Fringe Benefits At Theater's Edge

Perhaps you'll be smitten with Ross's compression of "Star Wars," an attention-grabber if there ever was one. "Fringe," he says, "is about getting a good concept, because finding an audience can be cutthroat."

Or will Cantwell's theater-de-avoirdupois be in the more confessional vein that appeals to you? "I don't know who my audience is going to be: That's the scary part," says the young actress, who portrays more than 20 characters in a play built around the cultural bias suggesting that "the bigger you are, the more invisible you become."

On the basis of their titles, some productions arrive with a high curiosity quotient: "Jay Allen Zimmerman's Incredibly Deaf Musical"; "Naked Cabaret"; "Frida Vice-Versa"; "The Play About the Hurricane"; "Bushwa: A Modern Ubu."

And in "Mamas, Don't Let Your Cowboys Grow Up to Be Actors," James Beard, an actor seeking to raise his profile in Washington, recounts a trajectory that began with his upbringing, roping cattle on the family ranch in California.

"I started writing it when I was on the road with Shenandoah Shakespeare," Beard says, referring to the touring branch of the classical company based in Staunton, Va. "And it really got developed in people's living rooms across the country. A lot of times on the road, you'd get invited to parties after the show. I would tell the host that I had 10 minutes or so of material and ask if they minded if I gathered people around. By the end, I had enough for workshop performances."

Fringe has become such a dynamic niche that some shows travel the circuit of festivals. Canada has its own governing association of Fringes; festivals across this country are beginning to organize in the same way. The events, however, are not uniformly successful. New York and Minneapolis-St. Paul sponsor the largest Fringes each summer, but festivals have failed to survive in some cities, including Seattle, says Leach Cooper, executive director of 13-year-old Minnesota Fringe and an organizer of the nascent U.S. Association of Fringe Festivals.

When the festivals flourish, however, they can have a significant impact on a theater town. Surveys of attendees at the Minnesota Fringe -- which will showcase 168 shows Aug. 3-13 -- reveal that 15 percent had never been to the theater before. "And of them," Cooper says, "99 percent said they would go again."

"The art you're seeing, because it's done bare-bones, is very accessible for audiences," she adds, explaining that Fringe often appeals to people who identify themselves as outside the mainstream. "It's really good for newcomer artists because they learn hands-on. And for veteran artists, it lets them grow on the business end as well as the artistic."

And what of the art itself? The garage-band aspect of putting on this level of show does not necessarily lead to "Cats"-level ubiquity. Still, lightning has been known to strike. After having a premiere at the New York International Fringe Festival, the musical "Urinetown" moved to an off-Broadway house and later went to Broadway, where it had a profitable run and won Tony Awards.

"It absolutely put us on the map," says Elena K. Holy, producing artistic director of the New York Fringe. (Reflecting the on-the-fly nature of the Fringe, though: A decade after the festival's founding, Holy is its only full-time staff member.)

The runaway success of "Urinetown" was an anomaly, and as far as the Fringe faithful is concerned, that's a good thing. Big paydays have never been the point. Fringe loses its significance as an alternative when it becomes preoccupied with making money.

"Each city defines its own Fringe Festival," Holy says. What that means for Washington will become clearer in the coming weeks, as Capital Fringe lays out its wares.

One distinguishing aspect of Washington's Fringe is the large number of dance companies signing on. Performers from the Liz Lerman Dance Company Exchange, for instance, will participate with "Bring Us On Home." And choreographer Michelle Ava will be represented with "Slightly Uncomfortable," a dance-theater piece using electronic music and spoken word to "deliver a message about peace."

For David Keltz, a Baltimore actor who has been performing one-man shows about Edgar Allan Poe for 15 years, the festival will provide him a stage for his new piece, "Poe at the Willard." (The work will be staged at the Willard Hotel -- one of several supplementary sites for Fringe productions. Teresa Herold, Keltz's producing partner, says that it so happens that in 1843, the poet stayed in the hotel that was the Willard's precursor on the site.)

"Poe at the Willard" features Keltz as a platform speaker, reciting such obscure pieces as "The Spectacles" and such timeless ones as "The Raven." Few offerings at this Fringe, though, will have that level of literary ambition.

At the other end of cultural dial, there will be "The Eddie Lounge Show," featuring the song stylings of Ed Spitzberg, development director of Arena Stage by day and crooning lead of the fictitious Eddie and the Cosmos by night.

The show -- half play and half lounge act -- came together in hurry. The performers -- who include his brother, colleagues at Arena, guys from his Yale singing group, the Alley Cats -- were not even involved when he signed the contract with the Fringe. "Within 24 hours," he says, "I had this ideal cast."

How very Fringe of him.