Student Blog: The Hungry and the Known

I’ve always seen Broadway as a kind of benchmark for where theater is at, not just in terms of quality but in terms of what the industry values. So when I heard that this season was the highest-grossing in Broadway history, it definitely caught my attention. It was encouraging to see that audiences were coming back in such big numbers and that live performance is still drawing crowds in a major way. 

But looking closer, something didn’t sit quite right with me. So many of this season’s major hits were built around big-name celebrities. Whether it was Audra McDonald, Nicole Scherzinger, Denzel Washington, or George Clooney, it felt like almost every major show needed a famous face to lead it. As someone training to one day be on that stage, I couldn’t help but wonder: if you’re not already famous, is there still a place for you? 

That question hits especially hard when you’re on the inside of the process. Auditioning constantly, balancing school, side jobs, and daily training is exhausting. For many of us, the path to Broadway isn’t glamorous. It’s early mornings, late nights, and endless audition waiting rooms packed with people just as hungry as you are. We’re told that persistence and craft are what matter most, but when it feels like fame is the golden ticket, that message gets harder to believe. 

There’s no denying that star power sells tickets. In today’s economy, it makes sense that producers want a name that guarantees attention and revenue. Some of these celebrities are incredibly skilled performers. Audra McDonald, for example, is a true icon of the stage. But when every production seems to depend on a celebrity name, it raises bigger questions. What happens to all the talent who don’t have a public profile? What kinds of stories are being sidelined because they can’t be marketed around a star? There’s also the issue of accessibility. Limited runs featuring celebrities often lead to outrageous ticket prices, making Broadway feel less like a shared cultural experience and more like an exclusive event. Theater should be for everyone, not just those who can afford the buzz. 

As an artist, I hold onto the belief that craft, honesty, and story still matter. I want to believe there’s still space on that stage for individuals who care more about the process than the spotlight. For those of us who long for something real and want to tell stories that haven't been heard yet. Not just revivals made to sell tickets, but work that resonates, work that moves people, challenges them, or makes them feel seen. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

This record-breaking season proved that people are still excited about live theater, which is genuinely worth celebrating. But it also revealed how much the business has changed. My hope is that Broadway doesn't lose its balance between the entertainment industry and raw artistry, between commercial success and creative opportunity. There’s room for both. Because ultimately, Broadway isn’t just about who’s on stage. It’s about the message and how it makes us feel. Fame may fill seats, but it’s heart, truth, and talent that keep people coming back.