As The Catastrophic Theatre’s new board president, I’m writing to share why I’ll be making a gift to Catastrophic this Giving Tuesday and to explain why it will make such a difference if you join me and make a gift of your own.
The Catastrophic Theatre brings Houston together for some of the most profound, absurd, provocative, and powerful works you will ever have the great good fortune to experience. The artists who inhabit our plays push and pull and rage and whisper. Sometimes, they plunge the audience into the deep end of a pool filled with unmitigated joy and delight. Other times, they beckon to audiences, leading them down dark hallways with no guarantee of what–if anything–is behind the door at the end.
And we follow.
We are challenged, we are connected, and the air burns and the alchemy happens and we are changed.
Catastrophic is an ensemble theatre company deeply rooted in Houston with the throttle jammed wide open and no governor on the engine. We’d rather ask a question than answer it. If you ask us what our play means, we’ll ask how it made you feel, because how you feel is always the right answer.
Some people aren’t ready for the risk Catastrophic presents. Other well-known financial institutions and industrial behemoths aren’t lining up to underwrite our season. They’re playing it safe elsewhere, and that’s ok, because we don’t need everyone’s support.
But we do need yours.
You’re getting this letter because you believe the experience Catastrophic creates is worth the risk. Help us keep it alive with a donation. Your financial support allows us to pay artists, turn the lights on, and remain committed to our pay-what-you-can ticket policy.
Art matters. It breaks us and makes us, and we deserve to be immersed in it. Come join us, drink deep, and remember how it feels to feel. I’ll see you in the audience soon. Thank you, as ever, for your support.
PS – Here’s one reason I really need your donation today. Even as the board president, I rely on our pay-what-you-can ticket policy. I usually buy an expensive ticket for opening night, or a season subscription, but sometimes, that’s a stretch. Instead, I buy a bunch of $10 tickets and invite people who’ve never been, or who say they aren’t ‘theatre people,’ or who are students or artists or recently divorced or unemployed. That’s what our policy is there for, and that’s how we grow our audience. When you can’t pay, come anyway. And if you can pay more, make a donation today and help us keep the doors open for everyone.