Who can save Freedom Theatre?

STEVE COHEN

As Freedom Theatre’s Walter Dallas tells it, when he directed the pre-Broadway production of August Wilson’s Jitney "There was a point in the play where a costume change was taking more time than we anticipated. The men working at the jitney station learned of the death of their boss. The very next scene had them returning from the funeral in suits, dress shoes and ties. August didn't want to write a scene to cover. He asked if I could think of anything."

Dallas remembered the time when, as a child, a saw his neighbor from across the street, Mrs. Jones, coming toward his house in a black dress with a black veil covering her face. "But she never came into the house. Then the phone rang. It was our neighbor calling to let us know that Mrs. Jones had passed away the night before." So Dallas created a scene in which a woman in all black and a veil comes to the window of the closed jitney station and looks in for a moment. "It was an eerie moment that really worked well for us," Dallas recalls. "August loved it and kept it in the show."

Such moments of inspiration have richly earned Philadelphia’s Freedom Theatre its reputation as one of the nation’s leading African-American theater companies.. When you think about it, few narratives are more dramatic than the story of black America, and few theater troupes have mined that story’s possibilities more effectively than Freedom Theatre, most conspicuously in its musical productions > its musical productions written by and directed by Dallas, New Freedom's Black Nativity and Lazarus, Unstoned. and also in works by a long line of black legends like Langston Hughes, James Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry and LeRoi Jones.

But offstage is another matter: Freedom has long epitomized the highly creative arts organization that can’t seem to get its business act together. A financial crisis— stemming from a misguided attempt in the 1990s to build a complex in North Philadelphia, beginning with the purchase and renovation of the Edwin Forrest mansion at Broad and Master—.shuttered the company’s productions from May, 2004, until now (although its teaching program continued).

When the lights go up at Freedom on February 4th after 21 months of darkness, everyone will be happy, at least for the moment. The company has reduced its debt and reported an operating surplus of $100,000 (before debt service) for the year just ended, but that was with no productions on its stage. It is starting small, with a one-man play, Emergence-see!, written and performed by Daniel Beaty, to be followed by a three-character production in March, No Good Nigga Bluez. A revival of New Freedom’s Black Nativity is planned for next Christmas season.

But how many people will be on hand to applaud? Even before Freedom’s crisis in 2004, empty seats were visible at critically-praised productions like Lazarus, Unstoned. Freedom’s own African-American community didn’t demonstrate sufficient support. And the reluctance of white theatergoers to venture into North Philly— especially with so many competing attractions downtown— has compounded Freedom’s problems. Financial support has also been meager, even from those closest to it: Some board members failed to meet monetary responsibilities and stopped coming to meetings when things got rough. A board of 20 dwindled to five, but its president, Derek Hargreaves, insists that these few are dedicated and generous.

"Blacks give a lot to black churches," Dallas observes. "With heightened awareness, they’ll give to theater. We have to get the word out." But Freedom has been a conspicuous presence in North Philadelphia since 1966. What more will it take to get the word out?

These financial problems continue, in part, because Freedom’s high-tech but tiny theater can’t sell enough seats to cover the cost of large productions, even when the house is full. Ticket sales rarely cover the cost of any theater company, much less the large productions for which Freedom is best known, so financial underwriting is essential. "Main Line corporations historically were never interested in our community," says Hargreaves, "and Freedom does not have the staff resources nor the entrée to cultivate them."

Because of a lack of funds, the company hasn’t been able to hire a professional fund-raiser or grant-writer, so corporate donations are almost nil. Foundations haven’t contributed anything because Pew and others insist that deficits not exceed 10% of the annual budget. Nor have governments, save for small grants from the Pennsylvania Council for the Arts.

When Tom Ridge was governor, he visited and seemed to be impressed. According to Dallas, he said that the state would contribute $800,000. Two months later, at a party, Ridge upped the ante to $1 million. But nothing came, and, according to Dallas, "The governor did not return our phone calls."

The state and the city coughed up tens of millions to build the Kimmel Center. Freedom Theatre serves more than blacks alone, and it differs from Philly’s other theaters and schools, so it deserves extraordinary support.

So the question persists: Why have audiences and funders— people with a presumed interest in good theater, not to mention boosting minorities— ignored Freedom Theatre? And what can be done about it?

As a frequent theatergoer whose skin happens to be white, I can testify that no theater company greets guests more warmly than Freedom. There’s a graciousness in its lobby that surpasses every other Philadelphia venue. Its audience members are dressier than elsewhere. The Freedom milieu is a throwback to the days when gowns and black ties were normal at cultural events. It’s also reminiscent of the Harlem Renaissance of the 1930s, when New York’s Amsterdam Avenue was a boulevard of fashion.

Parking is safe. I usually find free spots right on Broad Street, within a block of the well-lit mansion at the corner of Master Street. Others prefer to use the theater’s secure and free parking lot immediately next to the theater door. Nevertheless, some white folks remain fearful. Ingrained notions are hard to kill.

What’s the solution? Perhaps the company should consider using a large downtown theater for some of its more-expensive productions. This would attract mainstream audiences and would allow more tickets to be sold than is possible at the company’s small home, which seats just 299 .Perhaps a center City house like the Forrest, which is usually unoccupied, could offer its space rent-free or for minimal cost, in exchange for the prestige of association with the acclaimed Freedom Theatre.. (It would be poetic to have a partnership of the theater named for the Philadelphia actor Edwin Forrest with the company that owns and occupies Forrest’s mansion.) Likewise for the Merriam, which would reunite Freedom’s guiding force, Walter Dallas, with the University of the Arts (owner of the Merriam), where Dallas ran the theater program from 1983 to 1993.

When it returns to North Philadelphia for its "home games," Freedom could operate shuttle buses from downtown to its landmark on Avenue of the Arts-North. Or jitney service. Call it the August Wilson Jitney in memory of the late playwright, Dallas’s longtime friend and collaborator.

Freedom might borrow a page from Crossroads Theatre, a black company in New Jersey, which revived itself with tricks that haven’t yet been tried in Philly. Crossroads booked the tap dancer Savion Glover, who contributed his services for fund-raising shows. Why couldn’t Freedom entice a nationally-known Philadelphia performer like Will Smith or Patti LaBelle or Bill Cosby? Crossroads also got a grant from the Kennedy Center in a program to aid minority arts groups to regain financial stability. And Crossroads convinced the bank to which it owed the most money to accept future services as payment-in-kind, forgiving all moneys owed. Why couldn’t PNC Bank, as part of its extensive arts support, do likewise?

Dallas says he feels stifled by the which-comes-first dilemma: Without money to hire a fund-raiser, how can the company attract money? Is it possible that a foundation or corporation that doesn’t want to make a cash contribution might, instead, supply the services of a talented fund-raiser? Freedom has used Executives on Loan in the past, and Dallas is in touch with Michael Kaiser, head of the Kennedy Center. But what Freedom needs is a seasoned, highly experienced pro in the area of strategic planning and major gift development— plus a separate person with access to funders in the black community.

"We know we are creative, spiritually strong, and a beacon in a world desperately in need of light," says Dallas. How much of that creativity can extend into the area of financing?