Groundbreaking playwrights are a tough act to follow
Rare beast extinct: legit scribe recognizable to layman
The combined impact can hardly be understated. Miller, who died Feb. 10, 2005, was regularly cited as America's greatest living playwright. Wilson, who succumbed to cancer on Oct. 3, was the country's leading African-American dramatist. And Wasserstein arguably reigned as the top female stage scribe.
But, more than that, each was that increasingly rare beast: the theater writer recognizable to the layman.
"Unlike most playwrights today, they were public figures," says Lincoln Center Theater artistic director Andre Bishop, who produced most of Wasserstein's plays. "There are lots of successful playwrights today, but are they public figures? No. I can't really think of one. In Miller's day, it was still possible to be a public figure. August was one because of his pioneering plays about African-American life and his formidable presence. And Wendy, because of her pioneering plays about women and her wide interests and infectious personality."
"People knew them as playwrights," John Weidman, president of the Dramatists Guild, says simply. "Not as people who sometimes worked in the theater. I think that's one of the things that's striking when you look at the three together."
The trio was also valuable, says Bishop, in that they inspired younger generations of playwrights by their very existence.
"Top Dog/Underdog" author Suzan-Lori Parks agrees. "For me, it was always wonderful to have people like Miller, and certainly August Wilson and Wendy Wasserstein to look up to; to have those people breaking down the barriers," she says. "Wendy was the first woman to win the Tony. And all the contributions August made -- it meant so much, just having those elders in the community."
Whether writers can rise to such stature in today's risk-averse theater is an open question.
Wendy Goldberg, artistic director of the dramatist-nurturing O'Neill Playwrights Conference, concurs that support models for playwrights have changed, and not for the better.
"These three artists had very long histories with collaborators who became prominent theatrical producers, directors, artistic directors and actors. The teams invested in each other, and also stood by each other -- their commitments were long term."
Indeed, just as Wasserstein's name was always associated with Bishop -- first at Playwrights Horizons, then at LCT -- Miller could count on the backing first of Kermit Bloomgarden and later Robert Whitehead.
As for Wilson, a mix of producer Benjamin Mordecai, Jujamcyn Theaters and a collection of loyal regional houses ensured his dramas ended their journey on Broadway.
"We all need to constantly re-evaluate the way in which we work together and support each other," Goldberg continues. "I look forward to the day when one company takes the lead in producing every play Sarah Ruhl or Lynn Nottage has written."
Beyond the 77-year-old Edward Albee, theater's reigning Grand Old Man of Letters, one writer often cited by those interviewed for this article as a future leader of potentially national stature was Tony Kushner -- and not simply owing to his writing skills and shelves of awards.
"These days, the plays are not enough," says Bishop. "Wendy got herself out there in the world. She was welcomed by the press, as a public speaker, on television. Both August and Wendy were formidable speakers."
Goldberg pointed out one other significant quality shared by the vanished triumvirate -- a purview that extended beyond their own ambitions and careers.
"Arthur, August and Wendy all believed in the next generation of theater artists, and saw to it that others were empowered by their examples to be outspoken, to be daring, and to lean into any challenge."
