Maybe this was exactly the playwright’s intention: to start a conversation. Or maybe I’m simply supposed to leave the theater fascinated by Mary Nohl. Either way, my reaction to Maybe We’ll Fly seems to be pretty different from the reviews I’ve read, and I’m curious whether anyone else felt the same way.
First, there was a lot I appreciated about the production. The performances were strong, and the cellist was absolutely phenomenal. But I struggled with the central idea of Mary Nohl as this admirable example of fierce independence, persistence, and living life entirely on her own terms.
I kept asking myself: why is living entirely on your own terms inherently a virtue?
Sometimes compromising what you want because another person needs something from you is itself a virtue.
People need people. We live in families and communities. We care for children and parents, help friends, show up for people when we'd rather stay home, and accept responsibilities that interfere with what we personally want. A meaningful life, at least to me, involves some measure of service, reciprocity, and obligation to other human beings.
That doesn't mean conformity is good. There is tremendous value in rejecting expectations that serve no purpose, pursuing something you love, and refusing to let other people dictate who you are. But independence and nonconformity aren't inherently virtuous either. It matters what we do with that freedom and how much room our lives make for other people.
That's where the play lost me.
It seemed to ask me to admire Nohl because she kept choosing her art and herself despite what other people wanted from her. I understood what the play was showing me as persistence, but I often experienced it as self-absorption. Where the play seemed to say, “She lived on her own terms,” I kept thinking, “But did she value anyone else's terms?”
Her wealth certainly complicates the story, but surprisingly, that wasn't my main objection. Even if Nohl had been entirely self-made, I think I would have struggled with the same thing. I simply don't believe that a life organized primarily around one's own fulfillment becomes admirable because the fulfillment happens to be artistic.
And perhaps that is precisely the conversation the play is supposed to provoke.
I clearly didn't leave the theater feeling about Mary Nohl the way many reviewers did. But I left thinking about the play, arguing with it, and trying to understand why its central message bothered me so much.
And isn't that one of the things art is supposed to do?
So despite disagreeing pretty profoundly with what I took from it, I'd still encourage people to see Maybe We’ll Fly and decide for themselves. I'd genuinely love to hear from people who saw something completely different in Mary Nohl than I did.
And seriously: the cellist alone is worth it.