Fifty Years — The Spirit

By Sarah A. Spitz

Ellen Geer’s earliest memory of the McCarthy Blacklist era—when her father Will Geer was drummed out of Hollywood for refusing to name names before the House Committee on Un-American Activities—is of being chased by school kids with her teenage sister.

“They called us Red Diaper babies. Coming home from school to our sweet Santa Monica house on 26th Street, I remember being chased and my sister pulling me because I couldn’t run fast enough when they were throwing rocks at us. Mama came out with my baby brother in her arms, screaming at them to stop. She knew. She found this place, Topanga, and moved us up here.”

What her mother, actress Herta Ware, knew was that Will’s banishment was going to last a while; and “here” is now considered a jewel of Topanga Canyon life, the beloved Theatricum Botanicum, an outdoor repertory theater center celebrating its 50th anniversary this summer.

Two words define it: family and resilience. A few more express its mission: Shakespeare, education, social activism. And at its core is a place where a family uprooted by the nightmare of America’s Red Scare came to heal, not only themselves but the wider public, through theater and music.

Ellen notes the irony: “We went from being blacklisted and considered the most terrible people in the world in the 1950s, to Papa playing American-asapple-pie Grandpa Walton in the ’70s, and now, a few weeks ago, receiving an award from Congressman Brad Sherman for outstanding service to the community.”

A Brief History

Will was blacklisted in 1951, they sold their house and moved to Topanga, where he put his Master’s degree in botany to practical use growing vegetables and raising chickens to feed the family. He created “Geer Gardens,” a plant nursery and landscaping service, employed only by the brave. Ellen remembers, “They’d hire us [kids] without letting anyone know. Mama told me they only paid in cash, never checks, because they didn’t want their names associated with us.” It was also a family affair. “We all did a lot of piling in the car with shovels to work in Hollywood and fancy places.”

Before long, the Topanga acres they called home became a haven for blacklisted actors and folk singers to gather and practice their arts. Woody Guthrie’s shack, soon to be turned into a museum, is still a highlight of the property.

Will moved to New York for work in 1954 (Actors Equity, unlike the Screen Actors Guild under Ronald Reagan, did not blacklist artists). Actor/director John Houseman introduced Will to Shakespeare, for whom he developed a passion that he instilled in his children. Ellen laughs, remembering that, “Pop always used say, ‘Honey you’ll never have to go to a psychiatrist. All you need to do is read Shakespeare.’ It was true, despite it all; none of us ever needed a doctor.”

Working for several seasons at the American Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford, Connecticut, Will built the first of several Shakespeare Gardens, some with Ellen’s help, at different non-profit theaters across the country where they performed together. The remains of Will and his former wife, Herta, both reside in Theatricum Botanicum’s own Shakespeare Garden. Though they divorced, they remained very close.

With little money coming in, by 1956 the family began dispersing across the country to make a living, working at repertory theaters, sometimes together and sometimes apart. Ellen says, “We all grew up in different places around the country, and after high school, began working in various repertory theaters, where we learned our skills and realized how important theater and education were for life in any era.”

In 1972, things changed. Will became Grandpa Walton on the longrunning TV series “The Waltons.” The family reunited in Topanga after a decade apart. “This land, which was so precious, helped us heal as a family,” Ellen recalled.

Before long, with just a sign posted along the side of the road, weekend gatherings of actors reading Shakespeare and folksingers sharing their songs morphed into Theatricum Botanicum. Initially a private enterprise, upon Will’s death in 1978, the family began the process of securing its non-profit status as an artist-run company. With guidance from her older sister Kate, and help from then Board member John Houseman, plus Ellen’s close friend, MaryAnn Dolcemascolo, and a canyon man they didn’t even know, Oscar McGraw, they learned the ropes of dealing with permitting agencies, going to government meetings, and slowly came out of the mire of some early mishaps regarding building code violations. “People have always showed up for us just when we needed them,” she recalls.

Now, says Ellen, it’s even more a family affair. “We’re four generations on the boards.” She’s still acting and writing for the company, even as she steps back to let her daughter Willow transition into the role of Artistic Director. Ellen’s son designs graphics and is facilities manager, her granddaughter is