Did we ever think we'd need the phrase human art to distinguish it from something else?
I've been thinking about that question a lot lately. What does it mean to make art, to experience art, and to be human in a world where the distinction is becoming increasingly difficult to see?
Here's what's happening in the studio.
ACT I: HUMAN ART
I've recently welcomed a record player back into my life.
I'm slowly rebuilding my record collection, rediscovering the pleasure of choosing an album, placing the needle on the vinyl, and sitting down to listen. Really listen.
There's something wonderful about it. The physical object, the ritual, the decision to spend time with a piece of music rather than have an algorithm choose what comes next.
And increasingly, I'm thinking about the humans who made it.
Did you know my first solo play was titled Wish You Were Here?
We now live in a world where AI-generated music sits alongside human-made recordings on streaming platforms, often without obvious distinctions. We have machines producing images, writing stories, composing songs. Sometimes we know. Sometimes we don't.
I'm not sure I have an answer. But I do know that the more automated our world becomes, the more interested I am in the experiences that remind us what it means to be human.
Which brings me to a room full of professors at Villanova University.
ACT II: REHEARSING BEING HUMAN
Recently, I joined my wonderful colleagues at PowerPlay Interactive Development for an engagement at Villanova University.
Four extraordinary actors stood onstage, bringing to life the challenges professors face when navigating difficult conversations about peer feedback. I co-facilitated the session with Karen Collins from UNH, inviting participants to explore different approaches, make choices, and consider what might happen when we change how we respond to one another.
And the room was alive.
There was laughter, discomfort, recognition, curiosity, and the possibility of doing something differently.
It was one of those experiences that reminds me why I do this work.
There is no substitute for what happens when people gather in a room, take risks together, and practice the messy, complicated business of being human.
In fact, I suspect the more sophisticated our technologies become, the more urgently we're going to need opportunities to practice our human skills.
Listening. Disagreeing. Giving and receiving feedback. Navigating conflict. Responding with curiosity rather than defensiveness.
These aren't soft skills. They're essential ones.
And if your organization is looking for ways to help people be better at being human, I have programs for that.
Through Make Create More, I design and facilitate participatory experiences that allow people to rehearse difficult conversations, explore complex systems, and develop new ways of working together.
If that sounds like something your team, institution, or community needs, click that human button above!
ACT III: GOOD LAZY WOMAN GETS UP ON HER FEET
I had intended to write a new play in October. Reader, I did not write a new play in October.
There were simply too many other things happening. Exciting developments, growing business commitments, new collaborations, and places I needed to be.
So, rather than presenting actors reading a new script, I made a different choice.
To celebrate ten years of She Will Lead and Good Lazy Woman, I created a facilitated performance exploring women, ambition, leadership, and the possibility of a woman becoming President of the United States.
Supported by the wonderful actor Monique Peaslee Foote, we returned to New Hampshire Theatre Project for She Will Lead: Ten Years Later.
It was a particular joy to have Jordan Formichelli, who originated the role of Claire, and Genevieve Rachel, who originally commissioned the piece, in the room. And then something lovely happened. Brave audience members got up onstage. They answered my questions. They offered their experiences, hopes, frustrations, and ideas. They became part of the performance.
Monique doing her magic, getting text thirty minutes before performing!!!!
The event wasn't simply about women and ambition. It was a room of people actively exploring those questions together. And I remembered just how much I love this particular kind of performance.
There will be a new play in 2028. I'm excited about that. But in the meantime, I have 75 minutes of participatory entertainment, and I want to take it on the road.
As we move toward another presidential election, I want to gather people to talk about women, leadership, ambition, and what the best possible future could look like.
And I don't need a traditional theatre to do it. It could be your living room. Your office. Your local community center. A theatre, a library, a gathering of friends, or an organization that wants to make room for a meaningful conversation.
If you can bring people together, I can bring the performance.
I'm looking for hosts, partners, venues, and adventurous audiences who want to make this happen.
Have you got a room? Hit reply. Let's make some theatre together.
Perhaps that's what all three of these stories have in common.
The pleasure of listening to something someone made. The magic of four actors helping a room full of people imagine different ways to behave. The courage of an audience member stepping onto a stage to share what they think.
Human art isn't just about what we make.
It's about what becomes possible between us when we make it, share it, and experience it together.
And right now, I think I need more of that. What about you?
