MEMORIES OF JEUNE LUNE AT 25

"What is your favorite Jeune Lune memory, moment, production and/or character?"

In commemoration of Theatre de la Jeune Lune's 25th anniversary season, we asked the artistic directors, staff, board, and members of the community for their favorite Jeune Lune memory, moment, production, and/or character?" Here's what they had to say. If you'd like to add your own, please email us at: info@jeunelune.org

Barbra Berlovitz, artistic director, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: "So many things come to mind, I can't decide if I should pick the funny ones, like the day the set fell down, the day of the car accident, or being in the South of France on tour, sleeping on mattresses in the French countryside, where the flies were so bad. There's been incredible moments, like when we were looking for a space and seeing out our window a `For Sale' sign on the same building that Dominique and I saw when we were first working together. Getting the building was a major thing, because it felt like an affirmation from the community; I felt like the entire community was saying, `Here is a place where you can do your work.' That was pretty wonderful."

Charlie Zelle, past board president and board members from the 70s, 80s and 90s, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: "I remember their energy, enthusiasm and humor. They threw the best parties, were the best dancers and enjoyed the best food. Mostly, I remember their magic in transforming a stage, a courtyard or a concert hall into a spine-tingling experience with their endless creative performances."

R.T. Rybak, Minneapolis mayor: "I have so many. One of my first dates with my wife was to Yang Zen Frogs. About two minutes into the performance, she was laughing hard enough, and I was laughing hard enough, that the bleachers were shaking. I knew somebody who would find that as funny as I did, was somebody I could fall in love with.

"I've always said one of my favorite productions is the relatively obscure The Kitchen, which they did in Butler Square, and every time I go out to eat and see the kitchen door swing open, where the plates are flying around, and the dysfunction between the cooks and the waiters and all, I think of it. The second production I saw at Jeune Lune was 1929, which was an intensely wonderful play, and I remember at one point Bob Rosen was inside a garbage can, and the play went on, and about 15 minutes later I realized he was still in there-the single best acting performance I've seen."

"Over the years, they've done more dramatic and ambitious pieces, and I often loved when their reach exceeded their grasp, because you could see they were stretching. People mutter, `That wasn't a Jeune Lune piece,' or, `They shouldn't have tried that,' but I saw it like an adolescent who could never be great if they didn't try. Some of those supposedly slightly overlong and overwrought productions were key to the depth they have today, and it's been so fun to see their work evolve over the years."

Leslie Ball, singer/songwriter/founder, Balls cabaret: "I cannot for the life of me pull out a favorite moment; every performance piles up on the earlier one into this single lovely ever-shifting kaleidoscope. I can say this: Steve Epp is a brilliant actor. Best in show, without fail. Every time I see Steve Epp perform, I know I am in the presence of a master. His acting is impeccable. His work has this fierce intelligence. Even more important, there is such an authentic soulful-ness to everything I've seen him do. (And he's still so genuinely humble in the real world!) He's one of the long list of local talents that make my heart swell up with gratitude."

Steve Epp, artistic director, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: "There's a ton of them. It's so dang hard. There's all the things that have gone wrong, like during The Three Musketeers, when we had a boat on a suspension system with all these weights and it snapped and literally catapulted four of us out of the boat. I ended up on the bottom, I was in the middle of this monologue, and I just kept talking. Yang Zen Frogs was created on literally nothing in January in this warehouse space. It was all improv, and we'd run from the rehearsal area and go back to where all the costumes were, and we were so cold, we'd just grab a costume, any costume, and get out of there and do something to keep warm. During The Kitchen in 1998 when we redid it, cell phones were first getting to be a problem, and this woman in the audience got up and left with her cell phone and her clicking high heels and I chased her into the women's restroom and railed her. She was shocked: Here was this guy she'd just seen on stage, railing at her. But then there's the beautiful things. The night we opened the building to a live audience for the first time was a phenomenal moment. We were in the dressing room getting our make-up on, and they were still doing something to the seating-they were literally down to curtain time working on the theater."

Casey Stangl, director and co-founder, Eye Of The Storm Theatre: "I think the show that stands out was Cosi Fan Tutte a couple of years ago. Dominique boldly decided to cut all the recititaves, which completely liberated the piece from some of the dubious comedy that tends to make it a `proper' opera. Of course, this was sacrilege to purists, but it heightened the dramatic action and allowed the music-some of Mozart's most deeply felt-a greater range of feeling. The Baldwin sisters were magnificent and the set, a country estate surrounded by sand bags, was blow away. At the end the water seeps in and metaphorically drowns the characters in their webs of lies. Cool stuff."

David Hawley, staff writer and former theater critic, St. Paul Pioneer Press: "I remember the first show I saw them do -- Cirque de Moliere -- which they put up in the third-floor black box at the Hennepin Center for the Arts. This was probably about 1980 or thereabouts. It was an unusual performance, because the theater was almost empty, though all the critics were there. It was a chaotic show; it was clear that this troupe was very special, very individualistic and quite unlike anything in the Twin Cities. Mike Steele, then the critic for the Tribune, and I happened to walk out together and we were both enthusiastic and excited about the performance, but couldn't say much specifically because we both had to go and write our respective reviews. It's not all that often that you bounce out of theater, especially when you're there three or four nights a week. Anyway, as we walked toward our cars in the lot behind the Hennepin Center, we bumped into another critic who jeered, "Boy was that awful!" It made my day. Jeune Lune managed to be that way most of the time -- delighting some, alienating others. That's art."

Ben Trudeau assistant technical director, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: "Growing up in suburban Kansas, I fell in love with theatre, or at least I thought I had. I knew I loved the possibilities and immediacy of theatre, but had never seen a production that I liked. In 1991, my parents and I were in the Twin Cities home shopping for our upcoming move. A family friend took us out to see Puntila and his Chauffeur Matti at the Southern Theatre. That night, at the age of 15, I found the theatre that I knew could be. Since then I've looked forward to each new production and each new possibility."

Robert Rosen, artistic director, Theater de la Jeune Lune: "Getting the building was so great, and the first show in the new building, Children of Paradise, was another milestone. But the thing I remember most is our very first show. It was a piece about Moliere, The Cirque de Moliere. It was about Moliere's life, so the show itself included pieces that we put together about his life as an artist, and him forming a company and traveling France. We chose to do that because it typified what we were trying to do ourselves; it included scenes from his shows, we had 50 masks, we each played something like 15 characters, we were really on the fly. We did it on stages outdoors, in an old chateau, everywhere. We did that show for two or three years. We had a truck, we played in the rain, with dogs and drunks, and our first night out we got in a traffic accident. It was very much the roots and guts of what the company is all about. When we got the building, we tried to incorporate our present with that beginning, so that we would never lose the essence of it."

Judith Lewis, staff writer, L.A. Weekly, and former theater critic, City Pages: "Whenever I saw a Jeune Lune production in the '80s, I'd develop a feverish crush on whoever was in the lead role at the time-Christopher Bayes after Red Noses, Felicity Jones after Romeo and Juliet. I remember talking to Steven Epp on the phone when I was writing about Seven Dwarfs for City Pages and being too nervous to speak. By the time the company got around to mounting a production of Edmund Rostand's Cyrano in 1989, I'd seen so many of their shows that I'd cycled through the whole company. And yet the spectacle had lost none of its magic: In Dominique Serrand's eponymous proboscis-challenged character I found a man to laugh with, fall for, feel for deeply across all cultural and gender barriers. I bawled my eyes out in the end, not simply for the pathos of a doomed man, but at the sheer wonder that, jaded 29-year-old that I was, what happens on stage could still move me to tears."

Kevin Kling, playwright/storyteller: "We were working on The 7 Dwarfs. I had created the piece with the company through improvs and then went away to the Sundance Institute to workshop the script. When I returned I thought I had it nailed. My job now would be to sit back and watch these brilliant actors say my words. We met at a restaurant called Matin in downtown Minneapolis. The cast was very upbeat, they had read the script and had actually liked the first scene. The rest of the play was unusable‚ I believe the word was. What? There was nothing wrong with the script. I was told to calm down and cheer up, some of it could be used. This is the play, I assured them. An argument ensued and escalated into shouting and fist-pounding and manifestos and threats. God it felt good. Coming from the Midwest it generally took a year of anger to get me into an argument and another two years to recover. This was what the rest of the world called passion‚ and I liked it. At the end of the dispute I looked around at the restaurant because I knew I would not be welcomed there again. I left laughing with the company. This was the first of many meals together and I've enjoyed every one."

Dan Wilson, musician and band member, Trip Shakespeare and Semisonic: "I vividly remember seeing Theatre de la Jeune Lune for the first time: The show was Yang Zen Frogs-probably the perfect introduction to the amazing imagination in action of the company. It was one of those moments where you can't believe this kind of vision and talent is right here under your nose. It was the first time I had stepped outside the Guthrie/Children's Theater domain that I'd grown up with, and I could feel a change in my perception of my own city. Now the various artiste-types that I might see at rock shows or hanging at the New French Bar might actually be brilliant. Maybe because of the characters in the show, I also started to suspect the same of the waiters and waitresses at various places downtown. I know Jeune Lune's weird and comical vision influenced the theatricality of the band I was in at the time, Trip Shakespeare. At least personally, I took a kind of permission from the troupe when dreaming up visions for our band."

Sonya Berlovitz, costume designer: "I remember staying up all night in the Southern Theatre sewing costumes for N'Yawk N'Yawk Who's There? …Getting to say the line "two chickens" as waitress Daphne in the first production of The Kitchen. Being a part of the documentary film by Miroslav Janek about the making of the Commedia dell'arte production Heroes. …Having the company members of Theatre de la Jeune Lune perform in my fashion show in 2001 in the Jeune Lune lobby."

Richard Schooley, current board chair, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: I was scanning the ads in the Variety section of the Star Tribune when I noticed that a theater company was doing a production of Germinal. Germinal? It was one of my favorite books, but I couldn't imagine how any company could put that particular epic on stage. I went to the theater that night with a bit of skepticism and curiosity. I left inspired and awed. I had, apparently, never truly seen theater before seeing Jeune Lune. In the ten years since seeing that first production, directed by Barbra Berlovitz, there have been many moments that I will never forget - how we sat stunned in silence and darkness at the end of Hamlet on opening night before erupting in thunderous applause, how the drop of a hat by Bob Rosen transformed The Golem into magic, and the shear visionary leap of Dominique Serrand's direction of Figaro. But for me, there is one moment that represents the magic that I have come to expect in Jeune Lune's artistry. It was in The Hunchback, with the audience seated on three sides of the stage and Dominique as Quasimodo standing in anguish high up on a platform that was Notre Dame. In a moment that created a gasp from the audience, he leapt high into the air and came down gripping a rope that no one had seen and the bells of Notre Dame rang out. Over and over, his body was pulled up and down until the entire theatre was filled with deafening sound. To that point, I had been merely watching the production. But in that moment, I was pulled into it.

Vincent Gracieux, artistic director, Theatre de la Jeune Lune: The first show, on the coast of France: the wind blowing, a big arch falling, people standing up in the opening going on with their text… Minneapolis: bringing the arch through a window on the second floor lifted up with ropes from the sidewalk, people watching, two Italian clowns on tour watching and laughing, laughing ... Ubu for President: we got the text two weeks before opening, notes everywhere, pieces of text in the hat, on the sleeves... Opening of the building: first show, 7:50pm , workmen welding on the audience staircase at the very last minute... Children of Paradise: a British actor is the voice on the radio, reading his text, silence for a long time and suddenly we hear in the radio "I can't see," not enough light."

Ann Reed, singer/songwriter: "My favorite was just this past season-Carmen. It was a beautiful, intense production. I felt absolutely embraced by the singing. When Bradley Greenwald and Christine Baldwin sing, you believe there is a God.

Craig Wright, playwright and staff writer for HBO's Six Feet Under: "When I first moved to the Twin Cities at the age of 19, I went to see Circus, and was completely blown away. I'll never forget Dominique Serrand following the sound of a trombone around the mostly bare stage, pushing his broom and sniffing for elephant droppings he couldn't seem to locate. The end of Exit The King, when Dominique raised his arm in defiance as he was wheeled upstage into oblivion, was also a tremendous moment. Every time I went to a Jeune Lune production, I, a young writer with mostly literary heroes, was reminded all over again that theater has to be, before anything else, a `good show'-a spectacle."

Michael Koerner, composer: "My first performance of "Cirque de Moliere" was at the Frieberg TheatreFestival in Frieberg, Germany back when I was still an actor, and the Company was still splitting time between Paris and Minneapolis. I had been coached endlessly on performing the show IN FRENCH and understood NOTHING of what I was saying. I tried to learn some pretty scary (for me) acrobatics like standing on Bob Rosen's shoulders and tumbling off into a summersault (I was VERY young)! I also had learned some complicated choreography.

By the end of the first act I had pretty much failed at everything, including completely MISSING one entrance where I was to catch some crepes being thrown to me by another actor holding a small frying pan. . .

So, at intermission I was standing back stage trying to remember what country I was in, and Barbra Berlovitz runs up to me with panic in her eyes and says, "Okay, you can do this. Now, just THINK!"

While performing an early production, Cirque de Moliere with TJL at a theatre festival in Freiberg, Germany a sudden morning downpour soaked the outdoor stage area including all the lighting equipment. The organizers of the festival were concerned the wet equipment would pose an electrical hazard and asked the Company had to cancel the production. During the afternoon, Vincent, Bob and Dominique scoured the hardware stores and markets of Freiberg and returned with dozens of patio torches, those big wax torches used during the summer months for bar-b-ques here in the states. After nailing the torches to the front of the stage platform and filling several trays with about 100 votive candles the show was performed as scheduled with the torches illuminating the stage. The trays of votives were used as "key" lighting for some of the more intimate scenes, and actors who weren't busy onstage ran out front and replaced the burned out torches. Between the glow of the torch flames, the scent of the blooming linden trees filling the courtyard we were performing in and the enthusiastic crowd, it was one of the most beautiful and memorable performances of my life!

The best memories I have of my time at Jeune Lune were the birthday parties we had in and around Paris when the company split time between Minneapolis and Paris. Dominique's birthday that summer included a gourmet meal cooked by us company members, and different items of clothing as birthday gifts. After dinner Dom would unwrap each present, disappear into the bathroom and emerge to model each piece. From boxers to shoes and everything in between, by the end of the evening he was finally fully clothed. I seem to remember that not everything fit, however!

Bob's birthday included good food (of course!) and a treasure hunt at a chateau. We had Bob going into the chapel, into the woods and rowing across the river to an island where he found a fishing pole! My favorite was the bottle of cognac on a tray surrounded by eight glasses, one for each company member at the time. That treasure was found on a stump in the woods outside of the chateau.

The summer of 1980 for my birthday the company locked me in the music room at Dominique's parent's houaw in Paris. I kept getting admonished to "practice, practice, practice" on Madame and Monsieur Serrand's beautiful piano. I remember playing every French impressionist piece I knew while the breeze and the sound of children playing outside blew in from the open floor to ceiling windows overlooking the boulevard. After about an hour I became aware of incredible cooking smells coming from the nearby kitchen. After about ANOTHER HOUR I was released from my practice "cell" and found a full rack of lamb, fresh asparagus, new potatoes, cheeses, bread, and, although I don't have a clear memory of it after MANY glasses of wine, something chocolate for dessert. After dinner we really and truly rolled up the rug and danced the afternoon and evening away. That is until we had to leave for the theatre. We still had a performance of the musical 1929 to perform that evening!!"

Kevyn Burger, radio personality, FM107: "My favorite and most memorable evening at Jeune Lune was late last winter. In honor of my son's 17th birthday, we went to see Circus Of Tales. It's not always easy for me to find a show that all of my children will equally appreciate (I have two teenagers and a kindergartner). This play, though, was equally magical, captivating, fanciful, and hilarious for each of us. I was especially gratified that my son chose to see it again with his set of friends-and using his own money. It was his first chance to experience the joy of passing on the joy of a great theatrical experience."

Bradley Greenwald, performer: We were performing Mozart's The Impresario with the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra at the Ordway. This silly little one-acter about two sopranos fighting over a juicy role in a stage production was re-imagined as a commercial shoot, with the orchestra players as the studio band, and Hugh Wolff as the ego-driven conductor (he entered eating a slice of pizza).

I was in the lobby waiting for my entrance as an Ordway usher, when a couple left the theater mid-performance. The woman was slumped against the man's shoulder, in great distress. I figured she had taken ill. As they passed me, I heard her whimper, "What have they done? It's disgusting! It's so disgusting!" "It's alright, dear," said her companion as he opened the door and they left.

Considering Mozart's penchant for the silly and the irreverent, it was proof of a job well done.

Jim Walsh, columnist, City Pages: "When I was working at D.B. Kaplan's delicatessen in Butler Square in 1981, Vincent came and hung with me and the rest of the kitchen staff for a morning. I was a prep and line cook, and I was impressed with how this artist stood back and observed the goings-ons, in an almost writerly or journalistic fashion. He asked very few questions, instead choosing to take in the rituals of soup making, meat-and -cheese-slicing, sandwich-making, and the crazed lunch-rush camaraderie interaction between the cooks. Some of those mannerisms and interactions showed up in my still-fave-to-this-day production of The Kitchen."

Nathan Keepers, performer: During my third show at Jeune Lune, The Government Inspector, I had the joy and slight terror of being put in a sort of "town trio" with Luverne Seifert and Vincent Gracieux. We were the three heads of committees in the town. Now, I say slight terror because it was only my third show, I had just graduated high school the spring before and I was supposed to be funny with these two. Well, in retrospect, that was the first big lesson I learned from the Company. I wasn't funny. You can't try to be funny. Now, to the memory: the three of us were on stage towards the end of the show one night. At this point in the show there was some tension between the three of us and we were in this close sort of huddle position. Each night Luverne would push me into Vinny, and as the run went on he would push harder. It got to the point where Vinny was getting a little annoyed. Now, at the end of this moment each night Vinny would slap me. I was aware every night and prepared. Well, this particular night, Luverne and I were a little frisky, and Luverne was really pushing me hard. Vinny didn't like this so much. Luverne was giggling softly behind me and Vinny was grunting, angrily, in front of me. It was a dangerous sandwich. When the moment came for the slap, Vinny turned around with a murderous look in his eyes, cocked his arm back and struck me harder than I had ever been struck before. Luverne lost it. I was in a bit of shock, but I saw Luverne laughing and I couldn't deal with it. We were like little kids. After the show Sarah Agnew told me she heard the slap off stage. I went to Vinny and said "You slapped me kind of hard" and he said " Don't poosh." That was the end of that. I should mention that Luverne had full knowledge the whole time that Vinny hates being pushed, anytime, stage or not. So, I learned a lot in that show: you can't try to be funny, I found out how the company plays on stage and, most important, don't push Vinny... ever."

Another memory: I remember at one point early on looking in the mirror and noticing that my hair was receding. I mean, I had lost quite a bit for my age. So I was a little self-conscious. I was in rehearsal soon after that and we were standing around waiting for something. There was a big table on stage that Steve Epp was sitting on. He looked down at me and said very bluntly (as only Steve can do), " Are you loosing your hair?" I turned to him and said "Yes. And it's your fault. It's this damn Theatre's fault." Ever since I started working with the Company I have had a slow but steady hair loss. I'll be bald by the time I'm 30. The lesson I got from that is, don't leave yourself wide open in front of Steve Epp. He'll take you down."

Mason Jennings, singer/songwriter: "I held my CD-release party for Birds Flying Away at the Jeune Lune space a few years ago. We had a flamenco group open for us, and I couldn't even pronounce their name, but I just remember thinking, `This is the only place in town where I could do this.' I felt very, very small."

Susan Zemke board member and long time supporter: I have many memories, but one of my favorite is when we had the "hard hat" party during the renovation of the theatre. The place was large, rough, full of its own history and full of fascinating promise for Theatre de la Jeune Lune. The building seemed alive to me and just waiting for us to love it and care for it. It was the most beautiful building I had ever seen. It still is.

Another of my favorite memories is opening night of Children of Paradise, also opening night of the "new" theatre. The pre-show party was fun, everyone was dressed up and excited, the Theatre was packed, and the show was spectacular. But, the most magical part for me was when Nan Clarke, then president of the board, and I took flowers to the stage for the company during their bows. The lights felt blinding as we walked onto the stage and I was so nervous, but the sight of the cast, how beautiful everyone was, how they glowed, just filled my heart with love for the Theatre and for each of the actors. I was overwhelmed with the magic.

My third favorite memory was when I had a part in Cyrano - courtesy of my husband and Charlie Zelle - they bid on it during a live auction at Moonlight Madness. I was terrified, particularly of Dominique with whom I had one line. I remembered the line, didn't deliver it too well, but made it through. My plan after my small part was to watch the rest of the show from the wings for a very different view. As I was watching, Bob asked me if I wasn't going back on the stage with the rest of the bakers and wouldn't I like to. I did and I loved it - still terrified. The other actors took great care to keep me from wrecking the place and humiliating myself and even pulled off a trick during curtain calls - they changed places with me each time without my realizing it so that in the end I wound up in front with the principle actors. Barbara directed that show and her generosity and that of all the actors may that a wonderful night for me - from the place they set for me in the dressing room to the final bow. My Mother cam all the way from Richmond, VA and had a great time. (Although, she's now sure I'm definitely no actor!)

Robyne Robinson, television personality, KMSP-TV: "One of the most poignant, heartfelt tributes to an artist and friend was when the entire Twin Cities art community showed up at Jeune Lune to celebrate Gus Gufstason. I'd only known Gus from `hanging out'… seeing him at the Wyman building or at a hipster party. He was quiet when we spoke, but always had a smile on his face as if he knew a secret. And the thick lenses on his glasses seemed to make his eyes peer inside you. But when I went to the tribute, I learned so much more about how much Gus gave to the arts community. He seemed to be the heart of the community. Jeune Lune seemed to be the perfect place to honor him. It held a lot of love."

Anonymous: While this may not qualify for what your are looking for, this one is a little different:

Before Jeune Lune moved into your current home, it used to be a storage place where one could rent a secure space for storage. I used to have one there, in fact had to give it up when you bought and renovated the building.

It was really a bizarre place to go to. I would go in the front door and ring a bell and then wait for the caretaker to come down. He was kind of a crusty old guy and he would hobble along as he would take me back, past this huge walk-in safe and he'd let me in the elevator. This was fairly creepy since it was an old gate-type elevator that shook and rattled as it moved so very slowly up.

The floor where my locker was located was even more creepy. It was a long hallway with high ceilings and instead of being lit from above, the only lights were waist high bare bulbs on the walls. You had to be careful not to brush against them and break them off, and there were always a few missing. The light gave everything a weird sense of dimension, it was like an old-time fright movie with low lights. The locker doors were these huge, thick steel doors with strips of steel welded across them for strength. Needless to say they weighed a ton and were painted black.

So here you are in this hallway with rows of steel, black doors, eerie light and somewhat crumbly plaster coming off the walls. Then you'd hear the elevator motor wind up and the elevator would disappear.

Its no wonder we used to call it "jail."

After you renovated the building, the first time I went to see a performance, I was happy to see how you had actually preserved parts of upper floors. My locker was one that was close to where you cut off the floor to open that space up.

I had talked with the caretaker one time and he told me about how there were several sub basements including one level where they stabled horses that used to drag the barges up the river. But you probably already know all that.

In these days of tin sheds for personal storage, I doubt there will ever again be a place like jail.

For what its worth.

NancI Olesen, radio producer and wife of Steven Epp: The big celebration on the day they opened the building and carried moon puppets from Heart of the Beast into the Theatre. Our son Henry, who was two at the time, was enchanted by the event. I also remember seeing Henry recognize Steve was cool. Nora three - "That's my dad." Honeymoon China. Nancy took care of Ben during Children of Paradise, like my Jeune Lune son. Re-enact the shows in the yard. Spent time alone because of the Theatre. Radio program "Mombo" -- pretty difficult to have two of us out of the house at night. Fulfill desire to get things out in the world. Being a theatre mom has extra challenges because of the late night hours. The parent doesn't have the ability to go to a lot of school -- that can be really challenging. The beauty of Jeune Lune on tour with the company. Going to see Steve in The Miser. Logged alot of years (months)....Poignant beautiful memories. What the kids get and we all get -- how much Steve loves his work, his dedication. Favorite events is opening night.