© Illustration by Chris MacDonald

Award-winning director, actor, writer, singer, educator, mentor, husband, and tremendous friend, Jerry Dixon is currently in his third year as the Artistic Director of Village Theatre in the Seattle Metropolitan area. Village Theatre is a major regional theatre producing a five-show mainstage season serving 20,000 collective subscribers, and additionally housing a youth education program which serves over 57,000 young people, families and schools annually. It is also the “home-theatre” and employer for hundreds of people year-round. 

Jerry Dixon was undoubtedly the first person I wanted to check-in on to learn how the current state of the world is shaping the role and responsibility of the theatre and its practitioners going forward.

I am very fortunate to have known Jerry for five years now, and always find myself completely captivated by his wisdom, incomparable calmness, and brilliant perspective, both inside and outside of the theater. With so much to dive-in on, Jerry started our conversation: 

“One of the first questions you get from your friends right now is ‘how are you doing, coping with the boredom?’”

He chuckled. 

“I am coping with a lot of things, but boredom is not one of them. I have never been so busy in my entire life!”

I jumped right-in asking: with the theatre and stage always having been a place to inspire, entertain, and educate, how are you seeing this dictate the plan going forward considering the year we are having?

“Even though live theatre is in it’s pause, the reconstruction of what we want the theatre to be when we open the doors and start producing again has begun, and a lot of it started with our response to COVID and how we would open our doors safely, and that was hard enough. Then in the middle of all that, we get our social unrest crisis. I think we had no idea how much it would exacerbate the COVID recovery, by calling into question what it would mean to be a theatre maker. The cultural crisis really shed a light on the fact that we all have much, much much work to do.”

“As a leader of a theater you realize you don’t speak for yourself. So I am often careful of what I say. But now, it was also a combination of really feeling fearful of even my very life, my very existence as a black man in America, it comes back at you. My mother said, “don’t ever forget who you are, and what you look like. It doesn’t matter what your station becomes, the United States is still a dangerous place for a black man.’ I have had instances where I have definitely felt that, but there are also times where I have allowed my position and my privilege to allow me to forget that for a second, and I’ve let my guard down.”

“So, back to my theater. With my artistic team, we have been in the process of restructuring what we want the theatre to look like when it opens next year. What will it feel like when an actor walks in the door? Will they feel any change? Will a crew member still see people who don’t look like them? Will the orchestra pit be any more integrated? Because, it never has been. We are crafting a version of the theatre that we want to work in. We are going to build a version of theatre that we think people could thrive in, and if we were all gone, at least we would leave the theatre in better shape than we found it. My resident music director put it really well saying: “This is really cool. If this place was reduced to rubble, and someone found our plan, they would know how to build the ideal theatre.” That is how clear, intentional, and deliberate we are being in our reconstruction.” 

I know when you first entered the position the goal was to bring the Village a TONY, has that goal changed? 

“No, no. Because the thing is… This aspirational restructuring idea is about building a greater*, better, place. I am very much into being a company of fulfillment, and if that means a TONY that’s great, that’s a piece of the fulfillment. But, more than anything, your achievement of that award is happening because you are doing all the things right. And not just the execution of the stage-art.”

*Jerry initially was playing with the word “safe” and then offered his opinion on the word choice: 

“Safe is a word that is thrown around, and it’s ‘okay’ but frankly it’s a low bar. I think theaters should all be safe, but they should also be places where you can be bold and brave and audacious and ‘go out on a limb’ with your art. So, you have to build a space where voices can be heard, and bodies can bring their ‘whole-selves’ to work without feeling in-danger of being unseen.” 

Your position and voice is really an important one for many reasons – being a black, gay, artist, director and, on top of it all, the face of a theatre company in 2020. Does it ever feel like many different hats? 

“It doesn’t feel like a lot of different things, there’s a commonality in all of it. Even if I am doing twelve different things, the pillars don’t change. Most of us go to the theatre because we crave community, and as we grow up, we wonder if community can actually become our livelihoods. The new thing for me… I just identified two months ago… I recognized… I have never had, or held, a position. Prior to this (position), I have always been project based. For the first time in my entire life, I am part of a continual community.” 

From this point in our conversation, Jerry and I elaborated extensively on the importance, impact and power of having a community. Like Jerry, for many of us it can be co-workers, friends, family, or a combination of it all. We were highlighting the essentials of what it takes for a like-minded group of individuals, generally working towards a common goal, to move forward when addressing issues or realities as a unit. This is also while addressing room for improvement and chances to learn from within as well. 

For Jerry, he referenced his immediate team of about twelve administrative and staff members of Village Theatre, for which he meets with on a weekly basis. Jerry told me of how the pandemic and nationwide unrest over racial injustice has shaped their conversations, tactics, transparency, and the company’s response both internally and externally. He recounted an earlier meeting they had during the Spring, addressing the Black Lives Matter movement and how they would find ways to be better as a company. Jerry elaborated on one of the early meetings and how he posed the question:

“‘Are we going to have this conversation? If we are going to have this conversation, we are going to have this conversation.’ They responded with. ‘Do you want to have this conversation? To which I responded, ‘I would say no.’ Somebody asked ‘Why?’ And I said, ‘I am no longer going to be the good negro. Because we are now in the see something, say something world, so raise your hand if you want me to tell you a truth.’” 

He tells me that only one of the twelve team members raised his hand – a  resident music director, volunteering to learn about his previous faults. Jerry recounted a time in auditions for an R&B musical. A white actress sang the musical number exactly as she had prepared, was thanked, and left. Only to be followed by a black actress, who sang her musical number as she prepared - using her own melodies, vocal choices and style. 

This resident music director then asked the black actress if she could present a version in ‘legit’ singing, a style of singing that embraces a more classical vocal approach. The double-standard was blatant. However, Jerry commended the team member for his bravery to listen, reflect, accept, and be the only one willing to volunteer to hear of ways he could improve. Jerry continued:

“We can’t write each other off and think of each other as pages and chapters. Take the whole f*cking book. This cancel culture, and unforgiveness – I don’t believe in that. I believe you have to allow that people will make mistakes, but you also have to allow yourself to forgive them and move on. You have to reserve some of that grace for yourself, cause we are all going to f*ck up.” 

“These are the things that are going to get us to the things we want. If we do to the foundational stuff, we will get to the great productions and awards. Those will be byproducts of our really great work at the foundational, pillar, and communal level: knowing who we are.” 

In theatre, which has always been so proud and/or reliant on the “classics,” how do we progress as a society juggling both an appreciation of the historical works, but keeping our feet pointed forward?

“Well we (at Village Theatre) are mostly a musical theatre company, meaning, most of the shows we put on are from the ‘American musical theatre canon’ which, for the most part, is a very white, Eurocentric basis.” 

“So, let’s say if the lead character in a musical is about a guy who’s biggest problem is the fact that his girlfriend left him in a karaoke bar. You could cast that as anybody, but as soon as you cast that as a young black fella, it becomes almost laughable that that would be his largest problem while living as a black man in America. There are so many layers of obstacles that he has to go through in his daily life, that are so much bigger. And you could have that character played by a black actor, as long as you weave that into the fabric. What happens though, almost always, is that we get shoehorned in, and we just have to play the character as written, and you recognize right off, this is a white character.” 

“When a person, who the part was obviously not written for, lands that part, what do we do? What we don’t do is ignore that it does matter. You can’t go in blindly thinking that it does not matter.”

“There are ways to direct a role in which you can agree upon some investment of that person’s whole self. That they (the actor) can bring so much of who they are, even if it is a classic role, or a role you know intentionally was not written for them. There are things that you don’t have to ignore about who the actor is. 

“Again it is all about the intentionality, and sitting down and being frank, saying: ‘this character was obviously not written for you but now what do we do with this since we think you are the best actor for this role? How do we bring you into this role where you feel seen and heard?’”

“It’s about not putting the responsibility on the artist to ask those questions and bring those ideas in. It is your responsibility as the director, artistic director, producer. Don’t let your silence make it harder on the person who is already on the outskirts or marginalized. If we, as directors, want to take on that leadership role, we have to be willing to take on the responsibility of leading those conversations, not just having them. And do them with much more intention, and much more love and compassion for the people doing it.”

“On that note, what I don’t want to happen is for a white structure to put the Shakespearean actor up as ‘the bar’ for what a great actor is. Why is an August Wilson actor worth any less value than a Shakespearean actor?”

Your perspective and personal experiences are really interesting since you have been on all three sides of a production now as an actor, director, and company leader. Can you tell me a little bit about your personal experience dealing with racism and inequality in the industry as an actor?

“Well I was super fortunate to do back-to-back Broadway shows (Once on This Island in 1990 & Five Guys Named Moe in 1992) and both of the creative teams were diverse, so my naive self thought that was how it was. Once on This Island had an Argentinian director/choreographer, the percussion designer was Brazilian, the costume designer was black, the lighting designer was black, the scenic designer was Filipino, we had two black stage managers, the wardrobe supervisor, and just generally surrounded by women and people of color. And then for Five Guys Named Moe it was the same. Clarke Peters, who created the show for himself, is black, and our director/choreographer, musical supervisor, vocal arranger were all black, and a couple of our stage managers!” 

“Then cut to the 2017 Broadway revival of Once on This Island and you find one person on the creative team – the choreographer – who is black, and that’s it. All of the major bases - white. It was an interesting thing to move out of the hands of a diverse team and into other hands. I never saw it, and I was not judging the art of it all. I was just judging the lack of diversity on the creative team.”

“It was interesting that something in the 90’s that was so diverse became so not diverse. But, sometimes little glimmers of hope happen… And two African artists are going to create the film (of Once on This Island) for Disney+, both from the continent of Africa and both women, so I think that’s really great.” 

“I had also done three different regional versions of Dreamgirls in the 90s, and, for the most part they were not terribly diverse, but there were some. So then, comes the (Broadway) revival from London (2015) and I go to audition, and there are sixteen people behind the table, and not one of them is black, and I’m thinking to myself, ‘what does this even mean at this point in the United States?’ I thought it was very interesting.” 

“It’s really really hard, especially if you are doing tough material, race-wise, and you have to constantly negotiate how you talk about that in front of white leadership. I can’t talk for their experience of Scottsboro Boys (2010) but just looking at that team, that all-white team, and these black boys and men have to talk about what it means to them to do this work that is so wrought with pain, and black pain specifically, and have all of the leadership be white. Especially year in and year out, and you think about the Broadway revival of The Color Purple and the Broadway revival of Ragtime and the Broadway revival of Once on This Island and it keeps happening, and keeps happening. What is going on? Why isn’t it getting better?” 

And the talent is there. 

“The talent is there.” 

I want to end our conversation with one last question, what is something you wish more people knew? 

“I wish people knew more about each other’s experiences; and I don’t mean what happened to me, but like, what does your day, week, month, year look like? To have these conversations, not necessarily with a friend, but I mean how curious are we and how much time do we allow ourselves to do that with each other.” 

Jerry explained to me that as his team and theatre got deeper and deeper in the addressing of establishing their role as an anti-racist, progressive, and inclusive space and workplace, the executives decided that the initially suggested idea of bringing in EDI (Equity, Diversion, and Inclusivity) consultants/experts, would be the most appropriate and responsible choice. Jerry told me about one of the consultants who they hired; a black man, and an incredibly well-versed expert on the realities of race in America. Jerry highlighted that this man’s whole principle and strategy is addressing it all from the lens of culture and not race. Jerry elaborated:  

“If you learn someone’s culture you learn who they are, and it gets very very very difficult to be anti-against them, because you’ve learned something richer about them. You identified something that people don’t take the time to do. They see color and think ‘let’s be black and white friends’ as opposed to: what’s your culture, how did you grow up, what did you eat, what music did you listen to, what movies did you see, what sports did you like or hate?” 

“Go into the culture, and sit down and talk about culture. Don’t start with race. The culture will bring you to the race questions every single time. The race questions automatically puts up walls, where the culture one automatically gives you an ‘in’ because you talk about things that are like-minded, even though you don’t look anything alike. It’s the longer way around it, but it has a better chance of succeeding and also sustaining itself. It’s really easy to put on the ‘honeymoon phase’ version of anti-racism, of ‘let’s get along, and hire the right quota of people and we can look like we are an EDI society,’ But we will not have gotten very far in understanding each other, and understanding each other takes time.” 

“We are finding more and more that everybody wants to have these conversations, but our timing was really sh*tty. It’s not enough. I mean Zoom is great, but we need to be able to touch, and look at body language, and smell each other, and all those things that human contact allows. Hopefully we will come out of this cherishing those things, and wanting to know more about people.”

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By Chris MacDonald

The Chico Club is a collective of reflections, ideas, and dialogues - shared with a purpose. The goal is to open our minds, hearts, and conversations, and embrace that we are all “still learning.”