“Diane Paulus flanked by her Rabbis, backstage at 2nd Stage, opening night, Invisible Thread.”

Musicals are said to be about many things. They’re about transitions, is one of my favorites. They’re about the music (of course), about the lyrics (when they’re good, which is rare) or about the story (every time). But for me, they’re about collaboration, and that’s the reason Diane Paulus is at the top of everyone’s list to work with, and always at the top of mine. Like any great artist, she is able to take her ego out of any artistic endeavor and deploy a laser-focus on the truth of the story. She is uncompromising in that, but she is a partner in the journey to the heart’s center. Her ability and willingness to turn to a group of creatives for their input and feedback, collect the data, and to then witness her transform it into her specific vision is a process as satisfying as any I’ve had in the theatre. She used to refer to me and Dick by saying “I want to consult with the Rabbis.” I loved that.

Matt Gould and Griffin Matthews wrote a beautiful show. I didn’t have my hands in this one like I had on Motown – every word and every note was theirs. My job was to guide them to find the story they wanted to tell, if I could, and to focus on letting it emerge. Dick and I had slightly different roles on this project, his was more comprehensive; but our collaboration was just as fruitful and gratifying as it had been before. And that cast!

Nicolette Robinson singing her huge, surprising note in the finale to act one, and the audience screaming for her; the calm, quiet strength of Tyrone Davis, Jr. as his Ugandan teenager character acknowledges the humanity in a gay mentor; the pure, grounded joy of Jamar Williams; Kristolyn Lloyd’s mastery over an audience; the spellbinding power of Michael Luyowe’s voice, whether singing or speaking; and just about every moment Adeola Role was on stage. These were moments of transcendent beauty that I will carry with me always. When Jeremy Pope stood in for Griffin Matthews as Griffin, Dick and I turned to each other in the seats at 2nd Stage Theater and said to each other at the same time, “That’s a star.” Among many calls we got wrong, that was one we got right.