Waldron in debt; artists still have faith

Hardwood floor is hard to take care of; Hannah Moss learned that firsthand.

After every show, she and her cast are on their hands and knees, scrubbing at little flecks of paint they left on the stage of the Rose Firebay.

It’s not a matter of work. It’s love.

For Moss, the Firebay in the John Waldron Arts Center is home – a home that might be closed March 1 if the Bloomington Area Arts Council, the organization in charge of the center, cannot raise $120,000. 

The council released information earlier this month detailing its current financial distress. Data going back to 2004 shows the group has been in the red for six years, averaging annual losses of $183,442.

The proposed solution? Close the Waldron.

Moss and her husband, David Nosko, formed Theatre of the People, a local theater company, in 2008 and have performed all six of their productions in the space.

Moss can tell when other groups have performed in between. They leave remnants: scratches, dirt and paint hide under the folding chairs.

“We want to protect it and make sure it’s here for generations,” Moss said, looking around the Firebay while sewing a costume for the next performance of “The Trial,” the company’s most recent show.

“I’d love to see a show here in 20 years,” she said.

Moss and Nosko said they admit the Firebay is not an ideal performance space. When they first used it, the dressing room had no mirrors or ventilation and comfortably fit only four people – they’ve had casts as large as 34 actors.

Lighting shows is a complicated task. The tracks on the ceiling – leftover from when the space was used as a fire truck bay in the early 1900s – limit the ability to mount lights. Pat French, the show’s technical director, wrestled with cords and a ladder when trying to hang lights before the final dress rehearsal.

The Firebay fits 50 seats comfortably. It’s not perfect, but it’s home. The rustic feel produces a certain romanticism. Theatre of the People sees the space as a challenge to produce innovative sets in an intimate setting.

“You can reach an audience in a totally different way when they’re three feet away as opposed to rows and rows back,” Moss said.

Dwindling dollars

Moss and Nosko said they like the intimacy, but fewer seats means fewer tickets to sell. Fewer ticket sales means less profit.

For their last show, Theatre of the People earned $116. 

When they went to sign their next contract, the Waldron had increased rental costs, nearly doubling what the group currently pays. With the new rates, Moss and Nosko see no hope of turning a profit, even if they sold out every seat.

In the council’s Jan. 7 press release, the business plan laid out includes generating money from Waldron concession sales, preventing Theatre of the People from selling their own concessions, Nosko said.

During their previous show, the company made $110 from concessions. With their total earnings,  they’re left with $6.

And that’s with last year’s rental rates.

For Theatre of the People, the frustration stems from being left in the dark, Moss said. The company had no idea about the price increases until it went to sign a new contract.

“Being given only a few months’ notice was a shame,” Moss said. “We’re a talented group of folks being ousted, and that talented group of folks could have put our skills together to save this place a year ago.”

Questions unanswered

Right now, Nosko has put numbers and contracts aside to finish the set before “The Trial” rehearsal starts. It’s the most intense set they’ve built yet, Moss said, with a wire-fenced wall closing off the stage from the seats.

From the audience, it feels as though you’re peeking into something you shouldn’t be seeing. At times the actors cannot see the audience at all. Instead there’s just a black wall closing the cast in, unable to see what’s out in front of them.

During the rehearsal, Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” played in the air as the cast milled about the room, some practicing lines, others marking graffiti on a set piece along the back wall. Nosko said he wants it covered – with words, pictures, it doesn’t matter. An anarchy sign was painted next to a scrawled “West Side Punkz.”

On the wall, cast-member Ben Monticue carefully sketched Stewie from the television show “Family Guy.”

“If this place closes down, where else are we going to do shows?” Monticue said as he put on a dog collar as part of his costume. “But we’ll find a place.”

In an ideal world, Theatre of the People would remain in the Firebay. They still find themselves being careful, trying not to scratch the floor out of love for the space. But come March, the Waldron might shut its doors to the theater community. Hannah doesn’t know what will happen to the place or if anyone else will be down on their hands and knees scrubbing the floors.

Show goes on

When the cast finished warming up, Nosko called for them to run through the last scene.

The lights dimmed, casting a red glow into the caged set.

The lead character, Josef, stepped forward. The character was arrested for an unknown crime that he did not commit and put on trial. He cannot see the way ahead of him.

“I fear it will end badly,” he said.

The judge attempted to explain the facts but a verdict does not come suddenly.

“You do not have to accept it as true,” the judge said. “You only have to accept it as necessary.”

But soon, the time for judgment comes. Two men dressed in black stripped down Josef. He tried to escape, running through the confined space until he collapses on the ground at the edge of the first row of empty folding chairs.

The judge stepped forward, calling out for the nonexistent audience to determine Josef’s fate. A vote must be taken.

“Will nobody stand up for me?” Josef said to the darkness. “Are there any objections? There must be some!”

But there was only silence.