Rent Dispute May Bring Down the Curtain

Here’s a math quiz:

Q: How can $250 in rent get you $50,000 in debt in three years?

A: According to your lease, you were supposed to be paying $1,600 a month.

That’s what happened to the Serendipity Theatre Co., a professional children’s troupe that operates the city-owned Burbank Little Theatre.

The Burbank city attorney sent Serendipity a letter March 20 stating that the company had breached its operating agreement, owes $49,500 in back rent and must pay up by April 19 or move out.

The notice stunned Serendipity’s artistic director, Katy Realista, who maintains that there is simply some kind of misunderstanding.

“We have never received a complaint. And we’ve heard that Burbank loves us, adores us, wants us to stay,” she said. “We’re very confused.”

So are lots of people around Burbank. Among the questions raised: If Realista was paying only what she thought the company could afford, how could she expect the city to allow that when there was a signed lease for a higher amount? If the city was not receiving the rent it expected, why didn’t some official complain about that before now?

And if the city quietly accepted the payments without protest for three years, as it appears happened, does that indicate the city had tacitly agreed to accept the lower rent and cannot now demand payment in full?

Burbank has hired an outside investigator to sort out the problem--although Mayor Bob Kramer would not say who, and expressed confidence that no criminal wrongdoing is suspected.

Mary Alvord is the director of Burbank’s Department of Parks and Recreation, which oversaw the city’s dealings with the theater. Serendipity paid $6,500 in rent over 35 months, she said, while the group’s contract stipulated $1,500 a month in rent, plus a $100 contribution to a capital account each month. Company members concede that they paid only about $250 a month.

“I don’t think anybody’s ever questioned the quality of their productions. It wasn’t as if they didn’t provide the children’s theater part of their obligation,” Alvord said. “But they negotiated this [rent]. It’s not like we made anyone sign on the dotted line.”

Part of the problem is that the woman who did sign on the dotted line three years ago--Jody Davidson--left Serendipity shortly afterward. Realista, a co-founder of Serendipity, inherited the contract and never tried to renegotiate it.

Attorney Vivienne Swanigan-Crenshaw, whose son is a member of Serendipity, reviewed the contract pro bono. She said that since the city accepted the partial payments, there is a contradiction between how the contract was written and how it was enforced. By accepting the lower payments without protest, the city was in effect acquiescing to the lesser amount, that argument goes, which may give Serendipity some legal grounds to protest its pending eviction.

Neither Realista nor the Department of Parks and Recreation employee who oversaw the theater seemed to understand that the Burbank City Council would have to approve any changes to the contract, Swanigan-Crenshaw said.

“Katy is the artistic director,” she said. “She didn’t understand the legalities of things.”

As for the Department of Parks and Recreation, which was responsible for collecting the rent, Alvord would say only that there is “a personnel issue” related to the Serendipity case. She would not elaborate.

The core of the Serendipity company is a 22-member youth troupe, whose members not only act, but also manage all aspects of theater production. Realista also runs classes for about 100 students and a larger summer camp.

Some youth members were so upset by the news that Serendipity might be evicted, they planned to attend Tuesday night’s City Council meeting to speak on the theater company’s behalf.

Jeremy Ronceros, 15, described the company as “basically like a family. . . . I’ve spent some of the best times of my life there.”

But it’s not just the members who will be sad if Serendipity shuts its doors in Burbank--so will the kids who attend the plays every weekend, he said. “I’m just afraid they won’t have anything to go to anymore, they won’t be able to see ‘Cinderella’ on the stage.”

Serendipity puts on four shows per weekend in the 98-seat theater. The current production, “Charlotte’s Web,” is the middle of its season.

While the shows typically sell out, there is not enough money after the cost of sets, costumes and the actors’ pay to cover $1,500 in rent, Realista said.

The company has already dropped its Actors Equity contract to save money, though the adult actors are still paid at lower rates. The youth actors are unpaid. Realista said she has never drawn a salary in her nine years with Serendipity.

If Serendipity had a problem, said Mayor Kramer, they should have come to the council with it three years ago. “I think our position is pretty clear. If you can’t make the rent, then you need to find another location,” he said.

Realista’s position: “How can we possibly pay the rent if we can’t stay and do our shows?”

Therein lies the rub. And the coming weeks will reveal whether Serendipity’s luck has just run out.