The Essence of Progress: Building A Bridge
More than a raging river
Keeps us where we are.
We may be near
But we are so near, and yet so far.
“So Near and Yet So Far,” The Bridge: A New Musical Epic – Music by Kathleen Wrinn and Frances Pollock
At a time when the divide seems so evident, so impossibly wide, do we build walls, or do we build a bridge? Do we separate ourselves into fractured camps of politics, identity, geography, and economic status, or do we dare to bridge the divide, embracing the fact that bridges are complex, inherently messy, and even risky connections? One seemingly keeps us safe, but separated; the other opens paths for connection—but to what end?
This question—do we build bridges or walls—is as old as our country’s first divides. In 1867, amid the fractured wake of the Civil War, New York and Brooklyn wrestled with this very choice as they considered joining their cities with the Brooklyn Bridge. Do we bridge the East River, or do we stay separate?
In 2024, the question is more metaphorical but no less urgent. We live in a country where partisan divides are splintering our political systems. The gap between the “haves” and the “have-nots” not only widens but becomes more visible each day. Experts repeatedly warn of growing “elite” polarization and its inevitable trickle-down effects. The messages surrounding humanitarian crises feel both dire and insurmountable, while isolation and loneliness have escalated to the level of public health crises.
Yet the question remains the same. Do we choose to build a bridge, knowing that the process—and perhaps the outcome—carries great risk? And if we decide to build that bridge, what form will it take? What will inspire consensus and transform doubt into belief?
My name is Frances Pollock. I am a composer, a graduate of the Yale School of Music, a founding partner of a venture studio called Midnight Oil Collective (MOC), and a Venture Advisor at Tsai CITY. I have had the privilege of working with Tsai CITY both as a student and as a supporter of students. I am currently on the cusp of launching my next venture, which is both connected to MOC and stands as a unique project in its own right—one that examines the pathway to developing cultural assets and aims to bridge the gap between what currently exists in cultural production and what could exist by reimagining the production process.
That venture takes the form of a musical theater piece based on a true story called The Bridge. Here is the story–
In 1867, just two years after Robert E. Lee's surrender at Appomattox to end the Civil War, engineer John Augustus Roebling proposed the construction of a suspension bridge to connect Manhattan and Brooklyn, then two separate cities. The project was unprecedented, spanning approximately 1,600 feet over the East River, designed to support both pedestrian and vehicular traffic. As the first steel-wire suspension bridge in the world, it was a groundbreaking feat of engineering, utilizing innovative caisson technology to anchor its towers. The bridge symbolized technological and economic progress, playing a vital role in the urban expansion that ultimately helped merge the two cities into a global economic center.
However, the path to completion was far from smooth. The project was dangerous—dozens, including John Roebling, lost their lives, and many others, including his son Washington, suffered decompression sickness. Economic, social, and political divides—from the aftermath of the Civil War to rampant political corruption—further complicated the undertaking. The bridge took twice as long and cost twice as much as originally estimated. At one point, it seemed the effort might be abandoned altogether. It wasn’t until Washington Roebling’s wife, Emily Roebling, secretly took over the project under her husband’s name that the bridge finally moved toward completion. Emily, who had studied architecture and engineering, led the project for 11 years while her husband recovered from decompression sickness and mental illness. In a time when women could neither vote nor own property, Emily Roebling managed hundreds of laborers and navigated the complex public and boardroom politics that led to the completion of this iconic New York City landmark. When the bridge finally opened on May 24, 1883, Emily Warren Roebling was the first to cross it, carrying a rooster as a symbol of victory.
Whether history remembers the Brooklyn Bridge as a symbol of victory, progress, or simply change is debatable, but change it did. From that day forward, New York City—and the world of bridge-building—would never be the same.
The story of building the Brooklyn Bridge and the musical retelling of this historic epic will become the prototype for a more contemporary bridge that the artistic team behind The Bridge, the thinkers at Yale, and the dreamers at MOC are attempting to build.
Our new bridge seeks to connect the realms of innovation and capital formation—fields that so effectively fuel science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM)—with the world of arts and culture. My aim is to share how this bridge is being built, establishing a commercialization model for cultural IP that is essential to bridging our profound cultural divides. We envision a world where culture makers have the access to the same infrastructure as scientists, technologists, and entrepreneurs that allows them to bring their unique perspectives and creations into the world, fostering a deeper human connection. Though complex and messy, this bridge has the power to bring us together, uniting us in our shared humanity.
Currently, that bridge does not exist. Universities (the incubation hubs for STEM development) have recognized that commercializing intellectual property (IP) generated by their STEM faculty members and student researchers can create enormous value, value for society as well as direct financial value for the university itself. As a result, they have been channeling considerable resources (money, labs, education, tech transfer departments) to these areas. But there has not been the comparable mechanism for commercialization of arts or entertainment-related IP, despite the fact that artistic IP in the form of copyrights has the potential to spawn franchises that change culture and are worth billions of dollars. And because there is no commercialization pipeline for IP, there is almost no education in business or finance available to artists, despite the fact that our most far-reaching voices are from those creators who valued creative control enough to learn (on their own) how to manage their own franchises. (Think Walt Disney, George Lucas, Tyler Perry, Taylor Swift, Rihanna, Jimmy Buffet, JayZ…).
In the STEM world, investors back visionary founders and their teams, betting on potential and innovation. In contrast, the arts and entertainment world operates differently. Creators often pitch to producers or studios, only to lose control of their work. In film and TV, creators may sell a script, but studios can drastically alter or abandon the project entirely. Worse, many ideas come from non-artistic studio executives, who hire writers on a work-for-hire basis under tight supervision.
This outdated system strips creators of ownership and churns out recycled content that fails to connect with today's world. Yet, with technological advances making independent production and distribution more accessible than ever, there's never been a better time to invest in creators at the early stages—keeping them at the center of their work where they belong.
Suffice it to say that there is a lot to talk about.
Throughout this blog, we will explore a new path to contstructing the musical as its own business and potential franchise, and we will discuss the ecosystem and community that will need to emerge for the asset to find its way to the market, who will ultimately validate its success or not. We will hear from creative voices, from arts market experts, and from ecosystem builders on the necessary structural changes that will need to occur for this bridge to reach completion. And ultimately we will share our successes and failures as we attempt to do what has never been done before–build a structure that will allow the seemingly separate spheres of production in STEM and production of Culture to be merged into one innovation landscape.
And we will be hosting touch points with this new vision all along the way–the first of which will be next month. Please join me in celebrating this vision at a free showcase of The Bridge on November 21st at 7:30 PM in Morse Recital Hall, Yale University. We will be performing 90 minutes of this work with an extraordinary Broadway-studded cast, featuring book and lyricist Kathleen Wrinn as our protagonist, Emily Roebling.
After the recital, follow this blog to track the progress of bringing The Bridge to life as we work toward its full production.
One more observation about bridges: building them is hard, but when they are completed, they feel inevitable. Public opinion shifts from disbelief to certainty. Those who once said, “It will never happen,” turn to, “I knew it would happen all along.” Or they simply take it for granted. But bridges set precedents, and histories are written by those who can trace the progress and map the artifacts that laid the foundation along the way. Engineers start to use them, study them, and iterate on their design to build more—and even better—bridges. Bridges help us connect the world physically and socially. They make it easier to move through the world. That’s the hope of innovation: if we can rally behind the building of bridges, we can start to move onward together. That, to me, is the essence of progress.
