Showing posts with label Margie Marcus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Margie Marcus. Show all posts

Friday, August 11, 2017

A Visit with Author Mark Larson: How the Chicago Theater Scene Came to Rock the World

I was introduced to Mark Larson via my Chicago connection to the theater/literary scene, Margie Marcus, who shared with me her story of being in on the ground floor with Chicago's Steppenwolf Theater. Her enthusiasm for the arts is infectious, and over the years she's taken advantage of every opportunity she could afford to see her friends' evolving careers in theater and to hear authors talk about their projects.

A few years back Bill Payne, Dean of the College of Fine Arts here at the University of Minnesota, Duluth (UMD) told me about how Chicago's theater scene took root and emerged to foster so many significant careers. Therefore, when Margie mentioned that Mark Larson was producing a book that excavated details and stories from the people who were part of this Chicago phenomenon, it seemed worth pursuing and sharing here.

One common denominator between Margie's story and Mark's is Studs Terkel. Here's a quick Mark Larson snapshot. And here's a little information about his new book which will be released sometime in 2018...

EN: How did Chicago become so influential in the arts?

Mark Larson: In 1953, when my narrative begins, Chicago had very little in the way of homegrown theater for audiences to see. Their choices were mostly touring shows from New York, summer stock and some community theater. But the convergence of such talents as Paul Sills, David Shepherd, Ed Asner, Mike Nichols, Elaine May, Fritz Weaver, Barbara Harris, Joyce (Hiller) Piven, Byrne Piven and others, at the University of Chicago, began to change all that. They formed a company called Playwrights Theater Club, ambitiously mounting some two dozen classic plays in two years, and, in the process, discovering their own significant talent. By 1955, David Shepherd and some of the people who started Playwrights created an improv company called Compass Players that before the end of the decade birthed the now world famous Second City which continues to mass produce huge comedic and dramatic talents. A combination of factors made Chicago a fertile context to foment a creative movement that would eventually yield over 250 working theater companies. The sixties encouraged experimentation and dismissal of all the old rules, the Democratic Convention of ’68 gave creative hearts and minds something significant at which to aim their talents. Housing and performance space was reactively affordable, encouraging young artists to rent an abandoned storefront (which sometimes doubled as a domicile), slam in a stage and some chairs (usually scavenged) and test their talents in front of an audience that seemed willing and eager to see new works and talents in the making. That spirit of risk-taking and making do, and the conditions that encouraged modest beginnings continue today.

EN: Your upcoming book Ensemble Chicago is subtitled The Making of a Theater Town, An Oral History.  How long have you been interviewing the principle players in Chicago's theatre scene? 300 interviews is an impressive number. Who are some of the folks we'll be reading about in your book?

ML: As of the summer of 2016, I have been working on this book for 2.5 years. I have spoken to many artists that readers will have heard of, like Michael Shannon, William H. Macy, Alan Arkin, Barbara Harris, William Petersen, Jeff Perry, Laurie Metcalf, Brian Dennehy, Ed Asner, Jim Belushi, Amy Landecker, David Schwimmer, George Wendt and many more. But the premise of the book is that Chicago became the theater town it is because many talents converged, cooperated and built it together. So there are also interviews with artists, critics and administrators whose names readers will not know but who are no less significant to the story, like sound designers Rob Milburn and Michael Bodeen, stage manager Joe Drummond who just retired after 43 years at the venerable Goodman Theater, and architect, John Morris, who worked with theater companies to design buildings that reflected the aesthetic that brought them to prominence, like Steppenwolf Theater, Black Ensemble Theater and Lookingglass Theater among others.

EN: What have been your own biggest personal takeaways as a result of assembling this book?

ML: Personal takeaways: Memory is a precarious and adventurous ladder. Few people know they’re making history while they’re making it and rarely give it a moment’s thought; fewer still, have that as their intention. And only a handful, years later, are willing or able to admit, Yea, I guess we did do something that became part of history. Many of those who have achieved our traditional notions of success and/or fame still see themselves as the scruffy kids scrounging for a lunch a drink a fuck and a place to perform. Each generation has honored its responsibility to lift up and encourage the next and usually-- not always, but usually--delights in seeing their successors succeed beyond their own achievements. Because ticket prices are relatively low, compared to New York, Chicago audiences see a great deal more theater than most New Yorkers. Sometimes the artists who were cutting-edge, risk-taking, shatter-the-rules radicals of their day have become Luddites today who say things like, “I don’t trust that whole Internet thing.” Rarely do they hesitate to take a walk with me into their past and often stay longer than they originally said they had time for. Even the ones who have become household names wish they could (and sometimes do) perform on a little platform in a storefront with folding chairs and coffee can lights. It’s thrilling to remember that even the most venerable institutions that have changed the city’s figurative as well as literal landscape were once nothing more than an ambitious conversation over a drink in a bar or sitting at the lakefront or laying in a bed. Someone saying, “Know what I’ve been thinking…?”

EN: Though Studs Terkel was born in New York, he's associated with Chicago. Was he, in some way, an inspiration for your "Oral Biography" approach to this subject?

ML: Studs moved with his family to Chicago when he was eight years old, and Chicagoans consider him our guy. Studs was a major influence on my choosing this approach. I had read his books Working and Division Street when I was young and was deeply affected by the ways he honored all lives and many points of view making no distinction between the so-called celebrity and the average working (or non-working) man or woman. That ethos guided my own work, that and his potent ability to listen deeply. I was also privileged to be interviewed by him twice. Once for his book, Race, in which he gave me the false name, Peter Soderstum. He later interviewed me again for Hope Dies Last. While he ultimately did not use the latter interview, I did get to spend another three hours in his living room soaking up an up-close tutorial by the master. I also got to sit in on a live interview he did with Burr Tillstrom in the WFMT studio from which he broadcast live for years.

* * * *
Of our common connection, Mr. Larson had this to say: "I've known Margie a year or so. I was moderating an event for John Mayer who wrote a book on Steppenwolf, and Margie introduced herself afterward." That's how many good things begin, with an introduction.

Like Chicago itself, this book is big. To get a sense of its breadth visit the website, http://ensemble-chicago.com.

* * * *
Thanks, Mark, for making time to share a piece of your story.

Photos: Sarah Elizabeth Larson Photography

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

On the Ground Floor: My Steppenwolf Life by Margie Marcus

1990 groundbreaking at the new theater. 
There's a saying that every person has a story. Over the course of a lifetime I've observed that some people have many stories. One of these people is Margie Marcus, whom I met earlier this year via the internet when she was on a quest to find Tony Scaduto. Scaduto had played an instrumental role in her efforts to meet a man who changed her life, Bob Dylan. That was quite a story.

As we corresponded, she began sharing more stories with me, stories about Ralph Gleason, Lenny Bruce, Joseph Heller, Studs Terkel and others whose lives intersected her own in various forms as a result of her mid-life "awakening." Ultimately this led to her sharing with me her Steppenwolf experience.

It's a story I've wanted to share not because it involves celebrities we're all familiar with. Rather, because she exemplifies what it means to roll up your sleeves and make a difference.

The Steppenwolf Theater is now world-famous and recognized as an important piece of the influential Chicago theater scene. But it wasn't always so.

Margie's passion for the fledgling theater group propelled her to not just buy tickets to see the performances but also impelled her to step forward to ask, "How can I help?" She ultimately became a member of the board, making sacrifices to do what she could to help the Steppenwolf grow.

Here's the link to a rewarding and lively read--> On the Ground Floor: My Steppenwolf Life.

Margie sharing a light moment with Albert Finney at unveiling of new theater.

Photo, Top Right: 1990 Groundbreaking for the new theatre at 1650 N. Halsted. Jeff Perry, co-founder and daughter Zoe in front with shovel. Back: Randy Arney, Tom Irwin, Laurie Metcalf, Terry Kinney and Fran Guinan.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Margie's 1972 Search To Find Bob Dylan: The Encounter (Part 3)

Warfield Theater, November 8, 1979
There are undoubtedly many stories of fans going to extremes to meet their heroes. I knew a couple girls in my junior high school class who climbed through a window into the hotel where the Beatles were staying when the Fab Four came to New York fifty years ago. The efforts Margie Marcus made to find Bob Dylan also seem extraordinary. Unlike my classmates, Margie succeeded in her quest. I share this more as a human interest event, and neither recommend nor endorse this as a means of meeting famous people. Nevertheless, this is the culmination of Margie’s story (continued from yesterday)…. And here’s how it unfolded.

* * * *

FRIDAY, January 14, 1972

By this time it was about 11:30 and I had until 2:30 to meet Tony (Scaduto). Didn’t know what to do-so decided I would take a cab to the Village and try to find Dylan. Incidentally, neither Weberman nor Schechter would tell me where he lived. I happened to find the address inadvertently on a paper that I saw on Weberman’s desk about the birthday party he had given him and I asked him if I could have the booklet. He sold it to me for $1.

So, I had the address but had also been told by everyone along the line that Dylan uses fictitious names and disguises sometimes. I was sure that if I went to this address I would not know what bell to ring. I got out of the cab right in front of his house and went into the hallway. Lo and behold, the first name on the lineup of about 6 doorbells was Dylan. I couldn’t believe it. I rang it and in a moment his wife answered--I recognized her from the picture I had seen in the NY Times. I said “Mrs. Dylan?”

She said “Yes,” and I began to tell her that my name was Margie Marcus, that I came all the way from Deerfield, Illinois just to meet her husband. I was talking through a door and she was up on the first landing. She said she was sorry, they were very busy today and began to go in. I stopped her by pleading with her to tell her husband that I didn’t want to bother or bug him, I only want just to meet him and just couldn’t come all this way on a special trip and be so close and not accomplish it. She didn’t care, repeated that they were busy and closed the door.

She was nice, but just wouldn’t listen. So, I sat on the front radiator for a few minutes wondering what to do. I had my paper with me that I had written about him and wanted to give it to him.

I left the building and walked down about 3 doors and just stood there leaning against a wall. I was bound and determined to stay until hell froze over because I knew now that he was in there and figured maybe if they didn’t see me waiting that at some time maybe he would come out for a walk or something. This was about 10:00 and I waited about 15 minutes during which time I scribbled a note to him writing against the wall on a piece of paper telling him how it would be a high point of my life if he would just read this and if I could meet him, etc. (I have it all in my scrapbook.)

All of a sudden I saw a colored maid wheeling 2 little children in a stroller going down the steps into his building. I figured they had to be his children, they were about the right ages and the way I saw it, there are not many people in that area with colored maids--probably none--so I ran up to her and didn’t ask if she worked for him but just blurted out, “Would you please see that Mr. Dylan gets these papers.” I no sooner got the words out of my mouth, and she didn’t even have a second to answer, when the door opened and out he came with his wife and his guitar. I said either out loud or to myself, “Oh my God, it’s him.” “He walked up the 2 steps and I said, “Mr. Dylan, my name is Margie Marcus, I am from Deerfield, Illinois and I came all this way just to meet you and shake your hand and tell you how your music has changed my life.” The first thing he said to me was “Didn’t you write me a letter?”

I almost fell over. Yes, of course I had written him letters but had no idea he had ever received them or read them. Evidently he did because he knew my name. Then I began my little spiel –what respect I have for him and his music, how nervous I was just standing there and talking to him, couldn’t believe I was face-to-face with him, etc., and handed him my papers telling him that I would be so grateful if he would just take a few minutes of his time to read them. He took them from me and said “Thank you.” No matter what I said after that he just continued to say “thank you.” Not much of a conversationalist but I’m lucky he even stood there to listen to me.

His wife then said to him “Bob do you have the keys?” And he went back into the house for a minute, left the papers in the house and when he came out, I approached him again. We talked for a few minutes, made some small talk about the sights in the Village and I was so nervous I didn’t know what to say so I asked him what else there was to see as long as I was in the neighborhood and he said, “You can always go and see the Empire State Building,” a typical Dylan answer. After that he said he had to leave, so he and his guitar went one way and I went the other.

I was literally shaking with excitement and flew to the first cab I could get back to the hotel and called everyone I knew. My husband Dave was having lunch with the President of E.F. Hutton and I got him there and he was very flustered and couldn’t talk, obviously.

I couldn’t believe I found him. I couldn’t believe I had actually talked to him. I did it. Mission accomplished. Now this has changed my life and I can go home.

* * *
Margie Marcus went on to live an interesting life of involvement in the Chicago theater scene and corresponding with interesting people. Dylan later sent her a photo of himself and during a 1974 Dylan concert in Chicago Margie was able to place a yellow rose on the stage for him, which he received.

* * *
Photo credit: Bob Dylan at the Warfield Theater, San Francisco; William Pagel Archives

Monday, September 15, 2014

Margie's 1972 Search To Find Bob Dylan: The Audacious Adventures of Day Two (Tony Scaduto and Philip Schechter)

This is Part 2 of Margie Marcus' three day adventure in New York in mid-January 1972. Part 1 appeared Friday here. It was through Anthony Scaduto that Margie hoped to find and meet Dylan. This past month it was through Margie's search to find and re-connect with Anthony Scaduto that she found me, or rather, found my blog about Scaduto's book Bob Dylan. As a result of sharing her story, I made an effort to help her by writing a blog entry about her quest. In the end she was successful in both her quests, in unexpected ways.

FRIDAY, January 14, 1972

At 10:00 my phone rang, woke me, and the voice on the other end was Tony Scaduto--the man I had written to and made an appointment with from Deerfield. I wanted to make sure that when I got to New York he could see me and not be too busy. He is the author of the new book Bob Dylan: An Intimate Biography and probably has done more research and knows Dylan better--not personally but consciously and thinking-wise--than anyone except perhaps old acquaintances like Joan Baez. I would say after reading Tony’s book he knows him better than anyone, period. He figured out his mind so well-that there were ten pages in the original manuscript to the book, that he left out because he and the editors felt it was just too heavy--it weighed the book down with a personal psychoanalysis of Dylan’s head—so that Tony didn’t really feel he should print it or had the prerogative to do. So he left it out and told me he would send it to me in the future.*

He called me at 10:00 and asked if he could come to my hotel earlier than we had planned because he had to take a 4:30 train to Long Island. I said “sure, anytime.” I really had nothing planned for the day--I was playing things by ear. I got up, ordered breakfast in and then got on the phone and called Philip Schechter. He is a Rabbi who was fired from his pulpit because of his radical ideas and appearance--and the things he was saying from his pulpit were not what the wealthy members of his Temple wanted to hear. They fired him and he was written up in the Rolling Stone at length last year, which is when I made my first correspondence contact with him. He interested me and what he was saying interested me. Not only that, I knew Schechter knew Dylan and I wanted to get in touch with anyone who knew Dylan. So, I called him. His answering service said he wasn’t in and I tried to persuade her to give me his home phone number. (I had called the JWB Lecture Bureau, which was the only number I had.) She said she wasn’t allowed to give me his number and I kept talking, and this was one example of the perfect timing that seemed to be with me during my whole NY trip. As I was trying to get the number out of her he picked up the phone and said he had just gotten home. I told him who I was and he remembered me from the letters I had sent him and my interest in Dylan. We began to talk.

He said his lecture schedule and all his other commitments to the congregations he was working with part time did not allow him to time to see me, but he would be glad to talk with on the phone awhile. A while turned out to be about 45 minutes of delightful conversation. I asked him a million questions, some about Dylan and some about himself and he was really nice to talk to. He first met Dylan on the street while Dylan was taking his son to get a haircut. It seems that when Schechter was fired he had a rather large interview by the Brooklyn Bridge, a newspaper I believe in the Village, and Dylan was at the interview because he was curious about Schechter. Dylan didn’t identify himself at the time, but recognized Schechter on the street and stopped to speak to him, most unusual for Dylan. The conversation was peculiar. They talked about their kids. There would be lags in the conversation, then another comment would be dropped. I’m sure I didn’t get it the way it happened because my notes are sketchy but Dylan does not want to talk about his music, Schechter said. They talked a little about Israel and Dylan’s recent connection with leaders of JDL and giving money to Israel etc., and Dylan denied it all saying it was a lot of baloney. Dylan made a few disparaging remarks about Abbie Hoffman and told Schechter to read a book called The 1st 3rd, published by City Lights and about Neil Cassidy.

Won’t go into all the details, but Schechter said didn’t know what Dylan’s theology is, thinks there’s a lot of theology in his ‘Father of Night’ and thinks Dylan means that people use God to justify their behavior. Schechter said he’s a changed man since he was fired. He seems to be able to deal with things on many different levels and is still really trying to find out ‘exactly what I am’ but knows that he is comfortable with the word God. He is not a completely humanistic Jew, he is only humanistic as far as bringing things back to the people rather than to institutions. When our conversation came to a close it was 11:30 a.m. Friday.

Tony Scaduto called my room about 2:45 and I came downstairs to meet a very friendly and smiling gentleman. We went into the bar at the Sherry Netherland and sat down to have a drink. We immediately started talking about Dylan and I don’t think we stopped for almost 2 hours.

Tony had to leave at 4:30 to catch a train to Long Island and in all that time I really learned nothing about him at all except that he worked for the NY Post for 20 years as a reporter (I learned later from his book and other articles that he was a court and police reporter, too) and then quit the Post and is freelancing. He was a fascinating and incredibly nice person. He was so friendly to me--we had no trouble communicating at all--we both seemed as though we had known each other before. When our time was up, he told me to call him the next day in Long Island and we would talk some more. He gave me a copy of his book which he autographed, reading: ”Dear Margie: You are warm, you are lovely, and I dug so much talking to you. Good luck in your search. Tony Scaduto."

I read every word of the book in a week and my regret was that it was finished. I wished it had gone on forever. He again promised to send me that part of the manuscript that contained a lot of things that go on in Dylan’s head which Dylan said was very accurate. He’s had a lot to do and Part 1 of his book came out in last week’s Rolling Stone. He’s had a bit of a hassle with them--wasn’t sure they were going to print it. He told me he should probably be in Chicago sometime in March and I said I hope so, I’d like to talk with him again.

* Margie did eventually receive those 10 pages and still has them.

In Part III we'll learn how a whim and serendipity made her dream come true. 

Popular Posts