Barbara Solomon,
“the Mayor of Orange Avenue,” was remembered as a fierce supporter of the arts as Orlando’s theater community mourned the passing of one of its most colorful characters.
Tributes to “the Mayor of Orange Avenue” lit up social media this week as Orlando’s theater community mourned the passing of one of its most colorful characters.
Barbara Solomon, who for years owned the Oldies But Goodies antiques shop on Orange Avenue, died Monday of cancer. A fierce supporter of the arts, her distinctive bullhorn of a voice, with its “New Yawk” rasp, could be heard ringing through a theater lobby, bellowing down Orange Avenue or calling hello across Loch Haven Park at the annual Orlando Fringe Festival.
Her “Mayor of Orange Avenue” nickname came from the title of a 2009 Fringe show by Al Pergande in which she featured.
“Barbara always spoke her mind, often loud enough so everyone within a mile could hear,” wrote Michael Marinaccio, the Fringe’s producing artistic director, on Facebook. “But she had a kind and generous heart, which was something that wasn’t always obvious to those who couldn’t see past her abrasive exterior.”
That generous heart was often shown to theater artists. Solomon, a onetime board member of Playwrights’ Round Table, produced shows at the Fringe — but through her antiques connection provided all manner of period costumes and props to productions around Central Florida.
Producer Beth Marshall recalled Solomon’s help on shows such as “Crimes of The Heart,” “The 1934 Project” and “A Christmas Carol.” This summer, Solomon assisted on the Valencia College production of “My Dear Watson,” a Victorian-era Sherlock Holmes musical.
“She was always kind and rented props for almost nothing,” wrote actor-director Frank Siano. “If she had what you were looking for at home, she would bring it in the next day. I can only imagine how much work that took because her store was packed from floor to ceiling.”
After she closed the store, Solomon bought and sold antiques at festivals, shows and each year in an eye-catching tent at the Orlando Fringe.
Beyond professional arrangements, Solomon was known for taking people — especially performers — under her wing.
“You were among the first to welcome this outsider into the Orlando theater scene eight years ago and you continued to do so ever since,” wrote actor John Reid Adams in his online tribute. “Thanks for everything.”
Another actor remembered a time when he was struggling financially — and Solomon offered him new sheets for his son’s bed.
“She did take care of everybody… in the Barbara way,” said longtime friend Jill Morgan of Orlando.
Usually spotted in a prominent seat, Solomon wrote about theater for the Park Press, a community newspaper in Winter Park. Once she became a fan, she was a fan for life.
“The first time I met her was in a talkback for “Last Days of Judas Iscariot,” remembered actor Sarah-Lee Dobbs. “She was loud and opinionated and said to me, ‘I don’t know you, but you’re brilliant.’ After that she pretty much saw me in everything I did (usually front row).”
Actor Sara Jones put it this way: “She always sat in the front and cheered the loudest.”
Born in Brooklyn, Solomon had a varied career. She and her husband, who predeceased
her more than a decade ago, started antiquing in New York, where she taught theater. They later came to Florida, and she taught high-school chemistry, both in South Florida and then later Apopka. When one of her two daughters went to college, Solomon took a second job at Publix to help with family expenses, Morgan said.
The two became friends when Morgan walked into her Orange Avenue store and “spent half the day there. It was a bit of a vortex … you never knew when you were going to get out.”
Solomon’s gift of gab was matched by the bluntness of what she might say.
“She was a force of nature, she had absolutely no filter,” wrote Steve Schneider, who parodied her in a 2015 Fringe Festival show he wrote. But Schneider was quick to point out that her sharp tongue was paired with a loyal heart.
“If you knew her and fell on tough times personally,” he wrote, “you knew what it was to have a true and loyal defender.”
The theater community will hold a public celebration of Solomon’s life this fall, said John DiDonna, who directed “My Dear Watson.”
Actor Darby Ballard spoke for many Facebook commenters when she summed up Solomon’s memorable spirit: “She had a huge personality and a bigger heart.”