Charles William Stewart
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Charles William Stewart, 84, husband of the late Jane Ratcliffe Stewart, passed away on August 5, in Overland Park, Kansas. Bill was born on May 22, 1936 in Columbia, Missouri to the late Francis and Edith Payne Stewart.
Bill graduated from Knox College in 1958 and served as a First Lieutenant in the Army. Bill had a deep devotion and passion for the theatre. His career in theater began with a Ford Foundation Grant that offered him the opportunity to intern in theater management at the American Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Connecticut. He went on to act as Managing Director at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park, the Hartford Stage Company, the American Shakespeare Festival Theater, the Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., and the Williamstown Festival Theatre. Bill also taught theater management at Yale University’s School of Drama for several years.
In his retirement, Bill loved to travel and visited many European countries, Mexico, Argentina, Cuba and Morocco. He was an avid reader and movie goer and enjoyed volunteering as a docent at the Folger Shakespeare Library and participating in political campaigns. Bill is survived and will be missed by his twin brother, Robert (Louellen) Stewart and his children Laura (Jeff) Harsch, Melissa Stewart, Jeremy (Mary Ellen) Stewart, and five grandchildren of whom he was very proud; Zachary (Emily), Caitlin and Brenna Harsch, Alexis and Michael Stewart. Funeral arrangements will be private. Donations may be made in Bill’s name to the Hospice Foundation of America https://hospicefoundation.org/ or Folger Shakespeare Library https://www.folger.edu/
Visits: 4
To the family,
Bill was a wonderful colleague, theatre manager and all around great guy. When I was managing director at the Cleveland Play House in the ’80’s and ’90’s he was always available for some sage advice. I have nothing but wonderful memories of Bill. He was one of the early managers in the field and will be missed.
I echo Dean’s remarks. And on behalf of everyone at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park, our condolences to the family. He was an exceptional leader as the regional theatre movement got started and helped it to flourish. Indeed, he will be missed.
Bill was one of my first bosses, early in my career, at The Williamstown Theater Fesstival. He was a great mentor and teacher, in such a complicated field to find work. He was very supportive, took a chance on me, and taught me alot about the business. In my personal, and professional life, all roads lead to Williamstown, and the man who hired me. Sincere condolences to the family, his influence continues to be far reaching…
A great boss. A great guy. Funny and smart and the perfect curmudgeon when necessary. RIP Bill…back with Jane.
Bill was very open to being a mentor to young managers which was rare and much appreciated when I started my career. He also gave me the most sage advice about my work: “Your job as managing director is to get the board to tell YOU what it is you want THEM to do.” Words to live by in this business. Rest in peace my friend and thank you.
My deepest condolences to the family. Bill taught me so much, and he firmly supported our collaborative visions at Hartford Stage throughout our fertile, creative and truly enjoyably collegial partnership in the early 1980’s. If it hadn’t been for him, I would not have learned how to begin to be an artistic director. So for me he was a mentor as well as a partner— which must have been challenging for him. His support for the art form and for artists was utterly inspiring. A guiding star that gave light early and has pointed my way ever since.
I send my deepest sympathy to Bill’s family. As part of his theatre family I feel bereft. When he hired me at Hartford Stage in 1981, I became part of his family and for almost 40 years he’s always been there as teacher, mentor, friend, to answer a question about the American theatre or Shakespeare or just shmooze about life and politics. He was a lovely human being and a consummate theatre professional. it was a joy and an honor to know him.
I loved Bill and called him Chuck, a playful reference to his first name. When I was writing a play and told him I had too many characters, he mimed using a hammer to eliminate them by hitting them one at a time as if they were small beings running around on his desk. Then he turned to me and said, “There. Problem solved,” Although I agree with everything my colleagues at the Hartford Stage said about him, what made me gasp when I got the news of his death and then cry, were those memories of Bill, his playfulness and his joy. As a leader, Bill was charismatic, in an effortless way. He knew “everybody” or it seemed so, yet never was a name dropper or pretentious. Every time after I left the Hartford Stage and saw Bill anywhere—in the lobby of a play in NYC or in the offices of the Actors Theater of Louisville, he would drop to his knees so I could hug him. (I am 4’9”) That is the man I am missing and will for the rest of my life. I know the loss I am feeling and can’t imagine the loss his children and grandchildren, all his friends and family, must be feeling. I send you my love.
Though saddened at Bill’s passing, we are both gladdened to recall the impact he and Jane made on — and the joy they brought to — so many. For Tom, that was a friendship of more than 50 years, dating all the way back to Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park, where Bill introduced Tom to the glamour of theater by assigning him to park cars and run the concession stand. Bill became Tom’s hero: mentor, counselor, boss (at Hartford Stage Company, he gave Tom his first post-university job). Both of us will always treasure Bill’s passion for the theater, vision, kindness, and gloriously dry humor. Such as his unfailingly good advice for those awkward nights when you must go backstage to greet friends in the cast after watching a turkey implode: “That’s not a problem,” Bill would explain. “You just smile and say, ‘Words fail me!’ “
I’m so sorry to hear of Bill’s passing, and send deepest condolences to his family and his theatre family. When I first arrived at Hartford Stage, Bill and Jane helped to make me feel more at home, inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner at their home helped this displaced Minnesotan feel just a bit less lonely. Bill was my boss, but also a friend and though we had lost touch in these past few years, I thought of him often, and fondly. The world is a poorer place without Bill in it!
I only met Bill, through Sally Arteseros, for one day in DC at the Folger Shakespeare Library, and one other day for a short lunch in Alexandia. I don’t think I have ever met a more interesting and gracious man. Life is short, but love is eternal.
I’m not sure how many folks know how important people like Bill were to the American Regional Theater Movement. But I know that Bill’s contribution was substantial, and all of the theaters and other performing arts organizations where he served (including as a volunteer) were fortunate to have had his impeccable knowledge of, and devotion to live theater. It’s ironic that Bill passed during a pandemic that is sure to blow a hole in a movement he helped to establish.
I was Bill’s executive assistant at Arena Stage (1986 – 88) before my husband and I moved back to the San Francisco Bay Area. Bill was one of the best, and the most professionally distinguished bosses I ever had. Best of all, he treated me like a
colleague, rather than a subordinate. Rare were the times he had me fetching coffee. More common were the days he entrusted me with all the communications between Arena and its board of trustees, as well as management of the playwrights’ and directors’ contracts — something that came in handy when I had plays of my own produced.
My husband Jack enjoyed Bill’s company as much as I, and whenever Bill visited his mother in Redwood City, he managed to visit with us in Marin County. On one visit, we went to Muir Woods. On another, he joined us on a hot, dusty hike up Mount Tamalpais to see an amphitheater performance of “Oliver.” Bill? On a hike? Yep, surprised me, but it shouldn’t have. Never once did he utter the word, “daunting.”