Flanagan, Hallie (1889–1969)

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Flanagan, Hallie (1889–1969)

Experimental and innovative director, producer, and teacher of American theater. Born Hallie Ferguson in Redfield, South Dakota, on April 27, 1889; died in a nursing home in Beacon, New York, on July 23, 1969; daughter of Frederic (a traveling salesman) and Louisa (Fischer) Ferguson; attended public school through the twelfth grade; graduated from Grinnell College in 1911; studied with George Pierce Baker at Harvard theater workshop; received Guggenheim Foundation grant in 1926–27 to tour theaters of Europe and Russia; married Murray Flanagan, on December 25, 1912 (died 1917); married Philip Davis, on April 27, 1934 (died 1940); children: (first marriage) Jack (1914–1922) and Frederic; (stepchildren) Joanne, Jack, and Helen.

Taught English and theater at Grinnell College (1920–25); taught playwriting and dramatic production at Vassar College (1925–34); served as director of the Federal Theater of the Works Project Administration (1935–39); was theatrical director at Vassar College (1940–42); served as dean at Smith College (1942–52).

Selected publications:

Shifting Scenes of the Modern European Theatre (NY: Coward McCann, 1928); Arena (NY: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1940); Dynamo (NY: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1943).

Hallie Flanagan, the object of controversy, criticism, and admiration, profoundly affected the American theater. Appointed by Harry Hopkins to head the Federal Theater Project in 1935, she created innovative and provocative entertainment during an era when political sentiment was shifting toward a conservatism that disparaged liberal expression in the arts. Hallie Flanagan never allowed expediency to compromise her dramatic vision or integrity.

She was born Hallie Ferguson in Redfield, South Dakota, on April 27, 1889. The economic fluctuations of the time forced Flanagan's parents to move frequently during her early years. Finally settling in Grinnell, Iowa, the family enjoyed a degree of prosperity and a harmonious and stable life. Flanagan's perhaps idealized memories of a leisurely and serene existence in the small town are complimented by her recollections of her father's gregarious charm and her mother's reserved calm. Her father Frederic engaged her in conversations about the world, challenging her to achieve, convincing her that she could do anything she chose to accomplish. Her mother Louisa Fischer Ferguson epitomized a life in service to her family. Flanagan admired and loved both her parents; their examples set her standards and were the foundation for her lifelong struggle to balance career and family. It was a struggle clearly weighted in favor of career but not without soul-searching. Even at age nine, Hallie seemed unusually mature and confident. She had a kind, lively spirit that was moderated by a somewhat excessive sense of propriety.

Flanagan attended Grinnell College in Iowa. Attractive, bright and enthusiastic, she participated in all aspects of college life except athletics, and her friends deferred to her as the natural leader. Some accused her of collecting admirers, but her charm was forthright and irresistible. The college fostered a strong sense of public service, and Flanagan's idealism flourished. She took strong stands against injustice and racism despite the underlying apathy of the time.

Years later, Hallie would maintain that the only significant occurrence for her at Grinnell was meeting Murray Flanagan, but she insisted they delay their marriage until she had taught high school English for a year. From the beginning, Flanagan's lack of interest in domestic chores and her growing restlessness contributed to a less than idyllic relationship. Tuberculosis killed Murray Flanagan in 1917, leaving Hallie with two young sons to raise.

To earn a living, she returned to instructing, first teaching high school English, then freshman English at Grinnell College in the fall of 1920. That was the year Grinnell, under William Bridge's direction, introduced playwriting and dramatic production into its curriculum. By the spring of 1921, Flanagan had become his assistant, was writing her first play, and had begun to seriously consider a career in theater. But everything came to a momentary halt the following year when Jack Flanagan, her seven-year-old son, contracted spinal meningitis; at the time, there was no cure. When the boy died in 1922, Flanagan was devastated, and only her younger son Frederic's needs compelled her to resume her career.

The loss of her husband and son convinced Flanagan that she had failed as a wife and mother; it also fueled her resolve to succeed. In January of 1923, she took over the theater courses at Grinnell and became head of the dramatic council; she was determined to create a substantial theater program, and her vision gained the support of both students and administration.

Influenced by the lectures of George Pierce Baker, an important figure in the "new theater" movement, and intent upon studying with him, Flanagan was accepted into Baker's playwriting classes at Harvard for the 1923 academic year. She later credited Baker with teaching her everything she knew about theater. Her eagerness and acumen earned his respect and recognition, and she became his assistant by midterm. Baker recommended she spend a year seeing plays in Europe and wrote glowingly of her abilities to the Guggenheim Foundation.

Returning to Grinnell, Flanagan reorganized the Dramatic Club and took charge of a production that assured her future: Romeo and Juliet. The staging, the costumes, and the spectacular lighting held the audience spellbound. The president of the Carnegie Foundation, Frederick Keppel was so impressed by the production that he promised his support for her Guggenheim fellowship.

In 1925, Flanagan was offered and accepted the job of teaching playwriting and dramatic production at Vassar College. Both the salary increase and the proximity to New York theater convinced her to make the move, though she was less comfortable with the snobbish superiority she perceived in the Vassar students and faculty. Nevertheless, Vassar was a lively cultural center where liberal thinking, innovation, and feminist ideals were encouraged, and Flanagan flourished. Finally awarded a Guggenheim fellowship for 1926–27, she was quick to receive permission from Vassar's president for a year's leave of absence. More difficult was the decision regarding her son Frederic. Her parents moved into her Poughkeepsie, New York, apartment to be near him while he boarded at Oakland School. Seemingly carefree and happy, the boy never complained about the continual separations.

Traveling through England, Ireland, Sweden, Denmark, and Germany, Flanagan met with celebrated members of the theatrical community of each nation, but she was less than excited by the works being done. Their days of innovation seemed over. In Russia, however, Flanagan found a theater in ferment. Artists

were still experimenting and developing. After the 1917 Russian Revolution, theater had become a national obsession, and, though much that was being done was mediocre and merely propaganda for the Soviet regime, theater had become a vital part of the lives of the Russian people. It addressed their concerns and expressed their hope for a better social system. Konstantin Stanislavsky and Vsevolod Meyer-hold were still working in comparative freedom; Stalinist suppression had not yet begun. Flanagan's response to Russia was entirely idealistic, based upon her hopes rather than reality. Stanislavsky and Meyerhold would have tremendous impact on Flanagan's future work and vision.

On her return to Vassar, she set forth an ambitious, innovative program of plays. Her class in dramatic production quickly became a catalyst for controversy among the more academically staid members of the faculty. Perhaps there was resentment over the enthusiasm of her students and the regard in which they held their teacher. Hallie Flanagan had become the center of an admiring, loyal following.

The quality of theater she produced justified the admiration. Flanagan's plays were reviewed favorably by Theatre Arts Monthly, Theatre Magazine, Woman's Journal and The New York Times Magazine. Writes biographer Joanne Bentley , she "won the respect of a profession ever derisive of the academic theater." She was the first to use Meyerhold's constructivist techniques in an American production, and it created a stir that spread far beyond the Vassar campus. New York writers, critics, and theater professionals would continue to attend her plays in the years that followed.

Flanagan's romance with Philip Davis began in 1930 when she cast him in a play. Davis, who was depressed and drinking heavily after the death of his wife, was as taken by Flanagan's magic and charisma as were her students, and he finally persuaded her to marry him in 1934 in Greece. Though she was hesitant to the last moment, the union proved a success. Davis, who brought three children into the marriage, was unfailingly supportive, encouraging and under-standing of her need for independence.

During the 1930s, a growing number of playwrights turned their focus on the condition of the world's economy. Flanagan had been one of the first non-Communists in America to use the theater to stimulate public reaction to the issues of poverty, unemployment, and injustice. Publication of Shifting Scenes in 1928 and the articles she had written about Russia for Theater Arts Monthly had established her as an authority on Russian theater. Those credits, coupled with her productions of Can You Hear Their Voices?, American Plan, and Miners on Strike, had gained her a reputation as a theatrical propagandist for leftist causes. She was accused of being a "disseminator of Communist propaganda" in a Hearst editorial in February 1935. Flanagan repudiated Communism as being too simplistic an approach, but she believed in motivating students and audiences to become involved in world issues. Because of her unflinching willingness to create controversial, engaging theater of social relevance, the accusation would follow her throughout her career.

Flanagan's appointment as Federal Theater director was announced in July 1935. Harry Hopkins, who had been a classmate of Flanagan's in high school and college, was the head of the Works Progress Administration (WPA), created by Franklin Roosevelt to put the jobless to work during the Depression. It was Hopkins' idea to include the arts projects for writers, directors, musicians, painters, and thespians in the WPA. After their years together, Hopkins had followed Flanagan's career and admired her accomplishments. Both loved the arts and shared a vision of artists developing their craft while exposing audiences nationwide to affordable theater.

From the beginning, Flanagan tried to build the foundation for a national federation of theaters that would continue to function even when the federal subsidy was withdrawn. Her plan included five production centers in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston, and New Orleans. Resident companies would train actors and technicians in modern production techniques, provide a research center, commission plays, and perform new and classical plays that commercial theater could ill afford to try. Contemporary events were to be dramatized in a series of Living Newspapers. Touring companies would reach a circuit of smaller theaters throughout the country. Each region would enjoy dramatic autonomy, with Flanagan directing general policy from Washington. Hopkins was enthusiastic.

Flanagan was immediately faced with pressure from Washington to put 12,000 to 15,000 unemployed to work at once while trying to surmount a frustratingly cumbersome bureaucracy unaccustomed to dealing with artists. Furthermore, the theatrical unions were troublesome and uncooperative to the spirit of the project. It was only after imaginative negotiations that she was able to win their participation. Generally, those in commercial theater were unwilling to work for the minimal wages offered by the project, and most of Flanagan's appointments came from regional theaters. Thus, a younger and less established set contributed most to the Federal Theater.

Dedicated to the ideal of producing plays that provoked public debate, Flanagan was constantly in the spotlight defending Federal Theater presentations. Whether it was government bureaucrats fearful for national security or conservatives offended by the leftist examination of traditional policies, the Federal Theater and Hallie Flanagan were attacked and criticized. Politics also played an important part; conservatives were interested in discrediting the Roosevelt administration in every conceivable way. Called to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee, Flanagan's patriotism and integrity were questioned and denigrated. She conducted herself with dignity and honesty in defense of both her own and the project's reputation.

Despite these attacks, the Federal Theater, under Flanagan's guidance, continued to produce plays that received critical acclaim and played to full houses. But by 1938 Congress was determined to dismantle the New Deal and was aggressively cutting relief spending. Though Flanagan fought hard to save the Federal Theater, the Senate and House passed a compromise relief bill which eliminated funds after June 30, 1939.

The next seven months following the close of the Federal Theater were surprisingly happy ones for Flanagan. She worked on her book about the project, Arena, and enjoyed more time with her family than had been possible during the preceding years. Then, in February 1940, Philip Davis died of coronary thrombosis. Though Flanagan felt the loss deeply, she submerged her grief with work: writing and teaching playwriting at Vassar. When her book was completed in mid-1940, she returned to the directing of experimental theater at Vassar and to the question of how to make a college theater responsive to the larger community.

Offered the post of dean at Smith College, she readily took the job, intrigued with the idea of creating a theater department and glad for an opportunity to distance herself from the memories of her life with Davis that surrounded her in Poughkeepsie. In 1942, when Flanagan relocated to Smith, in Northampton, Massachusetts, with her stepchildren, she was unaware that her appointment caused a furor on the campus. Many of the faculty opposed the idea of a non-academic theater department and were annoyed that they had had no say in the selection of the new dean. Flanagan did not fit the staid image the college promoted in faculty members. She enjoyed easygoing, informal relations with the students in contrast to the reserved tradition other faculty members encouraged. Flanagan found herself surrounded by supporters and detractors. Those who worked closely with her were impressed with her ability and intelligence. It was a debate that continued throughout her tenure at Smith.

In 1944, Flanagan began to experience the early symptoms of Parkinson's disease. Upon her retirement from Smith in 1952, she returned to Poughkeepsie. For many years, she enjoyed her retirement: reading, seeing plays, keeping up a large correspondence, and visiting with friends. An automobile accident in 1963, however, necessitated her admission into a nursing home. During her last days, her son Frederic, who had long suffered from bouts of depression, committed suicide. Flanagan was never told. Following her death on July 23, 1969, a memorial service was held at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in Lincoln Center.