BIO

Thomas Murray is a fourth generation Chicagoan who works as a teacher, an ethnodramatist, and a gatherer of people. This is his third consecutive term being creative with The Midwives. By day (and sometimes night and sometimes weekends and sometimes even while he's dreaming), Thomas is the Chief Community Officer for EquiTech Futures, an applied research lab and global digital campus focused on the intersection of technology and societal challenges. He leads EquiTech's alumni network and teaches a course he developed called the Speaking Lab, encouraging young innovators to lean into their self-narratives and clearly communicate their ideas. Thomas is a member of the Waltzing Mechanics, the Lincoln Center Theater Directors Lab, and served as a core member for The Midwives' most recent term. He holds two degrees in theatre directing, but he is eager to experiment with another creative medium this term with his Circle. Thomas lives with his husband in Chicago's Edgewater Beach neighborhood where they relish the fine dining, storefront theaters, and spontaneous walks to the Lake Michigan shoreline.

WHAT I MAKE

I usually make theatre, but in this term, I'm eager to bring small groups of people together for multi-course dinners and conversations.

INSPIRED BY

takeoff rolls
Priya Parker's The Art of Gathering
wilting spinach
the way an airfield at night looks like upside-down stars
The Great Lakes
Anna Deavere Smith
Martha Lavey
dutch ovens
final boarding calls
Nina Blackwood
the music of my youth
Cheryl Strayed's Tiny Beautiful Things
multi-course dinners
my husband

EXPLORING:

Before the pandemic, I hated cooking because I thought I was bad at it. The process itself was tedious, and the meals I made never lived up to my expectations. Living in a major city, it was just easier and more satisfying to order takeout when I could afford it. But when Covid locked us down in March 2020, I didn't have a choice. I had to cook for myself and my vegetarian husband, which meant I needed to buy some cookbooks and diversify my thinking in the kitchen. With all my work transitioning online overnight, I suddenly found cooking to be a release - it was something distinctly non-digital. It required me to close my laptop and wash my hands and chop some vegetables. It was an exercise in precision and transformation: when I followed someone's recipe using the right tools and the right ingredients and the right proportions, the kitchen smelled like someone else was cooking - like someone good was cooking! My husband was my audience of one; the look of enthusiasm on his face as he took the first bite of a new recipe was my round of applause. As vaccines allowed us to ease our social distancing, I tried out my new kitchen practice on close friends. Their delight became my delight. And it led to this creative urging: I'm not a trained chef, but I do like to cook for people. I love a thematic dinner. What if I planned and hosted a series of multi-sensory gatherings comprised of good people, inspiring conversations, and a home-cooked menu to match? I've been a theatre maker since I was a kid, but what if I grew my capacity for this kind of entertaining?