Catalyst. Part Two: The Launch Event

"True art is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist." - Albert Einstein

What a privilege to witness art springing forth from this irresistible urge.

I don't think anyone who attended Catalyst's inaugural "Launch" event last weekend can deny that they bore witness to true art.

If you have never observed something like this, I will do my best to describe it, though I am not sure my words will do it justice.

Art in its truest form begs to be understood. It succeeds.

Art in its truest form does not discriminate against its audience. It transcends all barriers.

Art in its truest form does not strive for perfection. It is too human. 

Art in its truest form heals. It does not need to know what ails you.

Art is its truest form is not about the product. It is about the message.

Art in its truest form finds a way. It exists unconditionally.

The Launch three.point.oh event did so much more than entertain for two acts. It did more than put on a show. It was true art. 

Catalyst: Spark A Chain Reaction was created with the incredible and selfless purpose of providing support to those battling illness, creating art, and inspiring artists and their communities. 

"Ellie Sabry, founder of Catalyst, has been dancing for over twenty years. Ellie’s biggest inspiration is her first dance teacher, Mrs. Joyce, who passed away after a long battle with cancer. After witnessing her students’ similar loss of teacher Ana Falley, who struggled with cancer for a year, Ellie realized that it is in the hands of the community to share the legacy of these great individuals through art. Catalyst is committed to benefiting artists in need." Their mission statement further explains that they are "a non-profit organization benefiting individuals with terminal illnesses and other life altering debilitations via annual benefit concerts. In between concerts, Catalyst plans to stay active hosting other various fundraisers for those in need."

Property of Catalyst: Spark A Chain Reaction.

The Launch event had been delayed for over a year after Ellie was involved in a horrific car accident that required a lengthy recovery. Throughout her own time of need, Ellie's desire and determination to launch Catalyst only increased. The line up for the evening included extraordinary artists of all kinds, many who have battled and overcome obstacles themselves.

Everyone arrived at the Launch expecting something special. The night was primed to be memorable and moving. The audience was filled with family members, friends, and supporters of Ellie, the performers, and the cause that Catalyst is invested in. 

The event was held in one of Orange County School of the Arts' (OCSA) performance spaces, the Margaret A. Webb Theater, which was added after I graduated. I felt overwhelming nostalgia coming back to my old high school, the one that I was forced (by my body) to leave when I got sick. There were also those confusing feelings of uncertainty you get when something that used to be so familiar now feels foreign. You start to question if you ever knew it as well as you once thought you did. You can't help but feel like too much time has passed when there are completely new buildings that now belong to your old campus and all the faces adorning the posters on the walls are unfamiliar and look so young. 

This building is unique, as most OCSA buildings are. It was converted from bank offices and boasts a large marble entry way with high ceilings and elevators. Underground, the old bank vault has been turned into "The Vault V.I.P. Lounge", which was used for a silent auction space for the event. (Side note: OCSA's main school building is also an old bank. It has seven stories, a basement, and when I was there, the main office was in the old vault, still complete with its giant metal door). The V.I.P. Lounge at the theater maintained its original vault door, too. I was smitten.

Next to the Vault there is a cabaret space. Emmy, a local singer/songwriter, was performing at the piano. Her strong and soothing style worked perfectly for the event. 

Back in the main theater, an audience full of supporters waited anxiously for the show to start. After looking over the program, it was easy to see that there would be a variety of pieces, but I'm not sure that any of us knew exactly what to expect.

When the curtain opened, there were gasps and a collective "aww". There was not a cast of dancers before us. There was not even one dancer. Instead, there was a tiny girl in a big pink dress standing alone in the center of the stage. She smiled the most beautiful smile to the audience as she held her microphone close.

I started crying before anything even happened.

I put myself in her shoes and knew how special she must feel up there on that stage, all dressed up and starting a show all on her own. I couldn't help but feel nervous for her. She immediately pushed my nerves away as she sang along confidently to the song "Fill A Heart". Her small but mighty voice filled the theater. As cliche as it sounds, she was like an angel. Little did any of us know, we really were looking at an angel. Olivia Girgis, at four years old, has already survived two open heart surgeries.

I can't even write about this precious little girl without crying. She sang her heart out. The same heart that has already endured so much is still fierce enough to stand alone on a stage singing the words "we can change the outcome...we can make the world better if we come together." She sang with more courage than someone fully grown and she delivered a message beyond her years. And though life has asked her to understand too much too soon, still she twirled with the innocence and joy of any four year old. She grabbed tightly to her beautiful pink dress and she twirled.

After Olivia's performance, dances began coming to life.

I can't possibly break down the entire show, so I will instead highlight some pieces and moments that spoke to me and left their marks on my heart. I'll also continue to show you some terrible iPhone photos of beautiful artists. My apologies for the poor quality. It doesn't do any of it justice.

Chanelle Glen.

I am fascinated by things that I cannot do. Tap qualifies as one of those things. I believe the best tappers are born that way. Not that they haven't been trained and worked incredibly hard, but there is just something in their bodies that allows them to communicate rhythm so perfectly and compellingly through their feet.

My former choreographer's son (Dante Lara) performed
and choreographed a tap piece that coursed through the audience. 

Launch three.point.oh brought together all types of artists. A charming, finely sculpted trainer and body builder (who just happens to be a t-6 paraplegic in a wheelchair) did a fitness demonstration and left no question that disability was the theme of the night. 

Bryan Williams ("The Motivator").

Kaitlyn Jenkins, series lead on ABC Family's "Bunheads" and OCSA alumna, came out to support Catalyst and dedicated a beautifully moving piece to anyone who has lost someone they love.

Kaitlyn Jenkins.

Throughout the night I tried to capture images that represented "launch".

Launch: Kaitlyn Jenkins.

Launch: Instant Noodles Crew

Launch: Sara Vincent and Philip Lu.

Launch: Chad van Ramshorst with The Movement Initiative.

In our early teen years, Chad van Ramshorst was like a brother to me. We carpooled to OCSA together every day for three years. He is witty, upbeat, bright, and has been blessed with remarkable talent as a dancer. After a severe leg injury in elementary school, Chad was told he would never dance again. Fortunately, that prediction proved false. Chad took the same path as Ellie, moving on from OCSA’s dance department to Chapman’s and making a name for himself along the way. After graduation, Chad married Lindsey, an equally gifted dancer he met at Chapman. The two of them spent the last year living and dancing in New York City. Being able to reconnect with Chad and his family at the concert and to get to watch him dance again was a highlight of my night. I was in awe of Chad’s choreography and performance. It was so pure and conveyed a prestige and maturity that no doubt developed while working with artists in the hub of creativity that is New York City. 

Chad van Ramshorst and The Movement Initiative.

Another artist who absolutely blew me away was Michael Montgomery. Honestly, his performance was probably the most stunning work of live dance I have seen in recent memory. It overflowed with strength and intention, and yet every nuanced movement was delivered organically. He was a force on that stage and we were all waiting on the edge of our seats to be moved by him.

Michael was also an OCSA student and a dear friend of mine who actually started his time at OCSA in the Musical Theater program. Michael was clearly one of the stars of our grade, which explains why we were all baffled when he decided to switch to the Commercial Dance conservatory at the start of high school (OCSA begins in seventh grade). We couldn't understand why he would want to start at the bottom of another department when he had a bright future ahead of him in musical theater.

I hadn't seen Michael in almost ten years and because he doesn't have social media, I was completely unaware of what he had been up to recently. Well, he has studied in the Alvin Ailey School certificate program and is currently living in San Francisco and performing as a member of the Alonzo King LINES Ballet. Also, Dance Magazine just named him in the 2013 "25 to Watch". Michael, I am so proud of you for deciding to pursue your passion almost a decade ago. The world is blessed to have your talent as a dancer and I am blessed to consider you a friend.

Michael Montgomery.

What happened next in the show could be considered a production manager's nightmare. Instead, I will forever consider it a metaphor from God. It may be one of those things that you just had to be there for, but I will share it to the best of my ability.

During the first part of the second to last number, four amazingly talented tap dancers performed a tap masterpiece. They were justifiably exhausted when they finished and accepted the audience's congratulatory applause. As they headed for the wings, there was a momentary lull. I heard one of the tappers yell "c'mon baby" to the other side of the stage as a man emerged, dressed impeccably in a navy suit and tap shoes. The man had a mighty presence. He was no youngster. He carried years of experience that could be felt coursing through him as a gospel song started playing.

He began to tap, slow and steady. His taps, though powerful, were soft and graceful, echoing the praise music that filled the air.

What began humbly in the corner of the stage soon gained momentum. He moved confidently across the stage, performing the steps that seemed to be such a natural part of his body that he could do them in his sleep. He gravitated seamlessly back and forth between swinging rhythms of the feet and punctuated movements, using his entire body to perform. While his showmanship could be felt by us all, it actually seemed more like he was performing for himself and his Creator.

Suddenly, things took a turn. One moment he was jumping into the air and the next he had fallen to his knees in the center of the stage. At first it appeared to be a part of the choreography. He doubled over himself, forehead to the ground. As the music swelled with lyrics of praise, the microphones picked up his similar words. The seconds ticked on and on and the audience started to get nervous. His time on the ground seemed too long to be intentional. Everyone began shifting in their seats, wondering if he was alright or if this was indeed planned.

I could see the other performers growing restless in the wings. It appeared that they were just as confused and concerned as the audience. Finally, one of the boys from the last tap piece emerged. After almost a minute on the ground, the older man slowly began to rise. He was still bent over and clearly struggling. The audience buzzed with whispers and sounds of crying.

What started to happen next was almost primal in its nature. It was raw. It was heart wrenching. It was incredible.

The younger tapper started improvising to the music, but he was not trying to fill time or even entertain the audience. He was trying to get the older tapper to follow his lead. Trying to encourage him to move.   Begging him to move. Please...move. Slowly, the other tappers emerged from the wings. They, too, were moving their feet in a way that beckoned his response. The sound of their taps pleaded for his to join their chorus.

We were all in the midst of a monumental experience. The gospel music continued to build as the tappers rallied around their injured companion. Suddenly, as if God himself had reached down and reignited the man's spirit, he began to dance. He did not dance as if he were hurt. He did not dance with timidity. He danced wholly. He danced with everything in him. He danced as though it was his first and his last dance. 

This photo and experience embody such a powerful message, one that I know Catalyst sought to convey and was able to do in such an unexpected and divine way. Our passions are a part of us. They cannot be separated from us. Look at this man. When we are weak and broken, we will rise again. Look at the dancers standing behind him. When we are drained and exhausted, we will still find a way to support one another. When we need it the most, our spirit will dance or others will dance for us. 

After they finished, Ellie emerged from the wings and wrapped him in an emotional embrace. 

Her solo was set to begin, but instead she took a moment to speak candidly through her tears. She talked about how perfect she wanted the night to be and how, as can be expected, every little thing that wasn't going right had caused stress leading up to the show. But as soon as the show started, like everyone else there, she realized that the night did not need to be "perfect" to achieve its purpose. In fact, there is not an imperfection imaginable that could have stood in the way. 

Ellie disappeared to the wings and reappeared to take the stage for the final number. The entire audience was charged with emotion and the tears flowed throughout. She began with her foot wrapped in a bandage and used a walker, much in the same way she did after her accident when she was not allowed to dance.

The bandage soon unraveled and Ellie commanded the stage. Her body performed with the strength, grace, and gratitude of a woman who had been through hell and back. Finally, she was telling her body what to do instead of it telling her what she could not do.

Her feet, shattered, reconstructed, and once her biggest obstacle, were again wholly a part of her as she danced. And when she danced, her journey was evident, not because of the scars but because of her spirit. Her art now bears the marks of a survivor. These marks are a gift that all survivors carry with them; the gift of deeper meaning and purpose.

The audience stood for Ellie, for the cast, and for the cause. As the final curtain closed I caught one last glimpse of Ellie's feet and whispered, "God bless those beautiful feet." I am certain that He has and He will. 

After the show, the lobby felt like a celebration. There was palpable joy and inspiration within everyone who got to be a part of this experience. 

I embraced Ellie and congratulated her on an achievement beyond words. She did everything she set out to do and more. She brought together a community. She created support for artists facing life threatening illness. She built upon the legacy of those taken from us too soon. She infused inspiration and gratitude on a massive level.

She created true art. 

I am blessed to know these amazing artists and to call them my inspiration and my friends.

Kristina Marquez. Michael Montgomery. Katie Spencer (me). Ellie Sabry.
All former OCSA students.

Please check out Catalyst: Spark A Chain Reaction on their website and find them on Facebook and Instagram. Do not miss an opportunity to follow and be a part of this organization as they grow. Proceeds from the Launch event went to benefit the medical costs of two specific artists with life threatening illness.