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BY LUCIA MAURO
"I’m a redneck farmer from Alabama," proclaims Robert Scogin at an Uptown diner. "That’s what I am. Everything else is just a veneer. If you learn to speak well, you can be whoever you want to be."
It’s tough to argue with–or even respond to–someone who offers such a straightforward assessment of his character. But the ubiquitous Chicago director-actor, while unabashedly celebrating his rugged roots and admitting to wearing many masks, draws on a vast wealth of knowledge and experience. Scogin is a fanatical reader and researcher, who constantly harps on theatre artists to master their craft. For many years, he has coached actors and imparted on them the importance of constantly honing their language skills. And he is widely respected for his ability as a director and actor to humanize the iconic characters found in Shakespeare, Shaw, Ibsen and Chekhov.
It’s probably accurate to say that not too many "redneck farmers" can list scores of New York and regional acting-directing credits on their resumes or can claim that they serve as both artistic director of ShawChicago and managing director of Next Theatre.
Following on the heels of his impeccably balanced production of A Doll’s House at Next, Scogin is getting set to direct ShawChicago’s concert reading of Arms and the Man (April 28-May 19) at the Chicago Cultural Center’s Studio Theatre, and creating strategies to reduce Next Theatre’s $25,000 debt. A familiar face at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre and the Goodman, he’s taken an acting hiatus to tackle more directing and administrative projects.
ShawChicago, which began as a program of free staged readings wholly supported by the city’s Department of Cultural Affairs, recently struck out on its own.
"Now, after seven years," says Scogin, "we’re ready to do a fully staged production of a Shaw play, which requires other funding. We had to have 501C3 status. We were already stretching the Cultural Center’s monetary resources. It just happened that our hopes and aspirations met theirs at the same time. The Cultural Center can spread out its resources."
He notes that the Cultural Center underwrote the first two ShawChicago shows of this season and provided them with the Studio Theatre and Storefront Theatre spaces gratis. He is in the midst of scouting out a permanent space in the Loop. For the 2001-02 season, Scogin plans to direct Shaw’s The Millionaires in a co-production with Next, which plans to return to a three-show season.
While Scogin can talk endlessly about the challenges of raising funds and writing grants, he gets particularly animated sharing his approach to directing the work of classic playwrights and what drives his artistic vision. For A Doll’s House, he chose Frank McGuinness’ crisp, vernacular translation/adaptation to illustrate the relevance of this groundbreaking 1879 play for contemporary audiences.
"We weren’t interested in doing a museum piece," states Scogin. "I thought, let’s approach the play as if it’s never been done before and keep it as naturalistic as possible. I was concerned with how A Doll’s House affects us today. Ibsen has shown those masks we wear brilliantly and what occurs when we let down those masks.
"It’s also important to remember that Ibsen’s original title was A Doll House, indicating that everyone–Nora, Torvald, Mrs. Linde, Krogstad, Dr. Rank, Anne-Marie–is trapped in that stifling house. It’s not until they leave that they gain perspective on the falseness of their behavior within those confines. So it’s not just Nora’s story–it’s all of their stories."
He continues, "Ibsen and Shaw were masters of the craft of playwriting. My feeling is I don’t have to write a new play. I have to figure out how to do justice to the text."
Scogin remains a stickler for details. He reads everything he can get his hands on about a play and the playwright before he begins to cast or formulate a vision for the show. "You must do your homework," Scogin announces in his characteristic clipped tone of voice. "You need to learn about the playwright; what led up to this point to convince him or her to write this particular play, and the socioeconomic and political climate of their country and times that made them look at society this way.
"Playwrights have to write that play. I had some very good college professors who proved to me that all of these writers really had something to say. When I finish reading a script and say, 'I never would have thought of that,’ then I want to do that play."
He is meticulous about the translation/adaptation he chooses, insisting that the translator should be very adept at playwriting and fearless enough to give the work a modern sensibility without altering the original meaning. He also encourages translators/adapters to "trust the masters" and understand why a play came into existence. If they abstract it or update it into irrelevance, Scogin urges them to just write their own play.
The director discusses his process–from choosing the play to ongoing improvements during the run. His first criteria?
"Does this play move me or excite me, and how would I present it to excite other people?" responds Scogin. "No matter how competent an idea, it must be executed so that anyone can get it. Our job is to present a text so that the average Joe can understand every second of it, get excited and want to go out and see another play. It’s not their fault if they don’t get it–it’s our fault."
He then plunges into his massive research before he settles on "the emotional life of the characters." While he holds auditions, Scogin–who has been in the Chicago theatre scene since 1977–has a pretty comprehensive grasp of artists who can "be" those characters rather than "act" them. So he might just pick up the phone and offer them a role. He looks for believable actors with strong language skills.
From here, Scogin assembles a design team with a deep understanding of the play and a willingness to support the text. He points to the scenic resonance of A Doll’s House that was embodied in a golden interior filled with warm colors and comfortable furnishings contrasted with the 'black void’ in which it was set.
Scogin also searches for a central visual idea to illuminate the play. He found it unexpectedly at a thrift shop: a 19th century lithograph of a little girl ironing with her doll resting nearby. This image became the show’s logo and was enlarged to form the centerpiece of the stage set.
"Once you do all that," he continues, "you re-read the script and determine if the script will support these physical production ideas. With A Doll’s House, I had to make sure the production was making a statement without distorting Ibsen’s view. Know that the playwright is smarter than you are."
His scholarly approach to accessibility also applies to how he defines a director–essentially the means for realizing the playwright’s vision.
"Let’s face it," Scogin asserts. "There are fewer jobs for directors than there are for actors. For me, it’s not about a Bob Scogin production. I would rather have audiences ask, 'Who directed this production?’ Audiences don’t come to the theatre to see a particular director. They come to see the actors recreate a text–and anything that interferes with the text must disappear."
He often commends his professors at Florence State College in Alabama, where he majored in English and minored in theatre. They showed him why it was important to look at novels, plays, essays and paintings over and over again "because they had something to say about humanity no matter what the time."
Scogin’s exhaustive scouring of libraries led him to conclude that "anything you need to know, you can find." He also figured out that there are only 50 plots and about 75 different scenarios.
"I learned at an early point," he says, "that nothing is original. All you can have is an original take on something. Human beings have not changed in 3,000 years. Only the technology around us has changed. The same things make us cry and get angry and happy."
Scogin grew up on a cotton farm but, by age 11, moved with his family into the city and found that his peers at school had received a more advanced education. So he began hitting the books–spending endless hours in the library until he surpassed his fellow students.
Scogin initially thought of majoring in education in college but once again gravitated to theatre. His plan was to attend Florence State College for one year then transfer to the University of Alabama–but he ended up staying at Florence and constantly performed in shows. The head of the drama department urged him to become a professional actor.
After a two-year stint in the U.S. Army (stationed in Texas), where he starred in more plays, Scogin headed directly for New York City. The year was 1963, and he immediately enrolled in acting and movement classes. One successful strategy he developed was to go to shows he didn’t get cast in and study the actors’ technique.
"I had to learn the technical aspects of theatre," he says. "And I had to develop my vocal skills. I had a southern accent and a speech impediment when I was a child. I also studied dance and attended the opera and observed the artists because the form was similar to Shakespeare. Technique is the foundation needed for portraying humanity."
But Scogin was not fond of The Method. He studied Stanislavsky Technique with Stella Adler and claims "the straw that broke the camel’s back was when she asked me to become an orange one day." So he left, noting that Adler refused to refund his money. He then got cast in an off-off-Broadway flop, Children of the Ladybug, which opened and closed the same night (with an irritable Shelly Winters in the audience). But at the cast party, he met a woman from the Theatre Guild who liked his work and eventually set up an audition for him with the American Shakespeare Theatre. He got cast in As You Like It. From that point, he worked non-stop for 12 years in New York, appearing on Broadway in Henry V.
He also built up many directing and acting credits, including Missouri Repertory Theatre, California Shakespeare Festival, Indiana Repertory Theatre, New American Theatre and the Guthrie. Scogin settled in Chicago 24 years ago–sparked to leave Manhattan when a garbage, transit and newspaper strike hit. He immediately got commercial work and soon hooked up with the Goodman and Chicago Shakespeare Theatre. Work continued at Wisdom Bridge, Northlight, Writers’ Theatre and Marriott’s Lincolnshire.
Through the Chicago Cultural Center’s "Chicago Artists International Exchange Program," Scogin had the opportunity to teach Shakespeare at the Turkish State Theatre Conservatory in Ankara last year. While there, he also directed An Evening of Shakespeare (in Turkish) at the Conservatory. The production later toured Nicosia, Cyprus. The Cultural Center teamed up with ShawChicago to bring Ankara’s Karagoz Puppet Theatre to Chicago. He hopes to someday bring ShawChicago artists to Turkey, which boasts the largest state-supported theatre in the world.
He’s now dividing his time between ShawChicago and Next, which is planning a benefit in mid-May.
When asked his age, before he heads out for a slew of appointments, Scogin once again responds in a disarmingly direct tone, "I’m 63-years-old, and I don’t care who knows it."