Spring is a very important time
for myself + Gadfly Theatre Productions, and it's quite fitting that my series on running a queer-focused theatre begins here.
Valentine’s Day – a day to declare to the world that you're in love – was just upon us and I am unabashedly, madly, passionately, stop-the-world in love with my work. Spring marks a sort-of anniversary for the company, as it was around this time a year ago that I turned to my favorite Jack and said “You know, there’s really no reason we can’t start our theatre company now” and went on eating my lasagna as if I didn’t just propose a life-changing partnership.
“Okay” he replied, simply. My grin was a mixture of mischief, disbelief and sheer delight. We settled on a date for our very first official meeting of Gadfly Theatre Productions. We were beyond excited after that initial meeting – we’d long since talked of starting a company to give a voice to the voiceless, a company largely concerned with queer theatre and new important works, a company that inspires the audience to positive action in their own life.
Getting started was surprisingly simple, and at times the simplicity of it all made us wonder if we were doing it wrong. An acquaintance who runs her own non-profit arts company gave us a checklist of everything we needed to do to operate legally and efficiently. We sat down and did it in what I like to think of as record-breaking time. Mission statement? Check. Board of directors? Check. Fiscal Sponsorship? And done. We were born for this, we knew it, and nothing was going to stop us.
The simplicity of our pre-production days was short-lived
once we were ready to begin working on shows, and there was a lot of confusion and frustration surrounding our inaugural production. We consider ourselves more than competent, but there were things we didn’t factor in – the schedules of our day jobs, how hard it would be to find quality scripts that fit our mission, and the fact that neither of us had ever written a grant before in our lives.
Additionally, while we have always had a fantastic support base, there was also a fair amount of naysaying flying about. I heard everything from “What are you going to do when it falls through?” to a disarmingly patronizing “Oh, cute”.
I know that anytime anyone embarks on an entrepreneurial journey this is the case. Not only did I not take it personally, but I used the doubt of others to further fuel my ten to twelve hour workdays, keep me going during emotionally // mentally trying rehearsals, and keep me even more grateful for every single success we achieved.
And yes, there has been success to be proud of.
We've had one-half of a successful season, with buzz buzzing all over the latter half. Buzz!
I tell this story all the time, often unsolicited, because it's upsetting to think that there are people who are not madly, passionately, stop-the-world in love with their work. Even my side projects, freelance work, and day job all contribute to my ultimate goals (and if they don’t, then it’s because I’m more than a little in love with them too).
I write about Gadfly’s story in hopes that readers like you, will be inspired to stop anything unfulfilling that they may be doing and find a career that they're going to be head over feet with. It's worth every bit of the fighting + juggling + mistakes + “I can’t, I have rehearsal” mantras to know that I'm one-half owner of a company bound and determined to change the world, or at least our community, through art.
(And, maybe it’s presumptuous, but I think we have a real shot).
I hate the saying follow your bliss, because it ain’t always bliss. It’s hard. You’ll have 'ugly cries' and a moment or two where you wonder why you’re doing what you're doing. Then you’ll remember, and all of the pain and frustration will give way to the most intense, long-lasting satisfaction you've ever known.
*To learn more about Gadfly Theatre Productions, please e-mail us at gadflytheatre@gmail.com.
Any of you Jack + Jill partners-in-crime on the rollercoaster ride of starting a biz?
Got tips? War stories? Let's talk about it . .




