For Paul Schwartz, putting on a professional-quality production is profoundly important. It’s just not nearly as important as the people with whom you're doing it. The performance, he says, should be 20% of a director’s focus. The people should be 80%. And if that’s your approach, not only will you have a stellar production, but you will give people a taste of the beloved community. This will change their lives and inspire them to help change the world.
I heard about Paul from a subscriber who had sung in his choir, A Voice for Good – a Utah non-profit that has blended hundreds of voices every year in thrilling performances of Christian music to capacity crowds. The choir member told me that Paul says, “Our secret was remembering that the people we were trying to impact weren’t just the audience of the final production, but first and foremost the choir members themselves, and then structuring the experience accordingly."
With that introduction, of course I had to interview Paul about how he structures the experience in order to maximize the impact for good on the performer. He was happy to share a bunch of tips. And even happier to share his why. This week, I’m writing about his why. Next week, I’ll send his tips.
When he talks about beloved community, Paul uses the language of his own faith tradition and calls it “Zion.” A member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he references a favourite scripture (Moses 7:18) about a city that achieved a Zion state, “because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them.” Musical theatre and choirs are so mighty, he says, because they have one of those elements of Zion or beloved community built in – by coming together to blend their voices and tell a shared story, participants develop a unity of mind and heart. He believes that’s why theatre tends to create an instant feeling of family. And it becomes life changing when it includes the other two elements: righteousness (or reverence for self, others and God) and equality.
Although he’s currently known for his massive, non-profit choir, one of Paul’s favourite things to do is help put on plays at several local elementary schools. He has had a passion for musical theatre for as long as he has been able to walk and sing. He would build little sets in his basement (utilizing the tree from the living room that he was not supposed to touch) and create productions inspired by scripture stories and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. Rogers’ “Windstorm in Bubbleland” opera, with its message that people are always more important than things, was especially meaningful to him, to the point that he would later produce a version with his younger siblings.
In elementary school, he had an extraordinary mentor in his 6th Grade teacher, Mrs.Toni Cook, who used music, art, and performance as a tool for building capacity, belonging and character. Every year, she and Mrs. Davis, the other 6th Grade teacher, would inspire the Sixth Graders to write their own lyrics for existing music and skillfully pull together a play of their own creation, in which every part was important. He got invited to help with set design and wound up returning to help with the production every year until he graduated from high school. Then there was the entire school musical – led by a teacher whose theatre background allowed her to achieve artistic excellence while also finding ways to include as many kids as possible, and in meaningful, not just ornamental ways. Inspired by her approach, Paul began helping with sets and production for these school-wide musicals as well.
His experience at junior high changed when the focus shifted away from building students and more towards advancing the school’s theatrical reputation by achieving the director’s artistic vision at all costs. There was more anxiety and less fun. More troubling was the pressure that he and his schoolmates started feeling to act onstage in a manner that was at odds with their values, especially when that pressure was coming from adults who shared their faith.
In high school, the emphasis on production values over student needs just seemed to get more pronounced. The show was everything, and the people in it started to be treated like props. They had to prioritize rehearsals, however late they went, over everything else, even when they were falling behind in other classes. Ensemble roles became less meaningful. Your status depended on landing a lead role, and you had to take choir as well (which was also a huge life commitment), or you wouldn’t be seriously considered.
Late in the fall of his senior year, he wound up in two productions, at the same time: A Christmas Carol at the school, and Savior of the World at the Conference Center Theater of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint. He was racing back and forth between rehearsals and the contrast was striking. If people were late to rehearsal at school or did something wrong, they got reprimanded or yelled at. If Paul was late to the church rehearsal, he got a phone call, expressing love and checking to make sure he was okay. .
At the school, directors gave “notes” in front of the entire cast, focusing exclusively on what the actors needed to fix. At the church show, they gave the notes all together about what people were doing well. When something needed to be fixed, a director would take that participant aside and tell them privately. And even then, they’d do it in a way that made the recipient feel complimented rather than criticized, while still helping them grow.
In typical theater the leads often have their own dressing rooms or other perks. At the church show, they didn’t even use the word “leads”; they called them “speaking roles.” They were all treated as equals; they dressed together and pretty much everyone was part of the angel ensemble – which got the most stage time by far – when they weren’t acting in another role.
Overall, theatre became so discouraging in both junior and senior high that Paul all but gave it up. He took Foods (because it was taught by life-changing teachers who focused on their students) instead of Drama. A Christmas Carol was the only play he did in high school. But the church show was such a positive experience that it’s become a staple part of his family’s Christmas celebrations; with a family member participating in the production every year since. And he learned powerful principles of leadership that apply to every situation involving teams of people working together. Directing and producing are his favourite places to apply them.
“People,” he says, “are not the means to an end. They are both the means and the end.” They aren’t the tools you use to put on an awe-inspiring production. They are the reason you do the production in the first place, and treating them that way empowers them to produce a show that inspires awe. The show matters, but it’s secondary. The people are always primary. “In fact, the audition experience alone should be such that people are uplifted and empowered regardless of if they are ultimately cast in the show or not.” And the rehearsal experience should be so building that, if the show wound up being cancelled at the last minute, all the time and effort you spent together would still be worth it.
Paul had the opportunity to use that litmus test personally in 2020. His organization, A Voice for Good, was preparing to put on their largest production ever, with over 100 participants involved and brand-new compositions and arrangements by the conductors. Then COVID-19 shut it all down, just two days before their first scheduled performance. But it was okay. The experience they’d had preparing together had been amazing. And it had strengthened them for the difficulties they were now facing with the isolation and uncertainties that accompanied the pandemic.
Paul credits the focus on people for the opportunities he and his leadership team have had to “bless participants in ways unrelated to the production itself, such as during mental health struggles, and to be richly blessed ourselves in ways far more lasting than simply putting on short-term productions.” What matters is that taste of “Zion” that happens when you put people first. “Performance is a perk. The point is we are all growing and ministering together.”
Paul is always delighted to connect with like minds. You can reach him at showmaker0@gmail.com or paulschwartz@ldspma.org.
Click to read Part II: The Schwartz Recipe for Fostering Beloved Community.
Thanks for your support for Summit Stages! If you liked this story, please consider sending it on to a friend.
If you are not already subscribed to my weekly newsletter, I'd be delighted if you'd do so here.
And a deeply, heartfelt thanks to those who've contributed to my tip jar Your support is greatly appreciated!
See you next week!
Love this bit: “People,” he says, “are not the means to an end. They are both the means and the end.” They aren’t the tools you use to put on an awe-inspiring production. They are the reason you do the production in the first place, and treating them that way empowers them to produce a show that inspires awe. The show matters, but it’s secondary. The people are always primary.