The Lifeline Theater occupies a sprawling brick building in Rogers Park, a former energy company substation converted into a mid-sized neighborhood theater. It is a classic example of Chicago's unique brand of theater – a community staple with a long history.
For 42 years, Lifeline has curated award-winning literary adaptations and original works in Chicago. Sitting in the packed 95-seat theater during the spring showing of Nambi E. Kelley's Native Son — which was extended due to high demand — most audience members likely didn't know the theater was in trouble.
But shortly after Native Son was released, Lifeline launched a $200,000 funding campaign to “save its theater,” thus joining the ranks of midsize regional theaters across the country gasping for air.
The problems facing movie theaters like Lifeline didn't actually begin with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. The pandemic has accelerated the crisis, while ushering in a new era in audiences' viewing habits, now dominated by streaming. These rapid changes have forced theaters to reconsider outdated business models.
“It's been known for a long time that the model doesn't work,” said Elissa Duncan, Lifeline's technical director. “Especially the mid-sized theater model. We've been talking about how dangerous it is for mid-sized theater companies in the country.
A familiar refrain across theater companies
Mid-sized theaters like Lifeline have borne the losses from the pandemic more. Major companies relied on endowments. Small storefronts have switched gears or gone dormant, without the burden of space costs and permanent employee salaries.
But theaters with buildings and payrolls found themselves in a similar dilemma as lifelines.
“It's been known for a long time that this model doesn't work,” Lifeline artistic director Elissa Duncan said of the business model used by mid-sized theater companies.
“We own our space,” Duncan said. “We have to pay our mortgage and continue to maintain the building. Some of the (COVID-19) relief funds we were able to raise have helped keep our doors open and helped us continue to do programming, but we also need to upgrade our systems. The building is old.”
The mortgage and building maintenance weren't the only growing costs for Lifeline. The national call for social justice in the wake of the 2020 George Floyd protests has roiled the arts. And in the theater industry, institutions have rushed to address longstanding pay equity for performers and professionals, from actors to set designers. For many years, stage professionals have been underpaid, but raising the wages of every professional working in a production has created insurmountable cost increases for many companies, especially when combined with supply chain shortages that have increased the costs of materials needed for building sets.
“Not only was there pay equity, but there was (diversity, equity and inclusion) and all these things that were really important to us, that we were already doing as an organization,” Duncan said. “However, what that means is that all excise duties have also increased.”
Lifeline is a 42-year-old live theater in Chicago.
For Lifeline, which also had to replace its aging HVAC system to meet post-pandemic reopening requirements, it all added up to a $200,000 gap at the end of fiscal 2024.
Diane Clausen, an associate professor at DePaul University and head of the university's theater management program, said the lifeline's struggles are shared throughout the industry.
Clausen, who works in one of the few American programs that teaches students how to run nonprofit theaters, studied 50 theaters across the country that closed between 2020 and 2023.
“I looked as deeply as possible at the different scenarios, reasons and processes that theaters went through to make the decision to close,” Clausen said. “Because, in my mind, I thought the story being told was very one-dimensional.”
Views of the Lifeline Theater in Rogers Park.
What it confirmed: The problems plaguing theaters began long before the COVID-19 pandemic. While widespread venue closures have had a terrible impact on productions and audiences, the relief funding available has been a boon for some organizations. But now, with its exhaustion, there was a greater reckoning – with a broken model.
The revenue model, described by some as a three-legged stool of philanthropy, corporate support and ticket subscriptions, has languished over the past decade.
Clausen heard similar themes from closed theaters: rising ticket prices making shows accessible to smaller audiences; The decline in philanthropy, as foundations shift away from supporting the arts and toward other causes; Corporate support for the arts, which flourished in the 1990s, has declined.
“When we started the regional theater movement, ticket prices were very nominal,” Clausen said. “So a broader cross-section of our communities can buy subscriptions. This is no longer true.”
Theaters that didn't survive the pandemic also tended to cling to a strong internal focus, meaning those institutions were overly concerned with who was on their board and who was on staff, or they prioritized the institution's survival over meeting the needs of the community, Clausen said.
Lifeline launched a $200,000 funding campaign to “save its theater” shortly after Nambi E. Kelley's Native Son ran.
Courtesy of Jackie Jasperson
However, Clausen's research also points to some common themes among theaters that weathered the storm.
The theaters that survived demonstrated resilience in adaptation and a deep connection to the community. They had a desire to change programming, for example, offering shows and events that could be broadcast during the lockdown period. They hosted youth theater camps. Theaters that own their own venues rent them to companies that do not have venues. They have also created new partnerships – where shows are co-produced and shown in their buildings, reducing production costs for each partner company.
Going forward, Clausen said she expects to see more theater companies expanding into health care partnerships — for example, offering art therapy programs — and expanding training and learning opportunities. She predicts that the American theater industry in the next 20 years will be smaller than it was in 2010, and that companies will continue to offer smaller seasons and cut back programming.
Theater outside the theater
But there is no magic formula. Lifeline did almost all the things Claussen observed in successful theaters, but by late summer it still found itself in the midst of a major financing crisis.
After eight months of work, Elizabeth Robb, Lifeline's new managing director, said the organization is trying a little of everything. Like many Chicago theaters, it has reduced the number of shows per season. Hoping to attract new audiences, it has expanded programming with an emphasis on including diverse voices. The theater presented a playwright adaptation to highlight new works by BIPOC writers. She held theater camps last summer and tends to in-school tutoring programs.
Elizabeth Robb (left), Lifeline's new managing director, said the organization is trying a little of everything to make ends meet.
By mid-August, Lifeline had raised $104,111 — a little more than half of its campaign goal. Donations came in all sizes, with $30,000 raised in July alone largely through grassroots donations of $250 or less from Lifeline audiences and members of the Rogers Park community.
Lifeline has an additional $95,889 – the goal is by December to be able to produce the entire 2024-25 season. The theater company will present a one-man version of the holiday classic A Christmas Carol, from the point of view of Scrooge's friend Jacob Marley. The theater will also produce a Chicago version of H.G. Wells' classic sci-fi novel War of the Worlds, and the family-friendly KidSeries season will feature an adaptation of the novel Leaf by Sandra Dickman.
But even if the campaign achieves its goal, and the 2024-2025 season is a box office success, that may not mean Lifeline is out of the woods.
Lifeline band member and former artistic director Dorothy Milne said the key to sustainability lies in long-term funding – not ticket sales. I used Native Son as an example.
“We are very proud of the production,” Milne said. “It sold really well. It sold above expectations. And it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because you still can't keep up no matter how good we sell. It's really hard.”
One key to sustainability: adding a few major donors to your fundraising pool.
“We try to serve the community and bring art to people without sacrificing the quality of our work,” Rob said. “Maybe that means we're doing a little less as we try to figure out this new ecosystem. We're expanding the programs we're doing and looking at theater in different ways.”
“We're trying.”
Mike Davis is the play-by-play reporter for WBEZ.
