“The arts community is a fabric, and we are an important part of that fabric — an adventurous part.”
That’s how Rob Richter, the driving force of arts programming at Connecticut College, describes his work for the last quarter century.
During his tenure, Onstage at Connecticut College became a leader in experimental theater and dance in the New London area. Richter also presented a wide range of innovative often interdisciplinary work at the college.
Back in 1998, Richter stepped in to manage the arts program at Connecticut College for a semester.
“So, what is happening next semester?” he recalls asking the college as the fall drew to a close.
Richter was hired.
He went on to rename the program and greatly expand the performance offerings to include contemporary theater, dance, and multi-media production.
“I’ve prided myself on bringing in artists and ensembles who might not be seen anywhere else in CT, or even New England,” says Richter.
And he is a specialist, an O’Neillian, and has written a book on maritime influences on the playwright Eugene O’Neill entitled Eugene O’Neill And “Dat Ole Davil Sea.”
With O’Neill’s summer home, Monte Cristo, in New London, and the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center nearby, Richter says he has been “the New London person” in The Eugene O’Neill Society for many years.
Richter talked in a recent interview with CT Examiner about his time at Conn College and his life leading up to it — among other things, he graduated from the college in 1982 with a major in theater and anthropology, a blend of interests in performance and the social sciences that has been a focus of his work.
“I certainly want to engage the artists on campus, but they are already sold on the arts. I want to bring others into the mix.”
Richter retires at the end of the summer, with a farewell reception at the President’s House in late August.
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CTEx: Congratulations on your retirement and achievements! How is it feeling?
RR: A little bit surreal. I’ve been here 27 years — that’s a long time. But I’m excited to move onto other things. Mostly personal projects. I’m proud of what I’ve done. There’s a mix of feelings. It’s bittersweet.
CTEx: How did you first experience theater?
RR: Part of my upbringing was in Westchester County, north of New York City. This was skewed a bit by my family living in Kenya for two years. My first schooling was in Nairobi. But one of my clearest memories was seeing the original Broadway production of Jesus Christ Superstar in New York City. It is a rock opera and big spectacle, at least for the time. But I was so taken by the music and the performances and the setting. I will never forget the resurrection scene, when Jesus is physically rising up above the stage, and his robe keeps extending, taking up the entire stage. Now I think back — did it really do that? I don’t know. But it seemed like it did.
Another thing that was really influential. When I was in the 9th grade — we had moved around quite a bit as a kid, and I was shy — but I was selected for a program in African art, in part because of my experience in Kenya. I connected with the woman who was teaching the program, Catherine James, or Catti. She lived in my town. So, I eventually started working with Catti. She was a visual artist and costume designer. There was a choreographer and company, Charles Moore Dance Theatre. He specialized in recreating African dance, and Catti did all the costumes. We would get these original African masks into the studio, and we’d research how we could create costumes to go with them. We’d go out into the yard and wear the masks and move and figure them out. She exposed me to so many different things in visual and performing arts world. We were an odd pair, she was an African American woman and I was a white
teenage boy. We would go to gallery openings and meetings, and she would introduce me as her son.
I think of Catti often. I think of Charles Moore often — although I’m not sure I ever actually met him. But they were two people who were really significant in giving me early opportunities. Because I was very shy. To stand up in a group people and say something, I would almost be physically ill. But I could move with that mask on.
CTEx: How did your research in Eugene O’Neill develop?
RR: I was at Connecticut College in the class of 1982. I was exposed to some of O’Neill’s plays in high school that I’d seen on my own. My father, a TV producer and journalist, was also a fan of Eugene O’Neill. So when I went to college and studied theater, he gave me a copy of O’Neill’s Seven Plays of the Sea. I read those then. I have no recollection of knowing O’Neill spent his summers in New London. Maybe I did, but my research afterwards eclipsed it.
So I graduated, moved to New York, pounded the pavement, worked as a production coordinator for PBS, then came back to New London to work with small theater company as an actor. I toured for two years. That company went under, and I started working at Mystic Seaport. I was asked if I wanted to direct some of O’Neill’s sea plays there. I said, “Sure, I’d love to.” So I went back to my father’s copy of the sea plays, and now I read them with a maritime history background. And what I thought was, “This guy knows what he’s writing about.” O’Neill spent two years on ships early in his life. What actors might think is jargon or throw-away names is actually hugely significant in maritime world. We did Bound East for Cardiff on the Charles W. Morgan, and we did Long Voyage Home in the tavern at the Seaport. Later, in my master’s at Wesleyan, my thesis was the maritime influences of O’Neill. I knew I was in a unique position — I understood both theater and maritime world. No one else had a foot in both those areas. Everyone recognized how important the sea was to O’Neill— he wrote 20 plays that dealt with sailors and the sea — but no one knew the sea.
CTEx: When you attended Connecticut College, what did you major in?
RR: Theater and anthropology. And it certainly has influenced my career throughout — that cross-disciplinary approach to things. Even in my book, I see myself as a social historian more than a literature person, putting O’Neill in his cultural context. That has influenced my career here at the college, in the types of artists that I choose to bring; I am trying to maintain a curricular connection. Much more interesting to bring in an artist or an ensemble that can cross a disciplinary boundary.
For example, in the upcoming season, there’s a theater group from Ireland presenting Lost Lear, which is their adaptation of King Lear told through mind and eyes of a retired actress who has Alzheimer’s. The way her caretakers and family communicate with her is through the play. And in presenting it, we are collaborating with the neuroscience program at Conn, and the Alzheimer’s Association.
CTEx: Connecticut College has such a dance history — all the summers of the American Dance Festival there. How have you approached that?
RR: When I came here as a student in ’78, ADF’s last season was the year before, so I was aware of ADF. When I came here to work and became a presenter, many people talked about history and legacy. Now, we can’t just sit on our legacy. But I was aware, when I would bring in the next generation of choreographers, that they were aware of the legacy. I remember sitting with choreographer David Parsons in the house. He said, “This is where I first saw Martha Graham.” Palmer Auditorium has an aura of history and heritage in the dance world. And as we were approaching the college’s centennial, I started to look at some of those companies: Graham, Limon, Paul Taylor companies, and I started to add those companies to the series, to acknowledge that history.
When I taught a Eugene O’Neill seminar here at Conn, I would show videos of some plays. Usually I’d show a theater piece. But the Limon Dance Company did a dance adaptation of O’Neill’s Emperor Jones, so I would show that instead. And some of the students would say, “Wait a minute, is that Palmer Stage?” Yes — this grainy black and white film of them dancing on Palmer.
CTEx: What are some memorable experiences for you, bringing an artist or a production to campus?
RR: I went to the Association of Performing Arts Professionals Conference, and Moises Kaufman was doing a presentation on Laramie Project Epilogue: Ten Years Later — a show based on where are we now [regarding Matthew Shephard’s murder in 1998 in Laramie, Wyoming]. Kaufman was looking for venues to present readings at the same time — simultaneous readings at 100 venues. I went up to him afterwards and said, “Okay we’re in!” He said, “Don’t you have to ask anyone back at the college?” I said “No, this is important to do.” We did a stage reading of the play with students, faculty and staff. But leading up to it, I received threats from Fred Phelps Church. I remember sitting in my office and receiving the threats. I just cried. I called Campus Safety, they alerted the New London Police Department, who said, “Yes we know already, we’ve been monitoring it.” The students actually rallied before it. Nothing materialized, but we had to restrict access to the performance. A couple years later for the college’s centennial, one student wrote that the most meaningful experience on campus for her was when students rallied around that performance.
Here’s another. Anne Bogart and SITI Company presented The Trojan Woman as a site-specific piece at the Los Angeles Getty Museum, but we were going to be first time they did it on a proscenium stage — and they really needed our performance before they did it at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.
Then, Superstorm Sandy hit. NYC lost power. SITI was supposed to be here for 4-5 days. I was in my car charging my cell phone talking to SITI’s manager while she was in her car charging her phone. We had power back before them. They were able to get a truck, load their set, and get here — and we pulled it off. It was an amazing performance. I remember going to the performance at BAM, and at the reception afterwards, BAM’s artistic director said, “If it hadn’t been for you, this wouldn’t have happened.” We are a little tiny presenter, but with a big impact.