I spent this past summer roasting under the Arizona sun, granted no respite to return home to the cooler, albeit grossly humid, refuges of Philadelphia. I was stuck in Phoenix the entire time, coping with excessive heat, excessive political controversy and an excessive case of miss-my-little-sister-itis.
I miss Philly and my home back East for a lot of reasons — my family’s there, most of my buddies from high school are still in the area, and authentically good cheese steaks really can’t be found anywhere outside the City of Brotherly Love.
But I miss Philly because of what it is — a city, vibrant and colorful, with its own identity, culture and effervescent eccentricities. I miss the amazing historical narrative that falls onto every cobbled step on the ancient Philly streets — from the iconic crack in the Liberty Bell to the lesser-known one that unmistakably marks Ben Franklin’s marble headstone.
Phoenix, with its vacant lots, sprawl and empty urban history, is anything but what most would typically consider a “big city.” There’s not much distinguishing it — culturally, artistically, or otherwise — from any other city in America.
But something happened this summer that gave me hope for Phoenix’s future growth as a city. Its name is Motion Theatre Company.
MTC is a group of eight college students (some Sun Devils, most not) that for the past two summers has performed contemporary theatre onboard the light rail. In an Improv Everywhere style, these lovers of art try to ambush unsuspecting light rail riders by hopping into a car, piano in tow, and singing show tunes such as “Seasons of Love” from Rent and “Skid Row” from Little Shop of Horrors before hopping off and doing it all over again on a different train.
This might seem like an annoying concept. As a Downtown student who rides the light rail to go to Tempe and back, the last thing I want is to be bothered when I’m busy reading and ignoring everyone else sharing in my commute. Most riders, if their typically sour disposition is any indication, probably feel the same way.
But after witnessing MTC strike a series of light rail cars one summer evening, I was stunned at the positive feedback from most riders. Many took pictures and video of the performances, others joined in singing, and a few skipped their stops just to hear another song or two. Not everyone reacted this favorably, but for the most part people were genuinely moved out of their apathetic stupor and, through a mutual appreciation of art, grew closer to their community, their fellow commuters and to Phoenix.
I’m not here to profile MTC — others have done so already. But MTC reminded me of what makes a city really move — people, doing extraordinary things in extraordinary ways. It doesn’t really matter what buildings, parks or restaurants populate a city. What matters are the people working to make a community vibrant, whether it’s a group of theatre fans ambushing people on public transit or a guy selling hot dogs on the corner.
MTC’s members went back to college this fall, and with many calling an out-of-state school home, the group has disassembled — for now. I hope they return to give their services again to otherwise drab rides along the light rail, but more than that I’m hoping to find other people in unsuspecting places breathing life and motion into Phoenix.
Reach Dustin at dustin.volz@asu.edu.
