Mr. Burrows and the Duluth Playhouse

My mother (Heath Finch Morton) grew up in Chicago and graduated from The Goodman Theatre there before moving to Duluth. She was extremely active in the Duluth Playhouse as a director, and occasionally as an actor. She cast (basically typecast) Mr. Burrows in several plays, and he was, of course, delightful. He and my parents were close friends, and Bob was often at our house, on Third Street near 36th Ave. East – not far from the home he bought from Len and Karen Griffith on Fourth Street. My two older brothers and sister were also his students. I last saw him at my parents’ home, at a small gathering for close friends and relatives, after my wedding reception many years ago.

Mr. Burrows was the lead in “Romanoff and Juliet”; my mother the director. He played “the General.” (Hence the distinctive hat Mr. Burrows is wearing in the photo.) The play was a spoof on “Romeo and Juliet” set in the Cold War, written by and starring Peter Ustinov on stage and then on screen.

Mr. Burrows never directed a play at the Duluth Playhouse. He was always on the acting side. At that time the directors were professionals (trained/paid). The actors were local amateurs, and they were often very good and loved theater! I thought the shows were wonderful. I feel it was almost always a full house. I spent a lot of pleasant and interesting time at the theater backstage and at rehearsals as a little girl, tagging along with my mom.

My mom cast Mr. Burrows in roles that required a Mr. Burrows-type character. In some ways (and I say this lovingly and admiringly), Mr. Burrows was on stage every day. He had a certain persona, as you well know. This everyday persona translated easily to the stage in certain roles, where he, one might say, played himself more expansively. In terms of natural theatrical mechanics, Mr. Burrows had a clear, expressive voice that carried to the back of the theater, passion, ease of movement, comfort in front of crowds, deep love of the arts/theater, good timing for maximum effect, unfailing humility in taking direction, experience in working with disparate groups in collaborative endeavors that are ephemeral – you have nothing; you have something (a performance); and then it’s over. On to the next.

I recall a little anecdote my mother shared with me. At rehearsal one evening, when the script called for Mr. Burrows to take off his shoes and recline on a chaise with his feet toward the audience, my mom noticed that one of his socks had a noticeable hole on the sole. She asked if he could wear that pair during the run of the show. He laughed and happily obliged, remarking that most of his socks had holes.

I can picture him, at rehearsals, when he wasn’t on stage, sitting at the back of the darkened theater correcting essays until his next cue.

Click here to see a photo of Heath Finch Morton and Mr. Burrows, taken in the 1960s.

Because there wasn’t a pool of professional actors in Duluth at that time, my mom tended to typecast people she knew or noticed, those who already had the characteristics needed for a particular role. (For example, I remember noticing her watching an animated checkout lady at the grocery store when we were waiting in line, and, when it was our turn, asking the woman if she would consider trying out for an upcoming play. I had an excellent English teacher in junior high school – a flighty, bird-like, diminutive, somewhat high-strung older woman – whom my mother cast in roles calling for just those traits, and I can picture Miss M flitting around the stage in small, quick steps with nervous fingers.)

---------------

Mr. Burrows’s career metamorphosis from music teacher to history/English teacher, which I learned of from the website, is indeed remarkable. I had always known of his deep interest/involvement in music – he was a good friend of Miss Ruth Alta Rogers (my elderly, excellent long-time piano teacher, who was also organist at Pilgrim Congregational Church on Fourth St.). He was active in Matinee Musicale. Had a deep, rich singing voice. But I knew him only after he had moved on to a distinguished career as a history/English teacher.

My three older siblings and I “had Burrows” (the course and the teacher were uniquely conflated!) from the late ‘50s to my graduation in ’70.

[My father] was an amateur classical scholar his whole life – this was his passion (with golf/skiing just behind). It was this that Bob Burrows and he particularly had in common and appreciated in one another. For both, the Peloponnesian War or the War of the Roses was far more real and present in thought than WWII or Vietnam. It made for lively dinner conversations situated in Sparta, Gaul, Edinburgh, the Silk Road. My mother was more literature than history, and that completed the circle of many pleasant evenings. She was particularly gracious and loving and I think Mr. Burrows was quite at home with them, where no one was self-conscious or needing to be witty, but just himself.

Mr. Burrows with Leslie Morton Crecelius, August 1974

Leslie Morton Crecelius
Newton, MA
Duluth East '70

Home