Dear Santa,
I was surprised to learn from your website that you’re already taking pre-orders for next Christmas. But it seems to me to be a very practical service and I already know what I want next year, so here goes: Next year I want Nathan Allen to write some new pop songs instead of e-mails asking for my money.
Given your busy schedule, Santa, I would imagine you’re like a lot of fans who didn’t discover the House Theatre of Chicago until the past few years, when the critical success of the pop culture-fused plays the company produced at that beautifully dilapidated warehouse—the Viaduct—brought in scads of nontraditional theatergoers. Now that you’re on the mailing list, though, you know from artistic director Nate Allen’s e-mails that after the box-office bonanza of House’s show The Sparrow—originally a storefront exercise that was eventually seen by 40,000 people—the company lost its lease on the Viaduct, where it made its rep, produced four shows in four different spaces to diminishing-audience impact, and has now fallen on such hard times that it might have to cancel its next show, The Rose and the Rime.
Now, you probably noticed in the e-mail Allen sent out before Thanksgiving—and in the even more desperate follow-up sent out this week by the company’s board president (and Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me host) Peter Sagal—that the House Theatre has a tendency to slightly overestimate its place in the world. Allen and Sagal mistakenly confuse the importance of their cause with that of David Plouffe. (You’re not the only guy to notice the nearly identical nature of the House fundraising emails and President-elect Obama’s fundraising emails, Santa, nor were you hallucinating when the second email came in under the headline “Save Chicago” and suggested anti-Sarah Palin-level outrage was an appropriate response to the House’s basic fiscal challenges in the same week we found out half a million Americans lost their jobs last month.)
But I gotta tell you, Santa, before latecomers like you were turned onto the House, Nate Allen was writing righteous pop music. Even though the live recordings of the songs from San Valentino and the Melancholy Kid and Curse of the Crying Heart are so ghetto they’re almost unlistenable, I still have them in my iPod. (Allen’s country ballad “Angeline,” accompanied by Maria McCullough’s heartbreaking fiddle, could probably be recorded in Nashville tomorrow.) In the company’s early years, before Allen’s artistic director duties pulled him away from the stage, he wrote the score and script for all three installments of the Valentine Trilogy—which took three years to produce in its entirety—and starred in them as well.
These days, though, Allen has to be more worried about writing emails to potential financial angels than anything he might write for them to come out and see. It’s a lousy thing that the nonprofit system does to artists—turning them into administrators so that they barely have the time to make the art that earned them a business in the first place—and one that no artistic director ever figures out a way to fix completely.
For years there have been gripes from the bars to the blogs about the House’s success (including a few disgruntled sentiments from me). Some peers of the House were jealous of its seeming overnight success. Meanwhile, wise fans worried about how the avalanche of critical praise and audience enthusiasm could accidentally mangle a good thing.
I don’t think the world—or the House—will end if The Rose and the Rime doesn’t make it to the stage as originally planned. But if Chicago hears another plea for help from the company before it hears some new tunes, the House will be in a Chinese Democracy-like holding pattern that raises fan and critical expectations to the point of absurdity and only does more damage.
So please, Santa. If this show isn’t meant to happen for the House, can you at least give them some time and space to make something fresh and different (the Rose plot description, with its mystical small town and the girl who changes, sounds uncomfortably Sparrow-like). Ideally it would be somewhere far from critical and audience expectation and the demands of running a business. Someplace where Nate could write some new songs for my iPod rather than panhandling emails geared to make me feel even more guilty than I already do on an average day.
Anyway. Thanks for reading. If this gift doesn’t work out, I could also use a Swiffer.
Your friend,
Christopher Piatt
Thank you. While I have seen and loved the House shows for years (I was one of those fans not turned onto them by the Sparrow but rather by their earlier work) I was horrified and offended by their Obama-comparison appeal. It was a disgusting way to solicit support and has made me want to completly write the company off. After insulting the hopes and dreams of millions they went on to ask me for money- they’ll have to do a lot to win back my trust which they’ll need to ever get my money.
Totally. It’s a little horrifying how full of themselves they are. Even when it’s supposed (I hope) to be a little tongue in cheek it comes off rotten. It’s a little absurd that they are in this position to begin with–I know times are tough, but given their past success surely a little forethought and planning would have forestalled the panicked emails, facebook posts, letters, invitations to fundraisers, and on and on. If they send me one more solicitation I’m going to assume it’s a sinking ship, and why on earth would I support that?
I loved Peter Pan and Houdini. I even liked The Sparrow. But this is absurd.
Yes thank you! After I got the Sagal email I was desperately emailing a few friends with the basic idea “Am I crazy, or is this really annoying?” I like the House, regularly attend their shows, etc. But as a theater artist myself, the assumption that the fate of Chicago theater rests on their shoulders is just plain offensive.
Really, House? I appreciate you guys and I thought The Sparrow was pretty good, but insulting St. Louis along with comparing yourself to Obama? I’m FROM St. Louis. There’s a few million humans there who are in tough financial times along with the rest of us and you go and insult them? Guess what, I’m in a theater company and we’ve got no damned money either, but you don’t see us writing long-winded emails about how much we mean to the city. Eat it, dudes. Chicago was pretty rad before you came along, and it’ll do just fine without you. Now, hows about you all eat some humble pie, and write a story that doesn’t involve a magical girl and comic book BS. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
The fundraising approach the House is using here is obviously attracting the wrong type of attention.
I talk briefly about that sort of thing a while back. The post is here
http://missionparadox.typepad.com/the_mission_paradox_blog/2007/06/watching-a-trai.html
I just think it would be nice if there were a way to weed out theater artists from funding appeals. I get them all the time, from a variety of companies. I understand that appeal letters are part of doing business, but those of us that help make theater in this city, especially those of us that tend to do it for little to no money, contribute to the well being of Chicago theater in other ways. Asking us to contribute money to your particular company always offends me just a wee bit.
This is an interesting quandary. Full disclosure: I’m in the business of sending appeal letters. I’m the Director of Development for the Neo-Futurists (see Christopher’s kind words about us elsewhere on his blog).
On the one hand, we fundraising types need to infuse our requests with urgency. On the other, we overplay our hand and get the kind of blow-back we see above. I myself received these appeals and was neither “horrified”, as Lili was, nor was I offended as Eric quite clearly is. But then, I’m not from St. Louis.
And I further concur with Rob that there are numerous ways of contributing to the health and vitality of the field that have nothing to do with money.
My reaction to the House appeal was that they let hyperbole get the best of them.
But money is, perhaps lamentably, a necessary ingredient in making live theater. Even though it may not look it, it’s expensive to produce - we pay all our artists, we have Andersonville overhead, etc. We also keep our admission artificially low - tickets don’t come near to covering our nut. We regard it as a question of economic justice to do everything we can to ensure that everybody can afford to see our shows, so we keep our prices bargain-basement low.
But because admissions don’t cut it, we are compelled to ask those who have a fondness for us and have the means to kick in a little extra. Does it suck to have to to this? Yeah. Can it be embarrassing? It can. Is it nonetheless necessary? It is.
So I’d encourage all respondents to this item to just gut-check it - when you receive an appeal, just ask yourself: are you persuaded and can you afford it? Great. Pony up. If you’re not, don’t take it personally - we need to ask. That’s just how it is.
And as the economy keeps rocketing into the crapper, it’s an unfortunate consequence of this maelstrom that we in the fundraising world get panicky and overreach a bit.
Happy holidays everybody.
best, Ian at Neo-Futurists
i agree that it’s not fun to see our cities theatre ’super heroes’ asking for money like that, but it’s also not fun to see our coworkers responding this way to the company doing the most important original work in town right now. there’s only a few of them. these people are our friends and family in this city and aren’t content doing bullshit like the glass menagerie or whatever else people are doing to make a buck or to show off their theatre school diplomas. they are helping all of us. if they fall, it wont be the end of the world, (which i dont think segal was saying) but it would be a blow to us, the performers who want to work on new and exciting projects. so give em a coupla bucks and be fucking grateful they are here and not in st. louis.
I was among the aghast recipients of that fund-raising letter and am comforted that most people here have the good sense to reject the letter’s basic premise. It’s not that we don’t like being asked for money, it’s that we don’t like patently false exaggerations and a bullying tone. So, with all due respect Mr. Lawfer, it must be said that the House is decidedly not doing the most important original work now and they never have, their failure won’t be a blow to all of us, and of course their work is showing off their theater school training. But so what? Aren’t they worthy of support because their shows are a good time? And look, if they fail or produce one less show, then maybe “the performers who want to make new and exciting projects” will start making them on their own. I’ve got a great idea for a show and this cool space where we can rehearse . . .
It should be noted: The House didn’t simply “lose” their lease. They broke it to take their work to Steppenwolf. If The Viaduct then refused to work with them afterward, we should at least recognize why.
I am new to this city, or, at least am not an old Chicago-ey actor, yet. I do think that Mr. Lawfer was just making a point to the solidarity of the community. This is a tough place for non-equity companies to be in, and we should always tryo to help in which ever way we can to make sure that we don’t lose one of our own. On that note, Happy Holidays!!
Boy…it must be horrible listening to Chicago Public Radio during their fundraising periods, huh? Always “asking for money”! Annoying! And how dare the house use levity (sensitive from St. Louis up there) and an election that was in the forefront of all of our minds to ask for some financial help instead of writing a bland plea with a nice letterhead. What did you expect from the House? Either way, as artists we are all in this together. I don’t know if Christopher Piatt meant his blog entry to be this devisive (and if you did, shame on you Chris, use your pen to do some good and make some constructive criticisms instead of trying to seem witty, I mean a “Chinese Democracy” joke? So 2006.) but let’s all take a deep breath and realize that coming together and creatng is what we do and must continue to do together. Or we’ll all be asking for money.