Fundraising is Tacky

By Theater 150 Co-Artistic Director

Chris Nottoli

On May 15^th in Libbey Bowl, I’m going to marry Deb Norton, the coolest, smartest, most talented person I’ve ever met. There might be 500 to 1000 people witnessing the ceremony. Why? Because I’m ego-maniacal braggart? Hardly. As you’ll see in the musical, that is the ceremony, the last thing I wanted was to be married, much less involved in some culturally mandated, pair-bonding ritual.  Was it because Deb’s dad has a shotgun to my back? Nope. Well, I hope he doesn’t…

I’m doing it this way because getting married any other way seemed downright alien. One man’s normal is another man’s nutty, I suppose. Turns out, I have what’s been called an ‘artistic temperament.’ Imagine the artistic brain like a pitch-back; that elastic thing you throw a baseball against and it lobs the ball right back to you. You throw a baseball at an artist, and what comes back to you is a mechanical trout singing a song about redemption. Thanks to my artistic temperament, I’ve been fired from almost every ‘straight’ job I’ve ever had because when the boss asked for customer service metrics, she usually didn’t want a poem about the ‘river-ness’ of communication. When the word “wedding” came at us, what pitched back was a full-length musical with krumping Jell-O, kale-loving cheerleaders, and special appearances by Greek gods.

Some folks might think that using a wedding as a fundraiser, plastering logos of sponsors, NASCAR-style, all over the bride, groom, wedding party, food and everything else and charging a ‘donation’ to come see two people get married is inappropriate, crass, profane, or at the very least…tacky. How they got ‘singing trout’ out of this pretty serious thing called ‘wedding’ is beyond me. So let me try to explain my brain.

I believe in transparency. I believe you are savvy enough to know that the arts are necessary – they make our lives better– and, they aren’t free.  I’d like you to believe that we aren’t going to wreck your experience of a play by putting a Coke in Hamlet’s hand, having Willy Loman hawk adult diapers or using Stanley Kowalski to sell Prozac. But, when it’s time to fundraise we’re not going to pretend we’re not trying to raise money. And, of course, we’re going to make it fun.

The conceit of this particular fundraiser, is that two folks are donating their wedding to support theater by performing a musical about trying to get married. For those who can’t imagine how this event will also contain the sacredness of marriage, try this: Sit down with your partner and write a play about how much you love them, and why you should commit your lives to one another. Lay bare and make manifest all the reasons you’re a better person for being with them by singing to them, dancing with them and listening to why they like you so much. Mine your fears, worries and secrets for the key to the bond that keeps you together in the face of overwhelming odds that you won’t stay together. It will deepen your relationship profoundly. That was our journey in the creation of this ritual.

Our relationship began at, was hot-dipped and pressure-tested by, and is now contained within Theater 150. There is no difference between us at this point: We are the theater and it is us. Our fortunes are tied together.

A wedding is a community event that binds a couple and bonds the witnesses to that union and, to each other. We want you to know the names of the donors and the businesses forging community through art. While watching this wedding play, don’t feel bad when we remind you (via a sponsor’s logo) that they sacrificed a lot or a little for your enjoyment. Know that they did it out of love. It’s their gift to you and your community. We want you to thank them on the street when you see them. We want you to stand up and say, “Count me in.”

Perhaps one man’s tacky is another man’s artifice-free, humorous gateway to a better future for you and yours and ours.

So come on down and watch this story of goofy, transparent and soaring devotion. If I can remember all my lines and hit all my high notes, you’ll enjoy yourself knowing you are responsible for making sure your town has a theater that will continue to do innovative, stirring and sometimes calculatedly-inappropriate work.