Open the day with a moment that didn't need a speech attached. Something that would get a room of 10,000 people to put their phones down and feel the same thing at the same time.
The idea started with Garret Rutherford, our executive producer, who simply said, "Let's open with these guys!" My job was to take a great idea and figure out how to make it actually happen.
There's a thing starlings do called a murmuration.
Thousands of birds turning at the exact same instant, with nobody in charge. It's one of the few things left that makes grown adults stop in a parking lot and stare at the sky. That's what we were chasing, with people. Awe is a strange feeling. It makes you small and connected at the same time, and it's hard to feel alone inside it.
Which meant calling Sadeck. If you've ever watched a stage full of dancers move like one machine on your phone, there's a decent chance it was his. His whole language is precision. Arms, hands, and geometry, dozens of bodies becoming one shape. The thing about synchronized work is there's nowhere to hide. One arm late and the illusion breaks. With only a day and a half to rehearse, Saddeck brought in one assistant; I brought my trusty collaborator, Brooke Bowe, and she brought 75 new friends to San Diego, and off we went, rehearsing for 10 hours on bleachers in front of a mirror.
I'm still in awe watching all these people who had never met until the day before the performance create something so in sync. I think our audience was too.