Richard Christiansen

Former chief critic for the Chicago Tribune

"Everyone here tonight probably has a story to tell about a production at Hull House that has had an influence on their lives in the theatre. My own story began in 1963, when I attended and was profoundly moved by the first play directed by the great Bob Sickinger for Hull House Players.

"But of all these stories connected with this theatre, here's one that I especially like to remember. It's a lovely story about Hull House, and, even better, it's also a joyous story about the great tradition of theatre in Chicago: In 1981, after Calvin MacLean, then a very young director, had landed his first teaching job at Southern Illinois University, he came up to Chicago to see Steppenwolf's Balm in Gilead at Hull House Theatre, and, as Cal later told me, "I was just swept away by it. I knew that it was one of the most beautiful things I was ever going to see in the theatre, and at the same time I felt that I would never be able to do anything nearly as wonderful. It was a dream beyond me, and I was split right down the middle between elation and envy."

"Eleven years later, in 1992, when Cal directed Conquest of the South Pole for Famous Door at Hull House, Jeff Perry and Francis Guinan, both of whom had appeared in Balm in Gilead, came to a performance of Conquest, and after the show, they hung around to reminisce a little about their Steppenwolf days here. Jeff spotted the backstage sink he had installed, and he pointed out that the low beam on which actors had always bumped their heads was still there. Then, Fran and Jeff told Dan Rivkin, who was in the cast of Conquest, that it was one of the best productions they had seen in years.

"Dan naturally told this to Cal, and Cal said, "I could not have wished for a greater compliment. I felt like a dream had come true." That is just one of the sweet dreams that this little theatre has fostered in its long history of pioneering work, from Bob Sickinger in 1963 to About Face in 2002.

"Tonight, as we say goodbye to Hull House, let's be assured that, though its physical space will be no more, the creative spirit that found a home here for so many years will go on. It's an essential part of our past, and a proud part of our future."

Eric Simonson

Eric Simonson, former Chicago stage director well remembered for Steppenwolf's The Song of Jacob Zulu and nominated for an Oscar last year for his documentary on Ladysmith Black Mambazo, writes from Milwaukee, where he's directing at Milwaukee Rep:

"My time in Chicago, all those years ago, is where I learned to do theatre. Hearing about the Jane Addams Hull House closing brought back a flood of memories. So has working again with Steve Pickering after many many years. I'm directing him as Ahab in a new Moby Dick–a fortunate bit of casting in that he's right for the role and the only one crazy enough to wear a peg leg for two hours.

"I think the time I was directing at the Jane Addams Center (As You Like It, Waiting for Godot), Pickering was living there–somewhere in the back in some room (I didn't want to know much more than that). He was also acting in shows there, designing costumes (if that's what you call those ingenious contraptions in Animal Farm). He designed my poster for As You Like It, and then choreographed its fight scene, a kind of insane post-nuclear ice hook competition (it made no sense, but it looked great). Steve's work, and mine I suppose, reminds me how wonderful it was to have a place where the kids could play, where there were no rules and the only way to solve an artistic problem was to figure it out yourself. The Jane Addams Hull House gave us that. The shows were low-budget and committed; sometimes messy and wrong-headed; sometimes passionate, inspired and revelatory; but always dedicated to seeing if we could top ourselves and then each other.

"You can always tell a great theatre just by walking into it. You can sense its history and its comfort. At the Jane Addams Hull House it was the smell, feel and taste as you turned the corner from the aisle behind the house to the aisle leading to the stage -- it kind of wrapped its arms around you. It felt like slipping on an old baseball glove. That I will miss more than any of the shows I directed there."

Christopher Cartmill

Chris Cartmill, who won a Jeff Citation for his performance here in Bailiwick Repertory's The Lisbon Traviata and wrote Incorruptible, writes from New York:

"It was an extraordinary place and it was an extraordinary time for a lot of people. I know it was for me. So many of Chicago's best have passed through that place. Not a person I have spoken to doesn't consider it one of the best (warmest and, at the same time, most challenging) performance spaces they have ever worked in or known. It was a playground where lots of things were possible, where I found a voice–both as an actor and a writer–and was allowed to use it.

"The very first show I did in Chicago I did there. Eric Simonson's production of As You Like It. I was playing Oliver and always got there well before call (a habit I haven't lost). In the back dressing room, Tim Monsion, who was playing Jacques, also settled in early. He would prepare by carefully crimping his hair with a curling iron. The operation was precise and the same every night. Section by section he would spray his hair with Final Net, then apply the iron. It would sizzle like bacon. He didn't seem to notice. 

"I remember the smell. I remember the dust-overed lights. The piles of crutches from some production of Animal Farm on a shelf overhead. The occasional mouse. I remember the dirty mirrors. I remember seeing smoke coming from Tim's head more than once. And out of the blue one night Tim said (in his improbable and elegant way), 'Never forget–it is a gift. It is a gift you are giving the audience.’"

Scott Lowell

Scott Lowell, now star of the TV series "Queer as Folk," writes from LA:

"Soon after I got to Chicago from the backwoods of Connecticut, I spent an entire year acting in the Hull House. Starting in the fall of 1988 with Greg Allen's Orwell Down and Out, moving on to Wild Honey. Incorruptible came next followed by the regrettable God Nose. (Seriously, Albert and everyone there, I am so sorry for putting you through that.)

"Hull House came to symbolize to me everything a theatre should be. I remember beseeching David Zak (as Bailiwick Repertory was then its tenant) to form a permanent, resident acting ensemble (with me in it of course) so that I could spend the rest of my life creating in that space. The possibilities always seemed endless there. Whether it was from the ghosts of theatre companies that came before us or some magical alchemy of layout, I never quite figured out. The first play I wrote was an adaptation of It's a Wonderful Life, and every stage direction was aimed at the Hull House stage. Using the balconies above the audience, the 'voms’ behind them, surrounding them with theatre. It never got produced, but I'm not bitter.

"The intimacy and immediacy of the space fascinated me. Yes, the carpets rivaled those of a 69-year-old movie theatre in terms of grunginess and foreign objects ground into them. Yes, the smell could sometimes rival that of the New York subway system and yes, the dressing rooms would never be mistaken for…well, actual dressing rooms. But who cared? It was a giant Petri dish waiting for us to wipe a saliva-laden swab over it and see what kind of bacteria would grow. Wait. That didn't quite come out the way I hoped it would. But you get what I mean. It inspired imagination and that's when great theatre happens. How many spaces can say the same–that they actually inspire! The Hull House truly represents to me what great Chicago theatre is about and the kinds of artists it produces. My experiences there grounded me. How can you ever get a false sense of your own importance once you've cleaned out the toilets there, sewn your own costumes, and helped make lights out of coffee cans?

"A favorite memory? Hmm. It would have to be sweating through all six hours of Incorruptible on a Saturday (matinee, part 1; evening, part 2) for a meager six people and walking out the front door of the Hull House to see a line of close to 100 leather daddies stretching around the block to come see the late-night performance of Jerker, the gay phone sex drama with real jerking off action. Kind of put things in perspective for me. Is it any wonder I'm on 'Queer as Folk’ now? Mama didn't raise no dummy. I saw what the people wanted and I'm a-givin' it to 'em!

"The Hull House is a huge part of Chicago theatre history. I hope who ever resides there next places a plaque: 'On these hallowed grounds stood the Hull House Theatre. It was Chicago theatre.’"

Timothy Monsion

Tim Monsion writes from Los Angeles, where he divides his time between acting and running a walkup Haagen-Dasz stand:

"In some ways theatres are like musical instruments. Some are tough to play. Others play easily. As a living theatre space the Hull House was close to perfect. Among other things, it gave the actor the opportunity to play big or small. Standing in the middle of the stage with a full house you had audience at your feet so near that if you swept your arm you would hit them in the head. But it also gave you a balcony that was just distant enough that you could play to it in full voice rather grandly, as in Shakespeare for instance, and not feel you were overpowering the space. Most theatre spaces have some annoying peculiarity that actors have to fight through to get the story of the play to the audience. This space always seemed, instead, to nurture the actor and the audience to the story.

"I remember playing Waiting for Godot with Skip Sudduth. The space allowed such intimacy that it felt the audience surrounding us were merely eavesdropping on quiet simple moments and the actual mechanics of the playing seemed effortless.

"Theatre is ephemeral. It lives mostly in memory. And in that way a good theatre space is haunted by the ghosts of past performances. You feel it when you walk in. The mystery of an individual theatre. Ah, yes, you say, I can smell it. It's a good space–haunted by memory."

Lois Weisburg:

Commissioner, City of Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs:

To Members of the Chicago Theatre Community, the Lakeview Neighborhood, and the family of Paul Jans:

It is with deep regret that I must say farewell to Hull House in the Lakeview neighborhood. I spent many years there enjoying the offerings presented to the people of Lakeview and also participated as a teacher of a teenage theatre program.

I will never forget Hull House and the wonderful things it has done for me and my family.

I am but one of many who have fond memories of the Hattie Callner Memorial Theatre at the Jane Addams Center Hull House and recognize its contributions. I applaud the organizers of this Living History event.

It is a wonderful occasion to join together in community, to pause, to remember and to celebrate the history and legacy of this Chicago treasure and its visionary founder, as well as to say goodbye and thank you.

It has earned a rightful place in the history of our city for its landmark role as home, venue and incubator of a who's who in the arts and for its significant contributions to developing Chicago's unique off-Loop theatre movement.

The spirit and influences of this special place will live on in our memories and its impact on the theatre community and theatre-goers for generations to come.

Warmest wishes,

Lois Weisberg, Commissioner

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Hull House Closes It's Doors