Constellations Director's Notes

Director's Note

When I was around seven years old, I learned that before meeting my father, my mom had dated a man from a very wealthy family. Let’s just say you’ve probably eaten this family’s ketchup. As a naïve little girl, I lamented to my mother, “Ah man mom, if you had stayed with him instead of dad I would have a horse right now!” Little did I know my mother’s experience with that guy would lead her to one day recommend to my older self to have “mad money” on hand, so I can independently grab a cab if I ever need to leave a date. But at that moment, she simply looked at me and gently said something like, “No honey, you wouldn’t have a horse.” Because duh! I wouldn’t have even existed. And what a brat to disrespect my father so. He passed away in 2011, of a glioblastoma. My mother would follow a little while after in 2018, due to complications with Parkinson's Disease. I miss them. They were really great parents and there is no way I’d be where I am right now without them. Literally! I am in awe when I reflect on the infinite number of random occurrences that happened in order to bring my parents together (including that my dad went on a date with my aunt first! Which is how he got introduced to my mom…but that’s a tale for another time).

Living in Nick Payne’s Constellations for these last several months has been a true gift, inviting moments of reflection like the above, inspired by possibilities within quantum theory and infinity. I hope it brings the same gift to you. A faith we are a part of something much larger than ourselves. Have no fear if you struggle to wrap your brain around physics of this nature (you won’t be alone!). Luckily we are in excellent hands with the gifted playwright, Nick Payne, who translates this science into art, into story, into a form that invites a moving experience of the possibilities behind the magic of connection.

And if you’ll allow me one more reflection of my mother - which I promise is relevant. Sitting at the kitchen table one night, I asked my mom what I thought was a simple question. I said, “Mom, when does space end?” While seated at the table my mom put her hand at the edge of the table while she said, “see how the table ends here?” “Uh huh,” I nodded. And with a simple gesture she lifted her hand up, off and away and said, “Well space doesn’t.”

- Vanessa Stalling, Director of Constellations