Between Us

Much as we might want you to believe otherwise, it’s not rocket science, this thing we do as theater artists. It’s kind of gobsmackingly simple, truth be told.

We tell other people’s stories. Bam. That’s it.

Whether as actors stepping into the time, place, context and psyche of another being, or as directors crafting worlds in which an audience from one point of view can come meet a narrative from another one, we’re really just humans telling stories about other humans.

But here’s the thing. After a few years of isolation and a few years of divisive rhetoric, I can’t think of anything more bracing, more wonderful, and more essential than that simple act of — wait for it — trading places. Stepping fully into the world of someone who carries different burdens, harbors different hopes, faces different receptions than those with which we’re accustomed. You do it as audience members as well (and bless you for that), by committing a couple hours of your time to that same act of surrender. “Go ahead,” you say to a collection of people on that stage in front of you. “Tell us what’s going on in your world. We’ll listen.”

How simple. How radical. How necessary.

Trading Places was the right show for us to bring to you for a host of reasons, including that aforementioned one. But one that needs to be mentioned before closing out is that it brings home to Atlanta and the Alliance a major part of this arts community and this theater’s origin story, and that’s Kenny Leon. It’s such a gift to have him back in these hallways and rehearsal studios and in this zip code.

So welcome home, Kenny. And welcome each and every one of you who had the heart and the generosity to sign up for a few hours in someone else’s story. You are why we should all have hope.

Susan V. Booth

Jennings Hertz Artistic Director