John Butterfield

Our Space and the importance of Small Theatre

When people ask me about our space it’s always interesting to see their reaction. We don’t have a conventional space. Cue Live is the product of Carole Davis who took a bar/pool hall and turned it into a performance/cabaret space.

Now, if you were in San Francisco, or even Berkeley, this wouldn’t be such a reach. Space is a premium in these places, and in fact space in general for performers is alway in demand and not easily found, especially affordable space. But in the suburbs ‘found space’ is a foreign term. People are looking for a conventional space.

Cue is what we refer to as a store front theatre. Our ceiling is low, we have a light grid of a sort, we do have a great sound system (Carole using it as a recording studio off and on), a dressing room “area”, and no backstage to speak of. When the audience goes to the bathroom they pass the cast, not so much in the summer but always in the winter.

When I first came to Cue I thought, ‘okay, we can start here and move on to a “real” theatre’, whatever that means. If I hadn’t just come from my studies in New Zealand I don’t think I would have taken the space. I had, until that time, never heard of the term ‘Traverse’; a form of staging where the audience is on either side of the work. If you’ve been to the lovely Aurora in Berkeley it’s very much like that. I was familiar with the terms semi-round, in the round, thrust, and all the rest. At school we used classrooms and basements, pretty much anywhere we could. The class after me used a laundromat for an installation piece.

For Butterfield 8’s first production we started with a conventional work, Blythe Spirit by Noel Coward, moving into Romeo and Julian, and then Midsummer Night’s Dream. By the time I hit Midsummer I was in a love /hate relationship with the space. Looking back, I realize I would not have made the work I have made if I had started the company in a conventional space.

Why I love working in this space

The audience is so close that the actor can touch them with little to no effort. Not that they make a habit of this, but what it does, especially for classical work, is put the audience in the middle of the work. They can’t check out and let it roll over them. They are, in fact, one of the players. They are in the room with Jane and Lizzy from Pride and Prejudice, they are at the ball for Lady Windemere. When I watch them watching the work they are pulled in and engaged. The actors also must keep in the work; no phoning it in, no checking out. We can see all of you working and when you wander, we notice.

It is an intimate space in every sense of the word. It has made me a stronger artist by pushing me to build work in a different way.
This is the beauty of small theatre. We usually don’t have large budgets, although some do. Our spaces have forced us to look at the work and how we build the work in a new way. We are where invention happens. It is from the small experimental theatre that the big theatres get their new ideas. Sometimes they are able to realize an idea sparked by a smaller venue to its full potential. Sometimes it’s transferring the work into a larger medium for more people to see. We feed each other and both would diminish without the input of the other. The challenge for the smaller theatre is bringing people into the space to start with, helping the audience see that theatre can happen anywhere, something that isn’t always expressed in the suburbs. The price of the ticket is usually much lower as well. This is also something that smaller companies see as part of their mission statement. Theatre should be affordable to everyone. The larger the venue the larger the ticket price. It’s just the way of it. You have rent, insurance, props, costumes, royalties if they apply, actors and designers to pay. It all ads up. But in the end, why are we doing this? I don’t want to build work that only a few can afford to see, I want to build work that is accessible to all. Thats why we have such a low ticket price. We want to promote live theatre that people are able to see.

We are venturing into the stylized world of masks. We just got them delivered last week and they are stunning. Now that the essential glamour has worn off a little we are striving to make them come alive. As we push forward with the work, the world we’re trying to create is slowly coming into focus. With this production we, as a company, are taking steps in the direction I have wanted us to go for about two years. It’s hard, and the idea of what we are about to start can be intimidating. Mask work  for Salome and puppets for Christmas Carol; creating more with the fantastical, to make a world the audience can get lost in.

Why puppets and masks? Many people consider these to be old tools that date the work, or put it in a box like Shakespeare, or the Greeks.  So much of what is being produced today on the stage is trying to compete with film. Stage is not film. We never will be. We can be spectacle, like opera, Cirque, or the unfortunate Spiderman the musical. We can be, and should be, more intimate. We illustrate less and ask you to use your imagination more, that is why I love live theatre.

Who I look to for inspiration? Robert Lepage, Complicite, DV8 Physical Theatre,and Handspring Puppet Theatre who have just opened Midsummer Nights Dream at the Barbican, blending puppets and actors in what looks to be a breathtaking production. All of these companies are building new work using what many call old tools: puppets, masks, some fantastical, some primitive.

Why does this work? When we did Pride and Prejudice we used parasols for carriage wheels and trees. I approached the staging more like a ballroom and the work more like dance. My little brother said we created a “game” in a sense that the audience could take part in some way.

As the artistic director, the challenge of putting work up in a space that used to be a pool hall that’s been transformed into a Cabaret space has forced me to break with traditional staging. I’m so grateful for this. Had I been lucky enough to land in a standard theatre with a proscenium I don’t think I would have grown, or built the work I have.

So, now comes the time where we push ourselves beyond our comfort zone. I know that we will fall down a bit, but that is part of the process. We don’t do the standards, we don’t do Rabbit Hole, ART, or All My sons. I have nothing against these works, they have their place. But there are so many companies doing this work, very few willing to take a risk and venture out, or take these works and re-imagine them. Now, as a producer as well, I know that this carries a big price tag, and that you have to look at the whole season. What can you sustain? For us, our overhead is fairly low. This gives us a certain freedom that other companies don’t always get.

So what do you do with this freedom? You take risks. Time is fleeting and I don’t want to say, ‘Well we did what was expected.’ I want to do work that pushes me and my company to be stronger artists. I want our audience to be surprised and enchanted, to be taken on a journey. That is our job as theatre makers.

“Finding The Cue

Edwin Peabody here. You all may know me as an actor/director and company member for Butterfield 8. I’m here to give some insight into what it means for me to be a member of this company.

It’s a true gift to find a company to continue work for as an actor. Actors live the vagabond’s life, constantly switching from one company to the next in the hopes of finding work. In 20+ years and 90+ shows, I can say I finally found the people and the place I feel most comfortable  – with Butterfield 8.

Five years ago I was invited to be a part of “Merchant of Venice” and I’ve pretty much been a staple since. And as I have watched my role grow within this company, and seen this company grow as well, I wanted to share with you all what it means for me to be a part of this:

*It means that I have a responsibility to the future. To the future shows, future members, future patrons and supporters.

*It means that I must take “the long view” of this company, and be patient with the people and faithful to our mission. I sometimes make mistakes, but I always learn from them.

*It means that I must be honest with myself about why I do this. I gave my life to the theatre long ago, so I’m not a hobbyist or a part-timer. For me, it’s all or nothing. Like it or not, this is my life.

*It means this company is my home and I must ensure that my part, however it changes from what it is now, gets accomplished to the best of my abilities. I am more than just an actor with this company, but I’m also in it for the long run. This company means the world to me.

As a performer, from moment one of rehearsal on, I always give 100% of myself. I go at it full bore, as they say. So I approach everything else I’ve been asked, or volunteered, to do for this company with the same 100%. I might make mistakes, since I’m only human, but I will give everything I have to this.

To be honest, it’s frightening that after so many years of vagabonding, I found this place to call my home. I was so used to the idea that I was searching for it endlessly, and would likely never find it.

I now look forward to all the little triumphs and tribulations, all the obstacles we will continue to overcome, and all the satisfaction of the truly hard work we do that pays off. I have faith in the whole shebang. And I’ll always be honored and grateful for finding the Cue.”

When you work for a well oiled machine like Cal Shakes or Berkeley Rep, they have
heaps of cash and a structure that is in place to keep everything running. When it’s your
own show, a small budget, and a structure that holds together but not a lot of resources,
things get interesting.

In our latest production, we have had some casting… “issues,” let’s call them. It has
made it clear to me that too few actors realize what really goes into building the work.
It’s not that they don’t understand it, they never really take it into consideration. Or
worse, they think they don’t have a responsibility to the company, especially if it is small.
Well that isn’t exactly true; the theatre world is small, I get calls or e-mails often asking
me what so and so was like to work with, or have I ever had dealings with this actor.

It’s frustrating of course when you are putting work together and things fall apart or don’t
get done. Small companies don’t always have a safety net, so as the producer/director
it’s up to you to fix it.

We are in transition, if you can call it that. We have company members really stepping
up to the plate and taking things on.

So sometimes it’s hard to let go.

When you have had people tell you again and again that they will do something and it
never happens, you get a little gun shy. So my issue is letting people take things on.

Yes – I’m working on it.

Growing pains can be difficult but necessary to build a better structure. We all fall into
patterns of work; “we’ve always done it this way” or “I’ll just take care of it.” All of this I
need to break from and allow other people to do it. And be okay if they fall down a little
when they do. Cutting each other slack doesn’t always happen in this field, but it should;
it can make us all a little better.

Provided we get the fact that we fell down in the first place, and that we learn from it.

Hi this is Liz Martin, the costume designer for Butterfield 8 . John asked me to write about the process of creating the costumes for Othello.

So, in this work, none of us are playing the gender we are. For some of us it’s not the first time. When we started the company we stumbled through this idea of playing the opposite gender, wanting to to explore this work and making choices; some good, some not so good.

So here we are today with a cast trying to become the other sex.We just finished a workshop with Rami Margron an amazing actor and dancer. She has had experience portraying boys and men off and on, and has worked with Woman’s Will. We had a session called “Finding Your Inner Man or Dude”. From start to finish Rami was amazing. What was different for her was we had the men in the company attend as well. It was a great eye opener about how my sex behaves physically and I know that all the men in the company got as much out of the session as the women did. The insight into posture, and gesture, as well as voice and greeting, was extremely informative. For me, it informed me how to approach certain characters and how to observe as a director. Im really thankful that we were able to bring her in.

Playing a woman and what it means to me.

The first time I dabbled in this work was in school at the Drama Studio of London at Berkeley. We did the first act of Cloud Nine by Carol Churchill. The second time was with Company Chaddick in which we did a sight specific work in the ball room of the old dance space on Oak street in S.F., now the Institute for Music. Act One had us all in mens’ formals, Act Two had us all in female formals, and the last act was mix and match. We got to be big physically, without make up, but really on the verge of drag; high comedy at points.

With my own company I’ve played Viola in our all male Twelfth Night. Let me start by saying she is my hero. I love her spirit, and it helped that I spent all of the play dressed as a boy, so not really a stretch. I had to be in love with Orsino, also not a big leap, being queer falling for a man is not foreign to me.

But now I’m playing Emilia in my production of Othello. So it’s incredibly important that the women and men don’t play stereotypes of the gender they’re portraying. They need to come across as real people.

What is it like to be a woman surrounded by men in a military setting? What is it like to be a woman suspected of being unfaithful with no allies?

How do we look?

Working with my costume designer, Liz Martin we have been going back and forth, I don’t want anything that even hints at drag. We have struggled a little with Desdemona, but we found Emilia right away.

It’s funny the things I think of that I don’t think of when playing a man. I want her to look better than I do. I’m fiercely protective of the character. I want to present her in the best light. I find my reaction fascinating. Is it my male side coming to her defense? Is it my queer side wanting her to look her best? I haven’t found the answer yet but will let you know when I do.

As I approach her as a physical being, what is her stance, her gesture, her voice? As an attendant to Desdemona what do you do? You look at the courts of Elizabeth the First, or any royal assembly. You wait until you are needed, you are there to serve. How does this inform your physical stance on stage, your posture, how direct is she?

Im exploring and if you want to see the result come and see us. We open at the end of the month; Thursday, Feb. 28th is our preview, and Fri. March 1st is our gala opening. The website for dates and times is www.b8company.com

I wanted to start this blog by putting my thoughts out on the work we are building and the processes we are going through as a small independent theatre company. There are many issues facing us as we proceed, from simply building each production, to how we are perceived in the public, and the theatre community at large. As many of you know who run a company, or are part of one,  it’s a constant up hill battle and I do not want the blog to be a whinge fest, but from time to time I’m sure I will rant a bit about the state of theatre and the so-called theatre community.

Moving on

We are currently in rehearsal for Othello. We have switched the genders so all male characters are played by women and all female characters are played  by men. Gender has always been a topic that fascinates me. I’ve seen the work of Propeller Theatre and the Chekov company and in our own way we have taken a page from their book.  Addressing these issues is in our mission statement so it’s no surprise that I chose to go this route with this production. Last season we did an all male and an all female Twelfth Night in rep and what became clear to me was how much freedom it allowed both casts. The actors made choices, bold ones,  in directions I had never seen them make before. Crossing the genders gave them freedom that they somehow missed when cast to standard gender roles. It’s not they are somehow lacking, but by turning things on their head the actor makes choices not thought of before.

Last night we had a small workshop on physicality.We started with a simple exercise, how to sit as a man and how to sit as a woman? As men sit they spread out, take room, room that they seem to think is their right to take, and when a woman sits, in general, it is to make room for others, not to take up space, to make oneself smaller. Now this may be a gross generalization, but for us we have to get to physical markers for the actors, physical choices they can hold on to.

If you have been in our space you know just how close the audience is to the performer, kissing-close is not an exaggeration. So we are not asking the audience to overlook the fact that  we’re not the gender we are playing, but to see how the switch informs the work. As long as we commit to this the audience will follow, for the most part they want to be taken on a journey.