Friday, April 27, 2012

Road Trip!


You guys, my invitation came! I'm psyched! The last time I attended a big, fun show like this at WFT must have been more than ten years ago. Maybe fifteen. I'm even looking forward to the 9-hour road trip (split over two days, thank you very much) that will precede it. (I know it's only a 6-hour trip. But, you try driving from Philly to Boston, solo, with a 3-year-old. See how long it takes you!)

I'll be coasting into town late morning, easing my kid into his stay-cation with his grandparents, and then donning my finery for a night at the ole alma mater.

What about y'all? Are you going? Are you coming from afar? And, most importantly, what are you wearing? Dish!

(Get your tickets, tout de suite! www.wheelockfamilytheatre.org)

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Old School.

WFT Hotline, c. 1993
When I worked in the Box Office back in the day, we had this old, white, push-button telephone that you had to "flash" (press down on the hook) to get to the call waiting. The Box Office had its own phone number (as opposed to just an extension) and a distinctive ring. That phone was like a hotline. It should have been red. Actually, if I worked there now and we still had that old thing, I would totally paint it red.

We also had "the books" which were plastic-covered, three-ring binders, one for each of the  current season's shows. I took great pride in setting up "the books" as part of my summertime work-study gig. I'd decorate covers to insert into the plastic, label the sides neatly, and photocopy the reservation sheets onto three-hole-punched paper.

My best memories working at the Box Office are the days when the show was selling out and I didn't get to take the phone off my ear for my entire 4-hour shift. Just "clicking" over from one call to the next. "Wheelock Family Theatre. Please hold." When I was done, the whole side of my face was red and my ear was all cauliflowered, but I was completely jazzed from the frenetic pace of taking reservation after reservation. Reading printed directions from a small square of pink-highlighted paper taped to the desk. Explaining the weather-related cancellation policy. Reminding patrons not to park in the neighboring school's lot.

This was the early 90s. This was before the Internet, if you can believe such a time ever existed. This was when people actually called someone to make a theatre reservation and WFT printed its tickets on a deafeningly loud, dot matrix, spooled printer.

Living so far away and having not worked at The Theatre for nearly ten years, I actually have no idea what technology has done for the Box Office, but I have to believe that it's come a long way from the antiquated white "hotline." Still, there's nothing like a taking ticket orders for a show that people are just clamoring to see.

You should make some workstudy's day. Kick it old school. Call for some tickets. Maybe even pretend that you don't have a GPS and ask for directions, too.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Interview with Susan Kosoff


I remember being scared of Susan Kosoff when I was a little baby work-study student. Not because she was threatening or terrifying, but because she always conducted herself and her business with such confidence and importance that it shook me. This is not to say that she never laughed (anyone who’s stepped foot in the Theatre has surely heard Susan’s classic “Hah!” floating out of her office and echoing down the hall) but rather that she is a force. Someone to respect, listen to, believe, and trust. Now I’m a grown-up with a kid of my own and I have mustered my own sense of confidence and importance, but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t just a little anxious about sitting down with Susan to chat. (Of course, I didn’t sit with her, per se. It’s a long commute from Philly for a 30-minute interview, but Susan did graciously agree to chat with me on the phone, which is just what we did this morning.) With input from my fellow work-study comrades from the mid-1990s, I asked Susan about her time at Wheelock College, WFT, and what she has planned for the future when she retires this June.

RM: When is “Retirement Day” and what is Day One going to be like for you?
SK: Well, officially, my contract ends on June 30, but I’m leaving for Singapore on June 15th and I’m teaching there through the summer, so… And I am coming back to direct Oliver! next season, so it’s not exactly as if it’s a harsh break. I will obviously have a continuing relationship both with the College and the Theatre.

RM: Oh, I was just going to ask you if you anticipated continuing to direct at WFT.
SK: Not necessarily, but, I don’t know. I was reluctant actually to agree to direct Oliver! because I want to allow the person taking my place to have as much latitude as possible, but it seemed ok for this year.

RM: Do we know who that replacement will be?
SK: No, not yet. The College has a search committee and is interviewing 10-12 people and they’ll narrow it down. Jackie (Wheelock’s president) will make the final decision, I think, with input from all of us.

RM: So, ok. Why are you leaving, actually? Why now?
SK: I don’t wanna leave the party too late. It feels like the time. My mentor once said to me, “You should leave the job when you stop liking the problems.” So, there’s some of that and some of, well, I want time to do the things that I haven’t had time to do for a long time. Like write and paint and it just seemed like a good time to leave. The Theatre’s in really good shape and I feel like I’m leaving it in a positive place and I’m just ready. I’m not hanging on by my fingernails or anything like that. I’ve really enjoyed this year and I’ve been asked by [Wheelock’s president] to plan next season and I’m doing that and that feels fine. I just want to be able to do the things to things that I want to do.

RM: You paint? I bet that would come as a surprise to a lot of people!
SK: I do. I paint in oils. 

RM: How long have you been doing that?
SK: I haven’t been doing it; that’s the problem! I started doing it in high school, but it’s not the kind of thing you can do at 2 o’clock in the morning when you get home from rehearsal. I have managed to squeeze out some writing over the years, but not very much. I just want that sense of endless time.

RM: So, we know what you’re looking forward to. What will you miss the most?
SK: I think the people I’m close to. Having more accessibility to them and working together.  That’s how I love to be with people. Working toward a common goal.

RM: You have said you’re retiring to Cape Cod. Will you continue to direct there?
SK: I have a place there that I have had since 1973 that I have used very little the last five years because I’ve been going to Singapore in the summers, so yes. I am really looking forward to spending a lot of time on the Cape. But that doesn't mean I won’t be [in Boston] a lot or in New York a lot. It’s pretty easy once you get on the Cape to not go over the bridge anymore, but I don’t want to do that. I love Boston and New York. I’ve been asked to direct at Harwich Junior Theatre. They said I could pick any play I wanted, but I don’t know. I don’t want to book myself up. I want to try to stay open to the possibility of things. My life has been pretty much programmed for the last, well at least the last 20 years and I want to try to keep it open to new possibilities.

RM: Speaking of the last 20 years, what’s Emily (your daughter) up to?
SK: Emily finished at Wheelock in December and is going to march at my last graduation! And then she’ll come to the Cape with me.

RM: Do you have any advice for people who want a 40-year career at one place?
SK: One of the things that has been true is that I have done a lot of different things. In addition to faculty, I was the Director of the Graduate School for two years, Co-Undergraduate Dean for two years, Head of Arts and Sciences for two years, taught in the Graduate School, taught Undergrad, was the Coordinator for Pre-service in the Graduate School and then I had the Theatre also. Within the 40 years, I have had tremendous variety and that’s what has allowed me to be here so long. I think I’ve had as much variety here as a lot of people have by changing places where they work several times. I’ve taught in Bermuda, in Singapore – I’ve been able to have the best of both worlds. Continuity and stability, but great variety. Starting a theatre and nurturing it along has given me variety, too. It has changed a lot over the years. I don’t feel like I have gotten stagnant. I’ve certainly never been bored!

RM: Is there anything you wish you could have done that you may have left undone?
SK: There are some physical improvements that I’d hoped would happen. I think we’ve done a lot, but there are always more upgrades and attention to be given. I would love it if we had all new seats in the auditorium and we have a plan for that but I’m not sure it will come to fruition because it’s a huge expense. I would love to have been able to establish a cash reserve or endowment to help insure the Theatre’s future. This thing they’re doing for my retirement, the proceeds from the retirement event, which is kind of my swan song, are going to go to creating a fund that will help ensure scholarships and help people who couldn’t otherwise afford to go to shows. So if that could come to fruition, I would love that.

RM: People are really looking forward to that event. But I didn't know the ticket price was going toward that fund.
SK: They’re calling it The Susan Kosoff Legacy Fund and the idea is that it will make theatre accessible. Both the classes and the shows, which is what’s really important. The fund hasn’t been spelled out before, but people will see it on the invitation. I was horrified at the price initially, but I didn’t have anything to do with it. What’s the sense if the people who want to be there can’t be there? They’re trying to find ways to have different kinds of groups of people come for a lower price. If you really want to go and can’t, talk to Kay (Elliott) and she will work something out.

RM: Thank you so much for taking time to talk to me. I know the blog readers will love this little glimpse. When I asked people for questions to ask you, I got such an overwhelming display of affection and love for you. Everyone’s really going to miss you around there.
SK: Thank you. Thanks.

A Salute to the Wonderful Wizard of Wheelock will be a comical, musical trip down memory lane, performed by WFT talents of all ages – and directed by the incomparable Wicked Witch of the West (Jane Staab)! There will also be a festive reception before the performance, where the food will be fanciful…the décor creative…and the company divine! This is an evening you won’t want to miss!
More info here: https://www.fundraise.com/thewonderfulwizardofwheelockspecial

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

BOSTON GLOBE:Wheelock Family Theatre circles back to ‘The Miracle Worker’

When William Gibson’s “The Miracle Worker” debuted on Broadway in 1959, the drama about the relationship between Helen Keller and her teacher, Anne Sullivan, shone a spotlight on the issue of disabilities and human potential. The play was featured on the cover of Time magazine, and the 1962 film version earned Academy Awards for Anne Bancroft and child actor Patty Duke.


More than a half-century later, the story “The Miracle Worker” tells does not have the same cultural prominence. Education and awareness about disabilities — not just Keller’s deaf-blindness, but all kinds of developmental impairments — are more advanced and ingrained than ever before. Yet at the Wheelock Family Theatre, Gibson’s play remains a beloved and significant piece of the repertoire. On Friday, the theater opens a month long run of the play.

It’s the third time Susan Kosoff has directed the play at Wheelock, and she intends it to be her last. Kosoff, the theater’s longtime producer, is set to retire after the show closes. A cofounder of Wheelock Family Theatre in 1981, she said the play has meaning for her “on a lot of different levels.”

“For me, the play is about what good teaching is about,” Kosoff explained after a recent rehearsal, sitting in the middle of the empty theater. Wheelock College’s commitment to education and the theater’s ongoing outreach to members of the deaf and blind communities give the drama particular meaning, she said.


There’s also a personal attachment. “The Miracle Worker” was the first play Kosoff saw in Boston in 1959, while she was attending boarding school. Bancroft and Duke were in that production, preparing for their move to Broadway.
“I remember it clear as day,” Kosoff said. “I loved it. I was very moved by it.”

The playwright Gibson, who died in 2008 at 94, lived in Stockbridge for much of his life.

His best-known play is a masterwork, said Kosoff. Unlike stage directions in other scripts, which can be open to varying degrees of interpretation, those written into “The Miracle Worker” demand strict adherence, she said.

“That’s a lesson hard-won — you really have to pay attention to these stage directions.”

For young students, Helen Keller is still a familiar historic figure. Eight-year-old Audree Hedequist of Wellesley did a report on Keller in her second-grade class. Soon after, she learned that Wheelock would be producing “The Miracle Worker.” Having appeared in previous shows there, including “Charlotte’s Web” and “A Tale of Two Cities,” she auditioned for the part of Helen.

To prepare, she tried more than once to watch the original “Miracle Worker” movie, she said.

“I couldn’t stay up for the entire movie,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “It’s so long!”

She got the part anyway. When her parents came to pick her up, she sprinted from the theater.

“I ran up to the car and I’m like, ‘Yea! Yea! Yea!”, she recalled, sitting in a deserted student lounge after rehearsal with her father, Dan, an orthopedic surgeon at Children’s Hospital Boston, and her mother, Celeste, a lawyer by training who now has her hands full with four children — three of them boys, all younger than Audree.

By the age of 4, Audree already had the acting bug. She saw a school production of “The Wiz” and declared, “I want to do this!”

Soon she was writing plays of her own. “I used to bring a script every day to school,” she said, eating a bag of fruit snacks from a vending machine. “I had a little club.” She is now fully committed to acting and writing for the theater, she said: “Both would be good.”
After watching a few rehearsals of “The Miracle Worker,” Dan Hedequist saw just how difficult the part of Helen could be for his daughter. “So much of our lives, we’re watching people when they talk,” he said, which, of course, Helen cannot do.

The family is especially pleased that the play has been so instructive about people with disabilities, said Celeste Hedequist.

“Helen was such a great figure,” she said. “We’re really proud that the story offers so much hope to so many people.”

For research, the family made a trip to the Perkins School for the Blind in Watertown, where Anne Sullivan studied and later brought her student.

“It was really cool to touch the big glass globe that Helen touched,” said Audree.

In past performances, Wheelock has cast slightly older children in the role of Helen, said Kosoff, but she believes Audree is mature enough to handle it.

“She has amazing concentration for a kid that age,” she said. “We knew she could do it, and that her family would be dedicated to it.”

In most scenes, the untutored Helen’s wildness has been understandably fun for an 8-year-old to portray.

“I love the parts where I get picked up and thrown everywhere, where I’m going through [backstage] escape stairs and running up and down the hallways,” Audree said, her pink sneakers dangling over the side of the couch. “It’s really fun to run around and throw things everywhere.

“I don’t do that at my house,” she added, glancing over at her parents.

Audree’s inherent sweetness has created one challenge in particular, said her director. For the play’s famous confrontations between Helen and her teacher, the young actor has been reluctant to behave as aggressively as the role demands.
“She’s a pretty sweet kid, and she has to really slap Annie,” said Kosoff. “She has to swing the doll and hit her. We’re still working on that.”

James Sullivan can be reached at sullivanjames@verizon.net.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Introduction

I walked gingerly onto the stage wearing black leggings and an oversized green blouse. Pink frosty lipstick. I carried a purse daintily over my shoulder. Stepping over splintered pieces of wood and kicking up sawdust with my ballet flats, I had arrived. September, 1992. Day one on the job at the Wheelock Family Theatre. I looked like a fish on a bicycle out on that stage but they put me right to work. "You can start by pulling nails out of those 2x4s." I did it. I did it even though I really didn't want to because I already knew, within those first moments, that this place had something I wanted.

This is not an uncommon story. You can ask any of the "veterans." The kids who have taken classes, the actors, the teems of work-study students over the years, kids who got their first taste of live theatre in our seats. The dates and players might be different, but the message is the same: The Wheelock Family Theatre changed my life.

I made my best friends at the theatre. I met all kinds of people. I became part of something important. I chose my major because of that work-study job and I have made some of the best memories of my life. Sweeping that stage, setting props in those wings, running the spot up in that light booth, ticketing patrons back in that office, meeting the intermission rush behind that concession stand, and audio describing shows up on that third balcony.

WFT is a part of me, which is why I am delighted to blog on its behalf. I have big plans. Interviews and photos and anecdotes (oh my!) that will hopefully draw you all in to the giant, warm hug that is "the Theatre."

Thanks for reading.
More soon.

-Robin Fradkin Matthews