Showing posts with label Showtime in Cleveland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Showtime in Cleveland. 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.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Wayward Angel (2000)

"Old Stone Church"
(Late 20th Century)

The First Presbyterian Church of Cleveland, known for almost two centuries as the Old Stone Church sits at 91 Public Square the corner of Rockwell and Ontario. Constructed from 1831 to 1833, Old Stone has a long, illustrious history, and a complicated relationship with the theater.

There goes the neighborhood.
Reverend Samuel C. Aiken gave a sermon in 1836 condemning the theater as houses of sin. In 1883 a theatre called The Park opened next door. Three months later a gas explosion destroyed that theater, and burned down the Old Stone Church along with it. The church was rebuilt, but so was the theatre, which was renamed The Lyceum, opening in 1895.

By the end of the 20th century the Old Stone was by far the oldest building remaining on Public Square. For over a hundred years the building had lacked a spire, since its second one was destroyed after another fire in 1884. It wasn't until 1998 that a replica spire was erected, and the Berea sandstone of the building which had been blackened over the years was cleaned. Suddenly, this rather stern looking church was given a vibrant new appearance.

Around that time I had just turned thirty, and my friends and I were making theater in and around downtown under the name Bad Epitaph Theater Company. We presented contemporary version of Hamlet and Lysistrata, and in late 1999 staged the first Cleveland-area production The Santaland Diaries for our first "holiday play."

For any theater company, the holiday production is key. For some reason, people who never see theater the rest of the year will come out for a pageant of some kind, and every local company competes for Christmastime cash. Some theaters depend upon their Solstice cash-cow to pay for the rest of their programming. We found something which fit with what we felt at the time was our urbane, Gen-X point of view in David Sedaris's tribute to horrible part-time work.

The plan was to remount this production in 2000, and to make a lot of money. However, it was also decided to present a second holiday show, The Wayward Angel. This one-act was written in the early 1960s as a television script for a local station, though we never could discover which one. Some said it was for PBS, but there was no PBS in those days. The playwright, Thomas P. Cullinan, wrote for KYW-TV (now WKYC, our NBC affiliate) and it may have originally been broadcast there. The show was tapped for national distribution, but there were copyright issues regarding music performed or played during the broadcast, and the recording was shelved, probably taped over, and most likely lost to history.

I didn't see why, when we already had a corner on the hippest new holiday show available, that we had to present two Christmas shows, and besides, The Wayward Angel, the story of a near-fallen angel who tries to get right with the Lord by crashing the Messiah's birth, only to crash-land off the coast of Celtic Ireland and unintentionally plant the seeds of Christianity on the Emerald Isle ... well, it made me a little sick.

But Thomas W. Cullinan, the playwright's son, was one of our artistic collaborators. And there was a great part for Nick. However, I insisted that if we were to present a Christmas pageant, then as Charlie Brown said, "We're going to do this play, and we're going to do it right." It would be free and open to the public, soliciting donations to cover the costs of production and anything left over we would donate to some worthy cause.

Since the days of Reverend Aiken the Old Stone Church has embraced the arts and has strong artistic programming. In the late 20th Century the director of the Faith & Arts Series was David Gooding, formerly of the Cleveland Play House, and a connection to members of our artistic team. By mid-year we had already checked out the space and determined that while the 700-seat sanctuary would not be appropriate, the fellowship hall on the lower level would be ideal.

Nick Koesters, Face-down on the floor. Again.
And a modest Christmas pageant it was. With the curtains of its little stage closed, the room appeared the familiar, utilitarian church hall; tile floors, big round tables with table cloths. Poinsettias on each table. Arabica donated coffee and a large tray of brownies and carrot cake for each evening's performance, which were offered to patrons for free. A half-hour before the performance, musicians played a charming selection of Celtic tunes before the curtains parted to reveal a startlingly complete box-set of a hut carved into the stage. The performance itself lasted about 45 minutes.

Now. The Old Stone Church is located across Public Square from Tower City, which in those days was still being frequented by suburban shoppers in significant numbers. But how many would cross the square after dark to explore a forbidding looking stone church in downtown Cleveland, or park their car on the street to come and join us?
"It's a wisely observed, elegiac little piece, leavened by Cullinan's unforced statement and wry humor." - James Damico, The Free Times

"It's a small story, and a brief drama. But it will also leave the viewer humbled and thankful in this busy season of rampant consumerism." - Tony Brown, The Plain Dealer
Nick was singled out for his surprising quietness.

The room sat over one hundred, we were full most nights, and in the final days before Christmas, it was standing room only. Admission was the request that everyone bring at least one non-perishable food item for the Old Stone Church Food Pantry, but we received in excess of 2,000 food items. People were also very generous with their cash, as we covered our costs and had $1,000 left over to provide to the Food Pantry.

Mimi Rodriguez
Closing night, the house was packed. One audience member came up to us to explain how they had just been over at Tower City, and all they wanted was some peaceful and enjoyable Christmas entertainment and that this was perfect. There were grandparents and lots of children. My wife attended, she was very pregnant with our first child. It was the night before Christmas Eve.

It was all very sweet and sentimental, far from the arch and bitter amusements that had been my source of creativity since childhood. I could imagine a future in this emotional place, embracing family and hope, though circumstances made it necessary for me to wait a while longer.

Sources:
Showtime in Cleveland (John Vacha)
Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
Old Stone Church website
Wikipedia

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

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Euclid-77th Street Theatre

During the 1930s and 40s, Cleveland Play House Artistic Director Frederic McConnell had a problem to tackle, namely that his theater had grown too big for the Brooks and Drury theatres -- he needed a third stage.

After a few opportunities fell through, CPH finally acquired a former Christian Science space on Euclid Avenue at East 77th Street, a building which remains today, appearing something like a domed mosque though it has never been one.

McConnell and his architects created something unique and rare in Cleveland theater history - a thrust stage!
"I never saw a theater in which the sight lines were clearer. The stage is semi-circular, and the audience is bestowed around three sides of the stage. It is altogether different from the ordinary picture-frame theater. It brings audiences into closer contact with the players and will form a wonderful background for certain types of plays, such as those of Shakespeare." - William F. McDermott
The Euclid-77th Street Theatre did, in fact, feature the works of William Shakespeare when it opened on October 15, 1949 with a production of Romeo and Juliet and for a time the Bard was an annual fixture in the CPH season, in this 560-seat auditorium.

It was on this wide, open stage that CPH presented the Cleveland premiere of The Crucible in 1954.

The Play House abandoned this location in 1983 when it invested in Philip Johnson's $14-million dollar money pit, which left the organization with three adjacent prosceniums, each chronologically less charming than the one that came before.

Sources:
Showtime in Cleveland (John Vacha)
Cleveland Memory Project

Monday, January 24, 2011

McDermott's end

"He was a pale, round-faced, little man, with a skyscraper forehead, small hands, thin fingers, and an unexercised body, who kept puffing cigars as if he were laying down a barrage. But he had a cherub's bright smile, eyes bright as searchlights, and a giant's courage." - John Mason Brown, New York Evening Post critic
McDermott retired from the Plain Dealer in 1957, as he approached his 67th birthday. He was ill for most of the 1950s, once famously treated to a private performance of Katherine Cornell's production of Captain Carvello in his Bratenahl apartment in 1951 when he was too sickly to make the trip downtown.

William F. McDermott died in 1958.

Sources:
Leaps of faith (Chloe Warner Oldenberg)
Showtime in Cleveland

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Ostriches

People’s Theater Plays
The Cleveland Citizen, December 6, 1935

The People’s Theatre will present “The Ostriches” … a brilliant comedy on war written by Rudolph Wittenberg, who recently came to this country from Germany. The Theatre itself was organized last June to present plays of social importance to a vast audience of people who have never seen their own lives portrayed in the theatre.

Many unions have given their endorsement and a great number saw performances of an earlier production, the stirring “Waiting For Lefty,” which has revolutionized American theatre of today, both in method of presentation and in subject. Also a great number of unions in Cleveland have seen “Union Label,” a short skit which is part of its mobile theatre. In one week a play was written and rehearsed by the People’s Theatre and performed in conjunction with the Union Buyers’ Club at a benefit for the (Brunk) strikers.

War is declared in Europe and two neighbors in America join in hand-to-hand combat on their own territory. After being reconciled in jail they decide to prevent the horrors of war reaching this country by forming the “International Peace Co.” Interspaced with scene of hilarious comedy are realistic flashbacks which are signaled by descending sirens.

As the theatre was founded for the workingmen, the admissions price of 35 cents is also with his budget.
The Ostriches as translated by Howard Da Silva, opened on December 23 in a former nightclub at 4300 Carnegie. The opening night performance was delayed forty minutes (accompanied by the sounds of hammering backstage) and when the curtain finally rose you could see the wet paint on the just-completed set.
The People's Theatre is not aligned with any political party. That is the euphemistic way of saying that it is not Communistic, and its organizers wish you to be clear about that. - William F. McDermott, The Plain Dealer
Sources:
The Cleveland Citizen
The Plain Dealer
Showtime in Cleveland (Vacha)

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

It Cannot Happen Here



“Written? Too mild a word. The play was created by polygenesis.”
- Hallie Flanagan, Arena

Telegrams …
Denver: WHERE IS REVISED VERSION ACT THREE LEWIS PLAY RUSH IMMEDIATELY.

Chicago: NEW ENDING REVISED ACT THREE LEWIS PLAY DOES NOT MAKE SENSE PLEASE ADVISE

Tampa: SPANISH COMPANY RESTIVE CANNOT LEARN LINES BY OCTOBER 27 UNLESS RECEIVE FULL TEXT PLAY IMMEDIATELY

San Francisco: OBJECT TO CUTTING WHITE HOUSE SCENE ONLY GOOD SCENE LEWIS PLAY

Nebraska: PERSON IN HIGH PLACE CONSIDERS WHITE HOUSE SCENE QUOTE ILL-ADVISED UNQUOTE LETTER FOLLOWS

Los Angeles: MAKING SUPERHUMAN EFFORTS TO MEET OCTOBER 27 LEWIS PLAY STOP IMPERATIVE HAVE NO MORE REVISIONS STOP STOP
William Watts, San Francisco production director …
The chief obstacle was the script itself - because of its hurried and superficial writing.
Orders from Washington to all productions …
… avoid all controversial issues - political angles of any degree - special appeals - racial or group appeals - or inferences in any of these directions, since Federal Theatre is interested only in presenting good theatre, neither adapting nor assuming any viewpoint beyond presenting a new and vital drama of our times, emerging from the social and economic forces of the day …

Also forbidden in most positive terms are any references to any foreign power, any policy of a foreign power, the personalities of any foreign power or government; any comparison between the United States and any specific foreign power, system, personality, etc. Our business is with a play of our time and country by a great writer of our time and country and our job is wholly a job of theatre.
A phone call from Sinclair Lews on the morning of October 25 …
I haven’t slept all night - for the matter of that as yiou know I haven’t slept for weeks. Nobody can say I haven’t given everything to the Federal Theatre … Now it is all terrible - everybody has gone into a coma … I want you to get right on the train and come to New York and postpone the play a week and get new people to do everything, or do it yourself. It is all terrible. It is all a failure.
Dorothea Lynch, Florida Project director …
We didn’t have the last act until it was just about the time to start. Then it came, without who was to say what.
Telegram evening of October 27 …
Cleveland: RESPONSIVE AUDIENCE KEYING UP FOR PERFORMANCE APPLAUSE AFTER FIRST ACT TREMENDOUS

The Plain Dealer - October 28
Sometimes it moves slowly, but it moves. On the whole it is a satisfactory production of a propaganda play that is worth doing.
- William McDermott

Sources:
Arena by Hallie Flanagan (1940)
Showtime In Cleveland
Free, Adult, Uncensored

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Comedy of Errors

When two twin brothers and their two twin servants are unexpectedly reunited after three decades apart, the unsuspecting port of Syracuse is torn apart at its seams. With a zany cast of unforgettable characters and a myriad of mistaken identities, Shakespeare’s greatest comedy delivers triumphantly on its famous title. - Great Lakes Theater Festival synopsis of Shakespeare's "The Comedy of Errors" (2009)
"The Blackfriars Company" performing at the Old Globe Theatre at the Great Lakes Exposition presented six abbreviated adaptations of Shakespeare's work in the summer of 1936. Their production of The Comedy of Errors clocked in at "a mind-blurring thirty-six minutes" (Vacha)

The eighteen member company included the young Sam Wanamaker. You would think that such a small company for a Shakespearean comedy would afford plenty of opportunities for the 17 year-old Chicagoan actor to have at least an interesting supporting role. Alas, the program lists him double-cast as "a guard" and "attendant." In Julius Caesar he is Second Citizen ("Peace, silence! Brutus speaks.").

I believe that is him pictured above, center, trying to be seen amongst all the hats.

Source: Showtime In Cleveland

Friday, January 29, 2010

Langston Hughes

James Mercer Langston Hughes, (February 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967) was born in Joplin, Missouri, but spent most of his childhood with his grandmother in Lawrence, Kansas. After her death, he eventually reunited with his mother and and they and his step-father moved to Cleveland, where he attended high school.
The Hughes' home in Cleveland was sold in foreclosure in 2009; the 2.5-story, wood-frame house on the city's east side was sold at a sheriff's auction in February for $16,667. - Wikipedia
Hughes had relocated to New York and gained success on Broadway with Mulatto, when he accepted the position of playwright in residence at Karamu House from 1936 to 1939, a position only recently-revived and currently held by Michael Oatman.

In 1936 alone several of his plays received world premieres, including Little Ham (opened March 24) about a Harlem numbers game. Plain Dealer critic William McDermott said, "as a folk-picture of Harlem life it is rich in character in humor."

Other premieres included When Jack Hollers (written with Arna Bontemps, the cast included Margaret Williams as Queen Esther, Jack Stewart as Bogator, Paul Banks as Rev. Lovelady, William Day as Jerico, Don McGregor as Sid Lowery and Nolan Bell as Arcie) and Troubled Island, a "historical panorama" about Haiti that had a cast of sixty-five and was later adapted into an opera by William Grant Still.

When I was an actor-educator at Karamu in 1991, the offices for the education department were in the space previously occupied by Hughes' old apartment.

To this day Karamu produces Langston Hughes' Black Nativity during the holidays.

Sources:
Wikipedia
Showtime in Cleveland

Sunday, January 10, 2010

It Can't Happen Here

"It Can't Happen Here" is a semi-satirical political novel by Sinclair Lewis published in 1935. It features newspaperman Doremus Jessup struggling against the fascist regime of President Berzelius "Buzz" Windrip. In 1936, Lewis and John C. Moffitt wrote a stage version which is still produced. The stage version premiered on October 27, 1936 in several U.S. cities simultaneously, in productions sponsored by the Federal Theater Project. - Wikipedia

The play opened in 18 different cities, including a Cleveland production at the Carter Theater on East 9th Street, directed by Theodore Veihman. This production brought the story from Vermont to central Ohio, and included references to Akron and Cleveland.

The three-week run featured the Federal Music Project Marching Band on its sold-out opening night, and critic William McDermott (no fan of the FTP) wrote in the Plain Dealer that the show "sometimes moves slowly, but it moves." - Showtime in Cleveland
"We Want to do 'It Can't Happen Here' because it is a play by one of our most distinguished American writers. We want to do it because it is a play about American life today, based on a passionate belief in American democracy.

The play says that when dictatorship comes to threaten such a democracy, it comes in a harmless guise, with parades and promises; but that when such dictatorship arrives, the promises are not kept and the parade grounds become encampments.

We want to do 'It Can't Happen Here' because, like Doremus Jessup and his creator, Sinclair Lewis, we, as American citizens and as workers in a theatre sponsored by the government of the United States, should like to do what we can to keep alive the 'free, inquiring, critical spirit' which is the center and core of a democracy."

- Hallie Flanagan
from "Free, adult, uncensored: The living history of the Federal Theatre Project"
Would you know a dictatorship coming if you saw one? I mean ... really?

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Old Globe Theatre

Showtime in Cleveland: The Rise of a Regional Theater Center by John Vacha has a section on the Old Globe Theatre exhibit at the Great Lakes Exposition. There were approximately 30 actors employed for $15 a week, presenting six to eight of these performances (which ran 30 minutes to an hour) every day.

The repertoire included Julius Caesar, The Taming of the Shrew, The Comedy of Errors, As You Like It, A Midsummer Night's Dream and Henry VIII.

Henry VIII? WTF?

Reports suggest it was hard going early in the season, pulling in tiny audiences but by the end of the summer they were playing for hundreds of exposition visitors.

Now here's the weird thing ... I found an Old Globe facsimile playbill as I was cleaning my desk last month, and I have completely forgotten where I got it, I do not know if I printed it online, if someone dropped it off for me, or what, I simply cannot remember. But it does include a list of the company for some of the shows and I would like to follow-up on as many names as I can.

There are two stand-outs in the ensemble, from an historical perspective, including Arthur Kennedy, who went on to originate the role of Biff in Death of a Salesman and was also in the original production of The Crucible. David Wayne also went onto greater success in Broadway productions of Finian's Rainbow and Mr. Roberts.

And then there's young Sam Wanamaker, who at the age of seventeen played mostly "spearcarriers" even in these abbreviated productions. He would later act and direct in films, become a target of HUAC, and most notably establish Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London.