Firefly Tapestry Spins Magic Out of Goodbyes in “Valediction”

From humankind’s earliest moments, through all of history’s innovations and tragedies, across our biggest cities and most remote towns, one thing has always united us—the understanding that we’re all here temporarily. Throughout our lives, most of us will say farewell to grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, friends, siblings, even children. So, perhaps it would be to all our benefit to learn the art of saying goodbye.

That’s precisely what Valediction, the new immersive, site-specific theatrical experience by Firefly Tapestry Storytelling vows to teach us over the course of its ninety minutes (plus hours of remote interaction that take place beforehand). Staged at the extremely far removed, but architecturally stunning, Hard Luck Castle in Nevada over three nights in January, Valediction is Firefly’s second immersive experience and their first to include in-person interaction. Created by Firefly founder Emma Sheridan, with contributions from Quinn Leary, the experience stars Sheridan, Leary and Austin Minard, with digital media and production assistance by David Mund.

It’s worth mentioning that while Valediction has much to say about remembrance and letting go, it’s not technically a show about death. Not in the literal sense. The experience begins with an introduction to the Fellowship for Astral Truth and Enlightenment (FATE), a collective that bills itself as “a sanctuary for seekers journeying toward greater spiritual understanding.” Acceptance into the group begins with a reading held by Trinity Vale (played by Sheridan), a down-to-earth, slightly skeptical member who introduces you to its New Age mythology and explains the benevolent immortal beings tasked with guiding us collectively through life and what lies beyond. These beings live on planes of existence that are far beyond ours and their influence is generally unseen. What they don’t do is enter our world and interact with humanity.

Not usually, at least.

Along with introducing FATE and their beliefs, this initial reading also serves as a chance to get to know Trinity, who lives with her roommate and lifelong friend Farren Asker (played by Leary) and who invites you to explore the FATE website to learn more about the oracle cards she uses in the reading and peruse a couple of tales from the FATE archives, which read as parables and include life lessons that are aligned with their way of seeing the world. It’s all very metaphysical and it provides the backdrop to all that follows, but what Valediction is really about is the two people who introduce you to all of this—Trinity and Farren. Texts and phone calls from both of them follow your reading, and you uncover that Trinity possesses the ability to manifest objects from her dreams in the physical world as she sleeps, an ability that seems to be getting worse and pushing her towards a reckoning she doesn’t fully understand. This prompts a desperate search by Farren for answers and ultimately, an invitation to you to meet them both, along with a mysterious Oracle tracked down by Farren, at “the Edge of All That is Knowable” (ie. Hard Luck Castle).

There you discover the truth about Trinity, she’s able to turn her dreams into reality because she’s not really a person at all, but the Luminary, one of FATE’s immortal beings. Her innate curiosity towards humankind resulted in her being allowed to live as one for a short while, but her power and ability is disrupting the natural order of things on Earth and it’s time for her to go home. Leading her back to the metaphysical realm where she belongs is another being, the Archivist, who we discover is the Oracle Farren had been searching for. And we learn we have a role to play as well, as Trinity can’t return without our presence overseeing it all and helping to guide her back.

Admittedly, the metaphysics of it all get rather confusing, especially if you struggle to buy into it, like I did. (I appreciated when in our initial reading, Trinity mentioned that she thought Farren “had joined a cult” when he first told her about FATE.) My initial fear was that this disconnect would prevent me from being able to fully engage with the experience, but fortunately, the mythology isn’t what’s important about Valediction. The experience is really about the necessity of saying goodbye, learning to recognize and celebrate all that we shared with our loved ones, and finding the strength to let go and continue on with our lives. Anyone who’s lost someone they’ve cared about should have no problem relating to that.

Throughout our time at the castle, we’re shown moments from Trinity and Farren’s lives together, both joyous and sad. Buoyed by a strong script that balances these instantly relatable interactions with more philosophical lessons on saying goodbye, as well as brave performances by both Sheridan and Leary, we gain a clear understanding of how much they’ve meant to each other and how difficult this parting will be. While it represents a loss for both of them—Trinity will no longer be able to interact with Farren once she’s returned to her realm—the pain and difficulty of it really resonates within Farren’s side of the story. Growing up alone with a frighteningly abusive mother, it was through his friendship with Trinity that Farren found the strength to get through it, and along with the sadness he feels over the loss of his friend, he fears he’ll lack the strength to face life’s challenges on his own. Trinity was likely who he would have turned to if he’d lost anyone else close to him, so what is he supposed to do when he loses her?

Valediction doesn’t really provide answers to questions like these, but rather, it reminds us what it is we’re really doing when we say goodbye—we’re acknowledging all the shared moments we’ve had together and accepting the reality that they’re coming to an end. There’s no getting around the fact that this is difficult, and I found the final moments of Valediction to be profoundly sad in a very poignant, understandable way. Anyone who’s ever had a partner in life, whether it’s a spouse, sibling, parent or best friend, should have no problem empathizing, and Leary’s emotional performance makes his love and loss feel real and relatable.

Yet it needs to be pointed out that as profoundly human the relationship between Farren and Trinity seems to be, it’s not fully human. Trinity is an immortal who’s drawn us all to this very remote castle because it’s where the veil between our realms is at its thinnest. Her journey back is coming at the hands of a powerful, omniscient being—the Archivist, wearing an impressively otherworldly costume and embodied assuredly by Minard—who speaks to us kindly and knowingly about our lives. And perhaps most important, the entire experience is staged within one of the most remarkable environments I’ve ever visited.

It’s hard to overstate how much Valediction both benefits from and feels perfectly suited for the location in which it’s staged. Hard Luck Castle is a round, brick, multi-level structure that’s fully off the grid. It can’t help but feel otherworldly and Valediction’s excellent addition of surreal lighting and sound effects only enhance these natural qualities. The castle’s decorative features feel mystical in a way that aligns with the mythology the show embraces and the spaces within the castle lend themselves to at times powerfully dramatic effect, especially during the show’s penultimate act, which takes place up a spiral staircase and within the castle’s observatory. There, surrounded a full 360 degrees by observation windows and by dozens of flickering candles, we engage in a discussion on all the things that may have been as both actors and audience are enveloped by what feels like stars situated both above and below. It’s an otherworldly setting for a magical scene that would be the show’s standout were it not for the final sequence that follows, and which is set outside the castle.

Hundreds of miles away from any cities, hours after sunset, the stars you can see above as Farren says goodbye to Trinity are breathtaking and truly make you feel like a small part of something bigger that perhaps we don’t yet fully understand. Learning to say goodbye is necessary, and one thing Valediction reminds us is how fundamentally human that is, but it also seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance our lives and souls might intersect again in some way. After all, if there is an edge of all that is knowable, that would suggest that there’s something that exists beyond.

Valediction is a staggeringly bold swing by a still relatively new voice in immersive theater. I can’t imagine the complexity involved in staging a show that’s so remote—not the least of which is enticing people to make the considerable drive out there. Yet there’s something about being so removed from life to make you appreciate it all that much more. We get a real sense of how precious and beautiful it is in all of its complexities—even when they’re painful and difficult. While Valediction gives its audiences much to consider about saying farewell, ironically, I came away unsure that “the art of saying goodbye” is actually a thing. It’s a captivating subtitle, and one can certainly learn to be more thoughtful about letting go of their loved ones, but I don’t know that there’s an actual art to it. But Valediction shows that there’s absolutely an art to producing shows about saying goodbye, and Firefly Tapestry Storytelling seems to understand it beautifully.

Valediction: The Art of Saying Goodbye by Firefly Tapestry Storytelling ran January 12-14, 2024 at the Hard Luck Castle in Goldfield, NV.

How Dare You!

If kids—hell, if anyone is looking for an example of courage and heroism today, you could do far worse than Greta Thunberg. Her speech yesterday at the U.N. General Assembly perfectly captured the rage and betrayal that our youngest generations are feeling about the world that’s being left to them. If it resonated with you, like it did with me, there’s a good chance you’re feeling that rage and betrayal too.

I don’t update this blog as often as I should. I want to change that, but if I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to change that for a while now. I have to assume that in spite of my best intentions, this post, much like my previous two, will likely stay at the top of my website for months, if not years to come. So, if that’s the case, the post might as well be Thunberg’s speech. You should read it if you haven’t (or even better watch it). If you’ve already read it and it’s been a while, it probably wouldn’t hurt to read it again. Because this is something that needs to be top of mind for all of us.

This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be standing here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to me for hope? How dare you! You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I’m one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction. And all you can talk about is money and fairytales of eternal economic growth. How dare you!

For more than 30 years the science has been crystal clear. How dare you continue to look away, and come here saying that you are doing enough, when the politics and solutions needed are still nowhere in sight.

You say you “hear” us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I don’t want to believe that. Because if you fully understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil. And I refuse to believe that.

The popular idea of cutting our emissions in half in 10 years only gives us a 50% chance of staying below 1.5C degrees, and the risk of setting off irreversible chain reactions beyond human control.

Maybe 50% is acceptable to you. But those numbers don’t include tipping points, most feedback loops, additional warming hidden by toxic air pollution or the aspects of justice and equity. They also rely on my and my children’s generation sucking hundreds of billions of tons of your CO2 out of the air with technologies that barely exist. So a 50% risk is simply not acceptable to us – we who have to live with the consequences.

To have a 67% chance of staying below a 1.5C global temperature rise – the best odds given by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change – the world had 420 gigatons of carbon dioxide left to emit back on January 1, 2018. Today that figure is already down to less than 350 gigatons. How dare you pretend that this can be solved with business-as-usual and some technical solutions. With today’s emissions levels, that remaining CO2 budget will be entirely gone in less than eight and a half years.

There will not be any solutions or plans presented in line with these figures today. Because these numbers are too uncomfortable. And you are still not mature enough to tell it like it is.

You are failing us. But the young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you. And if you choose to fail us I say we will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this. Right here, right now is where we draw the line. The world is waking up. And change is coming, whether you like it or not.

A Few Post Election Thoughts…

It’s been about a day since it became clear to me that Donald Trump was going to become the next President of the United States. Despite what the polls were saying, I knew there was a chance—this wasn’t a complete shock to me—but like many I truly thought Hillary would win the presidency. If you know me, you know that’s what I wanted. I believe she was truly qualified to hold our highest office. In fact, I supported her when she ran against Obama in 2008. But like so many others, I believed Donald Trump to be dangerous. I still do. And I’m sad, angry and more than a little scared that he won. That’s where I’m at right now.

But here’s also where I’m at right now. We can’t do anything about what happened. We can learn from it and we can prepare ourselves for at least four years of challenges and sadly, steps in the wrong direction. We can support, help and stand up for our fellow Americans, particularly in the face of hatred. We can make donations to the causes that we believe in. And we can comfort each other during the scary times. Because, my friends, it IS going to get scary at times.

But there’s one other thing that I plan to do. Plenty of Trump’s support came from hate groups. We really need to be honest with ourselves about that. But we also need to be honest about the fact that MOST of his support did not. In fact, many people who voted for him did so with little enthusiasm. Remember, he was one of the most unpopular candidates in history (unfortunately, so was Hillary). For many people, he really was the lesser of two evils. Personally, I don’t understand how someone can see a person who has said and done the things Trump has as a lesser evil than Hillary, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you if you do.

I have a lot of concerns regarding the state of our nation, but one of my biggest is how divided we are. I’ve seen a lot of tweets or Facebook posts over the past 24 hours telling people to unfollow them or unfriend them if they supported Trump. Well, for myself, that’s not what I want. I’m not sure how many Trump voters are following me on Twitter or have friended me on Facebook, but if you’re one of them, please don’t unfollow me. Clearly you’ve put up with all of my pro-Clinton posts over the past six months, which suggests you’re tolerant of other views. That’s a good thing. In fact, considering the state we’re in, I’d say it’s a great thing. And I need to get better at this myself.

If you voted for Trump, I will likely never agree with your politics and you probably won’t agree with mine, but I can still respect them and try to understand them. We can both strongly feel differently about something and still engage with each other, be friendly, and ultimately agree to disagree. That’s what I see missing in so much of the social media discourse on both sides, and don’t kid yourself if you’re more liberal like I am, we liberals are as bad about it as conservatives. I get that many people are angry—like I said, I am too—but that anger can’t warp us into seeing citizens who disagree with us as our enemy.

So yes, if you’re a Trump voter who didn’t vote out of hate (let’s be clear, I have zero respect for racism or sexism), but still feel like Trump better reflects your beliefs than Hillary did, don’t unfollow me and don’t be afraid to express your disagreement if I tweet something politically that you disagree with. You’re not likely to change my opinion and I realize I’m unlikely to change yours, but we can still remain friendly with each other. As Americans, we need to understand other perspectives, even if we don’t agree with them. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to work together, and it’ll always be a fight, with the side out of power angry and hateful toward the side in power. That will literally tear our country apart. If our nation has any chance of healing this divide—and I realize that if it’s even possible, it’s going to take a while—it needs to start at the personal level. And I intend to do my part.

On Robin

I’ve found it hard to process the death of Robin Williams since first hearing about it this afternoon, and I wanted to share a few thoughts on it here. Nothing formal and maybe not even coherent. Just what I’m feeling.

We’ve lost many celebrities that I’ve admired these past few years—Elmore Leonard, Harold Ramis, Lou Reed, just to name a few. I’m a huge fan of Warren Zevon and Hunter S. Thompson, both of whom died within my recent lifetime. But I’m taking this one harder than any of those.

And I think I’ve figured out why. One of my earliest memories as a child was watching Mork & Mindy on TV with my father. It’s one of the first TV shows I can clearly remember watching at night. (One of the others was The Muppet Show, and I took the loss of Jim Henson very hard as well.) As a young child, I didn’t watch much TV at night, most of the shows weren’t exactly aimed at kids, but you didn’t have to get all of the humor to find Mork funny. Williams energy and over-the-top response to every situation was pretty transcendent in its appeal—it spoke to kids and adults.

A couple years later, I remember seeing clips of Williams doing stand up on some TV show or other, and my father pointing out that he was Mork. I also remember seeing Popeye and having it explained to me that Popeye was also Mork. I think it might’ve been the first time I realized that actors existed outside their characters—that he wasn’t actually Mork, but a really funny guy who did other things as well. From that point on, I was a fan, even though I was probably too young at that time to be listening to much of his comedy.

No worries, though, since I eventually grew into it. Good Morning Vietnam, Hook, The Birdcage, Awakenings, Aladdin, Good Will Hunting and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen were all favorites of mine. But there are a few that really stand out. A few that really meant a lot at a key time in my life.

Club Paradise probably isn’t a movie of his that many people would list as a favorite, but I love it. I fell in love with reggae in junior high and seeing Robin Williams and Jimmy Cliff in the same movie—directed by Harold Ramis, no less—was just too cool. Yes, the best lines in it belong to Rick Moranis and Eugene Levy, but Williams’ banter with Peter O’Toole and the other resort guests was priceless.

I’ve actually blogged about The Fisher King here before, but it’s hands down one of my favorites of his. Possibly my very favorite. I think it’s funny and imaginative and wonderful, and also truly poignant. I think it helped me realize the psychological aspect that often accompanies loss. It may seem strange that I learned that from a Terry Gilliam movie, but hey, I was still relatively young and inexperienced with life when I saw it.

And finally, Dead Poets Society. A movie that I’ve seen at least two dozen times and still can’t watch without turning into a sobbing mess at the end. Man, I loved Professor Keating. He spoke to me in a way that no teacher of mine ever had. His lesson about seizing the day is something I try to keep in mind constantly. His comments about poetry and art fed my interests in high school and are a big reason why I do what I do today. Combine Keating’s lesson with some amazing, quotable, unforgettable lines and you have a phenomenal film. It’s shocking that this isn’t the one that earned Williams an Oscar, honestly.

Anyhow, what I’m getting at is that Robin Williams has been a source of entertainment for me throughout literally my entire life, and that’s one of the reasons why this one hits particularly hard. A friend of mine tweeted earlier that she felt like a piece of her childhood had died, and I understand what she means. I’d imagine that for many of us in our later thirties, it does feel like we lost a friend we’ve had since we were kids.

Rest in peace, Robin. I didn’t know you and can’t begin to imagine what you must have been going through in your life. But thank you for bringing some real joy to all of ours.

Kickstarting a Conversation: Why I Won’t Be Paying For Potato Salad

As everyone on the Internet surely knows, Kickstarter’s currently hosting a campaign to raise money for a guy in Ohio to make potato salad. He was asking for $10. He’s made $43,000 so far. And there are still 23 days to go.

The world is a crazy, crazy place, kids.

People do stupid things on the Internet all the time, and my thinking has typically been (probably very erroneously) that most people view the web as a place where they don’t have to think. Much like TV, it’s a source of entertainment and information that doesn’t require a lot of thought. It’s interactive, but only in the most base-level sense. That’s always been my view, and while it may be completely off the mark, it’s allowed me to create content for the web in good conscious. Because believe me, if I thought my work was truly fostering stupidity, I would stop.

But for some reason, this potato salad thing was really rubbing me the wrong way, and I couldn’t figure out why. At least, until I read this tweet.

I think that’s pretty spot-on. It’s also sad and unfortunate, and I wonder if crowdfunding will ever fully recover.

The problem is that there shouldn’t BE an ironic age when it comes to Kickstarter. When art enters an ironic age, it’s due to oversaturation. But when a business prompts irony, and Kickstarter is at its heart a business, it’s almost always due to a failure in their core mission. If people are now using Kickstarter ironically and having success with that, it’s because the public has become so bored and fed up with sincere Kickstarters that they’re now supporting projects that are in essence mocking them. It’s oversaturation, but the difference between art and business is that a business can set limits. I learned working at Tokyopop that just because you can create more and flood the shelves doesn’t mean you should because then nothing stands out. Not a day goes by that I don’t get at least one Kickstarter or other crowdfunding appeal in my Twitter or Facebook feed. Not a day. I’d imagine most of you are the same way.

I don’t know how many campaigns Kickstarter allows to run at the same time, but no matter the number, that’s a whole lot of noise. Kickstarter approves all of their projects, and yes, it benefits them to have a healthy amount, but for a while now it’s seemed that they could really do with a lot more restraint, and I think this potato salad campaign removes all doubt. Someone over there approved this thing (despite the fact that it doesn’t seem to adhere to their terms of use).

So why do I care? Why is this a problem? Because I believe crowdfunding is one of the best trends I’ve seen come along in my lifetime. In an age where costs are rising and money’s tighter than ever, it’s extremely difficult to make money from creativity. Crowdfunding has made that viable for so many people, and it would be a real loss to see it devolve into a joke.

I’m not going to speculate as to the potato salad guy’s motivations. Obviously he put at least a little effort into creating this campaign, but at the same time, his Twitter feed and this Good Morning America YouTube clip seem to suggest he’s very down to earth and genuinely surprised by it all. (He certainly doesn’t seem like some sort of smug or winking shock artist laughing his way to the bank.) He talks and tweets about wanting to do good with the money he’s raised, but hasn’t gone into too much detail about what he means by that and in pure GMA style, every question he’s asked in that clip is a soft one. Plus, who the hell creates an entire Kickstarter campaign just to create potato salad? If he’s not pulling a huge one over on everyone, then he’s one of the biggest cheapskates I’ve ever seen.

Either way, I kinda hope he chokes a little on the first bite.