The idea of a national theatre is as old as America itself. Without going back to the Revolutionary War for examples of failed attempts to create one, suffice it to say that the 20th century alone offers lots of illustrations. Eva Le Gallienne, in the 1920s, formed the Civic Repertory Theatre partly to forge a company of nationwide stature. In the Depression, the Federal Theatre, part of the Works Progress Administration, was a governmentally administered go at a like idea. After World War II, the major producers, writers, directors, and critics of the era repeatedly cried out for a national theatre, and when President Dwight D. Eisenhower finally laid the cornerstone for Lincoln Center in 1959, many felt the embryo of one might at last have been formed.
Today, no one doubts that Lincoln Center Theater is one of the most vital not-for-profit companies in the nation, but its status as a national theatre—indeed, the question of what a national theatre is—is open to debate. So at the dawn of the 21st century, and in the painful, soul-searching aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks, a new national-theatre movement is underway. It is called, appropriately, the American National Theatre (ANT). And as much of a long shot as history's lessons may make it seem, this national theatre may yet come to pass.
Sean Cullen, an actor with extensive credits both on the New York stage and in regional nonprofits, has spearheaded ANT from the very beginning—an idea, he says, that precedes the attacks on the World Trade Center. He was joined in a Back Stage interview last week by actress Blair Brown, a member of ANT's board, and Christopher Cline, a financier and board member who also serves as the organization's treasurer. Over the last two years, Cullen has worked feverishly to refine his vision for ANT; to build a dynamic and diverse, high-powered board of directors; and to persuade a long list of major theatrical figures countrywide to offer their support. Last year, ANT submitted an application to the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation after the organization asked for proposals from arts and culture groups who wished to help redevelop the World Trade Center site. The theatre industry sat up and took notice.
Cullen's vision for ANT is straightforward. It will be, as he puts it, a "magnet theatre," a locus for quality productions from around the nation to be imported and showcased—not unlike what commercial producers do when they find a property they like and present it for a Broadway or Off-Broadway run, but in a nonprofit environment.
And there is another difference, one even more significant: The productions will be selected by a jury of theatre professionals, one that may include playwrights, directors, artistic directors, designers, dramaturges, and, in a rather daring approach, perhaps theatre critics and academicians as well. They will all be appointed by an artistic director, and will spend 15-month terms reading new scripts, listening to new scores, engaging in dialogues with artists, and, finally, will travel the country to evaluate as many as 200 actual productions.
The theatres themselves will be members of the League of Resident Theatres (LORT), operating on various contracts, from large (A) to small (D). These theatres will each agree to mount one or two new works, plays or musicals, each season; to ensure the jury can choose from the widest possible production pool, an added "ring" of established, reputable nonprofits from around the nation will be identified and their shows visited by the jury. Whether by consensus or by majority vote (ANT hasn't decided which method they'll opt for), the jury will choose productions to come to ANT—a representative sample of the best of the American theatre in what Cullen calls "the theatrical capital of America and the arts capital of the world."
Cullen is not about to play wait-and-see. Among those supporting his venture is Polshek Partnership Architects. At a crowded press briefing on Mon., Jan. 26 at Tribeca's Odeon Restaurant, Cullen and his team unveiled an architectural model for a proposed three-theatre facility at Ground Zero, one designed pro bono by a partner in the firm, Richard Olcott. Architects are not known for working on spec, but then, the idea of ANT appeals to a wide spectrum of believers.
The Why of ANT
The roster of those attached to the ANT cause reads like a who's who of the theatre. The artistic advisory board includes, just for starters, actors (Kathleen Chalfant, Brendan Fraser, John Leguizamo, Jesse L. Martin, Julianna Margulies, Jerry Orbach, Liev Schreiber, Stephanie Zimbalist), directors (Pamela Berlin, Doug Hughes, Emily Mann, Carey Perloff, Harold Prince, Bartlett Sher, Laird Williamson), and playwrights (Donald Margulies, Richard Nelson). The board is filled with corporate executives, philanthropists, well-connected members of the society scene, and, of course, dedicated arts lovers and arts advocates.
Perhaps most important of all, top-drawer artistic directors from coast to coast are especially enthusiastic about the project. They see an opportunity to move their shows onto the international stage that is the New York scene. As a result, they may envision a chance to get a critical leg up on fundraising. A berth at the ANT, it would stand to reason, will allow regional theatres to better vie for the governmental, corporate, and foundation grants that seem to be tougher to get with each passing year.
But beyond economics, does America need an American National Theatre?
"It's a question I've often asked myself," Cullen says. "I'm a little like an old fashioned cannon. I've been all loaded up, having worked at 15 or 16 theatres around the country, and having been so loaded, and having seen the way things are done in the theatre in this country, I think there's a real need for a theatre that celebrates the work of the whole nation." Further, he dismisses the idea that our regional theatre system is our national theatre. "There is not an actor or a set designer or a playwright or a director in any of the regional theatres who wouldn't be delighted to see his or her work transported to New York. That is where the bigger audience is, that is where the press is, and that is where the critical acclaim is going to mean the most." ANT, he says, is going to be a "bully pulpit for the regional theatre."
"My ideal for a national theatre, when I first thought about it, is a national company—I mean, I am an actor," Blair Brown added. "And there is the danger of a real hubris in thinking that all the best things come to New York. But at the same time, so many productions from the Guthrie, the Alley, the smaller regionals—they don't come here, they don't get noticed. For years I can remember friends telling me about Richard Easton at the Old Globe—they'd call me and say, 'The best actor in America is working in San Diego.' I think people are inspired by this American National Theatre idea. It breaks the logjam of products that come just from England, as if we're still a colony. It makes people feel optimistic about the theatre—our theatre."
And there is, of course, the question of geography—an acknowledgement that it is impossible for theatregoers or practitioners to get to all of the great productions that happen in a given year around the country. "If you have a play that does really well in Nottingham, England," Brown says, people in London can get to see it. "If you see something in San Diego or San Francisco or places like Cincinnati, Phoenix, Denver, Atlanta—in all likelihood I'm not going to be able to fly out and see it."
It also works, she says, the other way around. "If [American Conservatory Theatre Artistic Director] Carey Perloff does something great in San Francisco, I'm not going to get to see it and she, if there's something great at Manhattan Theatre Club, in all likelihood isn't going to be able to see that. It's not about taking anything away or even prioritizing New York, like that makes the work better. It's getting beyond having lots of little duchies around the country."
If there was any concern that ANT would somehow steal the thunder from America's regional theatre movement, Cullen says the organization's mission makes it clear that they, in fact, are intended to be primary beneficiaries.
"Artistic directors have to not only be concerned about what goes on their stages artistically, but they have to answer to boards of directors, general managers, managing directors, all of the people in management—and many of them are already on our advisory board," Cullen concludes, rattling off a few extra names to drive home the point.
The How of ANT
When the scale model of the proposed home for ANT was unveiled in late January, the project's price tag was also announced—between $195 million and $215 million to build a facility that will sit, cheek by jowl, with the proposed 1,776-foot Freedom Tower. In an age in which philanthropy is down, government funding is unpredictable at best, and when corporate and foundation-based largesse can never be taken for granted, what convinces ANT board member and treasurer Christopher Cline that a fledgling group—one with no production track record—can actually raise the funds to succeed?
"I was the chief financial officer for an interactive television company that got bought," Cline replied. "One thing it taught me was that when something new comes along and it's a good enough idea, the pool of interest and the pool of money expands. Particularly if our application to build at Ground Zero is accepted, just imagine going to a corporation and saying, 'We're the American National Theatre at Ground Zero—how would you like to be our major corporate sponsor?' You can imagine many Fortune 500 companies—someone who is perhaps an executive, an arts lover, a theatre buff—identifying this as an example of where they can do good, where they can be involved in the ground floor of something that will bring renown to their corporation and national exposure."
Cline may be right, but at the same time, $200 million capital campaigns are not casual undertakings. Even so esteemed and accomplished an organization as the Kennedy Center, which is in the midst of planning a $650 million capital campaign, has to carefully craft its strategy and its timeline. Moreover, in a time of uncertain, perhaps finite, funding for charitable causes, why should a benefactor of, say, Roundabout Theatre Company or Lincoln Center Theater switch their allegiance to an idea that has yet to be proven?
"I don't think we'll be taking funds away from other theatre groups," Cline asserted. "You could make the argument that perhaps there is a finite amount of funding available for all charitable causes, and that perhaps we are somehow raiding that finite pool, but honestly, I don't think that's even the case. In fact, I don't think Roundabout goes to Lincoln Center Theater's supporters and says, 'Give your money to us instead.' Theoretically, we are all of us on the same side of this equation—the promotion and the development of the theatre," a statement that drew nods from Cullen and Brown.
"We believe that especially if we are selected for the World Trade Center site, fundraising is not going to be an issue. And other organizations should not be threatened because we would truly be a national theatre, drawing financial resources from around the country and hopefully in a way that will not draw funds away from others.
"Sean, Blair, and all of us are dreaming a giant dream from the very start," Cline concluded. "Even if the giant dream doesn't come to fruition immediately, we will make it happen. And we may not make it happen in a $200 million facility—maybe there's an intermediate step to take, or a preliminary step before the intermediate step. But one way or the other, there is going to be an American National Theatre."