Adam-Richter.com

I was starting to hate “Banshee.” I admit it.

I shouldn’t confess something like this in the middle of a run (“Banshee” still has three performances left this coming weekend), but at some point in the last week of rehearsals I hit a wall. The actors were terrific — still are. The pacing, direction, lighting, dance, music — all great.

The problem was with the script. Every single word sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me by the time we got to tech week. I no longer saw the play that everyone else believed in: I only heard the flaws.

Another name for doubt is the Inner Editor: that nagging voice in your head that tells you that what you’ve created isn’t as good as you think it is. Bad enough when it — I shall not dignify my Inner Editor by assigning it a gender — shows up during the writing process. But in rehearsal? When I’m watching the actors and hearing them deliver lines I’ve written and rewritten about a thousand times? That’s just cruel.

When the rational part of my brain finally took over, on opening night, I realized that I’m too close to the material to judge it with any kind of objectivity. The only way to see if “Banshee” works for an audience is go get an audience in front of it.

Who knew? People liked “Banshee.” Suck it, Inner Editor!

The first weekend’s performances were well attended by lively audiences — many of whom stuck around for a talkback afterward, and gave positive feedback. One person who saw the show later wrote on Facebook (reprinted here with permission):

“Adam Richter has created an intriguing, beautifully crafted new play, and the performances are first-rate, and all the production values enhance this haunting story. Choreography by Jessica Warchal-King is perfect, and Jody Reppert’s direction keeps everything moving and takes advantage of this intimate space.”

The mother of Andrea Keck, who plays Nancy, was moved to write a review of her own on Stage Magazine’s site:

“The themes hit deep. This isn’t just good local theater — this is the kind of storytelling that stays with you.”

Why am I writing this? Is it just to stroke my own ego? Push ticket sales?

Maybe. But the bigger lesson I learned from all of this is that how you envision a piece of art in your head and how it is seen by other people are two completely different experiences, and you can’t predict the latter without trusting the former. So make the art. Do the thing. Be as creative, as wild, as you want. Someone will appreciate it.

And while you’re at it, tell your Inner Editor to STFU.