Acting Out

BY JAY GABLER
Photo by Craig VanDerSchaegen

Flawed Genius, from the
2007 Minnesota Fringe
FestivalWhen Jon Ferguson’s British theater troupe announced plans to perform its show Shakespeare for Breakfast in Minneapolis, the writer/director/actor said, “Why are we going to the Midwest? Nothing happens in the Midwest.” That was in 2002. How times have changed.

Today, Ferguson is a mainstay of the Twin Cities’ theater scene, earning raves for his moving, quirky shows including Please Don’t Blow Up Mr. Boban and You’re My Favorite Kind of Pretty.

He says he was won over by the supportive artistic community and appreciative audiences. “I’ve made more plays in Minneapolis since 2005 than I made from 1997 to 2005 in England,” he says. “People here are open to your ideas. If they like your idea, they’ll embrace you, they’ll try to help you.”

Off-Leash Theater’s
A Gift for Planet
BX63The Twin Cities have long been an important hub of American theater. In 1960, Sir Tyrone Guthrie chose Minneapolis as the home of his ambitious new theater company, which would lure world-class talents to the center of the continent. Since late 2006, the Guthrie theater (www.. guthrietheater.org) has been in a new award-winning riverfront facility as the city’s flagship company. the venue is also used for touring shows like last year’s King Lear by the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Savvy local theatergoers, however, recognize that what is most distinctive about the Twin Cities’ scene today has more to do with productions like Shakespeare for Breakfast—a slapstick Shakespearian medley—than old standbys like King Lear. the Minneapolis-St. Paul area is home to a buzzing community of independent theater producers and small companies mounting work that ranges from traditional to wildly avant-garde. the area is second only to New York in theater seats per capita, and there are typically more than a dozen shows playing at any given time.

Joseph Scrimshaw in
Macbeth’s Awesome
Scottish Castle Party“I’ve heard from colleagues all over the world that they look to the Twin Cities for new and interesting ideas,” says Joseph Scrimshaw, a play-maker known for outrageous comedies like Adventures in Mating, an interactive outing with a dysfunctional couple. “there are so many people trying new things here.”

But why Minnesota? Members of the local theater community say the area combines a fertile artistic scene with reasonable rents and diverse venues. For example, married couple Paul Herwig and Jennifer Ilse codirect the theater company Off -Leash Area (www.offleasharea.org), for which they converted the garage of their South Minneapolis duplex into a 38-seat theater. Audience members can see original works, then stay for a backyard marshmallow roast. In the Twin Cities, says Herwig, “You have a lot of the amenities of a large city like New York or Chicago or Los Angeles, but without the rents.”

Jon Ferguson’s
Please Don’t Blow
Up Mr. BobanThe cozy Herwig-Ilse garage is typical of the adventurous spirit that has seen several unexpected spaces appropriated as performance venues. Red Eye theater (www.redeyetheater.org), a converted dance studio in downtown Minneapolis, is so small that its lobby is split in two—one half on either side of the performance space. St. Paul’s aptly named Loading Dock theater (509 N Sibley Street, St. Paul) occupies a space that formerly housed inventory for a rug dealership. A particularly cherished space is Minneapolis’ tiny Bryant-Lake Bowl theater (www.bryantlakebowl.com), which is accessible only by walking through a bowling alley.

the 30-year-old Theatre de la Jeune Lune (www.jeunelune.org) is widely credited with inspiring a spirit of adventure and whimsy in local theater. Artistic Director Dominique Serrand was a cofounder of the Minneapolis company, which is dedicated to highly physical productions created by collaboration among directors, playwrights and actors. Serrand applauds the wealth of independent spirits who have followed in his company’s wake. there’s nothing wrong with big-business theater, he says, “but I don’t think that’s what makes theater evolve. Institutions kill art.”

Alpha Come Home: A
Bawdy Puppet and
Clown Show, from the
2007 Minnesota Fringe
Festival

Ferguson creates theater in the same collaborative, open-ended spirit as Serrand.

And thanks to the Twin Cities’ aff ordable rehearsal space, Ferguson says he and his collaborators can have the time and space to let a work evolve. “I like to keep it very playful, to get to a place of absurdity and total openness to everyone’s ideas,” he says. “Getting to a place of mischief… it’s what I was expelled from high school for—and now I’m getting paid to do it.”

MINNESOTA FRINGE FESTIVAL

JULY 31 – AUGUST 10

THERE’S NO BETTER WAY to sample the impressive diversity of the Twin Cities’ independent theater scene than to attend the largest fringe festival in the country. More than 150 different shows are performed over an 11-day period at the Fringe Festival, for a total of more than 800 performances.

Many local play-makers made their names through performances at the festival, an event that attracts a national audience and media buzz. “The Fringe is so powerful,” says Jon Ferguson, a successful local writer/director/actor. “You can come out of nowhere and sell a show out.”

To accommodate all of the shows, artists are encouraged to think creatively and “bring their own venues.” In 2007, for example, play-maker Joseph Scrimshaw presented Macbeth’s Awesome Scottish Castle Party at a German restaurant. “It was a very experimental show, an audience participation show making fun of audience participation shows,” he says. “We performed the show 26 times in 11 days. It was exhausting—in a good way.”

The list of companies that won the lottery to appear in this year’s festival was recently released, and it’s clear that theatergoers looking to frolic off the beaten path will once again have plenty of choices. Besides familiar faces such as Scrimshaw, companies appearing at the festivals this year will include Frustrated Muppets, Chain Coffee Productions and Squishy Grapes.