What to Do When You Have No Power?

Posted by Bruce Miller
About three or four times a year we lose power at Hanover Tavern on a show night, causing the cancellation of a performance. Last night was the first time we’ve ever had to pull the plug on an Opening Night. Bus Stop by William Inge is now set for a delayed debut this evening at eight.

Power at Hanover Courthouse is a sometimes thing. Years ago, Barksdale co-founder Muriel McAuley, an avid student of ancient cultures, explained it this way.

Thor (not the Marvel Comics superhero but the ancient Germanic god of thunder, lightning and electricity) flew in his chariot over Hanover on the first of August, 1953. As all you scholars of ancient Germanic mythology remember, Thor’s chariot is powered by two billy goats named Toothnasher and Toothgrinder. As all you scholars of Richmond theatre history remember, August 1, 1953, was the day the six NYC actors who co-founded Barksdale Theatre moved into the Tavern.

The goats looked down as they flew over these hallowed grounds and noticed two sows being dumped unceremoniously into the back yard of the historic property. The two porcine princesses were named Sheba (after the titular pet in William Inge’s first Broadway hit, Come Back Little Sheba) and Tallulah (after the celebrated star who, in Souvenir, laughed so hard during Florence Foster Jenkins’ legendary recital at Carnegie Hall that she had to be carried out of the theatre by friends). Or was that Greta Garbo? Hmmm.

Anyway, the ever optimistic co-founders of Barksdale had acquired two piglets weeks before actually purchasing the Tavern, sure that their dream would soon be a reality. They planned for the pigs to be a thrifty way to “take care of the garbage and provide meat.” However, between the dates of piglet purchase and hog transport, the two sows had grown to 70 lbs each.

On August 1, the pigs were chauffeured to the Tavern by co-founders Muriel McAuley and Pat Sharp. (Pat would play Cherie in the Tavern's 1958 production of Bus Stop.) Quoting from Muriel’s book, Going On … Barksdale Theatre, The First 31 Years: “Until you’ve driven 30 miles with two trussed up, screaming, crapping pigs in the back of an overheated station wagon, you’ve missed one of life’s unique moments.”

Toothnasher and Toothgrinder apparently looked down, saw, heard and smelled the roly-poly garbage disposals, and collapsed in laughter. They knew full well that the co-founders should have foregone the purchase of pigs for the far more sensible choice of goats. This moment of hilarity caused the chariot to jolt, and in retribution, Thor sent a bolt of lighting thundering down onto an unsuspecting Hanover.

Along with the lighting came a curse, which has been buzzing and sizzling along the power grid ever since.

Our policy is this. If the electricity has been out for at least two hours, and it continues to be out three hours prior to showtime, we will cancel the show. It’s the only way we have a prayer of reaching the majority of ticket holders, all of whom we try to call within 30 minutes of the decision to cancel.

Last night’s call turned out to be a good one. As of this morning at 8 a.m., power had returned to the community of Hanover Courthouse, but there was still no power in the Tavern. As of this writing, I'm pleased to report that everything is finally back up and running.

Cancellation policies have not always been so practical. I remember performing in Old Wives’ Tale at the Tavern, three decades ago almost to the day. It was a fun vampire mystery comedy written by former Richmonder Ed Sala and directed and designed by Pete. I co-starred with the late Carol Chittum, the late Will Keys, the late Anne Goodwyn, and the very much still with us Glenn Crone.

One night the power went out in the Tavern during dinner. Rather than cancel the show, Pete, Nancy and Muriel asked every table to carry their hurricane-globed candle with them into the theatre. The candles were placed around the perimeter of the stage, and we performed the entire show in candlelight. Nancy sat to the side and hummed the incidental music and Pete made all the sound effects (wind, thunder crashes etc) by mouth.

It was one of the most fun and exciting performances I’ve ever been privileged to be a part of. But in these more practical days of fire marshals and liability litigation, it will never happen again.

Now that the lights are back on, I look forward to seeing you at the theatre!

--Bruce Miller

Tevye Takes His Final Bow

Posted by Bruce Miller
I just returned from Lou Rubin’s funeral and graveside service. Phil and I joined Tom Width, Jackie Jones and Glenn Crone in representing the theatre community. If others were there, I apologize for missing you.

Phil and I arrived about 15 minutes before the service, but it was obvious that the crowd that kept pouring in was not going to fit inside the cemetery facility. So the two of us and Tom Width and about 30 others gladly took our places outside and listened to the service over speakers. I'm sure Lou loved the fact that his service was SRO.

One of Lou’s favorite roles at the Mill was Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. He played it at least twice to great acclaim. His family wanted to include something from Fiddler in the service, but secular music is prohibited in a Jewish funeral. So after consultation with the powers-that-be, it was decided that Sunrise Sunset would be performed as a sort of overture, before the service actually began. It was very moving.

Later in the service, a granddaughter said that Lou had mentioned that he wanted helium balloons at his funeral, to cheer things up. His daughter Claudia Biegler told him that she was concerned that a balloon launch would not be environmentally friendly, and maybe not even legal.

Lou, we were told, then suggested bubbles, and his family agreed. So small containers of soapy liquid with bubble wands were handed out to the overflowing crowd. During the graveside service, 50 or more family members and friends began blowing bubbles until the entire area around the graveside was shimmering with fragile, shining bubbles wending their gentle way toward a beautiful blue sky. It was impossible not to smile. It was a PERFECT Lou moment.

Now might be a good time to reprint an article that appeared in the Petersburg Progress-Index, and was picked up nationally by the Associated Press, announcing the Mill’s opening in Dec 1965. It’s a fitting tribute to Lou and Buddy, who died last March.

Under the headline “Old Grist Mill Becomes Weekend Dinner Theater,” the following article appeared on December 9, written by Pat Matthews. I've left all the grammar and punctuation intact.

"Three enterprising young couples, convinced Southside Virginians share their love of the theater, have converted a 302-year-old grist mill into a weekend dinner theater.

The partners in the Swift Creek Mill Playhouse are Wamer Callahan, a high school teacher and the only member with professional theatrical experience; Dr. Louis Rubin, Petersburg optometrist who has appeared in numerous amateur productions; and Wesley Richardson, operator of a drive-in restaurant in Petersburg.

They are being assisted by their wives, each with her own special skill to contribute.

Sally Richardson is not only acting in the opening production of “Carnival”, but she has also been the innovator of many of the decorating schemes for the historic old mill.

Betty Callahan has worked with her husband on many amateur productions in the past and specializes in coordinating the rehearsal schedule.

Fran Rubin is assisting her husband in public relations and is also handling the important jobs of reservations and make-up.

The couples have already encountered enough obstacles to discourage most new business partners. Contractors, looking over the building believed to be the oldest grist mill in this country, found it sound but needing a great deal of renovation.

The 2 1/2 –foot thick walls of the foundation and first floor were solid, but the floors were lopsided. To even the floors, the huge structure had to be jacked-up five inches.

Then the opening had to be delayed two months because the mill was built partly on granite, and this had to be removed before work could progress on a kitchen addition.

The partners say that the mill plays will be of like caliber with the operation similar to other theaters in the state. There will be buffet style dinner for guests before the play on two dining levels.

The theater will seat 250. The stage is slightly elevated in the manner of a Greek amphitheater and there is no curtain."

More commentary to follow.

--Bruce Miller

Stories of the Past

Posted by Robert Albertia

The year was 1963 and I was thrilled to be a member of the cast of Twelve Angry Men directed by David (Pete) Kilgore. Those were magic times at Hanover Tavern. I had not yet reached my 30th year and to work at this marvelous theatre was, for me, a great milestone. The cast was filled with Barksdale favorites: Jay Lundy, Glenn Crone, Mike Pettinger, and Pete himself.

The association with Muriel McAuley and Nancy Kilgore along with Pete was one that has remained a joyous and constant reminder of the creative individuals I have had the good fortune of working with in almost forty-five years in the theatre. I wouldn't change that for anything.

It would seem that I have lost count of the many productions I have worked on, however, there are standouts among that list: playing opposite Mallory Freeman and Edie Williams as my parents in the brilliant production of Da; the hilarious My Fat Friend with Helen Ball Williams, a life-long friend; numerous productions with Helen Levinson (too many to mention)--in fact many people thought we were married!

In most of those productions, I wore my own clothes since the theatre had almost no costume budget. I never minded because of the joy of doing a part in any Barksdale production was an opportunity not to be missed.

Even today I feel the same way and continue to accept delightful roles that continue to challenge me as an actor and feed my soul.

Barksdale Theatre is one of my great loves. Those marvelous actors I have worked opposite remain with me always.