Cry It Out
Source: 123rf - cosmaa and kpdmedia
Imagine sitting on a rollercoaster. The brakes are released and the coaster streams straight to the very tippy top! It races you high and fast, and high and fast—for 20 whole minutes. No downs, no turns, no twists, no slow.
No, thank you!
Without the lows, there is no barometer to measure the highs. Variety creates awareness of our world's limitations, and our personal limitations. What makes us choose to click that “like” button, or smash the angry emoji?
As a live event designer for PGAV, I strive to use the full range of human emotion, whether it is a three-minute musical meeting opener for a corporate event, or a cast of thousands welcoming in the new year. And within this range, I pay careful attention to the lows. I respect them and give them their space while making sure I use them wisely.
Spectacular Highs & Lows
Source: Corporate Magic and John Fornero
When I had the privilege of designing the set for the Oklahoma Centennial Spectacular in 2007, I joined a team that was dedicated to celebrating the century in grand fashion. There were Oklahoma luminaries from the arts, entertainment, and sports. With them were square dancers flinging their partners round and round, awe inspiring Native American performers, hordes of prancing Santa Clauses, and a barrage of celebrities all paying tribute to the great state of Oklahoma’s birthday.
Source: Greg Crane
But if we were to remain true to the state's history for the entire two-and-a-half-hour show, not all could be waving wheat that sure smells sweet. The spectacular couldn’t just exist as a song and dance occasion, it had to address the darker times in the state’s storied past. The sorrow. The heartbreak. The lows.
Of particular sensitivity was the 1995 bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City. This horrific event was still fresh in everyone’s hearts. We knew we had to be careful, respectful, and give space for the grief.
We decided to memorialize the tragic event about mid-way through the show. This began by gently lowering the lights and welcoming Garth Brooks to the stage. We gave the audience time to cheer for this marvelous entertainer, and then a few seconds to look deeply into his somber face. Then as realization hit and as silence descended, he spoke:
“From across the dark abyss of pain and grief where the Murrah building once stood, there now shines a light ... We honor those victims tonight by looking to the future.”
Suddenly a warm, candlelit glow shimmered throughout the Ford Center as Reba McEntire appeared and soulfully sang “If I Had Only Known.”
By bringing the audience to this reflective place slowly and carefully, they were ready to hear, remember, and reflect as Ms. McEntire gave voice to their sorrow. And after, when we carefully brought the energy level back up, the crowd felt it more keenly because they had experienced the connective moment of group lamentation—they had felt the low.
Handle With Care
Source: 123rf
Emotions are the secret gift that is passed around and shared during live events. They make each performance unique. Our audience gives us access to their emotions when they step into our spaces. It is our job to handle them with care. When the audience graces us with their presence, they are entrusting us to not just entertain, but to make them, as a collective, experience something grand. Something awe-inspiring. Something rad, or something sad.
In the end, people want a show. They want an escape; to feel; a release of endorphins and a sense of connection. It is with great craft that we tell our stories with care, respect, and honesty. We are fellows of the art of sharing and caring. And if we do our job right, we create an environment where it is okay to chuckle and guffaw. Scream or shout. And yes… if the show fits—cry it out.
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