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The
Little Theater
That Shouldn't Have
(but
did.)
by
Aria Seligmann
The little engine puffed, sputtered and coughed as it pushed its
way up the hill. "I think I can, I think I can," it said as it struggled
to reach the top. Finally, looking to the horizon, the little engine realized it
had made it on a wing, a prayer, and sometimes just fumes. Then it looked down the
hill and saw the crowd of talented people who had been helping to push it along its
way.
Lord Leebrick Theatre Company celebrates its 10th season this year.
Three years is a feat for most theater companies, longer than that, an institution,
such as Very Little Theatre, now in its 73rd season, or Actors Cabaret, now in its
23rd season. VLT and ACE have offered many high quality performances over the years,
with established audiences and reputations, while Lord Leebrick has continued to
fulfill its founders dream of broadening both its audience and its offerings by presenting
riskier, cutting-edge works that challenge and dare.
Current artistic director Corey Pearlstein is jazzed about this
season's line-up, the first chosen by him: Opening Thursday, Oct. 4 is Warren Leight's
Side Man, followed by the Holiday Vaudeville Show, Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, then As
You Like It, and finally, Death of an Anarchist. The season, plus some late-night
extras, is based on a pattern two friends formed a number of years ago, when they
turned a simple dream into reality.
Prelude
Christopher Leebrick and Randy Lord both studied drama
at UC Irvine. They roomed together senior year, did some shows together, and stayed
in touch while living and working in L.A. In 1991, Leebrick left L.A. and returned
to his hometown of Eugene. "I started to notice a lack of serious theater here,"
he says. Oregon Repertory Theatre had folded, Actors Cabaret was doing mostly musicals,
and VLT was offering tried and true standards. (Both theater companies have since
expanded their repertoire.) Leebrick got it in his head to start his own theater
company and called Lord to see if he was interested.
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Storm Kennedy,
Stephen Speidel and Eric Murray in Beyond Therapy. .
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"In L.A., we were both working on projects that had little meaning
and we weren't growing as artists," says Lord. "We wanted to do what we
thought was important: Beckett, Pinter, Mamet."
Lord came to visit for a few days but stayed a few weeks. The two
planned, came up with budget projections -- "looking back they were laughable,
cocky and naive," says Leebrick -- and even tried to secure a space.
They picked a spot by the train station, where Buffalo Exchange
now resides. They met with the owner. Leebrick recalls, "We wore suits and rehearsed
what we were going to say to convince him to let us use it for cheap. The meeting
only lasted for 20 minutes because once he found out we didn't have any money, the
meeting was over."
During those few weeks, Lord made no commitments and headed back
to L.A. Leebrick persisted, telling him he needed an answer by Jan. 1, 1992.
To Leebrick's delight, Lord said yes. "Why not give it a year
or two and just work on fun projects and see where it goes from there?" he thought.
The two tossed around names, settled on using their own, and even
created a fictional character (whose first name is Eugene, by the way) that became
their logo. They were a company with no money and no space, just the desire to do
great theater.
A Barn
By luck, the Broadway building's owner wanted performances
there. He agreed to let them use the storefront (now Adam's Place) with no money
up front, just 25 percent of the profits. They sent out their first "beggar
letter" and much to their surprise, they received a total of $365.
The first show consisted of Beckett's Play and Pinter's
One for the Road. They got their first review. "Partners produce powerful
plays," sang the headline.
After the run, the books showed the two were only in the hole by
$33. They were pleased.
They followed with Zoo Story by Edward Albee, then Lord's
interactive murder mystery Who Killed Frankie?, which took place at several
locations downtown. That show made $500 profit. The two were on their way.
Mamet's Speed the Plow opened the next "official"
season. The space was working, but a noise conflict arose between the
theater and self-improvement organization Wings, located upstairs. "There was
tons of noise from them, and you can imagine what kind of language they could hear
coming from Mamet," says Leebrick. One more show, Edward Albee's American
Dream and an original play by Richard Leebrick, Hung/rypublic, and they
were out.
Again, they needed a place to play. They rented the old Creative
Kids building (now a seller of Persian carpets) to stage Measure for Measure,
which had already been cast. Directed by Lynda Czjakowska, who had acted in the first
show and directs to this day, the show was a hit, and proved that Shakespeare done
well would succeed.
That space was expensive, however, and the partners were once again
homeless, using the kitchen of their apartment as an office. They had already cast
their next show, Talk Radio, and needed a stage.
Taking a walk one day, Lord came across Snickerdoodles, a former
T-shirt store at 540 Charnelton, that had a "For Lease" sign. "I didn't
know if we could pull it off," says Leebrick. Would they be seen as financially
solvent enough, should they get locked into a lease -- Leebrick developed an ulcer.
They moved in Nov. 1. With Joseph Gilg directing and designing sets and lights and
Carol Horne assisting, the show went up Nov. 18.
"In 18 days, and many very long nights, we rehearsed the show,
turned the factory into a theater (lobby, backstage, seating ... everything), built
the set, hung the lights, and opened on time. We knew every inch of that space because
we had either swept it or painted it or moved it or built it," says Horne.
"To be really frank, my first impression of Randy and Chris
was that they were a couple of kids who didn't really know what they were doing,
but were so determined that nothing was going to stop them from making a go of it,"
she says.
Up and Running
That show solidified Horne's friendship with the two partners.
"When it was time for me to start my own theater company, they welcomed my productions
into their space with open arms." Little Apple Productions (a feminist theater
company now defunct) produced five shows in the theater over the next five years
(Last Summer At Bluefish Cove, Blasphemy, Hannah Free, Buddah's
Aunt and The Descent of Inanna). Horne also directed The Road to Mecca,
Lonely Planet and Jacques Brel ... "giving me the opportunity
to really stretch and hone my skills," she says.
The theater also rented space to David Stuart-Bull and Diane Johnson's
Britt Theatre Company. Bull had worked on Measure for Measure, and before
that with UO, LCC and ACE.
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Nancy Hopps in
Taming of the Shrew. .
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His first impression of the theater was "obviously this was a
shoestring operation. Make it up as you go," he says. Yet he noticed that "Chris
and Randy had drive, and ignorance is bliss." The Britt used other theaters
for staging its performances. "I can identify with doing a theater company without
a space," he says. "You have to be a little ignorant to do it or you wouldn't."
Britt did benefits for several local non-profits, but quit after a couple of years
when it was in a deficit.
Like Horne, Bull gained intimate knowledge with the space. One
night, the theater doors were locked but his cast had shown up to rehearse. Bull,
who by day is the Jolly Good Chimney Sweep, got his long ladder from his truck, crawled
onto the roof, dropped down through the skylight onto the floor -- "that's a
long way down there" -- and opened the doors for an appreciative cast. "We
weren't going to be locked out!" he says.
Bull also performed in LLTC's A Winter's Tale, Merry
Wives of Windsor, and The Best Man. "I'm very grateful for the opportunity
to do Shakespeare roles," he says. Sparky Roberts, whose first involvement with
Lord Leebrick was directing Dwarfman, Master of a Million Shapes, as well
as the1999 production of The Taming of the Shrew, 2000's Much Ado About
Nothing, and other shows, agrees. What does she think is the best contribution
the theater has made to the community? "Shakespeare!"
Over the next few seasons, Lord and Leebrick learned their jobs:
how to be artistic directors, how to balance a season as well as the books.
"Kicking off our third season we knew we needed to make a
change because so far we only did the plays we wanted to do artistically, but we
knew we needed to balance that out with plays that were also commercially successful,"
says Leebrick. They had learned Shakespeare worked; next they chose Pirate's Lullaby,
which Leebrick says was "a bit too politically correct for our tastes"
but they figured it would play well in Eugene. It did.
Nancy Hopps entered the theater for Pirate's Lullaby that
fall of 1994. She had also performed at ACE and other local venues, but was impressed
with Lord Leebrick's innovation. "They were gaining a reputation for being a
theater company that did interesting works, and the people were great to work with,"
she says.
Hitting Their Stride
The seasons continued, and with them, a growing reputation,
growing corporate sponsorships and grants; attaining non-profit status, a board of
directors, and a mission statement. A new lighting system and a renovation of the
bathrooms were all big projects that were to occur in coming years. After a few years,
Lord and Leebrick were able to quit their jobs waiting tables and give themselves
paychecks: $150 per month, before taxes.
New liaisons were formed, such as collaborations with Thurston
High School theater director Mike Fisher and stage craft teacher Mark Huisenga. Fisher
has done almost every production program since 1994 and has directed several shows,
including new works for the first Northwest Playwrights Series and a collection of
shorts by William Mastrosimone for 99 Minutes of Midnight Madness at 11 pm.
Huisenga and his class have designed and built many sets.
The Northwest Playwright's Series helped solidify the company's
growing reputation for avant-garde theater. It was Richard Leebrick's brainchild,
who "stepped in during the summer when Chris and Randy were burned out,"
he says, and the series grew to include 100 submissions from all over the Northwest
by its third season. Workshopped were original works by Lisa Railsback, Nick Zagone
and Dorothy Velasco.
The series was put to rest for a few years, then resurrected when
Richard Leebrick collaborated with Kevin Leinbach for the 99 Minutes version
in the summer of 2000. That series received submissions by Mastrosimone, George Herman
and Lenora Rianda.
"Chris and Randy sank everything they earned back into the
theater," says Richard Leebrick. "They really paid their dues, and with
this sweat equity that developed came a constant striving to produce professional
quality shows."
"It's been invigorating watching the growth of the company,"
says Fisher. "Primarily, I was impressed with their firm stance on doing what
they set out to do; there was never any question that the season would go up, the
plays would go on ... They sacrificed a lot in those first years for the sake of
their dream."
Living The Dream
For three years, while they were running the show at 540
Charnelton, Lord and Leebrick were living there, too.
"It was surreal," says Lord. It was, of course, a financial
decision, though Leebrick admits he had a "romantic attraction" to the
idea of living in the space and Lord admits he'd done it once before in a theater
in Southern California. "It was either that or close down," says Leebrick.
So, on March 10, 1994, "a day that was pissing rain and we
both had colds that really sucked," the two packed up their stuff and moved
into the theater, piling up their furniture and covering it so the cast and director
wouldn't know. Of course, dirty dishes in the utility sink and beer cans lying about
gave them away, but they tried to do it on the sly.
The first night was the test. The heating system was bare bones,
an open duct led into the lobby, where the two crashed that first night. Leebrick
was so cold he slept directly under the duct; Lord needed to be propped up to breathe
so had his head against the front door. At 7 am, bang! bang! bang! The two jumped,
"Cops!" They were sure they'd been busted for sleeping in the space. Randy
opened his eyes and looked out the door. It was the UPS guy.
For the next few years, Leebrick could take breaks -- his parents
live in Eugene -- and he could go there to get away. But Lord couldn't go anywhere.
"My own clothes became mixed in with the costumes," says
Lord. Clothes, costumes, furniture, props -- all were the same. But the romantic
notion has a downside. "The line between reality and theater gets totally blurred
and intertwined," he says.
"Randy didn't have a place to go and day after day woke up
staring at his computer and the work in front of him," says Leebrick.
The grind had caught up with him.
Yet that fourth season was arguably the theater's best, hitting
its peak with Macbeth and The Nerd. "Eugene Weekly put
us on the cover and we got great press," says Leebrick. Next up was Chris Pender's
show, Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris, directed by Horne,
with audience members sitting at tables similar to a French café.
The success meant salary increases -- to $300 per month before
taxes. But for Lord, the show was over.
"I couldn't take it anymore. The stress, the living situation,
the real truth is in our first couple of seasons we were doing it all, directing,
acting, business ... then I only got to be in one show a year; I turned into an administrator."
The work wasn't satisfying and Lord felt he had quit growing artistically. "What
finally told me I had to get out was a car accident. I got hit by a cement truck,
broke my ribs and it was my fault." That was supposed to be the first day of
a much needed vacation.
Lord took off for New Mexico, leaving Leebrick at the helm.
Solo Acts
Leebrick admits he was intimidated, having always had a
partner, but at the same time relished the challenge. "Randy had to leave and
I had to go on," he says.
He did go on, for a successful season beginning with Sylvia,
wrapping up with A Midsummer Night's Dream and Moose Mating. The theater
procured its first outside office space, and had a 50 percent increase in income
from the previous year.
But then Leebrick, now engaged, realized he, too, was burning out
and wanted to leave. His fiancée lived in Portland. He had known success,
with the budget growing from $0 in the first year to $135,000 by season six. The
board asked Lord to come back.
He agreed, with the caveat that he wanted to spend his time developing
an educational outreach program, the current Impact! Theatre, and he would commit
to only two years, and then reassess.
The next two years saw a doubling of resources due to a highly
successful "angel" campaign. An anonymous donor had offered to match contributions,
which raised approximately $60,000. Hits like The Taming of the Shrew helped
garner more donations. Lord was pulling double duty as LLTC artistic director and
Impact! director, and found that working with children was his passion. A new artistic
director needed to be found.
"I was happy to hand the reigns over to someone else and concentrate
on Impact!," says Lord. "I had proved to myself I could run a theater and
produce. I was satisfied with what
I had done and I wanted to move on."
Encore
The board held a nationwide search and hired Corey Pearlstein,
a confident 27-year-old from Massachusettes, to come in and take over. Pearlstein
hit the ground running. He called for new flooring, new lights, new sound, new seats.
A lot of it was luck, suddenly there was a cash flow to enable those things to happen,
a lot of it was persistence: working with the board to procure grants and sponsorships.
"There's a Persever-ance Theatre in Juneau, Alaska,"
says Pearlstein. "If not for the fact that they had that name, it would be a
great name for this one. It's about tenacity."
What Pearlstein likes about LLTC is that its offerings are unique
and always changing. "There's no status quo -- it's a process-oriented experience
that came out of -- an amazing success story."
Pearlstein says his job has been "to define how to go forward
and figure out what we are here to do." The theater remains committed to artistic
adventure and exploration. "We believe in the intelligence of the audience and
believe there is a hunger for consequential art," he says.
Maintaining the vision of the original founders has been the crux
of the new board's search for identity. New works, Shakespeare, and now, a second
season that pushes the envelope with even edgier material, are on the agenda.
With a strong board in place and the fresh energy of a new artistic
director, that little engine seems solidly planted at the top of the hill. But it's
important to remember that crowd of supporters pushing it along. Technical helpers,
such as Mark Huisenga and his stagecraft class, production manager Steve Rich, tireless
volunteers Alisa McLaughlin and Kathy Bates, administrative assistants Katina Paxino
and Tim Guetterman, and dozens of others who couldn't all be interviewed for this
story have made the shows happen, and deserve a huge round of applause.
"Randy and I joke that if we knew then what we know now, we
never would have started a theater company," says Leebrick. "In that way,
our naïvete was a blessing to help give us the courage to go for it."
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