I met Jason Marquette while performing on the 1st National touring company of Broadway's 42nd Street back in 2003. We were in Florida, I don't remember what city we were in, although Jason might be able to recall. It was a Tuesday night, the usual 1st show in an 8-show week, and opening night in a new city. After a long and, let's say rough travel Monday (I was joining this tour from the National touring company of Broadway's SWING!....very much another story), and a full day of rehearsal on that Tuesday, I had come to the theatre to see the show that night and get a little taste of what backstage was going to look like. With 17 (I think) production dance numbers in the show, and 32 (I think) ensemble dancers onstage throughout the show, the backstage area looked like a combination between a monopoly and a twister board, and as the show played on, like a combination between a beehive and a game of Tetris. By that I mean, it was a scene of utter, yet controlled, musical theatre chaos.
When a show is 'loaded in' to a theatre, obviously, the pieces of the show (sets, costumes, props, special lighting, etc) are taken off of the trucks and brought into the theatre to be unloaded and pre-set for the show. With such a large ensemble of dancers, you can imagine the number of costumes, and thus costume-racks needed to house and travel those costumes. Said racks at this theatre, as I remember, were set up in a maze like configuration in a large room off the loading dock. It was here amongst the costume racks, on my walk through of the backstage area before the show, where I heard Jason dance for the 1st time.
With complete transparency, at this point I was going through the 'cocky' phase of my career. I knew that I could dance, and had become a little 'elitist,' let's say, about tap dancing in general. Looking back on it now (smacks forehead) how young and dumb I was at the time. After taking a quick pause to listen (he was working out his 'pop-eye' combination at the time), I followed the sound of his taps through the little maze of costume racks to a little square of space by the wall where Jason was warming up. I took another pause to watch what I had caught my ear. As I mentioned earlier, I knew I was good. But he was better, a lot better. Which I can honestly say excited me. I was also going through an explosion of growth in my ability at the time, and I knew instantly that this was a guy that I wanted to learn from; that I wanted to really know, and become close with. As it turns out, over the years I've learned so so much than just tap dance steps and technique from Jason, and he has become one of the most influential friendships and mentors I've ever had. More on that in Part. 2...
During the almost year that we spent on tour together, Jason and I shared the laughs and tears of brotherhood both on and off the stage. Our 'tracks,' intersected several times in the show, and performing together was something we came to enjoy very much because of our mutual commitment and love for the work. In fact, when teaching together we often recall for our students a very funny story in which I trip and do a complete forward roll causing everyone onstage, including the thief (who was supposed to be dead at the time), to snicker uncontrollably. In our down time we played a lot of pool, perhaps most famously at the bar just across the street from the theatre in San Francisco, and had countless deep conversations about love and life over a Fat Tire.
The entertainment industry is one of the notorious industries for jobs that take you on the road, very commonly for long periods of time. Your cast mates become your family. Fast friendships and 'showmances' develop quickly, and often dissipate just as quickly when the gig ends. I say this not to discredit in any way the intensity, lasting lessons, and cherished memories that come from these 'short-term' relationships. The contrary, in my experience, these relationships have had a more profound effect on my life than many of the more traditional 'long-term' ones.
Little did I, and I think he, know it at the time, but on this particular gig, in all it's glorious rollercoaster of learning (lets just say), I had found a brother, my first 'bromance' if you will. And little did I, and I think he, know at the time that our meeting would so greatly alter the paths and decisions that we would later make as artists, educators, entrepreneurs, and even deeper than that, as human beings.