fiscal tragedy. Faced with the prospect of not having live performances for potentially months to come, many of us have a burning need to tell stories regardless of whether or not it puts food on the table and we are hurting.
This is the late-middle part of the story. From the comfort of my living room, it has been incredible to watch the performing arts community emerge from its initial grief and shock into new and innovative ways to creatively fulfill both themselves and their audiences. My social media feed is overflowing with hilarious memes, brilliant short films and epic dance-offs. There are daily Lego challenges, orchestral works on Zoom, singers duetting with themselves and I’ve been invited to no less than three different quiz nights where each team goes to extreme lengths to dress up and try to outdo each other week after week. Absolute show-offs.
So how is the end of this story shaping up for the performing arts in Dunedin? Well, if we’re looking for a happily ever after, it might not come quickly but I do believe, just like the handsome prince in fairy tales, it will come.
Storytelling through live performance has withstood many significant historic disruptions but an artist’s burning need to share their stories will continue to be equalled by our audiences’ need to hear them.
At Level 2, live but intimate performances will re-emerge and slowly but surely the scene will get back on its feet. For every person who has passed time during the restrictions by watching or listening or engaging in the performing arts in some way, it will be more important to support a local scene that promises to be richer and fuller on the other side of lockdown.
To laugh or cry or be moved in some way by a shared story is a gift. And I am so eager, not only to read about but also to play a part in the next chapter of our local performing arts scene.
■Voices from Margaret Mitchell, Marian Poole and Gerrard Eckhoff are at odt.co.nz/opinion
