Celebrating ‘Then She Fell’
The NoPro staff pays tribute to a beloved production
The ongoing global pandemic has not been kind to the theatre world as a whole.
Beloved performers have passed away because of the disease. Productions that have been long standing pillars of theatre have had their runs ended.
So far our immersive corner of the theatre world has been spared the worst of the consequences of the crisis here in America. Productions have been delayed or paused, but nothing had closed its doors. Until yesterday.
Yesterday New York’s Third Rail Projects announced the end of Then She Fell, the seminal immersive production which inspired countless fans and creators, after seven and a half years and 4,444 performances.
In the press release announcing the end of the show Zach Morris, Tom Pearson and Jennine Willett, the co-directors of Then She Fell and of Third Rail Projects, made this joint statement:
“Like so many other businesses at this time, we are suffering the results of the pandemic shutdown, and we found ourselves unable to continue to pay the associated costs of holding a show in indefinite limbo without foreseeable income from ticket sales. Not wishing to compromise the design of the show or risk anyone’s health, we have made the difficult decision to end this amazing run at 4,444 performances. We hope someday there will be another way to share Then She Fell again with audiences. We recognize the impact of this decision is great and affects many: the directors, staff, the many performers, designers, vendors, and partners, our audiences, and the culture of immersive theater at large.”
Few productions have shaped the work we do here at No Proscenium in the way Then She Fell has. We asked our staff and correspondents to share their thoughts at this historic moment.
It can be hyperbole to say that a show changed your life, but in my case it’s true.
When I left Kingsland Ward the night of October 22, 2013, my mind was on fire. I had come to New York City to see if there was something to the “immersive theatre” that was happening on the East Coast and I wound up finding something I had been searching for all my life.
I spent the rest of that night and into the early morning, first two days and then at the stroke of midnight one day shy of my 38th birthday, scrawling notes and drinking beer in an after-hours jazz club on the Lower East Side of Manhattan where one of my best friends was playing in a jam session. The ideas flowed faster than the beer and what I sketched out that night is still unfolding to this day.
Without Then She Fell there’s no No Proscenium. There’s no Everything Immersive.
The last six and a half years of my life would have played out drastically differently if this show wasn’t what it was.
I’m so very grateful that it existed at all, that it miraculously survived as long as it did, and that it inspired so many. And I am so very, very angry at those who let this damn pandemic destroy so much of what is good about this world.
We’ll meet again. I know we will.
— Noah Nelson, Founder & Publisher, No Proscenium
I knew this day would come. I always hoped it wouldn’t, but deep down I knew it would inevitably happen. Nothing good can last forever, right?
Then She Fell has meant more to me than any other piece of art I have ever engaged with. This is the show that sparked my specialization in immersive work and made me feel that somehow, some way, there was an audience of people who would be interested in the work that I wanted to make too. Then She Fell showed me that theatre can be dynamic and incredibly nuanced and full of surprises, and it taught me about thoughtfulness and care and the beauty of intimacy for audience participants. It is so much more than just another show. Then She Fell is…was pure magic.
Endless gratitude to the Third Rail Projects team for bringing this into the world and sharing it with us. It changed me forever, and I know I’m not alone in that.
For those who had the privilege to experience it, we raise a glass, and for those who didn’t, we pour one out. Here’s to what comes next.
— Allie Marotta, NYC Correspondent
It is hard to quantify the grief of losing a world. It feels as though we who were lucky enough to set foot in Kingsland Ward bore witness down the rabbit hole, and now sit at a loss of how to explain the wonders we’ve seen. Then She Fell was magnanimous in its intimacy, nursing audience members into dream-like cocoons, swaddling them in the feelings of being seen and being special. In it, the Third Rail team created an antidote to so many pains, most notably (in my mind) the pain of disillusionment and the loss of childlike wonder. In Then She Fell, we were allowed to get curiouser and curiouser. The journey ached with a sense of connection and vulnerability. To have one of our industry leaders based in such tenets was and is invaluable.
I will never forget my time in Kingsland Ward, and that is a promise. Whether to have lain in bed next to strangers and lovers alike, prepped for our bedtime story; sat at the head of the banquet table, passing flying china teacups with a roaring laugh; been fed grapes or handed calligraphy pens; or waded through rivers that shall otherwise be kept secret: the tactility and fantastical realness of Then She Fell has ingrained itself on my skin and in my heart permanently. How lucky we were to receive such an invitation.
I have absolute faith that where Third Rail goes next will continue to be remarkable.
— Leah Ableson, NYC Correspondent
Immersive work, and immersive theatre, specifically, changed my life. It set me on new paths personally, professionally, and creatively. And Then She Fell was perhaps the best example of its power.
It was the progenitor of the specific flavor of immersive I adore, even if I didn’t know it for years. Its use of interactivity, non-linear storytelling, dance, and performance… I only saw Then She Fell once, but I’ve seen its influence in other shows a countless number of times.
To lose Then She Fell, and its ability to inspire new artists and creators, will have an impact we’ll never fully understand. You can’t quantify something that no longer exists. And that’s a big part of why this is so damn sad.
The world is in chaos. Uncertainty abounds. It’s in times like this that art is more important than ever. It helps us contextualize, process, and better understand what’s happening around us. Thankfully we’ve got some of that with the modern TV golden age. But immersive theatre’s use of physical space and IRL interaction has always made it unique. It taps into our most basic human need: to connect. But it’s a medium that Covid feels tailor-made to hobble.
See, this is about more than just one show closing. It’s also about losing all the shows that will never be inspired by Then She Fell. And it’s a sad harbinger for what could lay ahead for immersive in a post-Covid world.
Yes, there are more important things in this world than immersive theatre. But a medium that lets us connect with each other in the divisiveness of 2020? I’d argue that’s one of the most vital things.
So goodbye for now, Then She Fell. Thank you for the profound experience, Third Rail Projects. To everyone that saw it: Go Make Art. I think that’s the best way to honor it and continue its legacy.
I hope to visit Kingsland Ward again someday. There was so much yet to discover.
— Bryan Bishop, Special Correspondent
In quarantine, I’ve thought of the Kingsland Ward more and more. Then She Fell created a feeling I’d never felt before, of the desperate need for hope, even impossible hope, in the midst of tragedy. Each sip of cocktail, each small smile, and each, kind whispered word was a magic spell. I’ve tried to keep that spirit alive every day. My time with the Hatter, and Alice, and Lewis Caroll, and the shockingly affecting Red Queen were magic. Even the Orderly and his gentle care occupy my mental real estate — I think I’ll miss him most of all as I sip something nice after a hard day.
Then She Fell was a treat to me from NoPro’s own Cheyenne Ligon, a celebration of my admission into grad school. We saw it one magic, drizzly night perhaps two weeks before COVID-19 hit. I feel blessed that I got to make it a part of my life, at a time I didn’t know was the last possible moment.
I’m sure we’ll meet again, Then She Fell. As Vera Lynn said, “don’t know where, don’t know when,” but I know I have to keep that hope alive. I’ll see your shades across the worlds of immersive, and, for sure, see your smiling face wherever Third Rail brings us next.
— Blake Weil, NYC Curator
Sitting in Bryant Park, with a facsimile copy of Alice through the looking glass, I greedily soaked up every detail as I had been told by friends that the more “Alice” knowledge I had going in, the better — but nothing could prepare me for the experience that would forever change my view on theatre which was to come that evening.
The care and attention to every detail inside Kingsland Ward extends far past the source material, past each exquisitely nuanced performance, or even the stunning set, but to every single audience member. The wonder of Then She Fell comes from being so lovingly and personally guided through every unforgettable and intimate moment of the show.
A true staple of the immersive landscape, in New York City and afar, Then She Fell has been the go-to example for so many of us when describing beautiful, meaningful, powerful work and has been the de facto recommendation that I share with anyone and everyone who will listen to me. I was fortunate to send my parents to this show, who came away just as enchanted, eager to explore more of the “immersive rabbit hole” that this show so beautifully showcases.
The walk away from Kingsland Ward was always a haunting experience, like emerging out of a dream that you weren’t quite ready to wake up from, where nothing yet seems quite like reality, and today’s news brings back all of this. But, for me, the memories of this magnificent show will continue to live on far into the future.
— Edward Mylechreest, Correspondent at Large
This news gutted me. Then She Fell was one of the most magical immersive experiences I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing. I can’t even count how many folks I’ve recommended this experience to over the years. I’m so sad that more people won’t get the chance to feel its wonder and intimacy. I’m so sad that I won’t get another chance to as well. Mostly, I’m sad that the world is such that they were forced to make this difficult decision to begin with.
But I’m grateful that it existed at all. I’m grateful to have wandered those halls, to have been moved by those performances, to have been made part of their intoxicatingly beautiful world, if only for one evening. It was an experience I’ll always cherish and one that started me down a life altering trajectory. For these reasons and more, I’ll choose to remain grateful.
Everyone involved with this exquisite production should be incredibly proud. It was and will always be one of the great immersive experiences of our time. Thank you for helping pave that pathway for the rest of the dreamers to follow.
May we all gather together in the future (when it’s safe to do so again) and experience more magic together. Onward…
— Cara Mandel, Festival Correspondent
It is an age-old question: what happens when a person wanders through a magical portal and finds herself in a fantastical new world? Alice fell through a rabbit hole, Lucy Pevensie crawled through a wardrobe, Coraline found a skeleton key, and we, as guests of Then She Fell, crossed the threshold at a church in Greenpoint and found ourselves patients of the Kingsland Ward.
Then She Fell was utterly unique in its ability to send each participant on their own hero’s journey. It allowed us to float through Alice’s hauntingly lovely otherworld and piece together her story one intimate interaction, one gravity-defying dance, one whispered bedtime story at a time. Each time I left the Kingsland Ward, slightly drunk on cherry cordial and citrus-flavored potions, I felt the unfairness of being torn away from the dreamlike Ward and thrust back into the streets of Brooklyn. But I knew I could always come back, that the world was there waiting for my return. Now it isn’t.
To think that I will never again take dictation from the Mad Hatter, walk across an indoor river filled with messages in bottles, or paint roses with the Red Queen is deeply sad. We know what happens when girls fall through portals. But what happens when they come back? What happens when they return to find that the portal is closed forever?
Then She Fell was a masterclass in immersive theatre, and though I’m sad it’s over, I am eternally grateful that I had the privilege to experience it while it was here. It shaped my view of storytelling and design and set the bar for what a perfect immersive experience looks like to me.
Farewell, Then She Fell. We’ll be dreaming a dream together, you and I.
— Cheyenne Ligon, NYC Correspondent
Goodbye Then She Fell. You were my first immersive show and you were my favorite immersive show.
Four years ago, this month I stepped off the streets of Williamsburg and into Kingsland Ward. I knew vaguely what to expect of the show but was unprepared for how profoundly it would affect me, as both a piece of theatre and a new medium to experience. It was dreamlike. It was gentle. It was so, so thematically rich. And most of all, it was magical.
So much so, that I didn’t think I ever needed to see it again (and I didn’t even get many of the iconic Alice scenes!). It was one of those perfect moments, and surely, the show could never capture that same magic again.
It set me on a journey into immersive theatre and into I don’t even know how many shows and worlds. So many of those shows were influenced by Third Rail Projects’ masterpiece, from storytelling to structure to set pieces to movement to costuming. It isn’t a stretch to say that Then She Fell is a foundation on which much of immersive theatre is laid. It did so much so right that how could it not be?
The hook is easy, “immersive, interactive Alice in Wonderland,” so it isn’t a surprise that this is one of the first shows people drift towards (along with incredible word of mouth and until yesterday, its long, open-ended run). From there though, it guides you into its strange world and envelops you in a gentle, loving hug while encouraging you to explore what it means to fall and grow, as both a child and an adult. The dancing, the monologues, and the rooms (those magnificent rooms) all combine to make it work so well. It transcends that easy to explain concept into something beautiful and intimate.
And then, I did return. On a trip to New York City in February, my wife said she wanted to go back because she was better acquainted with immersive theatre now and felt she could absorb the whole show. I’ll be forever glad she did. I was a little nervous, but, of course, I had no reason to be. Then She Fell is so well-crafted that any path you get through it can feel perfect.
I could go on and on, but even then, it would be an inadequate eulogy.
So, I’ll end on this:
I’m sad that I may not be able to return to Kingsland Ward and Then She Fell, but it’s heartbreaking that people won’t be able to experience it at all.
I’m forever grateful for Then She Fell because, as they say, “It is a good night for ghosts. And between us, we have a pocketful.”
— Kevin Gossett, LA Editor
It’s the end of an era.
It’s hard to find the words to describe how much Then She Fell has meant to NoPro: to me, Noah, Zay, Kevin, the rest of the staff, and the rest of the immersive theatre community at large.
Then She Fell has always felt like the little scrappy Brooklyn show that could, starting with a limited six week run, turning a $8,902 Kickstarter campaign into a real life show in an former hospital; it soon blossomed into a theatrical phenomenon, one which grew and grew over time through word of mouth and critical acclaim and well-deserved awards. Then She Fell wove a world which enveloped participants into its fiction using old church pews, trick mirrors, unfamiliar elixirs, broken tea cups, ink-stained letters, old rusting file cabinets, a room filled with tears, an ethereal original soundtrack, and more. With only 15 audience members at a time, often split into ones and twos, it was a masterclass in intimacy and human connection and building empathy. Even now, my memories of Kingsland Ward remain vivid, grippingly visceral. I conjure the memory of Alice eating an orange in front of a mirror even now and the fragrance of phantom citrus drifts into my nostrils.
The sheer quality of craftsmanship on display during Then She Fell has set the standard for immersive theatre for modern audiences across the world. And the amount of influence that Then She Fell has had on immersive creators over the course of its 4,444 performances cannot be understated, inspiring countless experiences around the world. I have seen its ideas spread far and wide. I am sure you have, too. For we all have fallen down the rabbit hole, all of us, and now we are heartbroken to leave Wonderland behind.
So: thank you, Third Rail Projects for letting us into your magical world of Mad Hatters and White Rabbits and houses as big as memory, for a few hours at a time, night after night, for seven and a half years. We are honored to have visited this world while we could; the portal, it appears, is now closed.
But perhaps, one day, we’ll all fall down the rabbit hole once more. Even if it’s only in our dreams.
— Kathryn Yu, Executive Editor
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