Dear Frank,
There’s a moment that happens just before the lights go down, when the room settles, conversations fade, and a kind of quiet anticipation takes over. Lately, I’ve been sitting in that moment a little longer, taking it in.
Because this year, it feels different.
We opened our season with Clue, and from the very first performance, there was an electricity in the room, laughter that felt shared, immediate, and needed. Then came The Marvelous Wonderettes, and I found myself watching not just the stage, but the audience. People swaying in their seats. Smiling at each other. Singing under their breath. For a couple of hours, nothing else seemed to matter.
One of our directors shared a story from intermission, overhearing a patron say how nice it was, in the midst of everything going on in the world, to simply enjoy something joyful. It struck me because it so clearly expressed what we hope theatre can offer, a place to gather, to feel, and to reconnect with one another.
That’s what I’ve been thinking about in those quiet moments before the lights go down. Not just the shows themselves, but what they make possible.
This season has already been full of milestones. We’ve received three BroadwayWorld Phoenix Awards, earned three Viola Award nominations, and will soon be honored with the Governor’s Award as part of the Creative Excellence Awards. These are moments we’re incredibly proud of, but what matters most is what’s happening right here in our community.
Our education programs continue to grow in ways that feel deeply meaningful. Our Stage Buddies production of Seussical Jr. brought young performers of all abilities together on stage in a way that was joyful, inclusive, and unforgettable. We’ve launched our first adult classes, welcoming people into the creative process at every stage of life. And as we look ahead to summer, our camps are already filling with students eager to learn, create, and belong.
There is so much to feel hopeful about.
And at the same time, I want to be honest with you, this growth and momentum has come with real challenges. Like many arts organizations, we are navigating rising costs and a funding landscape that has shifted in ways we’re still working to adapt to. We’ve made a commitment to keep our work accessible, with ticket prices starting at $30, because we believe cost should never be a barrier to experiencing theatre.
But that choice means we rely more than ever on the generosity of people who believe in this work.
If Theatrikos has ever meant something to you, if you’ve laughed in our seats, watched someone you care about on our stage, or simply felt a little more connected walking out than when you came in, I hope you’ll consider making a gift today.
Your support has a direct and lasting impact:
It helps a student step into a rehearsal room for the first time
It supports the artists who dedicate their time and talent to our stage
It ensures we can continue offering work that is accessible, inclusive, and alive with possibility
No gift is too small. Every contribution is part of what keeps the lights coming up, the stories unfolding, and this community gathering together.
I’m so grateful for all that you’ve already helped us build, and for what we can continue to create together.
With appreciation,
