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Conversations with Andrew Whit (The Happening)

Today we’d like to introduce you to Andrew Whit (The Happening).

Hi Andrew, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
Well, The Happening didn’t come out of no where.

Houston has a long history of performance art getting weird in unexpected places. Artists here have spent decades blurring the boundaries between music, theater, movement, installation, and things that don’t really need a category. The Happening is lucky to be part of that lineage.

In 2022, Alexandra Lechin brought that spirit to The Orange Show, creating The Happening as a nomadic, modular series: different artists, different spaces, and an audience moving through it all together.

What makes the series especially possible is The Orange Show itself. We have something pretty rare in experimental art! Funding, gear, space, staff, manpower, and a remarkable amount of creative freedom from such a large institution.

I took over in 2024, just as restoration of the Orange Show Monument meant relocating The Happening to the warehouse located in the back of the campus. What seemed like a challenge (or maybe even a loss) ended up being an incredible new opportunity for the program, in that suddenly – we had a lot more room to play.

Since then, the show has naturally grown into that space. Productions have become more ambitious, audiences have gotten larger, and we’ve continued finding new corners of the campus for artists to transform. From the warehouse, to the parking lot, the pavilion, the ramp, the the hallways, and even Pete Gershon’s office – if we can put art in there, we’re going to do it. I really hope to one day have an artist show up who wants to do something weird in the bathrooms (if you’re reading this and that’s you – email me!)

We recently celebrated our 40th Happening, and it feels like we’re entering a really exciting chapter. More people are finding the series, we’re getting to work with an incredible range of talent, and every show teaches us a little more about what The Happening can be.

Forty shows in, the best part is that we still don’t entirely know.

“What will HAPPEN next?”

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
The struggles change every show.. which is probably the most consistent thing about The Happening.

We host five to seven acts each month, all with different ideas, technical needs, working styles, and occasionally very specific relationships with the concept of compromise. And because The Happening is both nomadic and modular, the whole thing operates like a giant moving puzzle.

We have five to seven stages to build and about two-and-a-half PAs to build them with. While the audience is watching Stage Two, we’re dismantling Stage One, hauling it somewhere else, and quietly turning it into Stage Three. The show you’re watching and the show we’re building are always happening at the same time.

This involves hundreds of yards of extension cords, a lot of heavy equipment, and a campus that is mostly un-air-conditioned. So the seasons are less something we observe and more something we work inside of. Summer means building stages in the heat; winter means tearing them down in the cold. The show goes on either way.

Then there are cancellations, last-minute additions, equipment failures..

But that’s The Happening. Whatever the forecast (climatic or emotional) whoever drops out, whoever jumps in, or however many times the PA has to cross the campus, we figure it out.

And we do it in style.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I might be the least interesting thing about The Happening. I know, generously, there are many people who would disagree with that statement, but it feels true to me.

I was actually on the phone earlier today with an artist performing at the next Happening. We’ve never met, and they’ve never been to the show. At one point they asked me, “So what kind of artist are you?”

The easiest answer is probably a creative Swiss Army knife.

I’ve never been particularly interested in specializing, nor do I have the discipline to do so. Over the years I’ve made music, performed, acted, directed, designed, painted murals, built installations, produced events, and generally said “yeah, I can help with that” enough times to learn how to do a lot of different things.

That’s probably what I’m most proud of, and what makes me well suited to The Happening. I don’t need to practice someone’s particular art form to respect what it requires. I know how to listen to an artist, understand what they’re trying to accomplish, and help figure out what needs to happen around them to make it possible.

A lot of that comes from being surrounded by incredible artists my entire adult life. I’ve always been the person eager to jump in, carry something, build something, troubleshoot something, learn a new skill, or help turn somebody else’s idea into something real. Somewhere along the way, collaboration became my medium.

That’s how I think about my role at The Happening now. I don’t need to be the most interesting person in the room. In fact, I’d rather not be. I get to spend my time finding interesting people, understanding what they do, and helping create the conditions for them to do it exceptionally well.

I’m known far less for one particular thing I make than I am for being a guy who can hop in and help make interesting things possible.

And I’m pretty proud of that.

What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?
As cliché as it may sound, I’ve learned that teamwork really does make the dream work.

I wouldn’t be who I am or doing what I do without the collaborators, mentors, and communities that have given me opportunities to learn and grow. The further I get, the more convinced I am that relationships are the work. A burnt bridge doesn’t just affect two people – it fractures a community, and ultimately makes that community smaller.

Some of my biggest lessons have come from relationships I’ve lost, personally and professionally. I look back on those times from my younger days when I had a bad attitude, didn’t show up, or pushed boundaries too hard with a lot of regret.

Those losses taught me two things though:

1) Stay flexible. Nothing is THAT big of a deal.

2) Uncompromisingly: stay humble, show up (early, ideally), be kind, and take good care of the people around me.

If someone asked me how to “do what Andrew does,” my only answer would be to try and be the best community member you can be.

I was told once “talent gets the audition, attitude keeps the job.” All these years later I couldn’t agree more.

Pricing:

  • The Happening is always free

Contact Info:

  • Instagram: @_thingshappentohappen

Person on stage speaking into microphone with orange backdrop, audience seated watching, large window behind stage showing trees.

Person with dark curly hair wearing a layered, feathered costume standing indoors with a blurred background.

Person wearing a triangular paper hat with a face, standing in front of a pink and white background, speaking into a microphone.

Two musicians perform on stage with blue lighting, one playing a saxophone and the other a bassoon, with music stand nearby.

Two women perform on stage, one singing passionately and the other playing guitar, with stage lights and decorations.

Person with curly hair playing an acoustic guitar outdoors at night, wearing a red and yellow jacket.

Person in a dark outfit poses on the floor with bottles nearby, illuminated by colorful stage lighting.

People gather under a bridge, some sitting and some standing, with a performance or event happening in the background.

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