The Playwrights’ Center: Confessions of a founder

It's 2011, and the Playwrights’ Center,—which has turned the Twin Cities into a, or arguably the, hotbed of exciting new American theater—is preparing to celebrate its 40th anniversary. Forty years: Could such longevity really be possible? Fellow playwright Barbara Field and I regularly face accusations of being Center founders. But are we? My recollection of the Center's early days are cloudy at best. I have lost several billion brain cells during those 40 years. Here is my first clear memory of the Playwrights’ Center: The Centennial Showboat. I had appeared in one show (playing Snug the Joiner in A Midsummer Night’s Dream) and was running lights for the other (Stephen Foster; Or, Weep No More My Lady, the worst play, bar none, ever written). I was sitting at the light board when a person of the feminine gender came up to me and asked, "Are you part of that Minneapolis Playwriting Laboratory?" This was, as best I can recall, the first I'd heard of the MPL (as the Playwrights’ Center was initially called). I gave her a blank look, then smiled and confidently answered, "Yes." Stephen Foster; Or, Weep No More My Lady was produced on the Showboat in 1973, whereas the Center celebrates its founding in 1971. Could MPL have existed for two years before I heard of it? Doubtful. The Twin Cities was (and still is) a small town and I, a budding playwright, would certainly have known about the Minneapolis Playwriting Laboratory. There was a now-legendary meeting between Barbara Field, Tom Dunn, Erik Brogger and Greg Whatshisname (Amdahl? something like that), in Barbara's office at the University of Minnesota, in which someone said, "Hey, kids! Let's start a group called the Minneapolis Playwriting Laboratory." Was I there? I must have been, otherwise, why am I considered a founder? But I have no memory of it. And when did this Great Meeting occur? 1971? 1973? Ah, the vagaries of memory. At this point, who cares. The Playwrights' Center celebrates 1971 as its year of years and who am I to say it nay. The real founder of the Playwrights’ Center, inarguably, was Tom Dunn. Everyone around at the time agrees. Tom understood about Boards of Directors (you need one), and by-laws, and mission statements and funders. Tom knew you might not require a permanent performing space, but you did need an office, with file folders, an IBM Selectric typewriter and a working telephone. Tom secured all that. We produced a series of shows (evenings of one acts; nobody was writing do-able full lengths) at the Pillsbury Arts Center (an ancient church since torn down to make room for Abbott Northwestern hospital parking), Walker Methodist Church (aka Walker Meth) and the Coffman Student Union at the U of M. We produced several evenings at the Walker Art Center. This was a big deal. Mike Steele, the theater critic at the Star Tribune, wrote a review. Then came the Jerome Foundation. I remember Tom telling me in a hushed and reverent voice, "The Jerome is looking at us very seriously. If we get this grant, we'll have it made." Someone from the foundation called and talked to me at length. (A person from a for-real foundation was taking me seriously!) We got the grant. I applied for, and won, the first Jerome playwriting fellowship: $500. A hundred dollar check every other month for ten months. Gee. Tom was right: The Jerome Fellowship (now up to $16,000 per annum) was the making of the Playwrights’ Center (when and how the Center acquired the new name I don't recall). The Jerome gave the Center institutional solidity and the non-profit organization became a genuine player in the Twin Cities cultural scene. I do miss the delirious 1970s. We didn't mark the decade as such then, but it was truly a unique time. In our seemingly permanent 21st century of retrenchment and ever-shrinking budgets, it’s hard to imagine the 70s, when money for the arts showered down like manna from the gods. (A composer I worked with once told me: "We need two thousand, so we'll apply for six and get four," which we did.) Foundations espoused a special interest in "emerging artists." Artist service organizations like the Center, the Loft Literary Center, the Composer's Forum and the now-defunct Film in the Cities flowered. Foundations and corporations recognized that the artistic vitality of the Twin Cities depended on keeping talented writers, composers, painters, filmmakers, et. al. happy—and here. This remains an ongoing effort. The Playwrights’ Center plays a leading role. Tom left the Center 1981, to become the director of New Dramatists in New York City. He decided that he wanted to go out on a celebratory note, so he declared that the Center was founded in '71 and threw a 10-year anniversary party. Tom commissioned an artist to create a provocative poster: the "ejaculating pens," which still graces the Center walls, albeit off in an obscure basement corner. Tom's departure inaugurated the Center's “ Dark Period”—a topic for another essay. The initial heady success of the Playwrights’ Center was due partly to the wonderful 1970s, but mostly to Tom Dunn's energy and (dare I use the word?) vision. Or maybe I'm misremembering the whole thing.