MARCH 1998
BY LUCIA MAURO
Words like "grounded," "gracious fortitude" and "an achingly sublime sense of tranquillity" are peppered throughout my reviews of Kristine Thatcher’s work as an actor and playwright. So it all made sense when we met and she revealed how she has "always relied on quiet industry . . . If it’s good work, people will notice."
Exacting and committed, Thatcher emits an understated kind of transcendence that would inspire anyone who believes that integrity, consistency and dedication are not genuinely appreciated to quickly change their viewpoint.
Thatcher, who can be seen regularly on Chicago’s Equity stages, just completed a groundbreaking run as the title character in Shaw Chicago’s staged reading of Mrs. Warren’s Profession at the Chicago Cultural Center. Her latest play, Voice of Good Hope–about the late legendary Texas Congresswoman Barbara Jordan–will receive a reading by Onyx Theatre on March 2.
She has successfully combined a career in playwriting, acting and raising a family. Thatcher, who is married to well-known actor David Darlow, also shared insights into how she has made adjustments to the creative process while raising their six-year-old adopted daughter, Kerry Miriam. Her multi-award-winning drama, Emma’s Child, which was produced at Victory Gardens two years ago (and later, for Chicago Theatres on the Air), was loosely based on their experiences in the adoption realm.
"For a while there, I was trying to be a playwright/actress/director," says Thatcher. "When I became a mother, something had to go. And it was really easy to give up the directing thing because I realized–after watching really excellent directors–that I wasn’t much good at it, anyway.
"When you are raising a child, you can’t go on writing binges so easily. You have to rely less on inspiration and more on discipline. By far, the greatest advantage to being an actress/playwright is that when you act, you are playing a team sport. And when you write, you fly solo most of the time. My professional and social life as an actress is crucial to me but, as I get older, I find there are fewer jobs. In a way, I feel I’ve made my transition to the solo sport in the nick of time. But it’s a deep pity."
Now in her mid-40s, Thatcher–although visible and respected throughout the Chicago theatre community– has encountered barriers because of her age. She finds this shocking, especially as one who specializes in live performance as opposed to the youth-oriented film industry. Many of her own female acting mentors in their 50’s, 60’s and 70’s usually have to travel far away from home to land satisfying, multidimensional roles.
"There’s a lot of anger in the mature actress," she emphasizes. "More than anger. There is rage. These are the best actresses in the world, and they find themselves suddenly invisible. No one writes for them. No one looks at them. A very intelligent woman director said to me the other day, 'You are getting more difficult to cast because of your age.’ I was appalled hearing it from another woman. I don’t think we have to accept this sexist, agist baloney. And I’m going to use my writing to help change it."
Not content to sit back and complain, Thatcher has been cultivating her writing for the past 14 years. And she has established an impressive track record of deeply human dramas, many of which have been performed outside Chicago.
In 1984, Thatcher was on the fringe of the Milwaukee Repertory Theater Company when John Dillon headed it. She had been acting for 15 years, and Dillon thought it was time for her to try other things, like directing. He gave Thatcher a play about Lorine Niedecker (1903-1970), an obscure-but-compelling Wisconsin poet, as well as a collection of Niedecker’s poems. She relates the evolution of Niedecker–a stunningly introspective work mounted last fall by Writers’ Theatre Chicago in Glencoe with Thatcher in the lead.
"John said, 'If you like the play, we’ll just do it. If you prefer the poetry, of course, we’ll have to assign a writer to put this woman’s life into some sort of theatrical form.’ I hated the play, but I loved the poetry. Fortunately for me, Larry Shue and Amlin Grey were playwrights in residence around that time, and I had been able to work with them from the ground up on two of their new plays.
"I must have been much more vocal during the process than I remember, because Larry was always telling me to put my money where my big mouth was," she continues. "He was always after me to write. So I went to John and told him I wanted to write, not direct, the life of Lorine Niedecker. He was surprised, I think, but he was game. He gave me a deadline. I had to turn up with something. The first draft was dreadful. The workshop was dreadful. But John, Larry and Amlin were always supportive. They never gave up on me. About 20 drafts, later, Niedecker happened.
The first production, however, did not take place at Milwaukee Rep. The BoarsHead Theater in Thatcher’s native Lansing, Mich., where she got her start acting at the age of 16, were attracted to the script. BoarsHead directors John Peakes and Richard Thomsen immediately jumped on the opportunity and premiered Niedecker in early 1986. It was later produced at Milwaukee Rep and The Women’s Project in New York City.
Thatcher explains that she was somewhat taken off guard when Michael Halberstam, artistic director of Writers’ Theatre Chicago, e-mailed her regarding Niedecker. Kate Buckley, who eventually directed the Glencoe production, wanted to do it, and Thatcher recalled spontaneously e-mailing Halberstam back with her blessing as long as she played the role of Lorine Niedecker. Her terms were met. What resulted was one of the most profoundly sensitive productions of 1997.
Thatcher, who does not make it a habit of starring in her own plays, felt a special connection to Niedecker, a play that no longer needed a lot of fine-tuning.
"I would not want to act in one of my newly minted plays," she acknowledges. "They must have a big track record before I jump in. I want to be able to concentrate on my acting rather than worry about re-writing the script."
She adds that Buckley gave her a new perspective on the character of Niedecker, which helped shape her complex portrayal. Thatcher also notes that the director respected the playwright’s desire to not over-sentimentalize the story.
Thatcher came to Chicago in 1985. She met Darlow when they were performing together in The Real Thing, directed by Michael Maggio at Northlight Theatre. They decided to settle in Chicago because as Thatcher jokingly puts it, "I wanted to go back to New York, and David wanted to go to L.A. But we couldn’t decide. So we stayed in Chicago, which turns out to be a very kid-friendly place."
She is drawn to the local theatre community, which she views as a "huge repertory company." Having experienced "the every man for himself" mentality of New York, Thatcher finds it refreshing to be part of a pool of artists committed to doing good work and establishing collaborative relationships. Among the productions she has appeared in with Darlow were Northlight’s Betrayal, Apple Tree’s Three Hotels, and The Merchant of Venice at Oak Park Festival Theatre, where Darlow once served as artistic director.
But they also do their fair share of separate work. Thatcher was recently seen in Away at Northlight, The Merry Wives of Windsor at Shakespeare Repertory and Arcadia at the Goodman. Her approach to acting, she shares, is quite pragmatic and involves several readings.
"I look at the spine of the character," she explains. "The spine is the one sentence in which you can sum up the play. My job is to make the scenes add up to what the playwright wants."
As an actor, she has been given the chance to "get inside all that great writing," which gives her a crucial edge as a playwright. Interestingly, her plays have been produced mainly outside Chicago. Dennis Zacek, artistic director of Victory Gardens, changed that when Emma’s Child received its local premiere there in 1996.
From where does she draw her inspiration?
"Of course I draw on personal experience when I write," says Thatcher. "It’s all personal. That doesn’t necessarily mean it happened to me. It just means I take it personally. A good writer takes real life and embroiders it with imagination. I put the threads of who I am into every character, every story.
"Emma’s Child is as close to autobiography as I care to get, and yet some people found it hard to believe certain elements of the story that were gospel truth. If they knew what I had left out, they would have been incredulous. Truth is stranger than fiction. It’s important to know how much the audience is going to abide. There is a larger truth that they demand, and the playwright has to tell it."
Another earlier work was Waiting for Tina Meyers, which Thatcher based on the journals of the late Larry Shue. It premiered at New York’s West Bank Cafe in 1989.
Then she wrote Under Glass in 1991. It is actually the prequel to Emma’s Child, and takes a couple through the their early struggles with infertility. Although Under Glass has never been produced, the playwright believes that it is "the most compelling, the most honest thing" she has written because it helped her reach a very healing decision in her life.
Another play, Apparitions (commissioned by Peninsula Players in 1993 and premiered by them two years later), evolved into a joyous experience.
"My assignment was 'to write a play about the history or unique character of Door County,’" says Thatcher. "Once I started the research, I was like a kid in a candy shop. I could write 50 plays on this subject."
She encourages aspiring playwrights to get their hands on "The Dramatist’s Sourcebook" and follow its guidelines. Other suggestions include entering contests, applying for grants and fellowships, and finding a reputable literary agent.
Most recently, Thatcher has been commissioned to write a play for Victory Gardens, where she is a member of the company’s Playwrights Ensemble. And she is working on a commission from the Purple Rose Theatre Company.
When asked what types of plays audiences hunger for today, Thatcher responded in the realm of timeless universalities: "Whatever live event can amaze, or entertain, or soothe or challenge–that’s what they’re looking for. They look for a great story. That’s what I look for. If I laugh hard or cry hard, I go home rested. If I laugh hard and cry hard in the same evening, I go home exalted."
And, in the end, the process of playwriting–like acting (and just about everything else in life)–comes down to trust and open-mindedness.
"If a subject moves me, I trust it will move others," Thatcher surmises. "I don’t go looking for the right story. The right story comes looking for me. When it makes itself known, I write.