"Despite the Pandemic, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like 'Christmas Carol'"

 by Jerald Raymond Pierce

[For weeks now, I’ve been seeing television commercials for a solo performance of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol featuring Tony-winning actor Jefferson Mays channeling at least 50 characters.  As you’ll see from Jerald Raymond Pierce’s report “Despite the Pandemic, It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like ‘Christmas Carol’” (American Theatre 3 Dec. 2020, https://www.americantheatre.org/2020/12/03/despite-the-pandemic-its-beginning-to-look-a-lot-like-christmas-carol/), posted below, Mays’s adaptation is just one of many renderings of the Dickens classic across the country during this pandemic-dominated holiday season. 

[(For more about Mays, see my report on “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder,” posted on Rick On Theater on 16 October 2014, and “The Front Page,” 16 November 2016; and the compilation “Jefferson Mays, Chameleonic Actor,” 31 October 2014.  AT also has a 2018 interview with Mays on his Dickensian production by Diep Tran, “Jefferson Mays Is Doing ‘A Christmas Carol,’ By Himself,” at https://www.americantheatre.org/2018/11/06/jefferson-mays-is-doing-a-christmas-carol-by-himself/.)

[Mays’s staging is a filmed version that began streaming worldwide beginning 28 November.  It was adapted by Mays and his wife Susan Lyons, and two-time Tony-nominee Michael Arden (Spring Awakening, Once On This Island), who also directed; Mays conceived the piece with Tony-nominee Dane Laffrey.  The production was filmed at New York City’s United Palace, a cultural and performing arts center in Washington Heights, and is based on the 2018 world première at Los Angeles’s Geffen Playhouse.

[At the time of his interview two years ago, long before the coronavirus made its devastating appearance, Mays declared:

I think [Christmas Carol] is probably the greatest secular humanist text ever written.  It’s particularly useful now to be reminded about things like charity and mercy and forbearance and benevolence and kindness and decency, and to ask the questions, “What makes a good life?  What is important in life?”  The basic human touchstones.  I think it’s useful to be reminded of them.

[How much more significant are all those issues now!  They apply not only while we’re suffering under the burdensome restrictions of COVID-19, but its threat to our health and lives—and, at the same time, we’re experiencing a rocky transition of political leadership that threatens our very governmental and social system. 

[That may be precisely why A Christmas Carol is such a popular holiday offering perennially—and why so many theaters around the country put in the often prodigious effort to bring the story to their audiences this year.  Here’s Pierce’s round-up of the innovative ways American theaters are meeting that perceived need.]

Amid the constraints of social distancing, perhaps more urgently because of them, many U.S. theatres are finding ways to bring audiences an annual dose of Dickens.

A tradition unlike any other. No, not the Masters, despite Jim Nantz’s claim to the trademarked phrase. Annually, theatres across the country mount renditions of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, a holiday production that can anchor a theatre financially, opening doors for bigger artistic risks in the rest of the season. But in the middle of a pandemic, when wallets are tight enough as it is, many theatres are keeping the tradition alive—less because of its potential box-office bounty than because, after nine months in a punishing pandemic, a story celebrating compassion and charity feels sorely needed. And after nearly a year of canceled performances, maintaining or reconstituting the connection between theatres and audiences doesn’t hurt either, even as some of the pain of this time is finding its way into some theatres’ adaptations.

“It’s a beloved tradition,” said Milwaukee Repertory Theater artistic director Mark Clements (he/him) of his theatre’s production, which brings in nearly 40,000 people annually. “People always call it a cash cow. It’s actually not as big of a cash cow as people think, but it’s an important stream of income. The tradition is very, very important in Milwaukee. It’s often the first live theatre experience outside of say children’s theatre that a lot of kids have access to.”

To keep Milwaukee Rep’s 46-year tradition of producing an Ebenezer Scrooge ghost story alive, the theatre had originally planned to present Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol, Tom Mula’s one-person adaptation, which follows Marley’s effort to redeem his former business partner, in front of a socially distanced live audience. But with the coronavirus showing no signs of slowing down, the theatre canceled live performances of the Clements-directed Mula adaptation, and did as many theatres have done this year: They shifted to a digital option.

The plan is now to record the Lee E. Ernst-starring one-person version of Carol. Clements, in an interview before the Thanksgiving holiday, joked that despite them being three weeks into rehearsal, he only ever saw Ernst’s eyes in the rehearsal room, due to mask safety measures. The production, which Clements said they were aiming at recording on stage on Dec. 5 with a soundscape from foley artist Dan Kazemi, will run Dec. 10-24 at $20 per household.

Milwaukee Rep is not alone in its need to cancel in-person plans, nor is it alone in offering a one-person adaptation in a year where human interaction onstage is more worrisome than jolly. In Staunton, Va., American Shakespeare Center was similarly faced with the reality of needing to cancel performances for an in-person audience [see my Rick On Theater reports on this company dated 18 and 21 Nov. 2009 and the NewsHour report posted on ROT on 18 Oct. 2020]. Their adjustment, though, has been to use a small ensemble who have been in a “work bubble” for a production that will stream live on Dec. 4 before being available on ASC’s streaming service BlkFrsTV.

The most notable of the one-person offerings is of course the version adapted by and starring Tony winner Jefferson Mays, which was released on Nov. 28 [see the ROT profile of Mays on 31 Oct. 2014]. With proceeds benefiting community and regional theatre impacted by COVID-19, theatres across the country have signed on to bring the production to their audiences, including Huntington Theatre Company, La Jolla Playhouse, Geffen Playhouse, South Coast Repertory, and more. 

For its part, Milwaukee Rep’s digital plans didn’t stop with the one Christmas Carol. As Clements explained, the theatre also wanted to make sure the show would be available for children, and to underrepresented areas of the city who would normally be able to see the production for free through Milwaukee Rep programming. So, through Dec. 24, Milwaukee Rep is offering its 2016 production of A Christmas Carol, adapted and directed by Clements, to view online for free for anyone looking for the large-cast iteration they know and love. 

Meanwhile, Writers Theatre in Glencoe, Ill., has also gone the double offering route with its Two Scrooges: A Christmas Carol, Two Ways. The first is a one-person show starring artistic director Michael Halberstam in his adaptation of A Christmas Carol, last seen onstage in 2008. The production, directed by Stanton Long, will run Dec. 8-Jan. 3, 2021, with tickets ranging $15-$50, depending on the number of viewers.

The second is a co-commissioned adaptation from Chicago’s Manual Cinema, Chicago’s acclaimed performance collective, known for their shadow puppetry and cinematic techniques. They don’t typically find themselves in a position to take on the classic Dickens tale, due to touring conflicts, according to Julia Miller (she/her), one of the company’s five co-artistic directors. This year, a combination of the constraints of the pandemic and the troupe’s love for The Muppet Christmas Carol opened the door for the company to try its hand, so to speak.

As Miller explained, Manual Cinema’s production has been created not to distract from the reality of pandemic limitations or shy away from Zoom fatigue, but to embrace the reality of how many families are gathering this year. Using Zoom as a frame, their undertaking follows the fictional Aunt Trudy as she attempts to perform A Christmas Carol, a task usually taken on by her partner, who died earlier in the year, over Zoom.

“We’re trying to speak directly to the fact that people can’t celebrate holidays this year together in the same way,” Miller explained. “She’s trying to carry on his memory and the tradition for the family, and then goes on her own Scrooge-like self-discovery of learning that family is important and connecting is important even though it’s not possible to do it in person. I hope people find a little comfort and a little connection through our adaptation of the show.”

Manual Cinema’s Christmas Carol, co-written by Miller and her co-artistic directors Drew Dir, Sarah Fornace, Ben Kauffman, and Kyle Vegter, with puppet design by Dir and Lizi Breit, is scheduled to run through Dec. 20, with ticket prices starting at $15. The production will be performed live from Manual Cinema’s studio, which posed a challenge for a group used to performing with five or six puppeteers and four or five musicians in close proximity. Working through safety procedures that include separating musicians from puppeteers from Aunt Trudy, each in their own individual corners of the space, Manual Cinema’s world premiere production will be presented all over the country through university and regional theatre co-commissioners and presenting partners.

Similarly not shying away from the Zoom realities of 2020 is Houston’s Alley Theatre, which is offering a virtual production of A Christmas Carol featuring actors who have filmed themselves in their homes with props, costumes, and equipment delivered to their door. This Doris Baizley adaptation follows a company of actors who, without their sets, attempt to tell a holiday story despite the circumstances. (The Cratchits [. . .] are all played by members of the same family, who’ve been “bubbling” together.)

As the situation evolved around the Alley’s production plans—seeing the anticipated Carol go from plans for socially distanced performances in a theatre to a virtual at-home reality—artistic director Rob Melrose (he/him) said the company worked with Baizley to adjust lines to adapt to the pandemic’s restrictions. Then, Melrose explained, managing director Dean Gladden had the idea to offer it as a free holiday gift to the Houston community and beyond.

“We already have 90,000 registrations for people to see it,” Melrose said in November. “It’s already going to be the most seen Alley production in our 74-year history.”

Additionally, Melrose said, this production is gearing up to be the Alley’s most accessible production in other ways, with subtitles translated into multiple languages. The free production will run Dec. 4-27. Melrose pointed out that one value of A Christmas Carol is that it asks and allows audience members to annually take stock in their lives and reflect on what they have.

“It’s a show that really makes you count your blessings and be grateful for the gift of life, the community you have, and the family you have around you,” said Melrose. “It makes sense why people come back to it year after year, and why it’s so particularly important this year.”

Many theatres are bringing that annual introspection directly into the home through digital offerings. Hartford Stage in Connecticut is bringing theatremakers and community neighbors together to create A Community Carol, to stream live for free on Dec. 17, followed by a four-day on-demand streaming period. Summoners Ensemble Theatre in New York City is working with the historic Merchant’s House Museum to stream a classic retelling of A Christmas Carol filmed in the storied city landmark. The Summoners Ensemble production will stream Dec. 18-24 for free, with a suggested donation of $30 for those able to give.

Those interested in something a little off the beaten path may be interested in People’s Light’s offering of A Christmas Carol in concert, featuring original music from Zak Berkman, carols, and readings from Dickens’ work, streaming Dec. 8-Jan. 3, 2021, with tickets starting at $25. Or, if extremely strapped for time but still jonesing for a holiday treat, NY Classical Theatre is presenting a reunion reading of A {15-Min!} Christmas Carol. Two actors, with the help of everything from puppets to wooden spoons, will tell the story of Scrooge, as adapted and directed by Stephen Burdman. The free production will stream Dec. 17-20. 

When artistic director Sarah Rasmussen (she/her) joined the McCarter Theatre Center in August, the conversation around Carol had already begun to shift away from in-person possibilities and to ideas of how the company could share the story with patrons at home. The thought of sharing the script for families to enjoy came up. But while some families might enjoy the DIY experience, the McCarter wondered if others would find the idea of having a full two-act play dropped in their laps during the holidays a bit overwhelming.

“I started to circle around the idea of an at-home ritual,” Rasmussen said, “where there’d be some abridged readings from this beloved story, but then also a way for people to engage with each other and really reflect on both the story and this extraordinarily challenging year.”

The result, Rasmussen explained, was to create something along the lines of A Christmas Carol meets a seder. The McCarter created gift boxes people could purchase that had abridged scripts, suggestions on doubling parts depending on the size of the family, and conversation cards that featured a Dickens quote on one side and a discussion prompt on the other. From there, families can allow their creativity to run wild with the story while simultaneously being able to reflect on meaningful questions.

“What we love about live performance is that something surprising can happen,” Rasmussen said. “I love the idea of people at home maybe seeing someone in their friends or family group acting who they wouldn’t expect to see acting, or hearing answers that might illuminate things about relationships. It’s really about gratitude and giving back to one’s community, and that feels very poignant in the winter of 2020.”

Rasmussen noted that not only have families bought these boxes for themselves, they’ve also had boxes shipped to family members so that far-flung relations can participate together over Zoom. The popularity of the McCarter’s A Christmas Carol @Home has resulted in a sell-out of available boxes by the early days of December. After all, Rasmussen said, in a year like this, many people are simply looking to create some sense of normalcy and a creative way to do that has been to find new ways to bring families together.

If a family is still itching to get out of the house for their dose of Dickens, some companies are turning to the drive-in for their winter tradition. In addition to its streaming option, American Shakespeare Center is offering a filmed performance as a drive-in movie presentation on Dec. 12 and Dec. 20 in Lexington, Va., and as a classic cinema experience through Visulite Cinemas Dec. 18-24. In Atlanta, Alliance Theatre has turned to the drive-in to present A Christmas Carol: The Live Radio Play, co-adapted by Leora Morris and Ben Coleman, with Morris directing. Staged for the first time as an interactive drive-in experience, the Alliance production will run Dec. 4-23, with tickets beginning at $50 per car.

Meanwhile, if it’s an aural Carol that will satisfy your holiday yearning, theatres across the country have that option at the ready too. Chicago’s Goodman Theatre is streaming Tom Creamer’s adaptation of the tale, directed by Jessica Thebus and featuring an all-Chicago cast, for free through Dec. 31. And San Francisco’s American Conservatory Theater is streaming Carey Perloff and Paul Walsh’s adaptation, A Christmas Carol: On Air, Dec. 4-31 with tickets ranging from $40-60. Peter J. Kuo will direct.

The St. Louis Shakespeare Festival is combining the urge to get out of the house with a unique audio experience, created by the Q Brothers Collective. A Walking Xmas Carol invites audience members to take a 21-stop stroll by window displays designed by PaintedBlack STL, a group that earlier this year worked with local Black artists to paint murals on boarded-up businesses. Artistic director Tom Ridgley (he/him) and company had also worked with PaintedBlack STL on A Late Summer Night’s Stroll, which featured curated archways, loosely inspired by Shakespeare’s midsummer tale, for participants to walk through.

“When we were looking ahead to the holidays,” Ridgely said, “we knew it was going to be a long, hard road, without so much of what makes that time of year festive, enjoyable, and even bearable. The holidays can be a rough time for folks. The same way it felt like people over the summer were hungering for something like that, it seemed like, what can we do that will give people a chance to get out in the distant presence of other people and experience something in real life?”

Of all the activities that can feel at least somewhat safe during COVID-19, Ridgely noted, taking walks has been one that has kept a lot of people sane. So, Ridgely, PaintedBlack STL, and company went about transforming vacant storefronts into a way to experience the beauty of A Christmas Carol. And having already worked with the Chicago-based Q Brothers on Dress the Part, the troupe’s take on Two Gentlemen of Verona, to start the year, Ridgley said they had already been discussing bringing the collective’s take on Dickens to St. Louis.

With an audio companion recorded by the Q Brothers serving as a story guide, participants have the opportunity to use QR codes placed at each window display and their phones to take a walking tour through a contemporary take on the holiday classic. The experience, running through Dec. 23, is free for all those who are interested.

There’s something comforting about a slew of Christmas Carol productions popping up throughout the country at this fraught time—something familiar and welcome. Perhaps it’s just the underlying longing for some sense of normalcy that theatrical traditions can provide. After all, companies across the country are also still finding ways to mount The Nutcracker, even if that means streaming it on the side of a building. But there’s still something grounding about A Christmas Carol that goes beyond the Tiny Tims and Scrooges who take the stage every year. It’s the gathering: of family, friends, and theatremakers around a story that begs us all to take stock of what we share while we have it. In a year where feeling distant is all too common, it’s refreshing to be able to come together a little closer, even virtually, around a common theme. Dickens bless us, everyone.

[Jerald Raymond Pierce is associate editor at American Theatre.  He studied acting at Ohio University and received his M.A. in arts journalism from Syracuse University.  A member of the American Theatre Critics Association (ATCA), Pierce is also a freelance reviewer for the Chicago Tribune.]

Some Out-Of-Town Plays from the Archive

 

OTHELLO
by William Shakespeare
The Shakespeare Theatre at the Folger (Washington, D.C.)
Folger Theatre
27 November 1990-27 January 1991 

[In the 1980s, my father sat on the board of what was then the Folger Theatre Group (and later, The Folger Theatre) in Washington, D.C.  During that time, my parents were loyal patrons of the troupe’s productions, staged in the two-thirds-scale Elizabethan Theatre within the esteemed Folger Shakespeare Library on Capitol Hill.  Whenever I was in Washington, I went with them.  Over the years, I saw many Folger shows, some reports on which have landed on Rick On Theater.

[Over the years, the theater company changed names several times, changed venue once, and added a large second house.  I won’t go over the company’s history now, but in 1986, the theater completely reorganized, brought in a new artistic director, Michael Kahn, and changed its name to The Shakespeare Theatre at the Folger.  (In 1992, the company became the Shakespeare Theatre Company—and finally, simply The Shakespeare Theatre; see the report on Much Ado About Nothing, below—and took up residence in the Lansburgh Theatre in downtown Washington.) 

[My dad left the theater’s board in 1986 with the departure of the previous artistic director, John Neville-Andrews, but my folks remained avid attendees of STC productions.  One of the company’s last productions at the Folger Theatre (another, unrelated company now resides in the Elizabethan playhouse, using the name Folger Theatre) was an unusual mounting of William Shakespeare’s tragedy Othello starring Avery Brooks as the Moor, Andre Braugher as Iago, and Franchelle Stewart Dorn as Emilia; all three actors are African-Americans—as was the director, Harold Scott (who died in 2006 at 70).

[The production ran from 27 November 1990 to 27 January 1991.  I don’t have any record of exactly when my folks and I saw the show, although, considering the dates, I’d say it was around New Year.  One reason I don’t know what performance of the Folger’s Othello I saw is that I never wrote a report on it. 

[Though the production has stayed in my memory since I saw it—for several reasons, as I hope you’ll see—I didn’t make a record of it.  (I have mentioned it several times in other contexts, however, and I have some scattered notes.)  I’m going to try to reconstruct my recollection of the experience and write a “recovered” report.  Let’s hope it comes to something.

[One additional note:  I didn’t really know Harold Scott, but he was a member of the now-defunct American Directors Institute, a professional association for stage and artistic directors, and I edited ADI’s newsletter,  Directors Notes, from 1986 to 1988.  I did, as you’ll read, know Avery Brooks.  I got an MFA in acting from what is now the Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers University.  I was there from 1975 to 1977 and Brooks was on the faculty and one of my teachers.]

The Othello at the Shakespeare Theatre at the Folger, which ran from 27 November 1990 to 27 January 1991, was an extremely provocative prospect.  Director Harold Scott [1935-2006], former artistic director of the Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park and the Peterborough Players in New Hampshire, cast not just Othello with an African-American actor, but also Iago.  (I’ll address this casting more in a bit.)

This radical application of non-traditional casting—J. Wynn Rousuck of the Baltimore Sun called it “an inspired choice”—was a way for Scott to solve the two thorniest problems of the play: what were Iago’s motives for destroying Othello, and how could a man of Othello’s stature and achievements be so easily manipulated?.

Interestingly, there is historical validity to this casting choice.  After the Moors were expelled from Spain in 1492, many dispersed around the western Mediterranean basin.  This was especially so in Venice and Cyprus.  Scott, who had payed Othello himself when he was an actor, did research into this Renaissance-era history in his preparation for this production.

Additionally, Avery Brooks, who played the title role in Scott’s production, was a teacher of mine in grad school in the late ’70s.  He’d worked previously with Scott on Broadway in Paul Robeson in 1988, but I hadn’t seen him on stage since I finished my MFA in 1977. 

(I don’t know if this is coincidental, but the graduate theater program from which I got my degree, and where Brooks also earned his MFA, was at Rutgers University.  The distinguished African-American actor, singer, athlete, and civil-rights activist Paul Robeson, 1898-1976, was also educated at Rutgers. 

(The new arts school at Rutgers was eventually called the Mason Gross School, but strong consideration was given to naming it after Robeson.  Paul Robeson performed Othello on Broadway with an otherwise white cast in 1943.)

Because the Folger Theatre is roughly two-thirds-sized, the stage dimensions are small, which makes everything human-sized seem gigantic.  John Ezell’s set, therefore, felt claustrophobic and imprisoning.  Like the Elizabethan playhouses on which it’s modeled, the theater is wood, mostly unpainted; Ezell’s wooden set merged with the theater interior so the auditorium space combined with the stage space to pull the audience into the world of the play.  

The designer wove Moorish and Venetian elements together in an assemblage of wooden lattices and jagged staircases that reminded at least one spectator of an M. C. Escher print, with stairs that loop back on themselves like a Möbius strip but don’t go anywhere. 

The construction isn’t representative of any specific place so that spectators can imagine any location the play requires in either rich, sumptuous, European Venice or isolated, romantic, oriental Cyprus.

Built upstage of the thrust of the forestage, in the inner stage behind the columns holding up the “heavens,” Ezell’s structure blended with the permanent architecture of the Elizabethan stage.  Partially visible within the structure were two large golden statues, a winged lion and a horse that are the symbols of Venice. 

When we entered the theater, a large bed covered with crimson draperies was at center stage.  (Like all Elizabethan theaters, the Folger has no curtain.)  In a dumb show before the action of the play started, Othello (Avery Brooks) and Desdemona (Jordan Baker) entered from above the bed.  They walked slowly around it from opposite sides, accompanied by the sound of an African “talking drum.” 

(“The talking drum,” according to Wikipedia, “is an hourglass-shaped drum from West Africa, whose pitch can be regulated to mimic the tone and prosody of human speech.”  In addition to the drumming, there is original music composed by Lawrence Morris for bassoon, French horn, African trumpet, and the African drum throughout the performance. 

(Morris had worked with Brooks on the actor’s television series, A Man Called Hawk, for which he composed the theme music, and Ntozake Shange’s Spell #7 for the New York Shakespeare Festival in 1979.  Morris also composed the music for Harold Scott’s earlier version of Othello with Brooks, on which this production is based, for the Rutgers Shakespeare Company in New Brunswick, New Jersey, earlier in 1990.)

The couple crossed to the bed and, facing one another, knelt on it, letting their robes fall.  Naked, they embraced each other lying across the bed as it glided into the shadows and disappeared.  It was a strikingly sexy scene; with which Scott clearly wanted to show that Othello and Desdemona have a passionate physical relationship.

In addition to providing a suggestively steamy opening (the likes of which, I suspect, the Folger Shakespeare Library, the theater’s home and parent organization, had not seen before), the opening mime scene made Iago’s (Andre Braugher) words to Brabantio (Desdemona’s father; Emery Battis)—“Even now, now, very now, an old black ram / Is topping your white ewe” and “you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have coursers for cousins and gennets for germans” (I.1)—all the more unsettling because we’d just seen Othello and Desdemona making love—in a manner that vastly contrasted with Iago’s malevolent distortions.

The production’s main asset, after the idea of casting Iago as a black man, was the visual impact of the look of the set and costumes, and the opening dumb show.  I’ve mentioned the impression the initial view of the set produced, followed by the mimed love scene; the visual impact continued through the  show.  One reviewer, for example, compared the appearances of the Duke of Venice (Ted van Griethuysen), Brabantio, and the Venetian senators (Sean Cullen as Lodovico, K. Lype O’Dell as Gratiano) to Titian portraits come to life.  

When the setting changed to Cyprus (act II, scene 1), the backdrop shifted to a blue sky cyc—or sky-and-sea cyc—which made the pillars and staircases pop out.  The new set made an equally strong visual impression, even though the overall sense of claustrophobia remained.  The feeling of being closed in  was an important element in Scott’s Othello, which isn’t something I usually associate with this play. 

The reliance on visual and non-verbal imagery to communicate this important aspect of his production was necessary because Scott didn’t make any alterations to the text to emphasize it.  Neither dialogue nor situations were changed to accommodate the casting or design of STF’s Othello.

By far the most significant and provocative visual impressions, however, came from the fact that the actors playing Iago and Emilia, his wife, were both African-Americans.  Scott’s non-traditional casting was far more impactful than just visual, but its visual effect was one of the director’s most successful decisions, particularly since non-verbal and visual aspects of the staging were often salient.

In a traditionally-cast Othello, the character of the Moor is usually spotlighted because he’s the lone black figure among white Venetians.  He’s clearly “the other” and this impression is often enhanced because Othello’s commonly costumed in African or Moorish dress.  

In this production, though, Brooks’s Othello and Braugher’s Iago—along with Franchelle Stewart Dorn’s Emilia—were conspicuous together. This affected not only the dynamic between the two men, but between them and everyone else. 

There’s a link between the two men from the very beginning that isn’t shared with the Venetians.  It helps us understand why Othello’s so willing to accept Iago in ways that aren’t clear in productions in which Iago is white.. Here, Scott provides an obvious and fundamental reason for Brooks’s Othello to trust Braugher’s Iago with little question.

Not only did Scott provide the two men a common racial identity, but he intimated that they share the same ethnic culture.  They were essentially kin; a man can always trust his kinsman, after all. 

Scott explained it this way in an interview in Asides, the STF subscriber newsletter: “If you and I come from similar circumstances, such as the same home town, I would think there are grounds for trusting you beyond the people of the culture we’re both alien to.”

For instance, in act II, scene 1, along with their Venetian military garb, Othello and Iago both wore traditional Nigerian Tuareg headpieces. (A captioned photo was in the program.  The costume designs were by Daniel L. Lawson.)  This distinguished them more from the white soldiers around them and underscored the ethnic and racial connection between the two African men. 

(Scott also researched the Tuaregs, a Muslim ethnic group whose native territory overlaps with that of the Moors, including Mauritania, whose name is derived from the same root as that of the English designation ‘Moor.’)

To maintain a separation between the two black characters, however, Iago wore a European uniform at all other times, while Othello always wore his African robes.  Even when he donned a Venetian gown, he wore an African robe under it.  Lawson noted in Asides that “the fabric closest to [Othello’s] body is always African.”  This suggested that Braugher’s Iago had assumed a European identity more than Brooks’s Othello had.

As for Iago’s motive for bringing Othello down, the racial and ethnic bond Scott supplied the two characters magnified Iago’s sense of betrayal and rejection when Othello promoted Cassio, a white Venetian, to the post Iago coveted, Othello’s lieutenant—essentially his second-in-command.

(Iago is Othello’s “ancient,” or ensign, a sort of aide or assistant.  Traditionally, the ensign was the bearer of the unit’s banner, or ensign; it’s the lowest-ranking commissioned officer.  Today it exists principally in navies and coast guards; in most modern armies, the lowest officer rank is second or junior lieutenant.)

Scott’s Iago watched Othello, his comrade, his brother secure his own position in Venetian society by marrying a patrician—white—Venetian lady, but refuse to use his position and influence to make sure that Iago rose with him. 

It would further deepen Iago’s sense of betrayal that Brooks’s Othello, older than Braugher’s Iago (28, according to the text [act I, scene 3]; Braugher was, in fact, 28 at the time of the production, while Brooks was 42, 14 years his castmate’s senior.)  The two parts are usually cast at around the same age so as to be equals.as opponents, but here Othello is a father-figure and mentor to Iago, worsening the pain the younger man would feel.

The reverse is also true: Othello would be terribly pained to learn that his protégé, a man he regards almost as a son, had deceived him in an effort to destroy him.  [In a later production of the play  for the 1993 Great Lakes Theater Festival in Cleveland, Scott detailed a backstory for Othello and Iago in which the older man had essentially adopted the young Iago and raised him as his son.]

Like Othello, Emilia also wore African dress and jewelry, so in scenes with Othello, Iago, and Emilia, it was Desdemona who was the outlier.  On Cyprus, Desdemona became even more the outsider, and as the play developed she was more and more immersed in a world that’s not her own and where she doesn’t know the customs.

To play up the relationship between Iago and Othello further with non-verbal cues—even if it was feigned on Iago’s part—Braugher’s ancient shook his head in apparent anger and grimaced at Brabantio’s racist diatribe in act I, scene 3 when Othello goes before the Venetian Senate; Brooks’s Othello gestured quietly to Iago to keep cool.

Remember that we just heard Iago in scene 1 shout similar slurs to Brabantio in order to anger him.  In that scene, Othello’s ancient hides his face in his cloak to keep Brabantio from recognizing him.  Furthermore, when Roderigo (Floyd King), Iago’s (white) henchman, coolly tosses off his line about Othello’s “thick-lips,” Braugher’s Iago didn’t even flinch. 

Scott and Braugher were showing us that Iago was so duplicitous and malicious he wouldn’t even balk at deploying or hearing racist epithets if it serves his ends—even if they insult himself.

Scott’s visual and non-verbal expression of the relationship between the two black men was made concrete in the moment just before the end of the production’s first half (at act III, scene 3).  Iago pledges himself to “wrong’d Othello’s service,” and Brooks’s Othello climbed up to the walkway, lifted his arm to salute Iago below, and announced, “Now art thou my lieutenant.” 

Braugher’s Iago responded by raising his arm to salute Othello, declaring, “I am your own forever.”  Both men gave what we recognize as the clenched-fist black-power salute, made familiar from the 1968 Mexico City Olympics.  (Both Scott, b. 1935, and Brooks, b. 1948, were old enough to have remembered that famous demonstration, and Braugher, b. 1962, surely would have learned about it as he grew up.)  It served as a sign of solidarity between brothers.

Unfortunately, I didn’t feel that though Scott made an exciting decision in casting Braugher as Iago, his production really lived up to the promise. 

We saw Iago use and listen to racist language without reaction, though it was when neither Othello nor anyone who’s part of his conspiracy was in attendance.  Emilia also utters a vituperative comment to Othello in act V, scene 2 about Desdemona being “too fond of her most filthy bargain.”  Such racist language coming from the mouth of a black woman is different than it would be from a white Venetian Emilia, and so should have called for some reaction from Othello.

(It’s in act V, scene 2 that Desdemona is revealed once again on the bed we haven’t seen since the mimed prologue to the performance.  She’s asleep when the bed returns to view . . . and it is where she and Othello die.  The production is bookended by scenes with the bed, one a scene of love and passion, the other one of passion and bloody, tragic death. 

(In both scenes, the couple end in each other’s embrace.  Scott is quoted in a comment in the Christian Science Monitor as saying, “The marriage bed, how ironic, becomes the funeral bed, and also how tragic.'')

I understand Scott’s point in casting Braugher as Iago: it made the play about jealousy and betrayal rather than racial hatred.  I interpret Othello that way anyway—that Iago is pissed off because he was passed over for the post Cassio got—so Scott’s decision reinforced the original point of the play for me, and diminished an imposed interpretation that’s accrued in more modern times. 

Braugher, incidentally, expressed the same understanding in a comment in the same issue of Asides with Scott’s earlier remarks: “I don’t think it’s a play about race, but about pride and love gone bad.”                               

I would have to say, though, that the combination of the provocative casting and the production’s ultimately not doing enough with that choice, raised several unresolved questions that were oddly disconcerting and not particularly illuminating. 

If I found Scott’s Othello somewhat unsatisfying, it was because I felt he was uncertain about his concept of this play and, therefore, wasn’t sure about committing to a more forceful follow-through.  His directorial hesitancy seemed to have infected Brooks’s performance, and probably Braugher’s as well (though less obviously).

Most of the performances were inconsistent, a result, I think, of Scott’s uncertain hand.  The arresting quality of the visual production went a distance to make up for this deficiency, but not far enough.  All of the leads except Dorn seemed uncertain about the interrelationships Scott was aiming for and seemed adrift as to how to play them.

Brooks was best known to the general public for his portrayals of the title character, a sort of enigmatic equalizer, in the short-lived 1989 TV series A Man Called Hawk (set and filmed in Washington) and on Spenser: For Hire (1985-88), the show in which Hawk first appeared.  [Later he’d be seen as Captain Benjamin Sisko in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993-99).]

Hawk was a strong, decisive men [as was DS9’s Sisko], the kind of actor I knew Brooks to be from my personal experience with him—what Othello should be.  But Brooks came off more than a tad namby-pamby in this Othello, undercutting what I thought should be going on.  Rousuck called him “unexceptional.”

I’m not talking about his physical strength, or the vulnerability the character has for Iago’s duplicity.  I’m talking about the actor’s apparent lack of commitment to his character’s “score,” the inner self Brooks and Scott said they’d developed for this Othello—and which was intimated in several choices I saw enacted on stage, but not consistently or completely carried out.

Braugher provided a dramatic moment at the end of the play that demonstrated what Scott’s concept could have yielded.  In act V, scene 2, Brooks’s Othello, drawing his dagger, crossed to Iago and cut a cross into the bound man’s breast.  Braugher cried out and dropped to his knees—but he remained defiant, shouting, “Demand me nothing: . . . From this time forth I never will speak word.”  

Iago remains silent for the rest of the scene and play.  It was a display of the kind of strength all the principal characters should have shown throughout the play but seldom did.

As Desdemona, Jordan Baker, an actress whose work I didn’t know (but who got an MFA from the Mason Gross School where both Brooks and Scott taught), displayed more strength than many of the other leads (again, except for Dorn). 

Desdemona’s toughness, for instance, when she stands against her father before the Venetian Senate in act I, scene 3 didn’t disappear from Baker’s performance after she arrived in Cyprus at the beginning of act II.  Later, when Othello accuses his wife of betraying him in act IV, scene 2, Baker angrily berated him with “By heaven, you do me wrong,” pounding him with her fists.  There were other instances as well of Baker’s committed acting.

Dorn, one of Washington’s most commanding actors (whom I saw as a terrific Cleopatra opposite Kenneth Haigh’s Antony at STF in 1988), was a winning and, I thought, an interesting Emilia.  Actors frequently play Emilia as angry and resentful, but Dorn avoided this interpretation and delivered the “’Tis not a year or two shows us a man” speech in act III, scene 4 in a way that used apparent lightness to mask great anguish.

She played her emotional and sexual attachment to Iago with total transparency, and she let us all see the pain she felt from his coldness in return. 

The rest of the featured cast—several of whom are Washington favorites: Dorn, King, van Griethuysen—blew hot and cold, sometimes stepping up to the mark and other times falling short.  That kind of uneven production is the fault of the director, and, as I said, I blame Scott’s apparent inability or unwillingness to commit to the point he seemed to want to make by casting Iago and Emilia as black characters. 

If Scott had guided his actors towards performances more fully connected to the director’s central idea, the play’s impact might have come through more thoroughly than I felt it did at the Folger.  Unhappily, STF’s Othello didn’t live up to its own potential, partly because the director and several of the actors didn’t seem to have committed to a vision of the play—at least not completely.

The production was extremely popular in the Nation’s Capital.  It sold out the entire run of the show and played to standing-room-only audiences every night.  In the Washington Post, Lloyd Rose labeled the production “the kind of theater you dream about without ever believing you’ll see it.”  The Sun’s Rousuck dubbed it an “able production.” 

Louise Sweeney punned in CSM that STF’s Othello  “takes on different colors in the powerful production” and that Scott has mounted “a highly innovative . . . showcase for non-traditional casting.”  Sweeney concluded: “This production of ``Othello'' is brilliant, impassioned, and provocative.”

In the Chicago Tribune, William B. Collins dubbed this Othello “an exciting production” that “has caused a stir for the unconventional casting.”  Writing of the New Brunswick mounting of this production, Alvin Klein of the New York Times’ “New Jersey Weekly” said, “It may be the same old story, but images appear anew and insights abound.”  Scott’s casting decisions “illuminate Shakespeare’s tragedy,” Klein added.

[In 2005, Avery Brooks returned to Othello at what was by then the Shakespeare Theatre Company, house at the Lansburgh Theatre.  Directed by STC artistic director Michael Kahn and appearing opposite Patrick Page, a Caucasian actor, as Iago, Brooks (then 57) played an aging Moor married to a young Desdemona. 

[The Washington Post’s Peter Marks described the mounting as a “faithful, straightforward rendition,” but with an “intelligence guiding the production.”  Marks added, “This is not a paucity of imagination, but a veteran director's way of paying respect.”  He pronounced it “at all times engrossing,” but complained that it imparted a “muted impact.”

[In 1997, using a concept devised by actor Patrick Stewart, the Shakespeare Theatre reversed the racial makeup of Othello, casting Stewart (another Star Trek series alumnus) as a white Othello opposite an almost entirely African-American company, led by Ron Canada as Iago; Franchelle Stewart Dorn once again played Emilia.  According to J. Wynn Rousuck in the Baltimore Sun:

Described by director Jude Kelly as a “photo negative,” this rethinking is one of several bold and largely successful choices in a production that also features an increased emphasis on abuse against women.

[In the Post, however, Lloyd Rose observed that “the potential dynamite fizzles—largely because race prejudice is only one of several dramatic elements in the script and won’t stand up to being made into what the play is about.’”]

[When I was trying to make a career as an actor, there were roles I ached to play—a phenomenon among most actors, I believe.  One I got to do was the title character in George Bernard Shaw’s one-act The Man of Destiny: Napoleon as a 26-year-old general.  Most of the others, I never got to.  At the top of that list was Shakespeare’s Iago, arguably one of the greatest villains in theater. 

[I wanted to play Iago so badly, I could feel it in my bones.  I came somewhat close: I got to play Don John in Much Ado About Nothing, a kind of Iago-lite in a comedy rather than in a tragedy.  I loved doing that part, largely because Much Ado is my all-time favorite Shakespeare and it was a lovely production—but it wasn’t the brass ring.  Alas!]

*  *  *  *
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
by William Shakespeare
Shakespeare Theatre (Washington, D.C.)
in association with the Hartford Stage (Connecticut)
Lansburgh Theatre
9 & 12 January 2003 

I saw three shows while in D.C. over the holidays [in 2002-03]: I’ll start with the easiest and most dismissible production: William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing on 31 December 2002.  [I’ve posted the other reports in earlier pieces on Rick On Theater: Don DeLillo’s The Day Room in “Three Plays from Distinguished Companies from the Archives,” published on 16 April 2020, and Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II’s South Pacific in “Some Musicals from the Archives,” 24 February 2019.].  

I don’t know if the Shakespeare Theatre co-produced this show or just invited Mark Lamos to import it (I suspect the latter), but it ran in Hartford, apparently to good enough reviews, last year with essentially the same cast.  (One or two featured characters were locally recast—the leads were all from the Hartford production.)  I don’t know most of the actors, though most had substantial credits in New York and major regionals. 

The Claudio, Barrett Foa [later a regular cast member of NCIS: Los Angeles], has even done several musical productions on and Off Broadway, though he’s only 24.  (He was Jesus in the Off-Broadway revival of Godspell that Sondheim oversaw, and he was one of the dancers in Mama Mia!)  The only actor I was familiar with was Karen Ziemba, who played Beatrice.  (She won a Tony for Contact a couple of years ago.) 

Now, everyone did a nice enough job, but the show just didn’t sparkle.  Lamos set it in 1920, and the costumes were terrific, but I wonder if that set a tone in everyone’s mind that kept everyone laid back.  It was Shakespeare à la Noel Coward, if you can picture that.  The low-comic characters were played quite well, especially Dogberry (Richard Ziman). 

If this weren’t my favorite Shakespeare (so I enjoy it almost regardless), and if it hadn’t been New Year’s Eve (so I was as much in the mood for an evening’s pastime as a robust theater experience), I might have objected more.  Mother felt it wasn’t up to the Shakespeare’s usual standards, but I don’t have enough of a sense of their overall level to agree or not. 

(It’s ironic, but I saw a Much Ado at the Folger Theatre, which was the predecessor of the Shakespeare, some years ago (1985), set in about the same period—the ’30s.  It was set aboard an ocean liner—the S.S. Messina—which made it reminiscent of Anything Goes more than Shakespeare.  It didn’t work, either!  

(I remember having one big question.  Before the end of the play, after the plot has been exposed but before everything has been revealed, Don John, the instigator—and the character I played in a 1979 Off-Off-Broadway showcase of Much Ado—escapes and flees Messina.  Now, how would he do that on board a ship in the ocean?  Drop a rowboat over the side?  Riiight!  That has always bothered me—and I saw that show almost three decades ago.)

*  *  *  *
THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW
by William Nicholson
Round House Theatre (Bethesda, Md.)
9 May 2006 

Near the end of April [2006], I went down to Washington, D.C., for a short visit between my mom’s birthday (7 April) and Mother’s Day (14 May).  My mother subscribes to a couple of theaters in D.C. and she had tickets for two shows while I was in town.  

(The second performance was Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill  at the Arena Stage; see “Two Looks Back,” posted on ROT on 23 July 2016.  Mom usually goes with a couple of friends, but one friend was recuperating from a medical procedure so instead of getting extra tickets for me to join them, Mom’s friend generously gave me her seat.) 

At the matinee on Saturday, 22 April, we drove over to Bethesda to see the Round House Theatre’s Retreat from Moscow by Brit writer William Nicholson.  (It played in New York City back in 2003-04 when it was nominated for several Tonys, including Best Play.  But, then, I always wonder what the competition was that season.) 

Once again, the acting was quite good.  (The fellow playing Jamie, the son, Tim German, had a peculiar “British” accent—but let that pass; it wasn’t consequential.)  The problem here, as some reviews both in D.C. and from the original New York production pointed out, is that the play is unrelentingly bleak and unpleasant. 

Directed by James Edmondson, The Retreat from Moscow is about a marriage breaking apart, with the son caught in the middle.  (It’s semi-autobiographical, and as with other such plays about hard times in the writers’ lives, say Arthur Miller’s After the Fall, I often figure that apparently the playwright had to write it—but why do I have to suffer through it, too?) 

No one’s sympathetic, not even really Jamie, who’s unable to say anything to either parent—even his mother, Alice (Carol Mayo Jenkins), when she threatens a) suicide or b) murder.  I kept thinking: ‘Geeze, just split up already and get over it!’ 

Even the writing, which is pedestrian and plain—perhaps a virtue under other circumstances—doesn’t make this a good evening (or afternoon) in the theater.  Nicholson’s not a theater poet, to be sure.  A hint might have come from the play’s title: Edward (Rick Foucheux), a history prof, sees his marriage as Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow—and he reads descriptions of the horror that that march was.  (If only he’d compared it to Pearl Harbor—at least it would have been over quickly!)

Arts Administration, Article 7

 

[Below is the final installment in my Rick On Theater series on “Arts Administration,” which started on 2 December.  The first five posts in this collection, an entry in my occasional coverage of arts and cultural professions with which many people are not familiar, are articles in the American Theatre Special Section, “Approaches To Theatre Training: Arts Administration” from the Winter 2019 issue (36.1).

[Danielle Mohlman’s piece below, which is also from the same issue of TCG’s monthly magazine as the arts admin series, is not formally part of the section, but while human resources may not be precisely an aspect of arts administration, it is decidedly an element of theater management.  Also posted online on 2 January at americantheatre.org, “The Case For HR” is entitled “Why You Need an HR Department” on the AT website.] 

 “THE CASE FOR HR”
by Danielle Mohlman 

Human resources for a human-centered medium seem increasingly urgent, particularly in light of #MeToo.

Theatre is an industry built on human stories that move audiences. So it may come as a surprise that many regional theatres don’t have a dedicated human resources professional on staff. But HR, it turns out, can actually have an impact on the quality of the art an organization delivers, mainly by keeping tabs on the quality of life enjoyed by artists, administrators, and theatre staffers.

I spoke to five directors of human resources at theatres across the country about the challenges they face, the tools and practices they use, and the everyday joy they receive from working in a creative field.

Like many HR specialists working in the arts, Lindsey Morris, human resources manager at the Shakespeare Theatre Company (STC) in Washington, D.C., is a generalist. That means her work encompasses all aspects of the theatre’s human resources needs. There is no typical day for Morris, though the basics include working on payroll, addressing the theatre’s recruiting needs, and answering staff questions about benefits.

“People work in theatre because they love it,” Morris observes, “but they also work here for a paycheck and benefits. It’s important to have HR to help employees navigate these things, which can often be confusing. And when it’s time for budgeting or policy changes, it’s equally important to have HR involved as an advocate for staff.”

Morris, who has been in her position for five years, was initially drawn to the position because she was an avid theatregoer. Though she’d worked in other industries, she now says, “I can honestly say I can’t imagine working anywhere else.” She finds the commitment of her co-workers “inspiring and contagious.”

In light of recent allegations of sexual assault and misconduct industry-wide, the Shakespeare Theatre Company is making some internal changes in hopes of making the theatre a safer place to report any sexual misconduct.

“We’re actually working on an update to our entire employee handbook at the moment, including an update to our sexual harassment policy,” Morris reports. “It’s not a complete overhaul, but I do want to make our reporting process, and the designation of who employees can contact, much clearer.” She adds, though, that “having a policy is all well and good, but how you enforce that policy and create a safe workplace for your staff is what’s important.”

Morris is also working with the D.C. chapter of Not in Our House to adapt the new standards, drafted by artists and other shareholders in the Chicago theatre community, for all theatres in the D.C., Maryland, and Virginia regions. She believes that this document is a powerful tool for creating safer working environments.

Not every theatre company, of course, has the resources to employ a dedicated HR department, but Morris recommends that all invest in a membership with the Society for Human Resources Management. The annual professional membership fee is fairly inexpensive at $209 per year, and SHRM not only keeps members up to date on federal and state laws, but also provides professionals with a number of useful white papers and document templates.

Jen Nieri, human resources director at ZACH Theatre in Austin, seconds Morris’s recommendation. SHRM, she notes, not only provides assistance in HR matters but offers skillful training for staff members assigned to handling human resources-related tasks, even under other job titles. SHRM has local affiliated chapters, which Nieri recommends as a great way to meet other local HR professionals and learn from your community about where the focus of HR efforts should be aimed.

“I am on an email list of local HR professionals who work for nonprofits,” Nieri notes, “and we routinely bounce ideas and ask for feedback from each other.” Nieri has been with ZACH since the beginning of the 2016-17 season, joining the company because she was eager to lend her HR expertise to the arts world.

“When I was hired, ZACH was dealing with some complex staffing issues,” she points out. “As we started the recruiting process to fill vacant positions, my focus was not only on hiring for culture fit, but also for a culture shift.”

That shift took time, but Nieri says she’s proud of the quality, integrity, and character of the people who make up the ZACH Theatre staff today. And she’s proud of her contributions to the team as human resources director: “Theatre work is stressful, and at the end of the day, feeling supported matters.”

Like STC, ZACH chose to address #MeToo head-on. When the movement started, managing director Elisbeth Challener wrote a company-wide email reminding staff that the theatre had a strict anti-harassment policy. The email included a copy of the policy, which outlined avenues for reporting sexual harassment and violence. ZACH also hired an employment lawyer to talk to employees about the legal ramifications of harassment in the workplace.

ZACH isn’t the only theatre making changes in the #MeToo era. “We now make sure that a member of the HR team visits the room during every first rehearsal,” according to Caitlin Upshaw, director of human resources, equity, and inclusion at Portland Center Stage (PCS) in Portland, Ore. “We use that time to hand out our harassment and discrimination policy and to make sure everyone knows they can come to HR if they don’t feel like their concerns can be addressed in the rehearsal room,” Upshaw says. “We also remind everyone that they are our employees while they are with us, and therefore subject to the same expectations and protections as anyone else.”

Upshaw says that initiatives to prevent sexual assault in the workplace are always top of mind at PCS—and that the managers with whom she works are “incredibly proactive.”

When a worker at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis made allegations of sexist comments and actions in the theatre’s scene shop last year, for example, Upshaw notes that “our scene-shop managers reached out to request additional training to make sure they knew how to prevent a similar situation in our shop.”

She knows there’s still work to be done.

“I know we need to keep working at improving the reporting structure and reinforcing the strength of the anti-retaliation policy,” Upshaw concedes. “It is ultimately on me to ensure that my colleagues understand that they will never be penalized for bringing good-faith concerns to my attention—and that their concerns will be taken seriously.”

Upshaw has been a theatre person her entire life, but says she wasn’t able to combine her passion for theatre with her passion for human resources work until the 2015-16 season. “Theatre people are amazing co-workers,” Upshaw says warmly. “From the box office to the café staff to the run crew to the marketing team, my co-workers are motivated to make art and to create a unique and inclusive workplace. I feel incredibly lucky to be part of that.”

She understands that not every theatre has room in their budget for an HR department, but Upshaw urges theatres to consider how human resources can save theatres money in other areas, such as decreasing turnover, or limiting a theatre’s exposure to legal liability.

“Making theatre is complicated—it takes so many people to be in the right place at the right time, and those people have to be properly supported to be able to do their jobs,” Upshaw elaborates. Unique to the regional-theatre model is the mixed employee base: year-round and temporary, union and non-union, staff and contractors. Navigating those moving parts can be particularly challenging for folks who are also trying to do their own work or run a department.

“From a workplace happiness perspective, staff members can feel pretty isolated in their departments, and having full-time, organization-wide HR support makes a huge difference in connecting the dots,” she reasons. “We take care of the boring stuff—onboarding paperwork, benefits—but most important, we create a place where people can find support in making changes, if needed.”

The most important thing human resources can do, Upshaw concludes, is standardize and equalize the hiring process, with an emphasis on diversity and inclusion.

“There’s a tendency in industries that have ‘grown up’ without HR to continue to be kind of insular in their hiring,” Upshaw says, “often bringing in folks who have theatre degrees from the same set of schools, or who know someone who knows someone—and that is truly damaging to our efforts to diversify our workforce and create inclusive organizations.”

The human resources department at Portland Center Stage now reviews and revises every job description before recruiting begins, in an effort to remove every unnecessary barrier to entry. If the position doesn’t require a college degree, or if the on-the-job training that employees inevitably receive is just as good as a couple of years of experience, those job requirements are removed from the listing.

Emily Hill, human resources generalist at Wisconsin’s Milwaukee Repertory Theater, agrees that human resources are an indispensable part of the regional theatre model. She’s approaching her one-year anniversary with the company, and before she joined the team, Milwaukee Rep did not have a dedicated HR professional on staff.

“I have never felt more welcome and supported in a human resources role than I do here,” Hill declares. “A huge function of my role is acting as a liaison between staff and senior management—and to be able to do this with the support of both parties allows me to uphold integrity and solicit genuine feedback to creative positive change for the organization as a whole.”

Hill says the most challenging part of her job is that there isn’t a lot of precedent for human resources policies and practices in the theatre workplace.

“Due to the unique makeup of the theatre industry, we can’t simply use a sample policy from another industry as a starting point,” she points out. “Although I love the professional development that comes with being able to create resources in-house, it can be time-consuming. And with everything else HR professionals have on their plates, who has the time?”

But when Hill does make time for those in-house resources, she feels supported by her colleagues at the Rep. “The creative environment here makes for an extremely collaborative workplace, one that I have not experience anywhere else. The staff is accustomed to sharing their feedback, which allows for me to be more successful in implementing directives.”

Farther west, at the 5th Avenue Theatre in Seattle, Wash., human resources manager Ben Leifer agrees with Hill that his coworkers are what makes his job so rewarding.

“People are the brains, heart, and soul of the theatre,” Leifer allows. “When we help our organization well, treat employees well, offer effective policies and competitive compensation and benefits, deal fairly with issues when they arise, and help employees feel valued and respected—that’s when they can do their best work and feel good about doing so. That helps the art on our stage be the best it can be.”

Leifer was a subscriber at 5th Avenue Theatre for 18 years before coming on board as the theatre’s HR manager, and now he’s been in the position for five years. Like Hill, he is the theatre’s first dedicated HR professional on staff.

“It was a competitive recruitment process, so I feel fortunate to have been hired,” Leifer confides. The most rewarding part of his job, Leifer avows, is seeing the productions come to life. “I get to attend the first read-sing, and then witness how the shows develop and unfold through the rehearsal process,” Leifer says. “Holy cow, I even learned about tech! It gives me great satisfaction to think that I have a supporting role in helping the organization deliver such wonderful art.”

Leifer developed the theatre’s first employee handbook, which included a robust anti-harassment policy. He says he’s “particularly vigilant about compliance—making sure we’re following the multitude of ongoing, new and evolving federal, state, and local laws that impact employment. Adapting to legal innovations is a core issue for all HR professionals, frankly.” That means keeping up with local, state, and federal regulations, even when, as he points out, “Sometimes various laws don’t align with each other or they can create administrative challenges on implementation.” To sort those out he says he relies on “a number of area law firms and benefits brokerages” that provide free or low-cost briefings.

#MeToo considerations also factored into the new 5th Avenue handbook. The new policy, for instance, clarifies that harassment not only in person but on social media is prohibited. Leifer is hoping the movement will serve as a wake-up call.

“I hope the leadership of all theatres adopt strong policies and procedures to prevent and address harassment issues, and then walk the talk, using HR or other appropriate staff to effectively deal with problems if or when they occur,” he says. “National statistics show that most employees who experience sexual harassment do not report the issue, and we need to make sure our organizations are receptive to hearing and acting when staff does not feel safe or respected.”

If that’s not an argument for human resources, I don’t know what is. 

[Danielle Mohlman is a nationally produced feminist playwright based in Seattle. She is a member of the 2018 Umbrella Project Writers Group, a one-year residency in which members become a part of the Umbrella Project artist community, and her play Nexus is among the 2015 honorable mentions on the Kilroys’ List, an initiative to end the gender disparity in the American theater.]