Dear Audience Member,

Thank you for being here. No, really, I know that decision was probably a hard one to make. None of us signed up to make “Zoom theater.” And you probably didn’t sign up to watch it. But you’re electing to be here now, just as we’ve elected to make “Zoom theater” anyway. Throughout my three years at CMU, I’ve gone back and forth and thought a lot about the art I want to make. It’s changed drastically. But it was never this. So how do we embrace a form we never wanted?

We’ve all been thrust into this vast unknown for our industry and the world. Suddenly, making art is either the least important thing or the most important thing. I think I fall into the former—the “least important” group—because it’s all I can do to just be a human being right now. (It’s okay, your life force doesn’t need to be sustained by making art to consider yourself an artist.) As someone who usually fully devotes herself to the art she is making and to supporting her collaborators, feeling this way about making art is new territory for me. And I’m guessing it’s new territory for you as well. My artistic practice has transformed in COVID-19. I’m consuming much more art now, as the need to travel to and exist within a different world supersedes my other needs. And the little art that I am making tends to be driven by my own needs for respite; when before, my art was driven by the needs and questions of other people.

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However, for those of us to whom making art is the most important thing, “Zoom theater” is all we’ve got. And moments of impact and connection, regardless of how brief, can still be found over Zoom. Even the process of creating over Zoom provided much-needed respite from isolation. My collaborators on Desdemona’s Child have stayed focused on and driven towards sharing this play and honoring our process throughout this crisis. Under these deeply changed circumstances, each artist still wanted to learn from working with this material, and to see one another through the natural process of grieving the production that couldn’t be. Our director and stage management team worked tirelessly with the actors to make this an engaging and exciting experience for you. The designers pivoted the realization of our thinking about the world of the play from a physical landscape to a virtual one. While the shift in form has been challenging, the content of the play remains as relevant as ever. My hope is that you see the parallels between the unassuming town of Wiley’s Bend and our global situation.

Desdemona’s Child deals with legacy. The legacy of the names “Desdemona,” “Othello,” and “Iago” in our culture. The legacy of trauma in a young adult’s life. The legacy of tragedy in a barely recovered town. The legacy of institutionalized racism, ongoing today. I wonder what the legacy of this pandemic will be. Will we change the institutions that will need to be reinvented, such as our healthcare and economic systems, because this pandemic revealed their inadequacy? Will we learn how to be more prepared next time? Or will we be so relieved to be out of this mess that we repeat the cycle all over again? I think the onus is on us to witness our society’s previous failings, and use that learning to prevent new ones. Connecting over Desdemona’s Child across time and space, we’re one step closer to seeing these failings and having the hard conversations.

What’s important to me is that you, wherever you are, are taking the time to appreciate this art. In this crazy new normal where it’s all you can do to just be a human being, I hope that Desdemona’s Child provides you with some necessary moments of connection. Some of us really need those moments. Sharing this play with other people provides some connection for me. So thank you for being here.

Sincerely,

Amalia Baker