THE VINEYARD THEATER may be the least well-known successful
theater company in New York. And the artistic director,
Douglas Aibel, is such a nice guy that he doesn't take offense
when that's pointed out to him. In fact, he agrees. ''We ask
ourselves why every day,'' he admitted.
One possible answer, he
suspects, is the eclectic programming the Vineyard presents at
its 125-seat theater on East 15th Street in Manhattan. The
16-year-old nonprofit company has mounted musicals that range
from the biographical drama about the jazz legend Billie
Holiday (''Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill'') to the arty
chamber works of Polly Pen (''Goblin Market,'' ''Bed and
Sofa'') to a revival of Kander and Ebb's 1965 Broadway
song-and-dance show ''Flora, the Red Menace.'' Among dramatic
offerings, it has produced a pair of savage comedies by Nicky
Silver, ''Pterodactyls'' and ''Raised in Captivity.'' Yet its
current hit, Paula Vogel's ''How I Learned to Drive,'' is a
delicate memory play about the relationship between a
pedophile and his niece.
Perhaps this artistic
smorgasbord, Mr. Aibel said recently, makes it difficult for
the Vineyard to achieve brand-name recognition.
''Or it may just come down to
the fact that I'm very shy,'' he confessed somewhat
sheepishly. ''I'm famous at this theater for hiding behind a
pillar when anyone with any importance in the world comes
down.''
It's true that when Mr. Aibel
ducks around his partition to greet visitors, it's hard to be
sure whether he is the artistic director or an assistant sent
to lead the way. As it happens, Mr. Aibel doesn't have an
assistant. The Vineyard's full-time staff numbers five people.
The tall, curly-haired 39-year-old sitting in his cubicle
sipping iced coffee is not only the artistic director but also
the literary manager, the casting director and, apparently,
the janitor. When several actors rehearsing in the theater
needed someone to turn on the work lights, Mr. Aibel excused
himself to handle the task.
Compared with major New York
nonprofit institutions like Lincoln Center Theater, the
Roundabout and Manhattan Theater Club, the Vineyard may be
small potatoes. The company produces three full productions
and two workshops each season on a modest annual budget of
$650,000 for a mere 1,470 subscribers. The Vineyard's low
profile is deceptive, however. It has the longevity and track
record of a theater three times its size. Hardly a season goes
by without the company's producing a popular or critical
success.
''I put the Vineyard in a
category with New York Theater Workshop,'' said Andre Bishop,
the artistic director of Lincoln Center Theater. ''They both
took about 10 years to hit their stride. Now that the
Vineyard's work is beginning to be known, they have retained
the flexibility and family atmosphere of a smaller theater,
yet they're widely admired and respected by everybody. It's a
very enviable position to be in.''
For all Mr. Aibel's shyness,
he can shed it when he needs to. Case in point: Edward Albee's
''Three Tall Women.'' When Mr. Aibel, a self-declared
''passionate'' Albee fan, heard a few years ago that the play
was receiving its American premiere at a small summer theater
in Woodstock, he asked the writer's agent, the late Esther
Sherman, if he could read the script. ''She didn't want to
send it to me,'' he remembered. ''I was very persistent. I
called her almost every day for three weeks.''
Finally, he succeeded in
getting the rights to the play. The Vineyard hired the same
actors (including Myra Carter and Marian Seldes) and director
(Lawrence Sacharow) who had done it in Woodstock. ''I think
the Vineyard was able to contribute in some way to a good
production getting better,'' Mr. Aibel said. ''Three Tall
Women'' became the biggest hit in the Vineyard's history,
moving to a long commercial run at the Promenade Theater and
in 1994 earning Mr. Albee his third Pulitzer Prize.
''One of the great things
about Doug is that he's not afraid to show his love and
enthusiasm,'' said Ms. Vogel. She experienced his passion when
she sent him a first draft of ''How I Learned to Drive.'' He
called to offer her a production, before hearing the play
aloud and without requiring the months of rewrites and
workshops that writers typically refer to as ''development
hell.''
The Vineyard's 1997-98 season
opens in October with the New York premiere of ''The Batting
Cage,'' a comedy by Joan Ackermann, a Massachusetts
playwright, starring Veanne Cox about two sisters on a journey
to scatter the ashes of a third. That production, to be
directed by Lisa Peterson, will be followed by a new Nicky
Silver play, ''The Maiden's Prayer,'' which Mr. Aibel thinks
will surprise a lot of people: ''It's not a farce. It has a
comic voice but it's a determinedly serious play about two
women.''
LATER IN THE SEASON, the
theater plans to present the world premiere of a Tina Landau
and Ricky Gordon musical, ''Dream True (My Life With Vernon
Dexter),'' which follows two men and their friendship from
Wyoming to New York over several decades.
The Vineyard's penchant for
producing quirky material on a shoestring goes back to its
beginnings. The company was founded in 1981 by Barbara Zinn
Krieger, a former teacher and cabaret singer, in a minuscule
71-seat theater inside the Phipps Plaza houses on East 26th
Street. Ms. Krieger originally envisioned a multi-arts center
serving the surrounding Kips Bay neighborhood with not only
plays and musicals but also opera, chamber music, jazz and art
exhibits. When the theater productions started creating a
stir, she realized, she said, ''if the theater was going to
grow, there needed to be an inside man and an outside man.''
She handed over the artistic directorship to Mr. Aibel, then a
freelance director not long out of Vassar College who had been
working as a volunteer. He handled the day-to-day
responsibilities of putting on the shows, while Ms. Krieger
took charge of
long-range planning.
Five years off the starting
block, the Vineyard found itself with two hit musicals running
Off Broadway, ''Lady Day'' and ''Goblin Market.'' The company
began to feel they were outgrowing their nest and needed a new
home. Ms. Krieger, the daughter of a prominent real estate
developer, spent two years mustering the community support it
took to convince the developer William Zeckendorf to donate a
raw space in the basement of what used to be the S. Klein
department store in Union Square. Mr. Zeckendorf and his
partners got a $750,000 tax write-off and the Vineyard got
free space (though it pays maintenance fees).
As executive director, Ms.
Krieger led another two-year campaign to raise $2.8 million to
build the Gertrude and Irving Dimson Theater (named after her
parents), which opened in May 1989. The 10,000-square-foot
theater, which can be reconfigured for a proscenium or thrust
stage, features risers donated by the Fox television network
and seating discarded by the Minskoff Theater when it was
redecorated to house ''Sunset Boulevard.''
After a few years of settling
into the new space, Mr. Aibel started to worry. ''About 1992,
I began to feel we were losing our way,'' he said. ''We were
trying so hard to fill this huge room and fulfill everybody's
expectations, and something was getting lost in the work.''
Mr. Aibel said he had
stretched the company's resources to the limit to produce a
revival of Marc Blitzstein and Joseph Stein's 1959 musical
based on Sean O'Casey's ''Juno and the Paycock,'' which
audiences loved and the critics panned. In addition, his best
friend, Stephen Milbank, who had been the musical director on
several Vineyard shows, died of AIDS that year. ''I was at the
point of thinking, 'Ugh, I just want to give up,' '' the
director said.
He dealt with his despair by
making a list of projects he considered ''sort of crazy, that
people had brought to me that I normally would have been
afraid to undertake.'' One was Mr. Silver's ''Pterodactyls,''
a dark, absurdist comedy about a young man with AIDS who
returns to his dysfunctional Philadelphia family. Another was
''Christina Alberta's Father,'' an ambitious musical with
book, lyrics and score by Ms. Pen. Adapted from an obscure H.
G. Wells novel, it followed the fantastical odyssey of a
laundry man in a small English town who, convinced that he is
the reincarnation of an ancient Sumerian king, moves to
London, trying to attract followers and save the world.
Mr. Aibel said he had told
Ms. Krieger and the theater's managing director, Jon Nakagawa:
''What I really want to do is shut down for a year and do lab
productions of these projects. I don't want to have to face
the press or answer to anybody else's expectations.'' With
their blessing, he mounted workshop productions of the shows.
Then, to the bewilderment of some subscribers, he turned
around and presented full productions of the same shows the
next season. The warm reviews and awards that followed were
nice but not the point. More important, Mr. Aibel said, ''I
felt rejuvenated; the juices were flowing.''
In retrospect, he added, the
crisis of confidence in 1992 enabled him to avoid making the
mistake he had watched other nonprofit theaters make:
expanding staff, subscription base and annual budget until
they became trapped trying to please everybody. The key to the
Vineyard's survival, Mr. Aibel said, was staying small enough
to take chances on projects he believed in.
The composer Ms. Pen said:
''I don't usually go around quoting Roseanne Barr. But she
once said the reason she's a star is that she cares the most.
That's the way Doug is. He cares the most.''
With the director Andre
Ernotte, Ms. Pen has created a total of four shows at the
Vineyard. ''Bed and Sofa,'' the most recent, is a
three-character musical based on a 1926 Russian silent film.
''The process has been very
different with each show,'' said Ms. Pen. ''Doug said almost
nothing to me about 'Goblin Market.' With 'Christina Alberta's
Father,' it was almost terrifying how perceptive his notes
were. He helped shape the work in ways producers never do
anymore.''
IT IS NO ACCIDENT THAT
artists feel a kindred spirit in Mr. Aibel. He grew up ''a
theater-obsessed kid'' in Roslyn on Long Island. His father
took him to Broadway musicals as a child, starting with ''110
in the Shade'' when he was 5. ''I remember every minute of
it,'' he said. ''I remember the fake Mylar rain coming down at
the end and the leading lady, Inge Swenson, being very tall.''
At Vassar, he studied
directing and design. He learned his way around the
professional theater by working as an intern at the Circle
Repertory Company, Playwrights Horizons and Circle in the
Square. A job in the development office at Manhattan Theater
Club led to his meeting Ms. Krieger and joining forces with
her. While running the Vineyard Theater, Mr. Aibel has also
developed a busy second career as a casting director on such
films as ''Five Corners,'' ''Dead Man Walking'' and ''Little
Odessa.''
He probably could not produce
the kind of unpredictable work the Vineyard does if he didn't
have his own streak of eccentricity. ''I have this one habit
that's sort of unusual,'' Mr. Aibel admitted. ''There's a
particular technical rehearsal on every show where the actors
are excused, and the lighting designer sits there with the
director for hours on end designing every little light cue.
Usually you have an intern or an assistant stage manager who
acts as a stand-in for the actors. I always volunteer for
that, and I'll spend 10 hours onstage standing in the light.''
Unquestionably a weird thing
for the boss at any theater to do, and designers have yelled
at him for being such a nut. Still, he said: ''It's an
interesting, quiet time for me. You're there, observing the
props, seeing the rake of the stage, seeing the chairs in the
theater. It sensitizes you to the work that lies ahead. No
critic and no member of the audience has a clue how hard it is
to do what the actors do up there. By literally standing in
the actors' shoes, I really get a feeling for what they're
going through.''
New York Times, September 7,
1997
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