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Our Time
A Speech to the A.R.T./New York Membership by Virginia P. Louloudes
at the Alliance of Resident Theatres/New York's Annual Meeting
"Curtain Call"
American Airlines Theatre
Monday, May 13, 2002
You made it. And I knew you would.
It seems fitting that we hold Curtain Call, in this, A.R.T./New York's 30th
Anniversary, in the Roundabout's "American Airlines Theatre". Fitting, for
so many reasons, but none more so than the fact that it illustrates how far
we've come. You see, the last time the entire membership convened, it was
for a Town Meeting here - on September 20th, 2001, nine days after the attacks
on the World Trade Center.
During the meeting, I asked my friend and board member, Peggy Ayers, to
provide a context for foundation giving in the aftermath of September 11th.
As usual, Peggy was direct, informed, and honest. But this time was special,
because she shared a personal observation to all gathered, confessing that
"not a day goes by that she doesn't see the towers collapsing in her minds eye."
Peggy's eloquent words dared to say what we were all feeling. And while I
don't think she intended this, her words prompted the CD button in my head
to playback one of my favorite Sondheim ballads, "Not a Day Goes By".
As most of you probably know, the song is from the wonderful Sondheim musical
Merrily We Roll Along, based upon a Kaufman and Hart play by the same name.
Told backwards in time over the course of twenty years, Merrily dares to ask
if it's possible to remain true to oneself and one's art - and become a commercial success.
Throughout the show, the singers, like a Greek Chorus ask:
"How did you get there from here...what was the moment?"
Needless to say, I've been asking myself these same questions, in this, our
30th Anniversary year. And because of the events of September 11th, I can't
help but return here, to our September 20th Town Meeting.
Somehow, out of profound sadness and loss, what was already a close knit
confederation of theatres tightened its circle and its community, and
became a force.
I watched and listened, as Daniel Aukin and Alexandra Connolly of Soho Rep stood,
shell-shocked, to announce that in just ten days, they'd lost $60,000 in rental
income. The police couldn't even tell them when their theatre could be open to
the public, and they didn't know where they'd be performing their upcoming
reading series.
No sooner did Daniel and Alexandra sit down, then Elena Holy of the Present
Company stood up. Elena had just had a performance artist cancel, because
she feared that her politically based work was too raw for the time. Elena
offered Soho Rep the use of the Theatorium - it could solve both their problems.
Next, Jackie Christy, of Access Theatre told the group that her Ground Zero Theatre
had more volunteers that she could use, and that she'd happily share them with
any company in need.
Alyse Singer of the Hourglass Group described how her actors found comfort in the
act of volunteering at Ground Zero. But it was only after Nina Trevens talked
about reaching out to the TADA! kids, who told her that "they just wanted to get
on with their lives...and could she help calm down their parents," only then did
I begin to comprehend just how much our work transcends the stage and touches lives.
This was an important moment, and like a snowball, it grew to create other
"moments":
Such as the call from Catherine Wichterman of the Mellon Foundation November 22
telling me that there would be an article in the New York Times, announcing the
creation of the Foundation's special, $50 million September 11th Relief Fund
the next day. Catherine just wanted me to know that we might be mentioned in
that article, as the designee of $2.65 Million Dollars for what would become the
A.R.T./New York Mellon Arts Relief Fund.
These moments led to other incredible acts of generosity -from the Carnegie
Corporation; the September 11th Fund; the Andy Warhol Foundation, the Nonprofit
Finance Fund, the Lucille Lortel Foundation, The Liman Foundation, the Bloomberg
Administration, the Harold and Mimi Steinberg Charitable Trust, the Robert Sterling
Clark Foundation, and Phillip Morris Companies. According to my calculations,
these emergency dollars - which total between $6 - 7 million, literally saved this
industry from what was certain to be the most devastating year in our brief history.
To say that Mellon and their funder colleagues kept us alive is far from an
understatement, and we owe them a tremendous debt of gratitude. We have with
us today representatives from these incredible organizations, and I'd like to
acknowledge them and would ask them to please stand:
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Peggy Ayers, of the Robert Sterling Clark Foundation
George Forbes of the Lucille Lortel Foundation
The Honorable Kate Levin, Commissioner of the NYC
Department of Cultural Affairs
And last, but certainly not least
Chris Prentice of the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation
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Obviously, there have been other shining moments - and they all have one
common thread: they come when we galvanize the community to respond to a
particular industry challenge: be it the creation of the Computer project
in the 80's; the establishment of the Chapin Loan Fund in the 90's; the
purchase of South Oxford Space on January 25th 2000, and our current real
estate venture, our 20 year lease on 32,000 square feet of space at 520
Eighth Avenue thanks to the Bloomberg Administration, the City Council,
the Hyde and Watson Foundation and our incredible landlords, Jeff and
Eric Gural.
In the past few months I've also come to realize that challenge brings even
greater opportunities and forks in the road. How we respond to these
opportunities says volumes about who we are, and will have a profound
impact on our future.
We will be judged, not only by the incredibly noble way we conducted
ourselves this year - but by the way we adapt to the new realities, or what
George and Nello like to call "the current conditions". And this is where
the lessons of this year's surprise hit, Metamorphosis may be applied.
The tragic characters in Ovid's myths are the humans who live in denial of
their circumstances: The father who ignores his child, choosing to lust
after fame and fortune; the fisherman who believes that he can outsmart
Neptune and survive the rough seas; the young woman who insults Aphrodite
by denying her carnal desires.
And then there is Psyche, who allows her jealous sisters to convince her to
disobey Eros' request that she not look upon him. And once she does, she
loses him. Psyche's one of the lucky ones - she gets a second chance. I
know I've spoken about Psyche before, but I believe that the myth and its
lessons bear repeating.
You may recall that Psyche is assigned a series of four seemingly impossible
tasks - all of which she succeeds by learning important lessons. The first
task teaches her to follow her instincts; the second task teaches Psyche to
trust and use her own feminine powers, and not to try to compete with the
masculine strength which she clearly lacks. But it is the last two tasks
which seem so very applicable to our current moment in time:
The third task - getting a goblet of water from the treacherous river Styx,
symbolizes our having to deal with the vast, complex and sometimes impossible
challenges of life. The river tumbles from a high mountain, disappears into
the earth, and comes back to the high mountain again. There is no place where
one can set foot near enough to dip into the water. Yet, just when she thinks
she is doomed, an eagle comes to Psyche's aid - takes the goblet into his beak,
and returns with it filled with water.
From this task we learn that during those moments when life seems most
overwhelming, we must use our " eagle vision", which gives us a broader
perspective, prioritize, and concentrate on one task at a time.
The fourth task is the most important and the most difficult of all. Psyche
must go to the underworld, confront Persephone, the queen of mysteries - and
ask for a cask of her beauty ointment, which she must then bring to
Aphrodite. Think Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz having to return with the
Wicked Witch of the West's ruby slippers.
The instructions are very explicit. Psyche is given two pieces of barley
cake in her hands and two half-penny coins in her teeth. She must not stop
on the way nor be drawn aside by any distractions - otherwise she'll be
exhausted and stranded. The journey requires rest, solitude, and an
accumulation of energy so that she can succeed in these trying tasks.
In a sense, we have all faced Psyche's challenges, and we've all had to
learn to trust our instincts, play to our strengths and rigorously
restructure and refocus our priorities.
Now, as we prepare for the 2002-03 season we, too, must face the fourth
and most difficult task. But like Psyche, we've been given our cakes
and gold coins, thanks to the Mellon and other arts relief monies.
If we are to succeed we must resist the temptation to conduct business as
usual. We must conserve our energy and focus on that which is most
important, without getting sidetracked or seduced by tempting but
overwhelming projects. And most important, we must prepare ourselves
for a difficult year - a year of reduced income.
Most foundation portfolios are down, as a result of the recession.
That means smaller and fewer grants. New York City's corporations
have had a terrible year, particularly the financial industries based
in lower Manhattan. The City is facing a 5 - 6 BILLION DOLLAR DEFICIT.
And once the gubanatorial election is over, you can expect cuts on
the State level as well.
For these reasons, I urge all of our funders to loosen their guidelines - to
allow as many grants as possible to be applied towards general operations:
and to abandon the minimum number of productions requirements. Some of our
theatres have told me that they feel compelled to produce three plays - which
they can ill afford - because they fear losing funding if they reduce their output.
Just as Psyche could not waste her coins on frivolous expenditures, so too
should our members not be compelled to adhere to a series of standards that no
longer apply to the current fiscal realities.
I think the Psyche myth resonates with me, because she reminds me so much of myself.
And so I'd like to thank those who have come to my rescue and provide the sound advice
and eagle eye vision: my husband John Harrison, and the board and staff of A.R.T./New York.
As I call their names I'd like them to stand, and in the interest of time I'll ask you all
to please hold your applause:
Howard Aibel, George Ashiotis, Peggy Ayers, Susan Bernfield, Andre Bishop,
Helene Blieberg, (Who so ably and marvelously administered the Mellon Arts Relief Fund,
and who I will miss having in our office each day), Abe Blinder, Juan Cappello, Peter Cross,
Helene Davis, Janet Dunham, Richard Eng, David Esbjornson, Lisa Frigand, Todd Haimes,
Jay Harnick, Linda Herring, Amy Herzig, Jim Houghton, Lewis Jones, Jerry Levy, Bob LuPone,
Leslie Marcus, Anne Meara, Bruce Mitchell, Carol Ochs, Barbara Parisi, Dolores Prida,
Fran Reiter, Rob Simon, Jeff Solis, Eileen Solomon, Jerry Stiller,
Owen Thomas and Diane Wondisford.
And I'd like to especially acknowledge the unsung local heroes - the
A.R.T./New York staff:
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Stephanie Bok, Jewell Campbell, Andrew Chipok,
Lydia DeBiase, Susan Ferziger, Mary Harpster,
Jerry Homan, Mary Jane Louaver, Anthony Patton,
Mark Rossier, Lisa Stevenson, Eba Taylor
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Finally, I would like to honor and pay tribute to each and every one of you,
our member companies. You've faced tremendous challenges - the equivalent
of Psyche's third task. And as we embark on our treacherous but exciting
journey, I'd like to share with you the song from Merrily We Roll Along
that reminds me most of you: Our Time. Our Time is the final song in the
show, and since this musical goes backwards in time, it is the song that
presents the central characters, a composer, a writer and a lyricist, at
the moment they decide to embark on a life in the theatre. It is a song
filled with hope and ideals - and it could be sung by any of you -
Something is stirring, deep inside, it's just begun
Edges are blurring all around, and yesterday is done
Feel the flow, hear what's happening, we're what's happening
Don't you know?
We're the movers and we're the shapers
We're the names in tomorrow's papers
Up to us now to show em
It's our time, breathe it in
Worlds to change and worlds to win
Our turn, coming through
Me and you, pal, me and you
Years from now, we'll remember and we'll come back
Buy the rooftop and hang the plaque
This is where it began. Being what we can.
It's our heads on the block
Give us room and start the clock
Our dreams coming true. Me and you pal, me and you
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We're going to make it. Thank you.
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