The scant facts: Ott's four-year contract is up for renewal next year and one of its clauses states she must give a year's notice before leaving. She spent the past three months in Kansas City, directing a production of Living Out. She blew into town for four days, announced she was giving her one-year notice, and left the country on vacation. Managing Director Ben Moore also split. As did Marty Taucher, the board member picked to chair the new artistic-director search committee.
"Frankly, this did come as something of a surprise," said Rep communications director Cynthia Fuhrman. "She had been playing it pretty close to the vest." Just three months ago, in this very column, Ott was talking about what she expected to do at the Rep over the next five years. (Ott, Moore, and Taucher could not be reached for comment.)
Ott's resignation letter isn't much help in divining her motives, saying only, "There are several opportunities that have been presented to me that I wish to explore." (Compare that cryptic bit of non-explanation with, for example, this clear and helpful sentence from a recent On the Boards press release: "Diane Ragsdale will be leaving her position as managing director of OtB in order to assume a post at the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation in New York City." Thanks for explaining yourself, Diane, and good luck.)
Without a good official explanation, we are forced to rely on the venerable tradition of reporting wild gossip. The theater grapevine (in this case, actors, Rep employees, and high-ranking employees of other theaters) is peddling several stories: that Ott was originally hired for her good work in San Francisco but has been fired for failing to direct anything remarkable since; that she got fed up with a stifling and conservative board; that the Rep's working environment has become too toxic for her to continue her charade of leadership; that she is too aggressive and straightforward for simpering Seattle; that she is leaving for personal reasons; and that the alien planet that sent her to study awkward cocktail-party conversation has recalled her mission.
Desperate for better information, I thought I'd try a little old-fashioned bribery. The other day, I sauntered up to the Rep ticket office and pulled a $5 bill out of my shirt pocket.
"My friend Mr. Lincoln here has some questions about Sharon Ott," I said offhandedly. "Would any of you like to talk to Mr. Lincoln?"
One of the ticket officers nodded and I handed him the fiver.
"Why is she leaving?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said, pocketing Mr. Lincoln. "I heard that there are several opportunities that have been presented to her that she wishes to explore--but that's strictly off the record."
