A Peter on the Roof

Venezuela. Acting. Marriage. Family. Friends.  These are all things that I’ve had to surrender to Father, often more than once, holding them out to Him with an open hand saying, “Here.  You can take these away from me.  I trust you.  You’re more important to me.”  Even when I sacrifice something comparatively small, surrender is never easy, especially when it’s unexpected...

 *****

I looked down at my jank phone to see 3 texts from Korkosz.  Not unusual—I’m not the most timely texter of the bunch— but then Korkosz stormed into our class room, heels a-clomping, and barked, “Anderson.  Answer your phone!  I need to talk to you right now.” 

“Yes…?”

Korkosz dropped her tough boss act and squealed, “We’re doing a musical!!  I just talked to Betty and she approved it, AND the principle is going to pay for it all and give the ticket sales to charity!  AHHHHH!!!!!”

And I was immediately terrified.

And thrilled, of course!  We had been talking about doing a musical for a year and had tried pitching it a few times, but now, all of a sudden, we had gotten what we wanted—the most terrifying, overwhelming project I had undertaken since directing Last 5 Years with Ben my Senior year of college.  (Yes.  Moving to China does not make my top 2 list of scariest endeavors.  Directing is intimidating ya’ll!)

We went straight to Broadway Jr which offers abridged musicals, perfect for ESL students who have never done a musical before but still have a lot of talent.  After much deliberation, (mainly consisting of “But HOW will we make them fly?!”) we decided on Peter Pan Jr. because it was well-known in China and offered lots of fun parts for students.  Plus, if I failed as a director or the audience couldn’t understand the English, they would at least appreciate and understand the spectacle because we had Juana. 

Juana.  She’s just golden.  Liz and I went to her first with the good news, hoping she would jump on board as our costume designer due to her boss skills.  Hearing the news, this latin sister of mine leaned back in her chair and grinned.  “I’m in,” she said immediately.  “I mean we’re going to go crazy, but I love it.  I mean we’re going to have to plan a lot, but I’m there.  Whatever you decide.”  Talk about a director’s dream!  And then when I went in a few weeks later to discuss my vision for the characters, she nodded knowingly, following my vision, already thinking ahead, already working on sketches.

And the dream team continued in its formation!  Musical Director: Liz Korkosz (obviously), head of the arts department and a fantastic boss and friend who makes work so fun it’s not work.  Choreographer: Brittany Hopkins, our dance teacher who continually wows me with her funky sweaters and leggings, boss skills, and calm but strict presence.  Stage Manager: Elizabeth Barkas, who was BORN to stage manage, with her love of musicals and eerie ability to organize and anticipate your needs.  Set Designer: Robbie Carter, a good pal and one of the most resourceful people I’ve ever met, taking crap from the junk pile and refurbishing it into pinteresty treasures that you’d pay a lot of money for.  Sound: Abby Wight, techie extraordinaire who is insanely supportive and capable.  Props: Meagan Ray , who made me a TUBE TOP for me out of a gross silky scarf the school gave us, and Liz Mac, who painted a scenic view of Venice for my room, since otherwise my window would reveal a trash dump.  Speech and Diction coach: Scooter Thompson: oral interp coach and a master at making kids bloom.  And we had other teachers wanting to get involved, even if it was just making pizza runs for a hungry cast.  The stars had aligned: you don’t always have this assortment of teachers in China, so we just had to act. 

I got to work.  I researched and sketched (in my dino costume for inspiration) to give Robbie ideas with the set.  We visited the SWEET theatre we were renting and measured stuff.  I spent lots of money at cafés, writing job descriptions for every position to minimize miscommunication and gaps in the work.  I spent quality time with the script creating a scene breakdown, analyzing each character and their skill requirements, and determining which dances should be choreographed.  I spent money on Captain Hook hands and didn’t spend $300 on a crocodile costume. I spent hours talking with my dad, who was incidentally doing the same script in Spain, allowing me to peruse one of his scripts before ours came in.  I spent much of my winter break worrying about when the scripts wouldcome in, since MTI was two weeks late passed their deadline in giving us the rights, and they were not answering any of my dozen+ call and emails.  (Turns out, the guy at Disney was on vacation and dropped the ball…but they offered to send the scripts to China for the domestic price so nbd.  Except Disney was a little less magical to me now.)

Less than a week after I get back to China, Liz KK interrupts my precious jet-lagged slumber at 6:00 am with a text.  “If you freak out like I did when you get the email, call me.”  I knew right then that I wouldn’t sleep again till I read the email, and I probably wouldn’t sleep after. 

Disney had rejected giving us the rights to Peter Pan.

The reason?  Disney on Ice was coming to Beijing around that time.  ….Right!?!  As if we were going to break their box office.  (It’s a shame really; I would have liked to have gone to Disney on Ice, but now I feel like I have to boycott out of principle.)  We had to either push back the performance six weeks later (summer) or six weeks earlier (impossible).  Or we could pick another non-Disney show. 

By the grace of Father, I didn’t panic.  I did text Korkosz with, “Screw you Disney! If you had told us when you were supposed to..!!  Ok.  I need to think and then I need to think.” 

That’s the thing.  Throughout this whole thing, I don’t think I talked to Father much about it at all.  Oh I worried, and occasionally shot a quick request, but I don’t think I was really seeking Him and His will in it all.  The whirlwind of a new, overwhelming project just kind of swept me up before I knew what was happening.  I do, however, remember asking Him, “Father, if this is not what you want, please close the door.”  And He had.  Slammed it.  Disney on Ice, really?  What are the odds.  So I strangely felt peace, like He had saved me from a nightmare waiting to happen.  “Aw sweetie, you think you can pull of Peter Pan?  Let me protect you from your own insanity and misplaced confidence…” 

But then Liz and I were faced with a huge decision: do we try for another play, or drop it and do something else?   We had to act fast because we had auditions scheduled in two weeks, and China is freakin far away from America, so shipping was going to be an issue.  But the problem was, I was a HOTT mess, in general, for a number of reasons, and I just did not feel like making a decision that would seriously affect 100+ people when I was not feeling rational.  So Liz and I talked to Father first thing when we got to the office, thanking Him for being bigger, and for giving us each other in this stressful process.  We begged for wisdom and quick responses. 

Our only other option was Fiddler on the Roof.  The pros: good roles, simple dancing and staging, no flying, and Liz and I were super familiar with it, having both played Hodel our sophomore year of high school.  Most importantly I had the very script with me in China, so I could use it as a reference before our scripts came.  (I had happened to bring it from the states that winter break, thinking that—meh—maybe I could use it for a few scenes in my class.)  The concerns: Did we have a Tevye?  Can we make Anatevka NOT the most boring song in all musical theatre history, and, oh yeah!  This play was about Jews in Russia in 1905.  Religion, politics, obscure cultural references, minimal spectacle…definitely not ideal for China.  To spare you the details, we asked a whole lot of people if they thought we were crazy.  No one, even our Chinese colleagues, thought the religion and politics would be a problem.  Though, when I asked Dawn for her opinion, she looked at me like O-o  “Jews?  Russia?  What?  Soooo…different from China…” and I was like, “I know…but it’s our last option.  If I can sell it to the students and make it clear to the audience, do you think it will be ok?  I won’t get deported or anything, will I?”  And she said, “Noooo…of course not.  You are a forever friend of China.  I think this is good.” 

That very night we got rights to Fiddler.  (Ohh! Nowww you’re a swift email answerer! O-kay.)  We slept on it, and talked to Father together.  Liz was so right as she said, “Father…if nothing else, this taught us to come to you and make you the center of this project.”  And there was just peace.  And I just praisssse my Father for His goodness.  For reminding me of my dependence on Him; apart from Him I can do nothing.  For testing me to see where I get my value and why I choose to stay in China.  For asking me to surrender something I really wanted and giving me something better.  For protecting me from a project that was maybe going to pull me under.  For blessing me with a team that, though they had also worked on Peter Pan, was 100% supportive in switching plays and starting over.  For providing a musical that I really did love and know.  For giving me the chance to go crazy doing something I love for students I love who may never get this chance again. 

Sure, this is China, and I have no DOUBT that things will get crazy.  We’ll get kicked out of our rehearsal space for something random like “Romanian Culture Day.”  Kids will drop out to study for SATs, language will be an issue, the venue might bail on us, there will be mass communication issues, and we might (will) go crazy.  But for the first time in foreverrrr, Shi Yi is doing a legit, legal, real deal musical.  And I’m excited.    #onlybyhisstrength