The Story of Woodstock Fringe - Founded in 2002 by Wallace Norman
The idea to start a theatre in Woodstock came to me quite unexpectedly. The year was 1999. It was one of those gloriously beautiful and warm sunny autumn days when the air is fragrant with the smell of leaves. I had recently read something in the paper about the Byrdcliffe Arts Colony and thought it would be a perfect day to take a walk through the colony and become acquainted with this historic place. Byrdcliffe is a five minute ride from my Lake Hill home, then a weekend home. Scattered among its many acres are barn-like structures, houses, artists studios, pottery studios and something called the Valetta Inn. It seemed that I was the only one about that day. Then I came upon the Byrdcliffe Theater, an old, weathered, run down building. My heart started racing. No sign of life in the theatre. The marquee had an old torn poster for an event that had taken place six years earlier. Intrigued, I was desperately eager to see what was inside. I tried the doors. They were locked. Not tight fitting, the doors rattled and could be opened an inch or so. I saw that the doors were held closed by a hook and eye. A stiff piece of paper got me in.
I had entered the lobby. The theatre clearly had not been used for years. Debris was everywhere. From the right side of the lobby an open door revealed the theatre itself. As I entered chimpmunks and mice scattered. The floor of the stage was covered with leaves, acorns, all manner of debris. The stage was a platform, maybe four inches off the floor, facing four rows of wooden bleechers. I counted 60 seats. I stood on the stage clapped my hands and recited, "Speak the speech I pray you as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue". The walls of the theatre were pine shiplap, with gaps that let in the sun in rays that crisscrossed the theatre. PERFECT acoustics. You could whisper nearly silently and be heard. And this tattered old box made for the warmest sound I have experienced in any theater. I put my arms out and shouted to the empty theatre, "I want you. I want this." It was to me the most beautiful theatre.
The next year (2000), we dipped our foot into the theatre pond in Woodstock. I was a member of a playwriting lab and put together a weekend of readings of short and full-length plays written by members of our lab. That first weekend, Vivian
Matalon, an accomplished theatre director, called to say he would be attending one of our performances. I was impressed. His production of Mornings At Seven was one of the greatest productions I have ever seen. I was delighted when he agreed to be an adviser to our fledgling theatrical adventure.
People came! We were off!
The next two seasons were two-week long festivals of fully-produced plays, storytelling, readings and musical offerings produced at the Byrdcliffe Barn. There is a lot of stuff that goes into putting a theatre together. It took a few years to find our identity and purpose. In 2002 Woodstock Fringe emerged from the primodial soup to produce an annual Festival of Theare and Song. We would focus on new and experimental plays and music. We would offer work such as the Tiny Ninja Theatre productions of Shakespeare, one person shows dealing with social and political themes. We chose works that made our hearts faster.
We still ask ourselves, “What is a Theatre?” “Who are we?” “Why this play, at this time, on this stage, with this group of actors?” “What makes us a theatre?” The answers are found in the following words: Passion, Poetry, Mystery, Awe, Risk, Creative Process, and Hard Work. The next has particular resonance: Community.
I had entered the lobby. The theatre clearly had not been used for years. Debris was everywhere. From the right side of the lobby an open door revealed the theatre itself. As I entered chimpmunks and mice scattered. The floor of the stage was covered with leaves, acorns, all manner of debris. The stage was a platform, maybe four inches off the floor, facing four rows of wooden bleechers. I counted 60 seats. I stood on the stage clapped my hands and recited, "Speak the speech I pray you as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue". The walls of the theatre were pine shiplap, with gaps that let in the sun in rays that crisscrossed the theatre. PERFECT acoustics. You could whisper nearly silently and be heard. And this tattered old box made for the warmest sound I have experienced in any theater. I put my arms out and shouted to the empty theatre, "I want you. I want this." It was to me the most beautiful theatre.
The next year (2000), we dipped our foot into the theatre pond in Woodstock. I was a member of a playwriting lab and put together a weekend of readings of short and full-length plays written by members of our lab. That first weekend, Vivian
Matalon, an accomplished theatre director, called to say he would be attending one of our performances. I was impressed. His production of Mornings At Seven was one of the greatest productions I have ever seen. I was delighted when he agreed to be an adviser to our fledgling theatrical adventure.
People came! We were off!
The next two seasons were two-week long festivals of fully-produced plays, storytelling, readings and musical offerings produced at the Byrdcliffe Barn. There is a lot of stuff that goes into putting a theatre together. It took a few years to find our identity and purpose. In 2002 Woodstock Fringe emerged from the primodial soup to produce an annual Festival of Theare and Song. We would focus on new and experimental plays and music. We would offer work such as the Tiny Ninja Theatre productions of Shakespeare, one person shows dealing with social and political themes. We chose works that made our hearts faster.
We still ask ourselves, “What is a Theatre?” “Who are we?” “Why this play, at this time, on this stage, with this group of actors?” “What makes us a theatre?” The answers are found in the following words: Passion, Poetry, Mystery, Awe, Risk, Creative Process, and Hard Work. The next has particular resonance: Community.
Harold Clurman said of his efforts to fashion THE GROUP THEATRE:
A Theatre is created when people with common interests and tastes unite to devise ways and means whereby they may give their group feeling an adequate theatrical expression. Community.
If the theatre is an art, it must say something, it must create from the chaos which is the common experience of its members, an expression that will have, like that of the individual artist, an identity and significance with which people, sharing common experience, may sense their kinship.
The critically-acclaimed Festival grew to be 6 weeks long and offered as many as 40 performances each season during its summer residencies at Byrdcliffe. Fringe staff and company members lived, wrote, rehearsed and performed at Byrdcliffe. The Fringe was a mad explosion of creative energy, harkening back to the heyday of Off-Off Broadway. Some participants were theatre veterans with Tony Awards to their credit. Others made their theatrical debuts at the Fringe. During the Fringe’s decade at Byrdcliffe, more than 90 events were produced, the work of more than 200 playwrights and musicians were presented, and more than 600 professional actors, singers, playwrights, composers, musicians, stage directors, lighting, scenic and costume designers and stage technicians found a creative home at the Festival at Byrdcliffe.
Wallace Norman