Magic, onstage and off
Departing leader Susie Medak reflects on momentous 32-year run at Berkeley Rep
When Susie Medak gave a preshow opening-night speech for “Wintertime” at Berkeley Repertory Theatre in November, she had a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. She was talking about COVID protocols, but she could make you feel as if it were you and her against the world, in cahoots together on some joyous secret.
That’s part of the galvanizing magic of Medak, who announced on Tuesday, Jan. 11, that she is stepping down in August from her role as managing director, overseeing Berkeley Rep’s business side. She might be small in stature with an endearing accent of her native Chicago, but she approaches her role with the swagger of a politician and the psychological acuity and emotional power of an artist. I caught up with her to glean some insights from her rock star 32-year tenure. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: What felt right about stepping down now?
A: I keep jokingly and non-jokingly saying, “It might be long past the right time!”
I knew before the pandemic that I was coming to the end of my career. During the pandemic, I was able to test out what it feels like not to go to theater every day.
Q: What did you learn from that?
A: Part of what I learned is, what is the thing that I’ve loved? I’ve always felt when I walk into the rehearsal hall, people automatically assume something’s wrong. So I generally would wait till we got to tech rehearsals, when my presence meant something different, and I would plop myself down, house right, row H, and just enjoy being among my people and watching it unfold. I will miss that.
The other thing I realized was that I love what happens when you have an audience meeting artists halfway.
I thought about all the times I’ve stepped into the theater during a show and just leaned against the column on door one here. That’s my home in the theater. From there I could watch the audience watching the actors. I love that.
The other thing that I love, that I’m going to miss, is that thing that happens when you walk through the staff-only door, because I think there’s magic in front of the stage every single day, but I also adore the magic that’s behind that door. There’s something about always being able to walk between those two worlds that has been such a privilege.
During the pandemic, I was able to discover that I will feel nostalgic about it, but life will go on.
Q: How do you think the theater landscape has changed?
A: The challenges that my generation had — we were making something that didn’t exist: these nonprofit organizations that were about sustaining art over a longer period of time, creating institutions that could support artists with different visions over a period of time, creating entities that could employ people working in this field over a period of time.
We were also challenged with creating audiences for work that was much more complex in its diversity. We had to build funding sources for that.
We were doing that during a period of economic expansion, when more people were collegeeducated than had ever been college-educated before, during a period of enormous optimism. There was civic and federal leadership that placed value on us — the universities were in lockstep with that, the school districts were in lockstep with that. They were offering arts education!
Q: And now?
A: The huge question that nobody knows the answer to is: Will these next generations follow the pattern of their parents and eventually become theatergoers? What we do know is that the three generations that have come before them have often waited until their children are at least midway grown. As long as I’ve been in this business — I was a marketing director when I was 23 — we were so worried that our audience was going to die out. In 1976! Here I am in 2022, and we’re having the same conversation.
The other thing that is challenging about these younger generations is they have not had the arts education in schools that would naturally lead them here. The challenge is to get people in the doors the first time.
Up until this point, our generation felt our job was to find an audience for the work. What we found was an audience that was generally well-educated and had middle-class aspirations.
However, the social contract has changed. It’s placed a different set of demands on all of us. Not only are we now charged with seeking that audience for the work we want to do, but we also as a nonprofit have an obligation to engage, in a meaningful, nontransactional way, with people who may not have any interest in the theater at all. Finding a way to
do that and not have mission creep but have very purposeful mission change is a very big challenge.
Q: Tell me about the Susie Medak real estate empire — growing Berkeley Rep from one building to five?
A: Sometimes people go, “You don’t run a theater; you’re just a real estate mogul.” But everything we’ve done architecturally has been in service either of audiences or artists or students. We do not have an edifice complex! But I will say that in the Bay Area, if you didn’t think about real estate, you couldn’t survive.
Q: You and former artistic director Tony Taccone worked together for decades with great success. Was there a secret sauce to that partnership?
A: We shared values. We were able to be generous and forgiving with each other. It’s just like a marriage. We could argue with each other and walk away and put it aside. We could misbehave with each other and know we were going to come back together because we had this shared commitment to this institution. And neither of us was insecure.
Q: You’ve worked with five Berkeley mayors. Do you have more political longevity in the city of Berkeley than actual elected officials?
A: When there was a new president of the community college, I always used to make a point of meeting them. When there was a new president of the YMCA, a new superintendent of schools, when there was a new mayor, new city council members, a new fire chief, a new police chief, I’d meet them. This is what it is to be civically engaged, in my book. We used to host the Fire
Department and the Police Department graduations in our buildings. I wanted them to know us, and I wanted them to associate this place with something important in their lives. Also that meant that they really knew our buildings well!
Q: What does it take to ship so many shows — “American Idiot,” “Ain’t Too Proud” and now, hopefully, “Swept Away” — to Broadway?
A: It takes great commercial partners. You have to feel like there will be mutual respect. The first conversation I ever have with commercial partners goes like this: My son is adopted. His birth mother was a dear friend of mine. She called me up one day and said, “I’m pregnant. I’m certain. I’ve always thought it would be nice if you and Greg would raise my child.” We made a deal, and we said, “While he is in vitro, it is entirely your responsibility, but we will be fascinated by every single thing that goes on in your pregnancy. Once he is born, he will be our responsibility, and we know that no one will be as interested in his growth and development as much as you will be.”
That’s the way I think of co-productions. When we make decisions, we have to make decisions with our partners in mind, and we have to be willing to be generous in that way. There’s a courtesy with that, and there’s a benefit with that: You can never have enough people who love a child; you can never have enough people who love a production.