The Road Back: A Trip Through Time

Sometimes a new perspective hides in a pile of old paper. Managing Director Sara Young takes a look through APT's history in the latest edition of The Road Back.

In 2018 (or thereabouts), we began a partnership with the Wisconsin Historical Society’s Center for Film and Theater Research to move APT’s archives into their care. Over forty years of APT history in the form of programs, flyers, posters and other ephemera were accumulating and gathering dust on a set of shelves next to costume storage. We were quickly running out of space, and I could practically feel the old newspaper clippings yellowing and breaking down.

We turned over dozens of boxes: first brochures and other promotional pieces, then copies of production photos. We had made progress, but organizing archives is a task that tends to fall to the bottom of the list. It’s not urgent, and those boxes will just sit contentedly waiting while we deal with more pressing matters. But a few months ago, I got tired of seeing it on my “to do” list and determined I had to finally complete this undertaking. It was time to skim through 45 years of news clippings, memos and correspondence.

I know quite a bit about APT history; my first job here was as the project manager for The Book of Lore, which APT published for its 25th anniversary. So, I’m familiar with stories of the early days – the precarious financial picture and rustic facilities (read: porta-potties and seats that stain your clothing). And I’ve always been grateful to the founders, to the original board and staff members, and especially to the APT audience who trekked to our woods in those early years. But I was not prepared for the surge I felt as I explored those archives! I’ve been at APT for more than 20 years, and I suddenly have a new perspective, and a new bond with APT’s history.

I read harrowing news accounts of the theater’s demise, opinion pieces about how APT didn’t have a chance and should give it up. I pored over memos detailing unpaid bills that were months or years overdue, and reports counseling how to get the theater back on track. It was bleak.

But then I also read about so many people who stuck their necks out again and again to keep APT going: Board members offered interest-free loans and then forgave them when it was obvious they couldn’t be paid. Business after business turned unpaid invoices into in-kind donations. Artists and staff skipped their paychecks for weeks at a time, not knowing if they would ever be paid.

And the audience! After APT closed in 1985, there was a heroic and successful grassroots effort to re-open it. No fundraiser was too small or insignificant. There were fish boils, a murder mystery dinner, and my personal favorite, a haircut-a-thon. Five dollars from each cut benefitted APT.

I also read about the long road to recovery and then stability. Little by little, debts were repaid, audiences grew, and more artists found a home here, where they could concentrate on practicing their craft. It wasn’t easy or glamorous, and there was a lot of sacrifice in those years as well – “making a quarter out of a nickel” as Brenda DeVita would say. Again through those years, the audience was always there, always loyal, celebrating the progress as the theater reached its teens and twenties.

I was gobsmacked. I knew all this in broad terms, but something about reading the details from the original source – those yellowing newspapers and dog-eared memos – brought it home. I have a new appreciation of how close APT was to dying in its infancy, how this theater in the woods exists against so many odds.

I’m bursting with gratitude for all who came before me, who worked so hard and sacrificed so hundreds of thousands of people could ascend our Hill and see a play under the stars. And so thousands of artists and staff could work here. In my case, do my life’s work here. My trip through the archives has been humbling, but it has also been galvanizing. I won’t forget what it’s taken for this organization to endure for 45 years, and I’ll do my damndest to care for it during my little piece of its history.

P.S. Thanks to those who helped get this massive project across the finish line, including Paula Gaieck, Jenny Christensen, Mark Baker, and a number of APT staff.