Rosemary Orlando, actor and director, is not only one of the most talented theater artists in the Tampa Bay area, she's also one of the few who have worked for such late lamented stages as the Playmakers, the Tampa Players, The Loft, The Alice People and the Warehouse (where she was also artistic director).
But unlike most of the local thespians who started their professional careers in the mid-1970s, the 50-something Orlando is still active, having only weeks ago turned in a stunning performance in Stageworks' Brighton Beach Memoirs. As Blanche in Brighton Beach, Orlando was a not-quite-defeated widow, mostly broken by life but still capable of allowing a spark of hope into her sad eyes. Other notable performances in the last few years have been in The Sisters Rosensweig, where she was the world travel-addicted Pfenni, and in Gorilla Theatre's Talking Heads, where she was the crabbed and spiteful British Marjory. After seeing Brighton Beach, I knew that I wanted to interview Orlando, and when we sat down at a café in Temple Terrace one afternoon, I was delighted to discover a relaxed and candid woman, devoted to practicing her craft in the Bay area, however limited the theater scene here might be. She also knows more Bay area theater history than just about anyone — including myself. In a hour or so of conversation, I learned a lot.
Her professional acting career began almost immediately after her 1974 graduation from the USF theater program. At USF, she was involved in an avant-garde version of Alice in Wonderland that garnered a cult following and earned the student company the name "The Alice People." The group, out of college, found a home in a Sulphur Springs building, and its 150 seats were often filled. After about four years, the company moved to a spot on Fletcher Avenue, where it produced Ionesco and Pirandello and "a lot of fun things," and then relocated to the Falk Theatre as resident company for the University of Tampa. But Orlando and her then-boyfriend Jeff Norton were interested in bigger fish — so they moved to New York where Orlando's work for an industrial design magazine was so taxing, there was no time for her to audition. After a year and a half, both she and Norton had had enough, and they returned to the Bay area. Orlando quickly found work teaching at Shorecrest Prep in St. Petersburg and then at USF, where she continues to run classes on "Voice, Body and Improvisation." And she acted all over Tampa: in Footlight Frenzy; Talking With; Dusa, Fish, Stas & Vi (she was Dusa); Breaking the Code and The Belle of Amherst. She also performed in industrial films, and did voiceovers for radio.
She was playing Emily Dickinson in Belle when Patrick Doyle saw her and asked her out. "We went out," she said, "we got married, and he wanted to start a theater." With her father's help, Orlando and Doyle bought a warehouse in Tampa's Channel District, and the Warehouse Theatre was born. The area, said Orlando, was a desert: "No condos, no nothin'." Orlando became artistic director, acted and directed, and Doyle designed sets and performed. To help pay for the building, the couple rented out smaller spaces to visual artists and a large space to the Tampa Ballet. But when Orlando and Doyle were divorced — she says she was "emotionally shattered" — that was the end of the Warehouse. For a time, Orlando didn't act — "I was a mess" — but earned an income for herself and her two daughters by buying and selling real estate. But talent needs to express itself, and in 1998 Orlando played Glorie in Grace and Glorie at Stageworks. Since then, she's been acting, directing and teaching — and the Bay area theater scene has reaped the benefit.
So how, from her position as a theater veteran, does she evaluate the current state of Bay area theater? "I'm hoping that it's on a rebound," she said. "I'm really, really, really hoping that. I think that a lot of the local companies took a hit when the [Tampa Bay] Performing Arts Center came in. Because I was one of the local companies, and I saw that people who would give their money or come, instead of coming to the Playmakers or The Alice People, would go to the performing arts center." But the fact that Stageworks' Brighton Beach and Sisters Rosensweig played to sold-out houses leads her to think that attention is returning to the smaller theaters. And she's personally at peace with the idea of only acting in a few shows a year: "I think when I was younger, that's all I wanted to do. Now I don't mind having a break." Still, she doesn't think that Tampa is the place for a young and ambitious college theater program graduate: "If you want to do films, go to L.A., if you want to do theater, go to New York." But don't stay in Tampa, she said. Not if you care more about the theater than the beach. And if you do stay in the area, don't think you'll make a living from acting: "I think you have to teach."
Near the end of our conversation, I asked Orlando about local theater artists who were significant in her life. She said it was Dale Rose, formerly at USF, who taught her the essentials of acting, and Herb Shore, also of the university, who taught her to direct. She thinks Karla Hartley of TBPAC is "a wonderful director: just a good eye and a good soul … I'd work with her any day." Other directors that she admires include Nancy Cole and David O'Hara. Among actors, "I adore Jeff Norton. And I know him, but I just love to watch him. … Jeff always brings something different. And he's also a physical actor, which I respect." Finally, she said she likes Brian Shea and Dawn Truax, with whom she acted in Medea: "She's subtle."
So is Orlando. As she just showed again in Brighton Beach, her eye for detail is astonishing, and her ability to convincingly physicalize a character is remarkable. There are a few other actors in the area who can turn in a dazzling performance, but there's none more talented. Look for her on stages to come.
This article appears in Jun 11-17, 2008.