Part of the journey is the end

Tonight is a moment we’ve been heading toward without always realizing it. Closing night approaches quietly at first, at the end of long weeks and late nights, and then arrives loudly, all at once, tonight. These past two months have been a whirlwind of music, choreo, staging, restaging, memorization, rock-building, costuming, puppeteering, “evil Josh” dreams, discoveries, breakthroughs, and laughter, and I am deeply grateful to have walked every step of that path with all of you. With this Tribe. 

Beyond just this fantastic show you have all poured your blood, sweat, and broken bones into, I am most proud of how you have made this Tribe become a unit. Your support for one another in the way you lift each other up, steady each other in moments of hardship, celebrate each other’s wins, and share every ridiculous, joy-filled moment has made this cast truly feel like FAMILY! (just imagine Smelly-Balls yelling that last word). What you have created together backstage is every bit as meaningful as what you created onstage, and I thank you for that care and community you have built together.

Thank you, especially, for making my first full directing production at I.B.W. so deeply meaningful. I could not have asked for a kinder, funnier, braver, or more generous group of humans to share in this process. From your commitment to discovery, your willingness to try new things, and your infectious energy, thank you for taking a silly cave-person show and making it a profound experience. Through injuries, breakthroughs, and bases pretending to be tenors, you trusted me and trusted each other. That trust built something far bigger than just a show, it built a community I will always remember with gratitude. 

Most of you will go on to many more shows. Some of you will share stages again, and some will join casts where no one has fought Snarl, argued the Great Debate, or worshiped a duck god. But tonight… tonight is almost certainly the last time this exact group of homo sapians will ever tell this story together. 

This is why we do theatre. Not for permanence or perfection, for that was never our goal. Theatre matters because it only exists in the present. It lives for a few breaths, a few heartbeats, a few shared moments in the dark where we all agree to believe in the same fantasy. And even when that fantasy includes a mammoth costume, eating rocks, and shitting out fire, the moments you spend together on stage are rare and precious. 

We live in a world where we try to save everything: sunsets captured in photos, concerts recorded on phones, memories archived with the hope of recreation in the future. But we have already documented this show. We have pictures, the recordings, the posters. So tonight, don’t perform for preservation or perfection.

Perform for you.

Perform for the Tribe that grew from a big circle read-through, talking through lyrics because we didn’t know the songs yet, into a family. Perform for the months of work that carried us here. Perform for the absurdity, the creativity, the chaos, the charm, for the joy of sharing this story and the love you have for each other. Perform for the singular, fleeting magic of living something that exists only in this one special moment together. 

Live this show one last time.

And leave everything you have on the cave floor. 

With immense pride and gratitude,

Josh

P.S. 

TRIBE VIBE!