 Kathryn Fumie as "Lil" in June (2016) // Photo Credit: Carl Atiya Swanson Hi, friend.
It's been a while. How are you? Things have been pretty quiet under the umbrella. We've been focusing on spending time with our loved ones, taking care of our bodies, showing up for our communities, and tending to our hearts. As our stages went dark, we took a little break from the hustle of production to check back in with ourselves and get ready for the next step of our journey together. Thanks to our incredible Umbrella Circle, we've been able to weather this storm with compassion for each other and the work. While we know the metaphorical rain continues — and probably will for a while as we continue to heed the warnings from our medical professionals — we're seeing something start to grow. Is it a podcast? A letter writing campaign? A masked performance for an audience of one? A collaborative Zoom dance-a-thon? Who knows! We're not sure what it all looks like yet, but we're rolling up our sleeves to dig in. This Give to the Max Day, we invite you to join us in the dirt in the following ways:
We miss you a whole lot, and we're looking forward to finding a new way to be (safely) together again. Together is better, Hannah K. Holman Producing Artistic Director  Leslie Vincent, Kelly Houlehan, and Kalen Keir The Yellow Wallpaper & Other Things That Scare Us (2019) Our work continues. #GiveAtHomeMN ends tonight. If you have the means and feel inspired to share your support, please head over to our brand new GiveMN page and continue reading to find a few other amazing causes we are lifting up this week. However, please know that your support is needed into the future. This is a work-in-progress. Yes, #GiveAtHomeMN will be ending, but this process to heal and transform will continue beyond the stroke of midnight. Over the next weeks and months, we will collaborate in new ways — as artists, as audience members, as advocates, and as neighbors. We will reimagine what it means to share our stories, our joys, our fears, and our compassion with each other. It will not be easy, but it will be worth it. So, in this moment and the next: thank you. Thank you for supporting the artists. Thank you for celebrating the mess makers and the storytellers. Thank you for imagining a future full of creativity, collaboration, and conversation. Your support is so important now, always. I will leave you with some words from our 2016 production of June that have been comforting me as I imagine what comes next: "We can’t know what lies ahead. All we can do is trace the lines in our palms. Take care of each other. See each other. Ourselves." Let's take care of each other — and ourselves — in the most radical and collaborative ways we can imagine. Together is better, Hannah K. Holman Producing Artistic Director  As timelines continue to shift and funding sources remain uncertain over the next few months and years, artists and arts organizations need your support. If you have means and desire, we’d love to turn your attention to these partners and friends doing key work to uphold the arts in this difficult moment:
And, of course, we welcome your support of our behind-the-scenes work in whatever ways make sense right now. Here are a few ways you can ensure new work continues to thrive in the future:
* * * Adapted from our email newsletter: mailchi.mp/112e0a7f8027/our-work-continues Stay up-to-date about Umbrella Collective by signing up at umbrellaco.org/connect  Kathryn Fumie as "Lil" in June (2016) | Photo credit: Carl Atiya Swanson Dear artists and audience members, This is a work-in-progress. The script has not been written. The plot is changing day-by-day. Things are messy and uncertain, but full of possibility. As collaborative artists and new work makers, we know this feeling well. We’re used to starting with nothing but questions. We work through the uncertainty to make something out of nothing. We build entire worlds out of recycled fabric and the heartbeat of a drum. We create magical moments with a shift of the light. We craft intricate characters starting with nothing but a line from a poem and a spark of curiosity. We thrive in the messy parts, the unfinished work. We know what it means to work together even when we don’t know what comes next. It’s not easy. It takes bravery and trust to sit together in the unknowing — to acknowledge we don’t have all of the answers — but we believe that when we work together we can do so much more than we ever could alone. So, right now we’re listening. We’re dreaming. We’re planning. We’re breathing together even though we’re far apart. We’re devising new ways to collaborate. We’re embracing moments of stillness. We’re inventing new methods of care and practicing compassion — for ourselves and for each other. We’re brainstorming new ideas and stories and worlds. We’re imagining the futures we want to see. We are in the midst of rehearsal. We invite you to join us under the umbrella as we prepare for what comes next. We encourage you to be wild in your kindness and generous with your creativity. We welcome you to breathe together with us in uncertainty and complexity. We urge you to embrace your curiosity and your sense of play. This wasn’t in our original rehearsal plans, but — together — I know we can find a way forward. Together is better, Hannah K. Holman Producing Artistic Director  P. S. You may have heard that GiveMN is hosting a week of generosity starting today called #GiveAtHomeMN. As timelines continue to shift and funding sources remain uncertain over the next few months and years, artists and arts organizations need your support. If you have means and desire, we’d love to turn your attention to these partners and friends doing key work to uphold the arts in this difficult moment:
And, of course, we welcome your support of our behind-the-scenes work in whatever ways make sense right now. Here are a few ways you can ensure new work continues to thrive in the future:
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Adapted from our email newsletter: mailchi.mp/09c4917e2818/this-is-a-work-in-progress Stay up-to-date about Umbrella Collective by signing up at umbrellaco.org/connect We know that these last few days have been tough on everyone in our community. We're all pitching in to do our part to socially distance and flatten the curve of COVID-19. As part of that effort, we're indefinitely postponing our most recent work-in-progress, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was set to debut at Theatre Unbound's Girl Shorts Festival this coming weekend. Theatre Unbound will be working with festival ticket holders to issue refunds. However, we know that art and creativity is essential, and the work continues... even if it looks a little different! We took a moment to gather on the interwebs (!!) to hear new songs, and chat with Emily and Leslie about their process. We've had such a wonderful time digging into the story, and we look forward to sharing more with you very soon!  Lights up on a stage cut in half. On one side, a woman sits huddled on the floor, scrawling into a notebook. On the other, a woman sits with her guitar. Both wear long white nightgowns. Lights are dim. Can you tell us about your process creating The Yellow Wallpaper?Leslie Vincent: I had written some songs [for the October 2019 house concert], so I knew I had kind of an idea. And then Emily and I talked. We made a skeleton of the story, and assigned each other parts. So I was like, I want to start it; Emily wanted to finish it. Then we just we met every Friday for a couple hours. Emily Dussault: I feel like we have a system now since we've done this for a few different projects where we want to create new content, and we try to each take the lead on one (or more) songs, so we have something to bring. And then we kind of help each other shape. A lot of times we come and we say, "Okay, I have most of it, but I'm really struggling with this part" or "I have a lot of it, but I don't know if I like the words." That kind of thing. Then we'll talk through it together. Leslie: We had homework assignments and we would send each other stuff, but we mostly just met every Friday to practice, and that's how we -- we just make stuff like harmonies together on repeat. Emily: With the song I wrote, I was being really fussy about it. I brought it mostly done to her, but I was like, "Okay, I need better lyrics for this part. And I need these parts to rhyme," and I just was really, really stuck. We spent a lot of time on it, and it was mostly me shooting down all of the ideas that Leslie had, and Leslie was was like, "does it have to rhyme?" The next day, I sat down with it for an hour, and I completely had a breakthrough and finished it. It was mostly me just listening to her be like, "I don't think you need to worry about that." Three months ago I was trapped inside my head What new discoveries have you made?Emily: I really liked the idea that we've come up with regarding not defining who is the actual woman and who is the woman in the wallpaper. We were like, "What if each of us are both of them, and what if they're both just as real as the other?" which I think is such a cool way to tell the story on stage. My thoughts spill out and I can’t hold them all Emily: I re-read the story, and first of all... it's so good. And then I wrote down all of lines that referenced the "woman in the wallpaper," and I started just using those words. Most of the song is actually directly taken -- not, you know, word for word, but all of the big, visual words -- from the story when she's talking about seeing the woman. I liked having that that sort of restriction. I think helped me make it more specific. Have you found any other inspirations throughout the process?Leslie: Yeah, you know The Hazards of Love [by the Decemberists]? It's a concept album with a story. So I listened to that a lot; I wanted to do something like that. My dream is one day to have a band do these songs. Emily: It feels like a folk opera almost. Leslie: Yeah, that's a good way to describe it. Emily: And there are just certain chords and sounds that they use. I thought about that a lot when I was trying to find new chords to play on the uke. What are you excited to explore in the future?Leslie: Well, we never really got to physicalize it. Emily: I don't think it would have needed much. I mean, I like the idea of this being a song cycle or a concert performance as opposed to a fully staged play. We've talked about it being, like, alternate universes where every everything looks similar except for some details are off. Leslie: The way that we had talked about staging was basically everything we do is a mirror of each other. So, if we hear the door knock, we both look the opposite way. And everything is the same, but not the same, you know? Emily: Yeah, something really simple and like a concert, but with those visual elements. Yeah. What kind of person would design Emily: I think what we've come up with is really cool. As usual, collaborating with Leslie has been really fun. And, I was just thinking about how when we first started on this, we were like, "We need someone else. We need a man to play the man part, and someone who can play other instruments to help us out." And it didn't work out finding someone, so we thought, I guess it'll just be the two of us. Now I'm like, "Why didn't we just plan on doing it this way from the start?"
 If you know me, you know that I’m scared of pretty much everything. I can’t watch horror movies. I’m afraid of the dark. Spiders are an absolute no. Raccoons have weird hands that give me spine tingles. It took me about 25 years to be able to walk across bridges without having a near meltdown. I have a sometimes debilitating fear of letting others down. Heights are obviously out of the question, and I can’t even look at taxidermy because I’m 100% positive it’s going to come to life and get me. (That one’s ridiculous, I know.) Almost 9 years ago, I did a really scary (to me) thing: I sent an email to a group of wild, collaborative artists I didn’t know to ask if I could play. I was fresh out of college, jobless, living in my parents’ basement, and really just not sure what was going to happen next. (I’m a huge planning nerd with mountains of anxiety, so you can imagine this was a pretty scary place to be in.) They said yes, and I thought, “oh, crap, now I have to actually do this scary thing.” Do you ever do that — a really scary thing that just leads to more scary things?  I was so nervous at the first rehearsal. They were all so smart, wildly talented, and seemingly fearless; it was intimidating. However, it didn’t take long before I learned that they were also fiercely kind and compassionate. I’m honestly not sure if that made them more or less intimidating, but it did make me realize that I had found something I was looking for: a place to put my fears and my failures; to mess up and make mistakes. It was a place I could be loved and supported for my weird, creative, messy, vulnerable self. A home. So, as I listened to Leslie, Peter, Annie, Anna, Amanda, Keith, Kalen, Gracie, and Kelly open up their hearts and their creative processes on Monday night at The Yellow Wallpaper & Other Things That Scare Us, I was transported back to that feeling of saying yes to a really scary thing that leads to even more scary things. And, in a literal home filled with food and friends, we had the opportunity to live in the earliest drafts, the roughest ideas, and all the soft scary parts together. That’s what’s so meaningful to me about being part of Umbrella Collective. It’s a place where we tell each other it’s okay to be scared and it’s okay to not have all the answers. We can sit together in the scary parts and ask questions. Audiences and artists can create collaborative worlds together through breath, time, music, and story. All of this magic is possible because of our incredible community of artists and audiences. In case you haven’t heard, this month we launched the Umbrella Circle — our brand new any-amount monthly donors club. We're so thrilled to welcome 36 new work lovers under our umbrella and into the Umbrella Circle. Each of these awesome folks has committed to supporting the ongoing work of building new plays through compassionate collaboration, highlighting queer and womxn stories and storytellers, supporting artists through increasing pay towards $15 per hour, and inspiring conversation and connection in our community.  It’s sometimes a scary thing to ask for help, but we have been absolutely blown away by the support we’ve received during this campaign. This consistent support makes a huge impact on our ability to experiment, play, and plan with intention… so we can do even bigger, scarier things! We’re wrapping up our official campaign, but there’s no wrong time to join the Circle. The work continues, and we want to do it better, bolder, and together with you. If you want to be part of this magical place where we say yes to scary things, head over to UmbrellaCo.org/UmbrellaCircle From under the umbrella and the bottom of our hearts, thank you. - HannahUmbrella Collective works hard. In the midst organizing house concerts, fundraising, and planning exciting things for the future, three of our longest standing Collective Members stopped to answer the question, 'What does being in a collective mean to you?' Here are their replies: Megan Clark
Being in a collective means there is always someone there to hear me. There is always someone there who has the missing piece to an idea you're working on. There is always someone there to reassure you that your ideas are worthy of exploration. There is always someone there. Community is very important to me, and being part of a collective is being part of a community. Sharing ideas, skills, and creativity is central to that. Umbrella Collective is a place of generosity in this way. We are generous of ourselves, our time, and our creativity. Kathryn Fumie
Lean in to what you love. Umbrella Collective loves theatre. Devised, group-created, original theatre. We're endeavoring to lean in, to really commit ourselves, and to maintain a creative space. Our collective is investing in our future, our artistry, and our opportunities. The changing of seasons is deeply entwined with food. The harvest is in, and a wealth of fresh produce is available for all. In the fall, I prepare and preserve food. I invest in my future - future Kathryn, whom in Winter will open a jar of homemade tomato sauce, preserved at the height of summer deliciousness. I will eat fermented kimchi made of just-picked ingredients from the farmers market. I will share homemade salsa at a gathering of friends. I spend a lot of time in this investment: buying, chopping, cooking, jarring, processing. And I know if I didn’t make the effort, I would be quite disappointed in my pantry. And I know if I lean in and commit, it will pay off. Umbrella Collective is investing. Sweat equity, time, planning, grants, fundraising. Workshops, script development, unique venues, community gatherings. Our kind of theatre requires time, preparation, and investment. I want to continue to present stories that matter, to me and us and everyone. We believe it’s worth it, and we hope you do too. If we lean in, it’ll pay off. Alana Horton
I get to experience the other wild ways that other folks and artists create and see the world. Together, we are able to make work I could never dream of alone Yet so often, we stick to old, time-worn methods of how to collaborate in theater. There are rigid edges, and strictly defined roles that separate playwrights, actors, directors, technicians, and crew. You're asked to choose a path, and stick with it. As someone who calls herself a director, performer, actor, musician, and visual artist, I've always felt strange about that strict way of creating art. It just didn't make SENSE to me. I longed for a space where I could play in more expansive ways. Being part of Umbrella Collective means that I can use all my multifaceted skills and thoughts and ideas. They're welcomed in the room. Better yet, I get to experience the other wild ways that other folks and artists create and see the world. Together, we are able to make work I could never dream of alone. Together, we shape new kinds of compassionate collaboration processes. And the end result is meaningful, embodied, collaborative works of theater, that is the result of the voices of EVERYONE in the room. There are plenty of theater companies out there. I'm lucky to live in a place and community where theater and art are embraced and supported. But for me, being part of this collective has let me find a space where I can be fully myself, with all my rough edges and contradictions laid bare. And that's everything. What does Umbrella Collective mean to you? Do you support collaborative, compassionate, risk-taking endeavors? Now is the time to take the step and get under the umbrella. Consider becoming a member of the Umbrella Circle, our brand new monthly donors club! Click the button below for more information.  There’s a lot to say about Evelyn Nesbit. We know. We did a lot of research for VELVET SWING. Here’s an extremely brief summary of her life to get you up to speed before the show.  At the tail end of the Victorian Era, the most beautiful baby in three counties was born on Christmas day. Her name was Florence Evelyn Nesbit. We'd tell you what year it was, but she lied about her age so often that no one can be sure if it was 1884 or 1885. Florence was known professionally as Evelyn Nesbit and was an artists’ model, chorus girl and actress. She “set the standard for ideal feminine attractiveness” (eek) according to Charles Dana Gibson, a popular artist at the time who used her face for his famous print “Woman: The Eternal Question.” She was, many say, the prototype for the modern supermodel.  Evelyn (L) and "Woman: The Eternal Question" (R) Perhaps the main reason you may have heard of Evelyn over a century later is that she received international attention when her husband, Harry Thaw murdered New York architect and socialite Stanford White on June 25, 1906 leading to what was later called the “Trial of the Century."  Five years before the murder, when she was a stage performer at the age of 15 or 16, Evelyn was groomed by Stanford, then aged 47. He first gained her and her mother's trust, sexually assaulted her while she was unconscious, and then had a subsequent romantic and sexual relationship with her that continued for some period of time. When she became older, and Stanford was less interested in her, she was sent to a boarding school. It has been speculated that she went to have and recover from an abortion, though acute appendicitis was what went on the official record.
Harry Thaw, who had also pursued Evelyn as a chorus girl, turned up at her boarding school offering to take her to Europe for the sake of her health. (Yes, this was an actual thing in Victorian times.) While in Europe, an already contentious mother-daughter dynamic was escalated by the efforts of Harry to get between them. He sent Mrs. Nesbit home early. With her mother out of the way, Harry locked Evelyn in a wing of a castle and tortured her for two weeks until she revealed every detail of her history with Stanford White, who Harry had been obsessed with for years.
During his murder trial, Harry’s lawyers argued that Evelyn’s stories about Stanford had driven Harry temporarily insane, and that the shooting was a single aberrant act. He was not, in fact, guilty of murder - he had only been defending his wife’s innocent womanhood! The Thaw family promised Evelyn money in exchange for telling the court about her relationship with Stanford, which she did, to overwhelming media attention. The press latched onto scandalous details in Evelyn’s testimony like the fact that Stanford would have her swing naked on a red velvet swing in his apartment, or that Stanford had paid to have Evelyn’s front tooth fixed (which Harry later paid to have un-fixed. At a 1900's dentist. Ow).  Winifred Bonfils, one of the trial's "Sob Sisters". The press, including "The Sob Sisters," a group of female reporters, took up the cause of swaying popular opinion in favor of Harry. It worked: after two trials spanning several years, Harry was declared to have been insane at the time of the murder, avoided the electric chair, and spent most of the rest of his life in and out of asylums. Evelyn was pregnant with her son, Russell, at the end of the trial. The Thaws denied that the baby was Harry's, but Evelyn maintained throughout her life that Russell was Harry's son. The Thaws gave Evelyn $25,000 after the trial was over, but to spite Mrs. Thaw, Evelyn donated it to the political anarchist Emma Goldman.  Evelyn and her son, Russell To support herself and her baby, Evelyn worked the Vaudeville circuits and performed in silent films. She had become so famous that she couldn’t go in public without being mobbed and for some time she had to hire body-doubles in order to be able to travel. In 1915 Evelyn finally divorced Harry and one year later married dancer Jack Clifford, but their marriage was tainted by Evelyn’s notoriety. Jack became known as “Mr. Eveyn Nesbit” and left her in 1918. In the 1920s Evelyn became the proprietor of a tearoom in the West 50s in Manhattan. During this period she struggled with alcoholism, morphine addiction and attempted suicide. After this attempt, Harry, who had been keeping her under surveillance by private detectives, reached out. The press speculated that they would reunite, but this wasn’t to be. When Harry died, he left Evelyn $10,000 as a “token of pleasant memories of the past when we were happy.”  Evelyn in her teahouse, 1922 Evelyn published two memoirs, The Story Of My Life (1914) and Prodigal Days (1934). During World War II, Evelyn lived in Los Angeles, CA teaching ceramics and sculpting at the Grant Beach School of Arts and Crafts. She was a technical advisor for the movie The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing starring Joan Collins in 1955 for which she was paid $10,000.
She died in a nursing home in Santa Monica, CA on January 17, 1967 and is buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, CA. In 1981 she appeared again as a character in the film Ragtime based on E.L. Doctorow’s eponymous novel.
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 | Antonia Perez (Performer) I’m excited about the ladies in this show. They all come to rehearsal full of ideas and ready to play. It made bonding and being five parts of one woman easy. We also make each other laugh so much. I hope it translates to the audience! |
 | Mickaylee Shaughnessy (Performer) This show is basically an all-you-can-eat buffet - we get to do a little bit of everything, so on that level, it’s just a lot of fun. But it is also a really profound examination of the way women were (and are) treated. |
 | Meredith Kind (Performer) I love telling historical stories. Things that really happened. And how much better to tell the real story for Evelyn. Working with women & telling this woman’s story is what it’s all about. |
 | Natavia Lewis (Performer) For me, the most exciting thing about this show is what each performer brings to their characters. It’s fun to see multiple people play one person, while simultaneously portraying different parts of who she was. I also love that we don’t rush over the hard parts of her story. They are just as important as the rest, no matter how difficult they are to hear. |
 | Jessie Scarborough-Ghent (Performer) I’m excited for this show because I get to be funny!! |
 | Michelle Hernick (Performer & Musician) This production encapsulates what many women have felt: attempting to break out of roles society has created for us. Are we Madonna? Are we Whore? Why do we have to choose? Framing these questions under a guise of a vaudeville show allows us to present these ideas in a palpable context, where we can use humor as a vehicle to explore the molds women are forced into and how it can affect their lives. |
 | Megan Clark (Story Designer) I am excited for people to see these amazing, brilliant and talented actresses tell an important and serious story in a really funny and charming way. My favorite part of working on this play was how much we could laugh during rehearsals and also honor the serious content. |
 | Alana Horton (Story Designer) I’m so excited to see this story come to life! VELVET SWING is something that I’ve been dreaming up since 2014 since I first heard the story of Evelyn Nesbit. It’s remarkable, sad, and frustrating to me that a 115 year old story still has such resonance in our current moment. |
VELVET SWING's creative team also features the talents of:
Stage Manager . . . Jenny Moeller
Costume & Props Designer . . . Josie Everett
Dramaturgy Support . . . Jo Holcomb
Producing Artistic Director . . . Hannah K. Holman
Stage Manager . . . Jenny Moeller
Costume & Props Designer . . . Josie Everett
Dramaturgy Support . . . Jo Holcomb
Producing Artistic Director . . . Hannah K. Holman
Come join us at VELVET SWING
Tickets are sliding scale $5 - $20 in advance and at the door. Get advance tickets here
April 5 - 27, 2019
at Bryant-Lake Bowl & Theater
810 W Lake St
Minneapolis, MN 55408
April 5 - 27, 2019
at Bryant-Lake Bowl & Theater
810 W Lake St
Minneapolis, MN 55408
Photo: Allison Witham as "B" and Kathryn Fumie as "Lil" in June (2016), credit Dan Norman.
Dear New Work Lover,
Thank you for bringing your brave heart and your bold ideas to every Umbrella Collective experience. Whether you've joined us as an audience member, collaborator, donor, friend, or all of the above, you play an integral role in the creation of new plays. We love that you are under the umbrella with us.
"I love Umbrella Collective because it's just that: it's a collection of ideas, personalities, backgrounds, and artistic voices. Somehow we meld them all together and make beautiful, moving work that puts a smile on your face and sparks real conversations."
- Collective Member Antonia Perez
For over a decade, Umbrella Collective has been making ambitious theater on a shoestring budget. Now, it's time to grow, and we need your support. This Valentine's Day, show your love by making a contribution to our New Work Fund!
Over the next few years, we'll be working toward increasing artist pay, exploring new and exciting ways to collaborate with our artists and audiences, investing in organizational sustainability and strategic planning, and continuing to create the stunning and engaging new works of theater that you love. We want to do the work better, bolder, and together with you.
How YOU can co-create new plays with us:
- $10/mo. or $120 — one week of rehearsal venue rental
Sharing space and time is essential to the collaborative process!- $45/mo. or $540 — costume and props for a production
Costumes and props give place, time, and context for the stunning and thought-provoking stories you see on stage.- $100/mo. or $1,200 — top-notch talent on stage
We want your experience to be unforgettable, and that means attracting and supporting incredible artists.
To truly sustain the work of Umbrella Collective, select the "donate monthly" option after designating any amount of your choice.
See you under the umbrella!
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