Student Blog: Reinventing the Wheel: When 'Originality' Gets in the Way of True Creative Risk

As a graduate student, I spend a lot of my spare time reading and listening to industry leaders. I’ve always enjoyed supplementing my learning, and it feels important to connect my classroom education with relevant industry news. But one word has been popping up with remarkable frequency: innovation.

Whether it’s a branding tactic or a lighting technique, it feels like every professional aims to stamp a mark of innovation on their work. Sure, there’s always been an inherent appeal in being the first in a new frontier. However, innovation seems to have become a target rather than an accolade for exceptional creative risk. I’ve found myself asking: Are we innovating because we want to appear to be leaders, or because it’s the most effective way to better connect with our audience?

Most of my coursework focuses on the fundamentals of mass communication. At a time when technical knowledge is evolving so quickly, largely due to artificial intelligence, there’s a strong value in developing expertise in principles that can be applied broadly. When it comes to projects, though, there is an expectation to bring a unique, creative perspective.

This pressure isn't unique to the classroom. The theatre industry faces a similar burden of reinventing the wheel. If staging isn't groundbreaking enough or tech isn't cutting-edge, critics are quick to judge how lackluster a lack of creative risk feels. We often feel that if we aren't disrupting expectations, we aren't doing our jobs.

I recently worked on a corporate communications report that leveraged brand storytelling to present data compellingly. Faced with "blank-page syndrome," I considered taking an innovative approach to explore how a new angle might give the project a distinct edge. However, as I was drafting my pages, I found myself boxing in my creativity—eliminating possibilities solely because they weren’t "original enough." My first draft was lackluster at best, so I scrapped the project and went back to the literal drawing board.

This time, I went back to basics. I focused more on what best met the project's needs, approaching every creative choice through a problem-solution model. I challenged myself to push past the first, and often easiest, thought. I wanted to make the project engaging, and even if my tactics weren't fully original, I didn’t want it to turn into a data report that lacked intrigue.

When I presented this new version to the project supervisor, I was shocked by the positive feedback. She spoke about how distinct the project was and how it was one of the strongest reports she had seen in years. It was at that moment that I realized I had unintentionally innovated with the delivery, despite my goal being simply to meet the project’s needs clearly and concisely. By casually ignoring convention, a better path emerged.

Young professionals, especially, feel the pressure to make their mark and stand out in a crowded industry. As theatre more broadly approaches revivals and new adaptations, a wholly new perspective is almost mandatory. Creating the newest "thing" seems like a surefire way to garner attention, but will it lead to five seconds of fame or the dawn of a legacy? Never-before-seen projects will always get noticed, but what makes them truly resonate is the heart behind the craft. There will always be a place for innovation, but perhaps it is most needed when it arrives serendipitously.