Feature: Remembering one of DC Theatre's Visionaries Jerry Whiddon

This past week the DC theatre community lost one of its visionaries with the passing of Artistic Director/Director/Performer/Mentor Jerry Whiddon at age 77.

For twenty years Jerry served as the Producing Artistic Director Of Round House Theatre. The company was born out of Street 70 which Jerry helped start in 1970. In total Jerry directed 23 productions at Round House Theatre including Our Town with Pat Carroll. That production opened the theatre’s current space in Bethesda. As a performer, some of Jerry’s favorite Round House roles onstage included An Almost Holy Picture, The Weir, and Uncle Vanya receiving multiple Helen Hayes Award nominations across acting and directing categories.

While Round House Theatre was Jerry’s artistic base, he also acted and/or directed at many theatres across the region, including Adventure Theatre, Arena Stage, Bay Theatre, Everyman Theatre, Folger Theatre, the Kennedy Center, Olney Theatre, Studio Theatre, and Theater J, as well as Off and Off-Off Broadway.

There is no good way for me to sum up what Jerry did in and for our community. He meant so much to so many people and his body of work will always be awe inspiring.

When I heard of Jerry’s passing, my first thought was what his legacy might be, so I have asked a few people who worked with Jerry over the years to help answer that question. They have also written about what Jerry meant to them personally. Among the participants are a sound designer who Jerry gave his first design and composing job to, performers who shared the stage with him, a performer whom he directed, and artistic directors (including his two successors at Round House Theatre) who had the utmost respect for him on all levels.

To say that Jerry Whiddon will be missed by this community is a huge understatement. His love and passion for his craft will never be forgotten by anyone.

What follows are some remembrances of Jerry by some people who knew him the best. The words speak for themselves.

James Gardiner (Performer)- Jerry was someone I looked up to a great deal as a young actor. And he loved actors! I had the privilege of working with him twice—once in college on a production of The Crucible and once professionally on Winnie the Pooh at Adventure Theatre. The thing I loved most about Jerry as a director is that he gave big notes. Most directors I worked with gave what I call “band-aid notes.” But Jerry would give you a note that got to the core of a character in a way that forced you to dig deeper and ultimately reframe things to make the work more truthful. Yes, even on a children’s production of Winnie the Pooh. That degree of thoughtfulness is rare.

As an actor, he gave what I consider to be the greatest performance I’ve ever seen on a D.C. stage, in Studio Theatre’s 2008 production of Blackbird.

He’ll be remembered not only as an extraordinary artist, but as someone who poured his heart into this community and left an indelible mark on all of us lucky enough to have known him.

Kimberly Schraf and Craig Wallace (Performers)- We met in a production of The Misanthrope that Jerry was in at the “Bushy Drive” space 30 years ago. It was the beginning of our relationship as well as our friendship with Jerry and his family. There was always a twinkle in his eye or his smile. And then this gruff, sardonic humor. It was a tantalizing combination. And he made you feel like the smartest person in the room (when actually he was).

Imagine all of the actors and directors whose work Jerry shaped and sharpened over the course of his career. He challenged us to tackle the actor’s job with gusto and with joy; to deep-dive into the nitty-gritty of each moment; to pursue truth brazenly. We know we’re different actors because we worked with him. That’s a piece of his legacy.

Joy Zinoman (Founding Artistic Director of Studio Theatre)- I knew Jerry in 3 different ways. Most recently, I acted WITH him in the Roundhouse production of Uncle Vanya featuring four Artistic Directors in the cast. I played his devoted sister-in-law which was very easy.

Before that I hired him at The Studio Theatre to play Ray in the very difficult and controversial play, Blackbird. Only an actor of his immense charm, charisma and sheer talent could have pulled off that child abuser and made us understand him and care.

Originally, we were two of the Founding Artistic Directors responsible for the establishment and growth of the mid-sized theatre movement in the DMV. By the choice of work and consistent quality of the acting, Jerry Widdon and the theatre he led elevated the artistry of the Washington theatre. For this and for the humanity he brought to the stage as an actor, he will long be remembered. 

Ari Roth (Former Artistic Director of Theater J)- Jerry Whiddon, of course, was a mentor to so many in the profession; to actors, directors, designers; interns and staff. And he was also a Role Model Artistic Director to other AD’s coming up in the field, like me. He showed how one could maintain one’s artistry and institutional leadership, with an eye toward box office, ensemble morale, and audience connection – and he did that all by being completely himself, Authentically Jerry. 

Once he built those two great buildings for Round House – in Bethesda and Silver Spring (that very important black box) – Jerry started spreading more of his artistic talent to other theater companies, including a half dozen engagements at Theater J where he directed Neil Simon’s Lost In Yonkers (with the late great Tana Hicken and Holly Twyford) and The Odd Couple (with a cavalcade of male stars including Rick Foucheux, J. Fred Shiffman, Delaney Williams, Paul Morella, Michael Willis and Marcus Kyd, alongside Lise Bruneau and Helen Pafumi), and David Mamet’s Speed the Plow (with Peter Birkenhead, Danton Stone, and Megan Covington). Jerry directed world premieres as well, including a workshop staging of Jon Spelman’s The Prostate Dialogues, and he headed up a star-studded experiment world premiere, acting in my adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull, a kind of homage Luis Malle’s Vanya on 42nd Street which we called The Seagull on 16th Street – he was our Trigorin opposite Naomi Jacobson’s Arkadina, which all kind of got overwhelmed in the mind’s recesses by Aaron Posner’s far more audacious adaptation a year later, Stupid F**king Bird.

So, there’s plenty of bittersweet in all these memories of deeply heartfelt collaborations, many of which turned out great with great reviews, but not always, and not always were they box office gold. Sometimes they were wistful experiences – even in the moment – as we were fully aware that, for all the aspiration, we were collectively going to come up short of what we hoped would be our brass ring. But Jerry knew that terrain so well as an artist and artistic leader; the comedy and the tragedy; the fulfilling and the unrequited.

Jerry was the consummate theater pro in my eyes, moving elegantly through space on stage, and amid a crowd on opening night or in greeting artists, staff and board at a first rehearsal.  We all looked up to him.  We all wanted to have his class, his hardscrabble humor, and his easy wisdom.  He was Washington’s consummate artistic producing Leading Man.

Michael J. Bobbitt (Former Artistic Director of Adventure Theatre)- There are people whose presence in your life changes the way you walk through the world. For me, Jerry Whiddon was one of those people. He had that rare combination of grace and rigor — a leader who shaped not only performances, but people.

I first met Jerry in the charged, creative air of Adventure Theatre and Round House Theatre — spaces where imagination and theatricality met craft, and where Jerry’s insistence on truth shaped generations of artists. He believed that theatre was not a place to escape the world, but to understand it more deeply. Working alongside him felt like sitting at the feet of a master carpenter — watching him measure, refine, and carve meaning from the raw timber of story.

Jerry was a builder — of theatres, of ensembles, of possibility, but his true legacy was in the rehearsal room: in the way he lifted actors to be braver, directors to be sharper, and communities to be more connected. He saw the stage not as a mirror, but as a bridge.

I remember him most in those quiet moments — standing in the back of a darkened theatre, eyes fixed on the stage, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth and occasionally a belly ache of laughter. You could feel his love of the art form radiate through the room. He made you want to do your best work, not for applause, but for integrity.

Jerry’s legacy lives in the hundreds of artists who carry his lessons in their bones — the rhythm of his patience, the music of his precision, the poetry of his kindness. His life was a masterclass in devotion: to craft, to people, to purpose. I loved this artist (with a capital “A”). I am profoundly grateful to have walked some of that creative path with him on more than 15 projects.

Blake Robison (Jerry’s Artistic Director successor at Round House Theatre)-

Jerry’s Round House was always an artist-forward organization.  Essentially, he built an Actors Theatre of Greater DC.  I will remember him as a committed artist who passed the baton with grace and support.

Ryan Rilette (Round House Theatre’s current Artistic Director)- Jerry believed in the ability of arts to build and sustain community, and that’s exactly what he built at Round House. We wouldn’t exist were it not for his decades of hard work. He was a great supporter of local artists and a generous and collaborative artist. He was also a warm-hearted and generous guy. I will miss his friendship, his laughter, and his encouragement. I was lucky enough to work with him as a director and as a fellow actor and loved every minute of both experiences. I will miss him greatly.

Matthew M. Nielson (Composer/Sound Designer)- Jerry was still the Artistic Director at Round House (back when it was still a round house) when I graduated college and was floundering, unsure of my path. I quickly became part of the Round House family, building scenery by day and running shows at night. I discovered my love of sound when Danisha Crosby plunked me in the sound op seat for one production (Three Days of Rain, directed by Jerry), and that moment started me down the path to becoming an audio engineer.

The first show I ever designed on my own was Underneath the Lintel — a one-man show featuring Jerry in the Silver Spring black box, directed by Jane Beard.

The first show I ever composed for was Nixon’s Nixon, which Jerry directed. I couldn’t find a piece of music that did what I wanted, so I wrote one and snuck it into the show. Jerry played along and built a transition around that piece of music. That small act of trust opened another creative door I didn’t even know I wanted to walk through.

Looking back on these formative moments, I realize Jerry was there for every major step that shaped who I am today. I love theatre because of Jerry Whiddon and the environment he created at Round House. I’m a sound designer and composer because Jerry Whiddon believed in me and gave me my first opportunities. I learned how to be a collaborative artist from the community of people he brought together. So much of what I do, why I do it, and who I love doing it with are direct results of Jerry Whiddon. Every path I’ve followed since can be traced back, in some way, to him and the world he built at Round House.

If I had to say something about Jerry’s legacy, it would be this: he was a visionary who helped shape DC theatre in ways we’re still feeling today. He ran a theatre that changed how people thought about what DC theatre could be — big, ambitious, human. But what made him special was how personal it always felt. He could fill a room with his energy and vision, yet somehow make every collaborator feel like the most important person there, and every audience member feel like the show was happening just for them. He had this rare gift for making the grand feel intimate and the intimate feel grand.

There’s a phrase he said frequently that was his version of “break a leg.” I was always convinced he said it as much to himself as anyone else, and I still hear it (and say it to myself) in that deep, gravelly voice of his: “Don’t f**k it up!”

Saying “words are not enough” doesn’t seem like enough. Maybe I’ll write a piece of music for him. I’ll try not to f**k it up.

With the permission of Matthew M. Nielson, here is his debut piece of music for a theatrical production. It is befittingly called "Memory" and appeared in Jerry's 2008 production of Nixon's Nixon at Round House Theatre.

Select photos provided by Round House Theatre's Director of Education and longest running staff member Danisha Crosby.

Special thanks to Round House Theatre's royal PR and Partnerships Manager Her Royal Highness Amy "Queenie" Killion for her assistance in coordinating this feature000000000000000000