Showing posts with label John Vacha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Vacha. Show all posts

Friday, August 10, 2018

Single White Fringe Geek (blog)

American Theatre magazine produces a podcast I have been enjoying called Three On the Aisle, for which critics from the New York Times, Washington Post and Wall Street Journal (Peter Marks, Elisabeth Vincentelli and Terry Teachout, respectively) weigh in on the national theater scene.

In this most recent episode, they began by discussing staff layoffs at the New York Daily News, and listeners were treated to the unusual sound of Marks losing his shit, loudly and profanely lamenting the fate of American theater criticism.

This is not a subject I am unfamiliar with. In this blog I have also asked what will happen when theater criticism is no longer a profession unto itself, but is a minor responsibility relegated to journalists who have numerous, diverse beats, freelance community writers, and blogging theater fans.

At the turn of this century, John Vacha wrote Showtime in Cleveland, the history of Cleveland theater up to the year 2000. For this book he leaned heavily on newspapers and the work of theater critics, not only to discover what details could be gleaned about specific productions and performances, but also the behind-the-scenes history of the business of theater in one large American city.

Without a written record, our work may be lost to future generations. And in the present, audiences and potential audiences suffer from a lack of sources of good theater criticism. And yes, we as artists miss out on having a variety of critical eyes assessing us, holding a mirror to our work.

Fifteen years ago today, we concluded our run of I Hate This (a play without the baby) at the Minnesota Fringe Festival. At this festival I attracted audiences, met new colleagues, and received plenty of praise and encouragement on the local online message boards.

I also received my first actual pan for this play. Matthew Everett had only just started the blog Single White Fringe Geek, a record of MN Fringe reviews he keeps to this day. On my way out the metaphoric door, I read his review and it was not exactly glowing.

Red Eye Theatre, Minneapolis, MN (2003)
Everett felt that, in spite of the play's unique male perspective on the subject of stillbirth, it suffered from not including the grieving mother’s voice.

He said that the narrator (me) was the only fully-developed character, and that of those other characters represented, the kind ones were casually dismissed while much more attention was focused on those who were unkind, insensitive, or -- to use my own word from the show -- evil.

“There was,” Everett wrote, “a lot of anger in this play. It bordered on being unsympathetic.”

This was a lot to swallow. When you stick your neck out to create something so intimate, you know you are taking a risk. And yet, you can’t imagine someone actually criticizing you.

I hadn’t read his review these fifteen years, though I never forgot the gist of it. Reading it again, however, was eye-opening.

Because now I understand it was the single most important review I think I have ever received.

Remember, this is was at the beginning. He attended the eighth public performance of a show I went on to produce regularly for almost five years, and have returned to several times since. And it was with comments like his in mind that I revised the script, and more importantly, modulated my performance.

I didn’t change a lot of the script, a few words, light editing, nudging the piece in a certain direction. What would have happened at the New York Fringe Festival the following year without Everett’s observation? If I had received a notice like his in the New York Times, instead the positive review I did receive, due perhaps to the changes I made at his suggestion? That might have been devastating to me.

I do not believe I am overstating this when I suggest that Matthew Everett's highly-critical review saved I Hate This.

We need criticism; thoughtful, engaged, intelligent, professional criticism.

Monday, July 7, 2014

View from the Old Globe Theatre


Standing at the site of the Midway, observing the Coast Guard station parking lot where the Old Globe Theatre once stood, adjacent to a still, man-made inlet on North Coast Harbor, it is not difficult to imagine why many recalled these Shakespeare performances carrying with them the stench of dead fish.

The Old Globe was at the entrance to The Midway, (which Press columnist Winsor French described, “as honky-tonk as Coney island”) across a watery inlet from several kiddie rides, and across the street from numerous attractions.


From the front door of the Old Globe, you might see:
  • Pantheon De La Guerre, featuring relics from European wars both recent and not.
  • The World a Million Year’s Ago, a collection of animated dinosaurs.
  • Cliff Wilson's Snake Show, including Elmer, the twenty-eight foot, Borneo reticulated python.
  • Mammy’s Cabin, providing “real Southern cooking” - and real Southern charm, as this and other establishments were called out by the Call & Post for refusing to serve blacks.
  • Midget Circus, which warrants no further description.
  • 13 Spook Street, a haunted castle.
  • Strange As It Seems, like a freak show, but you, know, educational.
You also might see ... YOURSELF, on an electronic "television" screen! What will they think up next?

Sources:
Meet Me On Lake Erie, Dearie! by John Vacha (Kent State University Press)
CardCow.com

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Finding the Old Globe Theatre

Cleveland Press, 1936

Regardless of the time I have spent read or researching about the Old Globe Theatre at the 1936 Great Lakes Exposition, I have never been able to successfully picture where it stood in space, nor what surrounded it. So I contacted historian John Vacha and he agreed to meet me for an informal walking tour.

John arrived more prepared for this journey than I was (though I did bring my copy of Meet Me On Lake Erie, Dearie for him to sign) as he provided a map he found in the Cleveland Press which was much easier to read and follow than others I have seen. We parked on Lakeshore and walked west towards East Ninth.

It has been a beautiful day for walking.

The Olde Globe Theatre

The Main Entrance, the most photogenic entrance, featuring seven grand pylons, was actually a couple blocks south, on the other side of the Public Hall, but that was not our destination. The Expo was divided by East Ninth, with the lion's share of exhibits north of the railroad tracks.

Where the Rock Halls stands was the Firestone exhibit, where now stands the Great Lakes Science Center was the Hall of Progress and Automotive Building. The football stadium stand where once stood, uh, the old football stadium. That was also not my site of interest.

Just north of North Marginal Drive, formerly called "Shore Drive" they had built a tunnel beneath East Ninth for folks to pass unimpeded from the western exhibits to the Midway to the east, and also an entrance north of that right off East Ninth. It is that entrance which would have been the easiest access to the Old Globe Theatre.


With the exception of the creation of North Coast Harbor (see above) the land footprint is nearly the same as that of 78 years ago. Where now rests the World War II submarine, the USS Cod, there had been a World War One sub during the exposition. The Coast Guard had a station right there in 1936 - only several hundred yards to the north, where the Army Corps of Engineers now stands.

By mine and John's best estimate, the Old Globe Theatre, which presented forty-minute abridgements of several of Shakespeare's greatest plays (and also Henry VIII), the very play house where Sam Wanamaker, at the tender age of eighteen, first worked as a professional actor, performing the greatest roles of the canon (Second Citizen, Servant, Guard, Philostrate), inspiring him to one day recreate Shakespeare's Globe on old Bankside, was in fact located where now sits the Coast Guard station parking lot.



Just there, behind the young woman sitting at the water's edge (see her?) reading a book.

"What's she reading?" I asked.

I answered my own question at the same time John did: "Shakespeare."

To be continued.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Around Noon

Dee Perry and I producing the radio drama
adaptation of"I Hate This" for Around Noon (2005)

This Friday, June 28, 2013 will be the final broadcast of WCPN 90.3 FM's award-winning, northeast Ohio arts and entertainment program, Around Noon. The good news is that Dee Perry and her crew are moving to the 2 PM time slot, Monday through Thursday, with a new program called The Sound of Applause.

I guess this is a thematic melding of WCPN and the PBS station WVIZ and that station's long-running arts show Applause, which has been hosted by Dee since the two stations merged into Ideastream in 2001.

Change can be good. And people can complain. I remember when WCPN made the radical switch from largely jazz programming to mostly news and talk in the mid-1990s, and what a fuss people made at that time. It was forward-thinking, however, and as much as I am sick of talk radio, the NPR programs broadcast on WCPN and locally produced shows like The Sound of Ideas do provide for moderation and common sense discourse which is unavailable elsewhere.

And then there was Around Noon. I remember when I was public relations director at Dobama Theatre, and were were first contacted by the program in early 1997. I mean, they contacted us, looking for stories and interviews, because this was going to be a daily, hour-long radio program about arts and culture in the region. Usually it was me, begging attention from the print media, which even then, with two weekly papers and a full-functioning daily, appeared to regard arts coverage as some kind of charity work.

Cleveland Historian John Vacha and I chat with Dee about "It Can't Happen Here"
October 24, 2011

This was unique, this dedicated arts reporting, and it still is. It is a shame that in order to accommodate the new schedule they must drop their Friday shows (and for Ira Flatow of all people, I can't even listen to him) especially as they fall right before the weekend. But it's a gift, and in today's media climate, the people of greater Cleveland are lucky to have it.

Today is my wife and my fourteenth wedding anniversary (ivory, sweetheart, we'll skip the presents) but on our fifth anniversary (June 26, 2004) we joined 2,700 of our friends in getting naked in the shadow of the Steamship Mather for photo installation artist Spencer Tunick, and we worked with the folks at Around Noon to make an audio diary of the entire event. How cool is that?


Spencer Tunick: The Naked Truth

Best wishes to Dee and to the producers of The Sound of Applause, for many, many more years of excellence in arts reporting.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

It Can't Happen Here (The Final)


Cleveland Public Theatre hosted the Cleveland staged reading of "It Can’t Happen Here" on Monday, October 24, 2011. The event was directed by David Hansen and featured Case Western Reserve University adjunct professor John Vacha, author of "Showtime In Cleveland," the definitive history of Cleveland theater.

The company represented a cross-section of regional, professional theater. Dremus Jessup was performed by Dr. Michael Mauldin, head of the Cleveland State University theater department. Mary Greenhill was read by Cleveland Play House Associat Artistic Director Laura Kepley, and Dr. Fowler Greenhill by Ms. Kepley’s real-life husband, acclaimed playwright George Brant. Company also included Great Lakes Theater actor-teachers Brian McNally and Tim Keo, Cleveland Public Theater Associate Artistic Director Elizabeth Wood, as well as local professionals Myles Byrd, Mark Cipra, Elisa Hanna, Hester Lewellen, Brian Pedaci and Lew Wallace.

This reading, free and open to the public, was attended by 50 audience members. The evening opened with a “curtain raiser,” a reading of a ten-minute comic scene from David Hansen’s "Cleveland Centennial." This brief “Living Newspaper” style scene describes a fictional backstage account of the actual opening night of "It Can’t Happen Here" in Cleveland in 1936, but also includes actual quotations from Hallie Flanagan, Sinclair Lewis and local and nation critical response to the production. Presenting this scene was an entertaining way of providing historical context of this event to that evening’s 2011 audience.

Following this, John Vacha shared a 5-minute presentation including slides from opening night of the Cleveland production at the Carter Theatre at East 9th and Prospect. The full “September, 1936” version of "It Can’t Happen Here" was read with one, ten-minute intermission. Read with intensity, speed, humor and pathos, the running time of the reading itself was less than two hours, playing something like a “radio drama.” After the reading was concluded, Hansen and Vacha fielded a few questions from the audience. Some familiar with the book pointed up differences between that and this stage version, and asked if any changes had been made to make the story take place in Ohio (there were, as was done for the Cleveland production in 1936.) They wanted to know how successful the Cleveland production of "It Can’t Happen Here" was (it was very successful, and only closed because of scheduling.)

Response to the play itself was very, very positive. Many were impressed at how topical the script remains, and asked if there were any plans for a fully-staged production.



Earlier in the day Hansen and Vacha were interviewed on the local NPR affiliate, WCPN.

Monday, October 24, 2011

History Repeating

This week, 22 theaters (see listing below) in the United States and Great Britain will present It Can't Happen Here in celebration of the 75th Anniversary of its debut on October 27, 1936 in 21 theaters across America as part of the Federal Theatre Project.
 
I am very glad to say that Cleveland, one of the original cities to present this work, will be represented.

TONIGHT! FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLIC! Seriously, no reservations will be accepted, please come to Cleveland Public Theater tonight at 7 PM for all the fun. We will begin with a brief, ten-minute play I wrote about backstage jitters prior to the opening night at the Carter Theater at East 9th and Prospect (fiction) and critical and popular reaction to the production (non-fiction.)

Also featured will be Cleveland historian John Vacha, to share images from the original production and special insight into the Federal Theater Project.

Then the main event, a staged reading of the drama as written by Sinclair Lewis and John C. Moffitt for the 1936 productions. If you have ever seen or read the dramatic version of It Can't Happen Here, you most likely have not read this one. He rewrote the entire thing for a professional (non-Federal Theater) production two years later, and that is the one available through Dramatists Play Service.

I am extremely pleased with the company for tonight's reading, some of my favorite performers in Cleveland, from many different Cleveland area theaters.

Even more important, I am more impressed with the script, now that I have heard it read aloud by professionals. I think this play would have seemed hopeless dated fifteen years ago, but now I am no longer sure. There are certain passages that fill me with a great deal of unease. 1936 was a turning point in the Great Depression, FDR was up for reelection and there were those who feared he had gone too far -- and the unequaled landslide victory he received a week after the premiere of this play I am sure made some feel even more concerned about one man having too much power.

Tomorrow Vacha and I will appear on WCPN's Around Noon, which will feature the performance of a scene which includes this passage; young Julian Falck has joined Presidential candidate, Senator Buzz Windrip's band of Corpos, who act as Windrip's own corps of Brownshirts:
Julian
I've worked exactly four months during the past year --and that' s better than most of my classmates. Youth today isn't asking for a cinch or looking for glory! Youth is yelling for a job! And the Corpos will find one for me! They'll tell me what to do, and they'll feed me! They'll shake off this bungling "Democracy" and order things so that we'll get a living. When that happens -- I'll get a sweet, wholesome girl, and stop playing Romeo to a vacant balcony. We're not bandits! We're realists. We're through sitting around being Parlor Pinks. We're working together -- behind Buzz Windrip, the Man on Horseback.
Tea Party or Occupy Wall Street? A little bit of both. Not sure I can tell.

Be there.

IT CAN'T HAPPEN HERE - NATIONWIDE READING

Sponsoring Theatres:
Dell'Arte International, San Francisco Mime Troupe
Consideration provided by:
Dramatists Play Service, New York

SCHEDULE OF CONFIRMED READINGS

MONDAY, OCTOBER 17th - 7:00 pm


The Living Theater in collaboration with the Accidental Repertory Theater
... The Living Theatre, 21 Clinton St., NYC

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23rd - 7:00 pm


presented by Burning Clown Productions in concert with the Workshop Theater Company
Ellington Room, Manhattan Plaza, 400 W 43rd St., 2nd Floor, NYC

MONDAY, OCTOBER 24th - times vary (see each listing):

San Francisco Mime Troupe - 7:00 pm
855 Treat Ave., San Francisco CA

Cleveland Public Theatre - 7:00 pm
6415 Detroit Ave., Cleveland OH

Bruka Theatre - 7:00 pm
99 N. Virgina St., Reno NV

Mitchell Theatre, Vilas Hall - 7:00 pm
University of Wisconsin - Madison, WI

Museum of History & Industry - 7:00 pm
presented by Global Works
2700 24th Ave. East, Seattle WA

Syracuse University Drama Department - 7:00 pm
Archibald Theatre, 820 E. Genesee St., Syracuse NY

Spotlight "Still Got It" Players - 7:00 pm
Village Theatre at Cherry Hill
5400 Cherry Hill Rd., Canton, MI

Atlantic Stage, 79th Avenue Theatre - 7:30 pm
900 79th Ave N, Myrtle Beach SC

Great Basin College - 7:30 pm
1500 College Parkway, Elko NV

Dell'Arte International - 8:00 pm
Carlo Theatre, 131 H Street, Bluelake CA

Random Radio People broadcast - 8:00 pm
KMUD radio 91.1 FM

The Blank Theatre's Living Room Series - 8:00 pm
2nd Stage Theatre, 6500 Santa Moncia Blvd., Hollywood CA

The Desert Rose Playhouse - time TBD
6921 Montgomery Blvd. NE, Albuquerque NM

Le Petomane Theatre Ensemble - time TBD
Iroquois Ampitheater, 1080 Ampitheater Rd., Louisville KY

The Rogue Theatre - time TBD
300 E. University Blvd., Tucson AZ

The Ghost Road Company & Trade City Productions --7:30 PM
The Village Green Clubhouse
5300 Rodeo Road, Baldwin Hills, CA 90016 www.facebook.com\ghostroadcompany

Fuse Theatre Ensemble--7:30 PM
Arena Stage, Theater
Portland, OR

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25th - 6:30 pm

Locust Productions, Kirkwood Theatre
400 Walnut St., Des Moines IA

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26th - 8:00 pm

The Antaeus Company, DeafWest Theater
5114 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood CA

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27th - 1-6 pm (GMT)
ARTEL (American-Russian Theatre Ensemble Laboratory), Leeds
Alec Clegg Studio, Leeds, UK

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Allen Theatre

Euclid Avenue, 1927

The Allen Theatre opened its doors on April 1, 1921, just four days after the Hanna, rounding out the five primary theaters of what was soon after referred to as Playhouse Square.

This 2,500 seat house, named for Canadian-born owners Jay and Jules Allen, was constructed to be exclusively a movie palace. It was long and narrow, with a vast, deep balcony, and absolutely no stage or backstage space. The original capacity was for an audience of 3,000.

"With the house lights on, the ceiling suggested a cloudy blue sky; when the lights dimmed, twinkling stars appeared. In place of boxes, six side windows were softly lit from behind to suggest twilight outside." - John Vacha, Showtime In Cleveland
When the city was deteriorating, the Allen was the first Playhouse Square theater to close, in March 1968. The Ohio, State and Palace followed soon after. When these other Euclid Avenue theaters were saved and restored during the 1970s and 80s, the Allen's fate was still unclear. In the 1990s a new developer wanted to make it a parking lot.

Yes. Really. Still, even in the 1990s, there was talk of taking down buildings to create that all so unavailable parking in downtown Cleveland. In any event, it didn't happen, cabaret shows kept the place occupied for a time, before an actual theater space (stage, backstage, fly system, &c.) was created in 1998 for the musical Jolson. Or The Lion King, if you believe the woman who led my tour the other day. The Allen played home to the Cleveland Orchestra during is 1999-2000 season, while Severance Hall was being renovated.

Lady said "Lion King."

Unfortunately, the auditorium of the Allen was never truly reconfigured for live performance. The balcony ran almost half the length of the hall, making seats beneath it feel cave-like and a bit dreary. For a hall built in the 1920s, it was remarkably well-suited for rock music, and a popular concert venue. One of the few times I have ever attended a performance there it was a few years ago when Josh and I went to see The Musical Box, a Genesis cover band recreate the 1975 Lamb Lies Down on Broadway tour.

Slipperman.

This weekend, the Allen takes on new life as the home of Cleveland Play House. Abandoning the home they now refer to unceremoniously as simply the 8500 Space, the Play House is taking a bold new step, joining forces with Playhouse Square and becoming part of a downtown Cleveland landscape which, in spite of any apparent or rational economic explanation, continues to grow.

Of course, Clevelanders are notorious sticks-in-the-mud. We despise change. And CPH Artistic Director Michael Bloom has had to deal with two issues on that front; selling a move into the heart of darkest downtown to subscribers who haven't been there since Stokes was elected, and also adapting a space with its own rich history and beauty.

Allen, before redesign.

How the successfully the first challenge is addressed remains to be seen. As for the Allen, the project director of the design firm was quoted in Cleveland Scene:
"We always wanted to maintain a visual link to the historic walls of the original structure, and that is the most unique aspect of the new Allen Theatre, where we are inserting a modern aesthetic while preserving many of the traditional details and elements."
So how do you take a 2,500+ house, reduce capacity to a fifth that size, and preserve the original design elements?


First, you paint it orange.

To be continued ...

Sources:
Showtime In Cleveland
cleveland.com
Cleveland Scene

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Musicarnival


There was a fad sweeping the post-War American - the tent theater! I had no idea. In Warrensville Heights that meant the establishment of the venerable MUSICARNIVAL in 1954.

The mast-and-cable tent structure remained year-round (next to Thistledown racetrack) but only in the temperature months would the tent go up, providing cover for musical acts and originally produced productions for a potential 1,500 patrons (when it originally opened - this number would grow to 2,500 in later years) seated in the round.

The first production, Oklahoma! opened on June 25, 1954.

Sunday afternoon jazz concerts were very popular.

Sources:
Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
Doing Hard Time in Shaker Heights
The Music Went 'Round and Around (John Vacha)