part I: my group intro
hi, i’m daniella,
and i am an internet addict.
here’s a poem/review/reaction/song?/whatever-this-is on octet,
because that’s the kind of person i am.
i consume art,
i try to make meaning out of it,
then words pour out,
i try to share it,
and maybe people care!
before the show, i was talking
to a fellow theater journalist friend
about the phenomenon
of being known on the internet for theater journalism,
and like, how weird it is to be perceived.
like some people know you in a niche community,
but not the whole world.
and still, conversely, i think i’m addicted to perception and meaning,
to ideas and presentation
and how one appears to the world.
i value being genuine, and vulnerable,
and being real on main, and letting it all out
that’s me as an artist at least.
that’s the ~brand.~
but like, is that really me?
how real can i get?
i document my life on social media constantly,
but do i really share the most important bits?
and at the same time, why do i try
to scour my own life for trauma porn
and consider whether or not to share it online?
god, who the fuck cares?
part II: “on to the show”
i think i like octet
because i think poetically.
because these vignettes of beautiful chaos,
when given full weight,
with performers leaning into unhinged wackiness,
with the vast expanse of a void in a black box,
strike me as full stories of their own
while showing that it is a struggle to grow.
it is “dust and ashes” on crack.
it doesn’t follow a linear structure,
because addictions don’t make sense.
my brain can’t help what it hyperfixates on.
choral concept therapy musicals aren’t for everyone.
i am messed up, and to me,
tight choral singing is nostalgic,
reminiscent of a freer past,
so it is certainly for me.
the issues are tenfold:
endless cycles, numbness, fools,
different kinds of gods, reason, insanity
holding on, letting go.
it’s not just about internet addiction,
it could apply to anyone who needs to heal.
if you can buy into each different universe,
maybe your hurts could have less hurt.
a girl gone wrong, unable to escape
the unexpected mistake everyone knows her for
the bright high of escaping
through a silly food game
while you know you are numb
a loveless, detached relationship,
resigned to be broken while
spinning in a slow, unbroken circle
desperation to find simple good love,
but online dating sucks,
and lonely people do scary things
struggles to process and feel
as you succumb to the radical, dark side
questioning what’s rational and real,
the world just not making sense,
perhaps a god, perhaps not
beauty in connection and understanding,
a quiet sure moment amidst condemnation.
i’m addicted to art at the expense of life sometimes.
i am reminded of humanity when i’m not constantly online.
sometimes music alone can help you not be alone.
sometimes individual stories don’t have to fit into one cohesive whole.
escape the monster, just live and be,
remember who and what is best for me.
reflect and reenact, refresh (but more healthily).
can we handle it?
can we regain control?
can an infinity of wonders return?
i don’t know.
this show doesn’t provide answers,
it scares you, and it holds you.
if you feel it,
you think about what it means
when you’re in it,
and maybe you think:
what does it take to change?
to break the cycle of unhealthy obsession?
can we save ourselves?
can we save each other?
part III: 🎶“an ode to my writing apps” 🎶
Eb
oh to make an ode to
Ab. Db
my notes app, and google drive.
Eb. Ab
i hate how it all literally
. Gm
makes me feel alive.
Eb. Cm
why don’t i write in a notebook
Db. Eb
like i do for the rest of my life?
Eb. Cm
sadly, tapping immediately
Db. Eb
gives me that dopamine
Eb. Ab. Eb
it’s what my fingers and my brain know
Eb. Ab. Eb
and it’s hard to let that go
Eb
you lose yourself
but still have something else
Ab
to hyperfixate on.
Eb
you loathe your mind,
so you blast your thoughts online,
Ab
to initiate debate on.
Fm
it’s not killing time.
Db
it’s spending it.
Fm
it’s associating.
Ab Eb
but am i disassociating?
Fm
it’s for me and for you
Ab Gm
but mainly it’s a habit
Gm. Fm
i have to see through
Ab
to know me is to know
Gm. Ab
my notes app reviews (and songs.)
*end song*
Octet plays through February 22, 2026, in the Victor Shargai Theatre at Studio Theatre, 1501 14th Street NW, Washington, DC. For tickets ($68–$150, with discounts available), go online, call the box office at 202-332-3300, email boxoffice@studiotheatre.org, or visit TodayTix. Studio Theater offers discounts for first responders, military servicepeople, students, young people, educators, senior citizens, and others, as well as rush tickets. For discounts, contact the box office or visit here for more information.
Running Time: One hour and 40 minutes with no intermission
The program for Octet is online here.
Note: Octet is a phone-free experience. Audience members will be asked to lock their phones in a pouch for the duration of the show.
SEE ALSO:
Amelia Aguilar on finding acceptance and honesty in ‘Octet’ at Studio (interview by Nathan Pugh, January 25, 2025)
What works (and what doesn’t) in Dave Malloy’s ‘Octet’ at Studio (review by Nicole Hertvik, January 21, 2025)
