“Off record tip: Wondering if you’ve noticed that there’s someone missing from the Women’s Project masthead on their website.”

That’s the direct messaged tweet I received yesterday morning. Another one with essentially the same content, came in the early afternoon, from a separate individual. Of course, by that time, I’d already perused the Women’s Project Theater masthead.

It was readily apparent what I was being led to discover. The name that was missing was that of Julie Crosby, who had been named the company’s managing director in November 2005 and became the company’s producing artistic director in 2007. Her name was gone from the staff list, as was her biography.

The funny thing is, I couldn’t find a single press announcement of her departure, on their site or via Google news search. That fact, and the reticence of my correspondents to even directly come out and tell me why they were writing seemed odd. I was intrigued, but I’m in the midst of a big grant application in my day job, so I had to table my curiosity until early evening.

Since that time, I have sent two e-mails to Bruce Cohen, publicist for the Women’s Project, inquiring about this leadership transition. As I publish this, more than 14 hours since my first inquiry to him, I’ve had to no response.  I wrote early this morning to Arlene Scanlan, co-chair of the Women’s Project board of directors, at her work e-mail as published on her business website. No reply.

However, after two Facebook messages to Crosby, I received the following statement from her: “I poured my heart, soul, and brainpower into Women’s Project Theater for nearly a decade. It was my privilege and dream to lead the theater and work with so many extraordinarily talented women theater artists, and I’m incredibly proud of how much we accomplished. I would never resign.”

Julie Crosby

So there’s no doubt that Crosby is no longer at the Women’s Project Theater. She has not said that she was fired, but suggests that she did not depart voluntarily.

Jessica R. Jenen, who I know from her tenure at Classic Stage, is now listed as “interim executive producer.” As recently as April, Jenen was identified by the Women’s Project as “executive consultant.”

Several people I spoke with who declined to be named suggested that some, if not all, of the Women’s Project Theater advisory board have resigned. I am unable to confirm this officially. One advisory board member who was willing to speak on the record, agent Beth Blickers, would only say to me, “Julie Crosby has my absolute and utter support and it seems short sighted to me that she is not still the head of that organization.”

Another advisory board member, who counts me among her more than 3,000 Facebook friends, yesterday posted to her wall, “Ironic and depressing that in this crucial time for women artists in the theater that cultural organizations of, for and by women act in destructive ways to that intent…really really bad timing.” But maybe it’s just a coincidence that it appeared when it did; I do not name her because of the grey area of quoting from Facebook posts that may not be fully public.

In the absence of any further detail or comments from the company, all I can do is speculate, based on having followed institutional transitions at arts organizations for many years. I infer from Crosby’s careful statement that the parting was not amicable. The lack of any company announcement, or prepared statement, intimates that the separation was abrupt, and that perhaps there are legal issues to be worked out. If indeed some or all of the advisory board, which is largely filled with artists and arts professionals, has resigned, it suggests the creative community of the company is at odds with the board of directors over what has transpired.

Women’s Project Theater productions

Whatever precisely has transpired, it strikes me as a particularly unfortunate time for one of the country’s premier theatre groups dedicated to plays by women, led by women, employing women artists and administrators in a range of positions, to be undergoing turmoil, however hushed it may be. Conversations about gender parity in the arts, and theatre specifically, continue to grow more eloquent and effective. The topic has been spotlighted most recently by the establishment of The Kilroys and their list of 46 recommended plays by women, for theatres that feel (inexplicably) that they haven’t been able to surface female-written plays to include in their seasons. Having been a leader in efforts on behalf of women in theatre since its establishment 36 years ago, the Women’s Project deserves to be at the forefront of these redoubled and essential efforts to eradicate the patriarchal structure of American theatre, not taking a bunker mentality to even their own work and operations. Other companies have to be taught to include women, even in 2014, while the Women’s Project has taken that as their mission from the very start.

If I am indeed letting a proverbial cat out of a bag with this post, then it’s fair to assume that more information will be forthcoming. I will update this post as warranted, in the genuine hope that both Crosby and the organization will emerge from whatever exactly is going on in a way that sustains their roles as strong advocates for women playwrights and all women in theatre.

I will conclude with one parting tip about transitions: if you don’t want people to know something is going on behind the scenes at your organization, don’t change your website until you’re ready to talk.

Note: while the comments section is open, I urge anyone wishing to post that I do my best to maintain constructive conversation on my site, so attacks will be removed, as will anonymously sourced criticisms of any party. If you want to shed light, do so in full light, not under cover of a pseudonym. Thanks.

Addendum, 11:30 am, June 26: I just received the following e-mail from Arlene Scanlan, co-chair of the Women’s Project board of directors:

We are discussing a release that will come via the WP.  Bruce Cohen is not our current press agent.

It should be noted that, as I write, the Women’s Project’s website still lists Bruce Cohen as the press contact. While the site is being updated for an evolving situation, this change in the company’s media representation has not yet been amended to reflect its current status. My efforts to contact the company since yesterday evening were based on what their site states.

Addendum, 12:45 pm, June 26: The media page on the Women’s Project website now reflects that Marc Thibodeau at The Publicity Office is representing the company. I am reaching out to him for the statement that Scanlan indicated would be forthcoming.

Addendum, 5:15 pm, June 26: The Women’s Project, through Marc Thibodeau, provided me with a statement from its Board of Directors, concurrent with the issuance of a general press release by the company. The material in the statement which is not duplicated in the release reads:

Julie Crosby informed the Board via email on June 4 that she would be leaving her position as Producing Artistic Director and asked that we contact her attorney to discuss the terms of her departure. Since that time we have refrained from making a public statement in order to finalize those terms.

The general press release begins as follows:

WOMEN’S PROJECT THEATER LAUNCHES SEARCH FOR NEW ARTISTIC DIRECTOR

Women’s Project Theater has begun a national search for a new Artistic Director to lead the company for the coming 2014-15 season and beyond.  The new Artistic Director will succeed Julie Crosby, who recently departed the company as Producing Artistic Director, a position she held since 2006.  During her tenure, Ms. Crosby led and nurtured the institution immeasurably, producing more than 25 plays by women playwrights and directors, and championing the careers of its alumnae lab artists.

Women’s Project Theater’s Board of Directors remain steadfastly committed to the mission of the theatre founded by Julia Miles in 1978. For the last 36 years, WP has championed work by women theater artists and shall continue to do so for many years in the future.

In the interim, Jessica R. Jenen, the Tony-nominated producer and former Executive Director of Classic Stage Company, will move into the role of Interim Executive Producer during this transition period. Ms. Jenen was to have departed WP as Executive Consultant at the end of June, but will remain with the theater through the transition period to a new Artistic Director

The remainder of the release cites the many achievements of the company over the years.

The statement of course does not agree with Crosby’s assertion that she would “never resign,” so what has taken place remains unclear. The statement also does not address the resignation of advisory board members or, as some have suggested in comments below, members of the board itself. I suspect I will not be alone in asking for greater transparency from this essential company now that the situation has been forced into the open. The public, the theatre community and the artists both past and present who care about the vitality of the Women’s Project Theatre deserve a fuller explanation of what led to this parting.

Addendum, 10:45 pm, June 26: I just visited the Women’s Project website again, to look at the list of their advisory board. It no longer appears on the site. There is no indication that any advisory board remains part of the organization.

Addendum, July 23: The Women’s Project today announced the appointment of Lisa McNulty as their new producing artistic director. She has been the artistic line producer at Manhattan Theatre Club since 2006, and will begin at the Women’s Project in September. For the New York Times report of the announcement, click here.

The issue, to me, is not whether Peter Pan is played by a man or a woman. The issue is whether Peter Pan has to be white.

Perhaps I should back up.

Mary Martin as Peter Pan

On Sunday afternoon, via tweets (and later articles) resulting from the semi-annual Television Critics Association press conferences in Los Angeles, NBC announced that the follow-up to their ratings hit The Sound of Music Live would be Peter Pan Live, utilizing the stage musical from the 50s which had already been performed live on NBC a half-century ago, in 1955, 1956 and 1960. As it had on stage, the production starred Mary Martin in one of her several signature roles.

The announcement set off a wave of dream casting on Twitter; I was one of many who called for thoughts, as did Scott Heller, deputy arts & leisure editor at The New York Times. The suggestions came quickly. “Bieber!” was shouted repeatedly, apparently with no one thinking about his recent erratic behavior and how that might work in a live scenario. Journalist Mark Harris jumped in with “Chris Colfer, call your agent,” which in the immediate rush struck me as a pretty good idea. One shrewd person proposed Taylor Mac, a fascinating thought. Elisabeth Vincentelli wrote a piece for the New York Post in which she suggested, among others, Hayden Panettiere, Daniel Radcliffe and Katy Perry; inviting comments separate from Elisabeth’s article, The Post asks, “Do you think America’s ready for a boy Peter? A tattooed one?” avoiding the more pressing question I ask.

I have no doubt there were many other ideas bandied about. But I never saw a single suggestion of a performer who was not white.

Jefferson Mays as Peter Pan at Centerstage in Baltimore (Photo by Richard Anderson)

It’s interesting that no one felt bound by gender in their musings, even though the slightly pre-adolescent Peter is typically played by an adult woman. That sense of traditionalism went right out the window (though hardly for the first time, since men have played the role before, mostly in the non-musical version). But if the Mary Martin-Sandy Duncan-Cathy Rigby dynasty was certainly up for reinvention within minutes of the announcement, why didn’t racial diversity come to anyone’s mind? Does no one remember Brandy as Cinderella in the 1997 TV movie of the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical, playing opposite a Filipino prince?

Granted, NBC wants a major star with the drawing power that Carrie Underwood brought to Sound of Music. If talent were the sole criteria, two performers who I think might be terrific in the role are Nikki M. James and Krysta Rodriguez. I’ve read that NBC would like to cast a male actor as Peter, and I’m sure there are countless famous choices who would suit – I wonder what Bruno Mars might do with the role.

Audra McDonald & Carrie Underwood in The Sound of Music

Of course, this breadth of thinking need not apply only to Peter: since Sound of Music and the 1999 TV movie of Annie were wise enough to cast Audra McDonald without getting tangled in the net of perceived historical accuracy (these are musicals, not textbooks after all), perhaps the Darling family and Captain Hook need not be staunchly Victorian white.  I have no doubt that the corps of Lost Boys and pirates will be cast multiculturally (the Spielberg film Hook helped set that standard more than 20 years ago), since that’s the “easy” route, but it’s the leads that must show the wider world.

Brandy and Paolo Montalban in Cinderella

On a related note, I am concerned about the play’s retrograde (albeit fantasy) version of Native Americans. Having never seen the Peter Pan musical (NBC is showing a remarkable knack for picking shows that highlight gaps in my theatergoing, or perhaps my childhood, as I was also new to Sound of Music), I do wonder how the character of Tiger Lily and the songs “Indians!” and “Ugg-A-Wugg” play today, not unlike Annie Get Your Gun’s now often-excised “I’m An Indian Too.” I must leave that to those better versed in the material. And don’t get me started on how it portrays Captain Hook, one of dramatic fiction’s better known disabled characters.

Obviously I didn’t see every fantasy casting tweet, and even within the 1,000+ folks that I follow, I may have missed suggestions of actors of color. Yet the reflex of those around me, one of which I quickly endorsed, were all monochromatic suggestions, and that’s where my concerns lie. Many years after repeatedly hearing of Michael Jackson’s dream of playing Peter Pan (admittedly with a troubling overlay unique to that man), we revert to the dominant race in England from the era when the play was first written, rather than flying towards a spectrum of color on our way towards the third star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.

Breaking down blinkered thinking about race is an enormous opportunity, especially when the vehicle for doing so is a beloved family musical. The ball’s in your court, NBC – and in the court of all you dreamcasters too.

The Public Works The Tempest
Photo by Joan Marcus

There are many reasons to enthuse about The Public Theatre’s inaugural “Public Works” production of The Tempest – the conception and direction of Lear de Bessonet, the original score by Todd Almond, the perfect weather that blessed each of the three evenings it was on, the enthusiastic performances centered by the Prospero of Norm Lewis. But the greatest achievement was the participation and wrangling of some 200 non-professional performers, rallied in service of a musicalized and summarized version of Shakespeare’s play.

Billed at times as a “community Tempest,” the production utilized, according to a program insert, “106 community ensemble members, 31 gospel choir singers, 1 ASL interpreter, 24 ballet dancers, 3 taxi drivers, 12 Mexican tap dancers, 1 bubble artist (who I must have missed), 10 hip hop dancers, 5 Equity actors (though there were 6 by my count), 6 taiko drummers, 1 guest star appearance (again, I must have missed that, or simply not known the performer), and 5 brass band players.” It was an undertaking of remarkable scale that put me in mind of the deeply moving finale of the New York Philharmonic’s 80^th birthday tribute to Stephen Sondheim, when the stage and aisles of Avery Fisher Hall were filled with the bodies and voices of singers uniting for “Sunday,” except that in this case, the large company was present throughout the show and the music was raucous and exuberant.

Christine Lewis & Patrick Mathieu as Alonsa & Gonzalo
Photo by Joan Marcus

The preceding litany of performers accurately suggests that this Tempest was, like Prospero’s isle, full of noises and a wide variety of styles, an at-times almost vaudeville approach to the reworked text, with a wide variety of acts sharing the same stage (I remember the Mexican tappers vividly, though I have already forgotten the pretext under which they were included). But that’s befitting a production which endeavored to engage the New York community not simply by inviting them to watch the production for free, but to participate in it as well. It was also a fitting artistic complement to The Public’s immediately preceding production at the Delacorte, a musical version of Love’s Labour’s Lost.

To be sure, this wasn’t the result of a some lunatic open call. De Bessonet and her team established relationships with specific community groups and performing ensembles and presumably they each rehearsed their segments discretely until the final days when they were assembled en masse. The program for the evening even suggests that in some cases, existing work was incorporated into The Tempest, rather than groups necessarily learning specific material. Sometimes the fragmentary nature was rather obvious (what were those cabbies doing there anyway), but at other times seamless, such as the sequence when a corps of pre-teen ballet dancers wordlessly tormented Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban.

Xavier Pacheco & Atiya Taylor as Ferdinand & Miranda
Photo by Joan Marcus

This manner of artistic engagement with the community isn’t new; the production itself was modeled on a 1915 musicalized Tempest in Harlem with a cast of 2,000. More recently, companies like Cornerstone have gone into specific communities with a handful of professionals to foster the creation of works featuring local non-professionals and there’s probably many a Music Man production which has fielded 76 trombones and more from local schools. But in Manhattan, where community based performance can be overwhelmed in the public consciousness by the sheer volume of professional arts performances, this Tempest was a reminder that a very special and joyous entertainment can emerge from the efforts of those who may not be, nor even desire to be, professional artists.

Clearly this effort was guided by expert professionals and I suspect that its budget far exceeded that of many professional productions seen in New York or around the country. Costuming alone for 200 performers takes some doing, even when many of the clothes may have been borrowed from some of the country’s top regional theatres. Just opening the Delacorte Theatre for rehearsals and performances has real cost. The level of corporate and foundation support behind this Public Works production means this isn’t likely to result in a profusion of comparable efforts.

Norm Lewis as Prospero
Photo by Joan Marcus

That said, the driving concept behind it is worthy of exploration by other groups in other cities and by other coalitions in New York as well. At a time when engagement is both a goal and a buzzword, this Tempest is a high-profile flagship that will hopefully inspire others means of mixing professionals and amateurs, that will prompt more artists to create works that encompass their community, that will even mix up audiences so that the cognoscenti sit alongside proud parents.  The production once again affirmed that community theatre is not only valuable but essential, an asset to pro companies rather than a pale imitation of them.

It was also a reminder of the power of collaboration, of the intermingling of different artistic pursuits  and organizations to create a blended whole. At a time when the arts are often seen as frivolous or disposable, there is enormous strength in variety and in numbers, sending a message about the essential and broad-based value of creativity and performance at every level of society and life. After all, no one arts group is a magically protected island – they are all part of a vast archipelago, threatened by rising tides that would seek to swamp them.

Yes, I’m serious about the headline. I feel your scorn, but before your jerking knee sends you to the orthopedist, let me get right to the point.

There are any number of things one can object to in the Fast & Furious movies: the crudely drawn characters, the wooden acting, the endless (albeit largely bloodless) violence, the reckless driving, the disregard for the rule of law, the recurrent crashing cars, the nonsensical plots, the impossible (digitally created) stunts. I could go on.

But there’s one major aspect of this popular series that’s being increasingly looked at as a reason for its success, and it’s one to be admired: the thoroughly integrated, multinational cast.

We can say that it’s Hollywood’s crass way of appealing to every possible demographic and market, both domestic and foreign, and I suspect that’s true. But the net result is a series of films in which race isn’t a major issue – and loyalty, camaraderie and self-made families are, regardless of skin color.

Sure, the nominal stars of the films are the bland white Paul Walker alongside burly Vin Diesel, who lays claim to “ambiguous ethnicity” and whose character is identified as Italian American. But look at the group surrounding them: Michelle Rodriguez (Latina, from Texas by way of the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico), Tyrese Gibson (African American from LA), Chris “Ludacris” Bridges (African American and Native American from Illinois), Elsa Pataky (Spanish), Sung Kang (Korean American originally from Georgia), Gal Gadot (Israeli) and Dwayne Johnson (from California, of Canadian and Samoan heritage). It’s not the U.N. (the villains are predominantly British, with one hulking Dane thrown in for good measure), but it is a melting pot. The director of the most recent films in the series is, not so incidentally, Taiwanese.

How many stage events can lay claim to this kind of diversity? Do we see this in our orchestras, our dance troupes, our stage productions? If we have to provide models in order to promote acceptance, and indeed our ongoing health as a field, are the Fast & Furious flicks leading the way in racial equality, under the cover of a mass entertainment that we might prefer to disdain?

And even though almost every character is strikingly attractive, both male and female, the usual gender barriers don’t apply. We might well be troubled by the gunplay and the hand-to-hand combat, but no one can say that the films are particularly sexist, since the women are equal (and often victorious) combatants, while the men take time out in the most recent film to express deep caring for a newborn child, to the extent their acting chops permit.

Don’t read too deeply into these movies – they’re all surface. But since there will always be potboilers and popcorn flicks, isn’t it remarkable to find ones that are ahead of the curve on race relations in a way that many arts groups can’t consistently demonstrate. Might not this approach ultimately serve our own bottom lines, as well as our loftier ambitions? I’m not advocating a Fast & Furious musical (dear god, no), but rather the reinforcement our own commitment to multiracial stories, colorblind casting and other initiatives, because we’ve still got a long way to go and our futures depend on a true embrace of multi-culturalism.

As Fast & Furious 7 is already in production, I can only hope that by the time number 8 roars in our direction, it will feature gay and lesbian characters as well among our band of heroes, as the series’ popularity enables it to integrate ever more inclusivity into its midst, among the explosions and wrecks. Even market-driven ensemble shoot ‘em ups need to grow up in that respect as well.

Oh, and by the way, I’ve seen four of the six films: the first was OK, the second was dull, I skipped 3 and 4, but the last two were absolute hoots. If you like that sort of thing.

Gender and racial diversity in the arts has been a topic of discussion for as long as I can remember. But the ongoing inequities in the American theatre have been simmering for a long time. Intermittent signs of progress – Garry Hynes and Julie Taymor winning Tonys in 1997, dual firsts for women; the rich cycle of plays by August Wilson that brought a black voice to Broadway and stages across the country; the current Broadway season which featured two new plays by black female writers – are received with attention and even acclaim. Yet overall, there is general consensus that these constituencies are profoundly underrepresented.

While dissatisfaction can be directed at the commercial theatre, it is decentralized; each production is its own corporate entity and producers do not consult with all of the other producers. When it comes to new plays, as it happens, a majority of the work seen on Broadway (if not from England) has emerged from not-for-profit companies. Consequently, the publicly-funded resident theatres have become the locus of attention on these issues and, accelerated by social media, the continuing lack of meaningful process may be coming to a head.

The underrepresentation of women and racially-diverse authors on our stages has come into sharp relief recently as a result of the season announcement by The Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis, one of our oldest and largest companies. In announcing a season of 11 productions thus far, there are no plays by female playwrights (although a Goldoni adaptation is by Constance Congdon), no plays by any writers of color, and only one project with a female director (more accurately, a co-director, with Mark Rylance). In the outcry that ensued, it was noted that almost 10 years ago, while rallying support and funding for The Guthrie’s new home, Dowling had specifically said the new venue would allow for a greater variety of voices; responding to current criticism, he stoked the flames by invoking and decrying “tokenism.”

This prominent example generated press coverage beyond the Minneapolis-St. Paul market, let alone an ongoing rumble of dismay across blogs and Twitter. Perhaps it was Dowling’s defensiveness that made The Guthrie situation so volatile. After all, this past season, Chicago’s acclaimed Steppenwolf Theatre mainstage season featured plays only by men (one an African American), and this from a theatre with a female artistic director; I don’t remember comparable outcry. Was this tempered by the season including several female directors? Or has the Guthrie flap made it easier to raise these issues?

Now each new season announcement is being held up to an accounting, not necessarily in its own board room, staff meeting or local press, but by activists seeking to lay bare this congenital issue. In 2012-13? Arizona Theatre Company: Six plays, all by white males. Seattle Rep: Eight plays, two by women, one of them African American. Alley Theatre in Houston: 11 productions, 2 by women (one of them Agatha Christie) and one by an Asian American man. Kansas City Rep: seven shows, six by men and one developed by an ensemble. Obviously I cannot go theatre by theatre, and I think more detailed data will be gathered, but underrepresentation of works by women and writers of color (of any gender) prevails. What of Steppenwolf? Their next five play season includes plays by one woman and one African-American man.

Is it fair to apply what some might call a quota system in assessing the diversity work on American stages? I would have to say, as so many of our resident theatres are on the verge of celebrating their 50^th anniversaries in the next few years, that a public declaration of these figures is not only fair, but necessary. Theatres have been asked by foundations, by corporations, by government funders to break down their staffs and boards by gender and race for years, and knowing that they were under scrutiny may have caused many companies to diversify internally more, or more quickly, than they might have otherwise. Actors Equity has conducted surveys of seasonal hiring, broken down for gender and race, for a number of years – another watchful eye. Now the focus must shift to the writers of the work on our stages if progress is to be made.

It is ironic that the civil rights movement in America is perhaps most associated with the 1960s, followed closely by the feminist movement — the very same period that coincidentally also saw the bourgeoning of the American resident theatre movement. How unfortunate that some of the language associated, for good or ill, with the first two efforts (tokenism, quotas) are even relevant in discussion of artistic breadth of the latter half a century later.