A Retirement Gift from Rival Colleagues
Hedy Weiss, Chicago Sun-Times
I was thinking about giving Richard a gift in honor of his retirement. What I saw in my mind’s eye was a basic navy blue parka of Eddie Bauer provenance (I have seen him trudge into the cold in such a coat on many a winter’s night). But I would have a special motto emblazoned on its back. It would read (and I offer apologies to the U.S. Post Office here): "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night could stay this courier from the swift completion of his appointed rounds."
At the top of any list of Richard’s many and varied talents I would put the word "tireless." Long before I arrived in Chicago almost two decades ago, he had set the pace, and it was a relentless, breathless gallop. The wonder of it is that not only did he never appear to be sweating, but he never once showed any signs of easing into a more moderate trot. I suspect he will simply chalk this up to his vigorous Danish constitution.
I’ve always remembered a story that my predecessor at the Sun-Times, Glenna Syse, once told me about Richard, and I don’t think she would mind if I revealed it now. She recalled that they were both in London for a week, seeing the usual 14 shows in seven days, and on several occasions they would meet for a nice dinner, ordering wine and dessert and chatting in a relaxed way. Glenna would return to her hotel and go to sleep, exhausted from a day on the town, and planning to write a round-up of all she’d seen upon her return to Chicago. It was only after she’d got back home and flipped through the papers that had appeared while she was out of town that she realized Richard had filed a story from London almost every single day.
Richard’s energy shows no signs of abating, even now, and I’m sure he will continue to write and travel at a furious pace in the decades to come. He probably already has some secret projects cooking. But, on the basis of a recent chat we had, I think he has a few more surprising plans in the works, too.
Several weeks ago we were in an off-Loop theatre lobby talking jointly to a very young and talented director, who shall remain nameless. The fellow was sporting a spikey, henna-tinted hairdo and several piercings. And after he left I turned to Richard and said, jokingly: "Once you retire, I fully expect to see you get a haircut like that, and maybe even a nose ring."
Without missing a beat, he said: "Oh, and that’s not all–tattoos, the whole thing."
Well, after all, he has always had a love of things theatrical. Now, about that retirement gift: I’m thinking about throwing in a specially printed t-shirt, as well. And this time, apologies must go to John Steinbeck’s "Tom Joad." It will read: "I’ll be aroun’ in the dark. I’ll be ever’where–wherever you look. Wherever there’s a storefront, so young actors can perform, I’ll be there. Wherever there’s a fire inspector trying to close down a theatre in a loft, I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re trying to put some emotion in a bad playwright’s lines. I’ll be in the way audiences laugh when they’ve just heard a great joke. And when our actors play the scripts of the playwrights we have nurtured, and stand on the stages they have built-why I’ll be there."
And he will, too. I’d bet on it.
Albert Williams, Chief Theatre Critic, Chicago Reader
People who only know Richard Christiansen from his Chicago Tribune reviews during the last 20 years may not appreciate the monumental influence he had in the mid-1960s, not only as a critic but as an arts editor. Richard’s stewardship of Panorama, the weekend arts supplement in the late, lamented Chicago Daily News, expressed a vibrant vision of Chicago’s potential as a center of theatrical creativity rather than merely a stopover for Broadway tours. In a time when most aspiring theatre professionals viewed Chicago as a good place to be FROM rather than to be IN, Panorama nurtured the idea that Chicago had a unique cultural sensibility that could nourish a grassroots theatre scene. The fact that Christiansen, as an arts editor as well as a reviewer, was willing to devote space and attention to what some tastemakers viewed as "too far out" for supposedly conservative Chicagoans–for instance, the pioneering avant-garde productions of director Robert Sickinger at Hull House Theatre–helped lay the foundation for the emergence of off-Loop theatre. Later, as the Trib’s chief critic, Richard continued to build on that foundation–not only in his reviews but in the editorial battles he’s fought behind the scenes.
I first met Richard in 1968, when I was a senior at Evanston Township High School. The speech arts department was presenting the world premiere of a student-written musical called Surely You Jest, and as a member of the ensemble I was assigned publicity chores. Knowing Christiansen to be a champion of new, local work, I called him and naively asked for an appointment to discuss the possibility of him writing about our show. He politely received me at his office, and of course he turned me down, explaining that the paper didn’t cover high school theatre. (As it happens, the show was written by an eager kid named Jeffrey Sweet, whose mature work as a playwright Richard has applauded in print.) But rather than brushing me off as many journalists might have done, he treated me with the utmost professional courtesy, turning what could have been devastating rejection into an encouraging, even empowering experience. I’m grateful for his continued encouragement and support over the years. And all of us who care about Chicago theatre should be grateful that the right man was in the right place at the right time.
Jonathan Abarbanel, Head Critic, Windy City Times, Senior Writer, PerformInk
Richard Christiansen helped set me on my course to become the Establishment critic and theatre journalist I am today. That’s right, you can blame him. In addition to his work as a reviewer, Richard spent many years as an editor. In that capacity he always was willing to mentor young writers, especially when he was editor of the Panorama arts and entertainment section of the lost and lamented Chicago Daily News. Back in 1970 or 1971, he bought a story from me for Panorama that was my first byline in a daily newspaper, and my first in any "big," above-ground publication. Prior to that (and for many years after) I wrote for underground papers like the old Chicago Seed and Chicago Daily Planet. My recollection is that I was paid only $30 or $35 for the story, but it was an imprimatur of success. When my father, a life-long Daily News reader, saw my byline in Panorama, it gave legitimacy to the idea of being a writer, and a writer about theatre at that.
Richard ran several other pieces of mine over the next few years and, in the dying months of the Daily News (it folded in 1978), I was invited to become a regular contributor to a new, hip feature section edited by Abe Peck (whom I first met when he edited The Seed with Marshal Rosenthal). The Daily News always was known as a writers’ paper, and I was proud to have been a small part of it, thanks to Richard Christiansen.
Richard always has been a first-rate reporter in addition to being a reviewer and editor. Indeed, some critics–especially those who are staff writers at daily papers–will tell you that "All I do is report what I see." The late Glenna Syse used to minimize the critic’s task by using that phrase. But I’m not talking about the always-subjective "reporting" of a show; I mean the nose for a hard-news story and the ability to find it. Not many critics are used to covering the news, or digging it out, not even news of the theatre industry. Richard’s abilities as a reporter are why, in his years at the Tribune, we’ve seen his byline in the business section and on the front page as well as in Tempo and Arts & Leisure. In a city like Chicago, a thriving theatre industry is part of the larger body politic. To be a top arts writer, you’d better know how both the industry and the body politic work, and where they overlap. Dick Christiansen knows.
A final thought: one of the reasons Richard’s work is so admired is that his love of theatre, his passion for it, is so self-apparent. It’s apparent that he sees theatre as an extension of his own deeply humanistic nature. As reserved as his professional demeanor may be in a theatre seat, he sure wears his heart on his sleeve in print. And, you know, that’s a pretty good way for a critic to dress.
Thank you, Richard, for being a mentor, a role model and an inspiring writer. I’ll see you on the aisle.
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