A Critic's View

For many years, Ashton had a sweet deal with a sympathetic landlord. When he lost his space a couple of years ago, however, financial issues became pressing. The Avenue had always produced a mix of plays, with a focus on humor. This year, Ashton undertook the production of Mary Zimmerman's critically acclaimed Metamorphoses, a play with difficult and expensive technical requirements, including a huge water-filled pool. The production attracted rave reviews from Denver critics, large audiences and standing ovations. It decisively reaffirmed the level of skill, dedication and talent that exist at the Avenue. But Ashton says the theater is still on the cusp financially, and since nonprofits have more sources of funding than for-profit organizations, he may need to turn nonprofit to survive. "We are in flux," he says. "It takes a lot of money to build a theater."

And yet Ashton maintains that this is the most exciting time he's seen in his 33 years in Denver theater. He cites Walton's efforts at Curious, the sheer number of local companies and the amount of original work being done, as well as the fact that the Colorado Theatre Guild is becoming more professional and helping groups cooperate with each other in the interest of mutual survival and growth.

"Denver has always felt like a garden to be tilled and taken care of," says playwright and director Terry Dodd. He, too, sees hopeful signs for the future. He was particularly energized by the recent Playwrights Showcase organized by Red Rocks Community College's Pamela Mencher at the Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities, which he hopes will eventually make this area a center for Western playwrights.

"I do love this town," says Shadow's Nickelson, "and that's why I'm not giving up. We're not going anywhere. Until all the wheels break on this wagon, we are going to be here."

Brett Aune describes the process of preparing for his role as van Gogh. He remembers asking a curator from the Denver Art Museum how the painter had carried himself, something Aune obviously couldn't learn from books or reproductions. The curator, who could easily have discussed the oils the artist used and the number of bristles on his brushes, was stymied. Finally, Aune found a sentence saying that after van Gogh had cut off his ear, he began to favor that side of his head. "I just started thinking, walk around and see what that feels like," says Aune. "Maybe it meant he's got a hunch in the shoulder; he wants to hide the fact he's cut off his ear because he's ashamed. That developed into a physicality, with one shoulder higher than the other, and eventually it transformed into this lumbering cranky gait."

Aune is aware that his quest to make a living in Los Angeles may force him into commercials, though his hope is to become a working character actor: "One of those guys, you turn on the TV, and you go, I know I've seen that guy a hundred times before, but I don't know who it is." But his attachment to Denver is clear, and so is his commitment to working on a stage. With any luck, Denver will eventually provide the stimulus and stability to keep actors like Aune in town.