- A Brief History of Theatre of the Unemployed – By Don Orr Martin
Our troupe came together organically and by serendipity during a time of economic recession and political and cultural turmoil. We were an unusual, evolving group of mostly white, creative, working-class, young adults who wanted our perspectives to be heard. Our hard-working collective created or produced 17 plays on a shoestring from 1975 until 1981 . . . Participating in the radical political and cultural upheavals of the late 1960s and early ’70s, we developed a love of collective performance as a resource for personal and institutional transformation . . . critical thinking and resistance to oppression.
- A Ride on a Trustafarian Sailboat – By Joe Tougas
I was just getting set up for some focused work with the One Shot sign paint, my paper pattern, and my brushes, all laid out on my workbench. Without warning, there was a series of taps on the shop door. It was not an aggressive banging like you would use to wake the occupants of a house on fire. It was more like the friendly beeping that Northwesterners use to greet friends while driving down the street. It was a “shave and a haircut” rhythm. I put down my brush and went to the door to see what was going on. It was my friend Trip, a happy-go-lucky guy who was a frequent visitor on that bustling section of 4th Avenue . . . “Listen bro, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event—a meteorological trifecta. The tide is just right for sailing out to Hope Island, going out in the morning and coming back in the afternoon. Wind speed and direction are perfect, and this sunshine, my god! . . .”
- Acres of Clams – By Joe Tougas
The message of the song resonated with a sense of abundance and generosity that made an impression on young people . . . That sense of abundance was also captured by another phrase from Indigenous culture, popular with tour guides and waterfront developers: “When the tide goes out, the table is set.” You can imagine how that sentiment would be received by young people from back east or California ending up in Olympia and hearing stories of going down to the beach and coming back with a gunny sack full of free seafood delicacies.
- Funding Social Change Work: the Community Sustaining Fund – By Anna Schlecht
In the 1980s, local activists found the need to go beyond bake sales to create a more reliable form of funding for the many social change projects underway in Olympia. And Paul Cienfuegos had ideas of how to do it . . . How can we raise money collectively and sustainably through our own progressive activist community . . . how could we fund that good work?
- The Sauna, the Goddess, and the Mushrooms – By Joe Tougas
For several years in the ’70s, the folks at Cold Comfort hosted what they called a Harvest Festival . . . One of the highlights of each of these gatherings was firing up the sauna . . . “I was standing in the shadows, observing the scene as the cloud of smoke and steam began to dissipate and the circle of joyous celebrants around the altar began to reassemble. I saw the most amazing sight. One of the glorious bodies stepped into the candle-lit circle and stood for a moment lit by the sparks from the holy fire . . .”
- A Fantasic Odyssey in Music – By Connie Bunyer
I arrived in the spring [of 1981] and didn’t really have a plan, just hoped the universe would take care of me. I had my guitar and my flute, headed to Percival Landing, and put out a hat. usking was slow that time of year, but a wonderful woman came by and offered to let me play in her coffee shop for tips and snacks: first gig, Café Intermezzo.
Our troupe came together organically and by serendipity during a time of economic recession and political and cultural turmoil. We were an unusual, evolving group of mostly white, creative, working-class, young adults who wanted our perspectives to be heard. Our hard-working collective created or produced 17 plays on a shoestring from 1975 until 1981 . . . Participating in the radical political and cultural upheavals of the late 1960s and early ’70s, we developed a love of collective performance as a resource for personal and institutional transformation . . . critical thinking and resistance to oppression.
I was just getting set up for some focused work with the One Shot sign paint, my paper pattern, and my brushes, all laid out on my workbench. Without warning, there was a series of taps on the shop door. It was not an aggressive banging like you would use to wake the occupants of a house on fire. It was more like the friendly beeping that Northwesterners use to greet friends while driving down the street. It was a “shave and a haircut” rhythm. I put down my brush and went to the door to see what was going on. It was my friend Trip, a happy-go-lucky guy who was a frequent visitor on that bustling section of 4th Avenue . . . “Listen bro, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event—a meteorological trifecta. The tide is just right for sailing out to Hope Island, going out in the morning and coming back in the afternoon. Wind speed and direction are perfect, and this sunshine, my god! . . .”
The message of the song resonated with a sense of abundance and generosity that made an impression on young people . . . That sense of abundance was also captured by another phrase from Indigenous culture, popular with tour guides and waterfront developers: “When the tide goes out, the table is set.” You can imagine how that sentiment would be received by young people from back east or California ending up in Olympia and hearing stories of going down to the beach and coming back with a gunny sack full of free seafood delicacies.
In the 1980s, local activists found the need to go beyond bake sales to create a more reliable form of funding for the many social change projects underway in Olympia. And Paul Cienfuegos had ideas of how to do it . . . How can we raise money collectively and sustainably through our own progressive activist community . . . how could we fund that good work?
For several years in the ’70s, the folks at Cold Comfort hosted what they called a Harvest Festival . . . One of the highlights of each of these gatherings was firing up the sauna . . . “I was standing in the shadows, observing the scene as the cloud of smoke and steam began to dissipate and the circle of joyous celebrants around the altar began to reassemble. I saw the most amazing sight. One of the glorious bodies stepped into the candle-lit circle and stood for a moment lit by the sparks from the holy fire . . .”
I arrived in the spring [of 1981] and didn’t really have a plan, just hoped the universe would take care of me. I had my guitar and my flute, headed to Percival Landing, and put out a hat. usking was slow that time of year, but a wonderful woman came by and offered to let me play in her coffee shop for tips and snacks: first gig, Café Intermezzo.