The Go-Getter Who Built the Gnu Theatre

Meet Jeff Seymour: actor, director, writer, producer, designer, acting teacher, builder. It’s all in evidence at his Gnu Theatre in North Hollywood, where Seymour is staging Rafael Lima’s “El Salvador.”

Four years ago, the space was a deli, with a house and a garage next door. Seymour’s first impression: No way.

“But then I realized the space between the house and theater could be converted to a patio, the back yard could be used for set storage/work area, the garage could be a dressing room,” he said.

“I took a few measurements and would stare at them, convincing myself it could work. Then I’d come here at night and pace it off with this paper in my hands--like a treasure map--saying, ‘OK, here’s where the audience will sit. . . .’ ”

Before long, Seymour was living in the adjacent house and beginning his theater renovation.

“I’m a builder,” he said. “My friend’s a contractor-builder. So I designed it and the two of us built it in 2 1/2 months. We gutted the interior, then built the basic structure: the walls, the risers.

“We tore out the ceiling to accommodate the lighting, soundproofed the (Magnolia) Boulevard wall, refurbished the seats, put up the lighting grid, beefed up the air conditioner. And (partner) Elizabeth Reilly did all the painting.”

Seymour, 31, doesn’t see anything unusual about this.

“I’ve always built things,” he said. “When I was a kid growing up in Virginia, you built tree forts and took apart lawn mowers. You made go-carts, and when you were old enough you worked on cars. I never had any schooling in it; I guess I just have a knack.”

Indeed. The theater, a well-proportioned, immaculate 50-seater, has also managed to lend itself to very different (and different-looking) projects in the last few years, including “Best Wishes,” “Say Goodnight, Gracie,” “Brothers,” “Jitters” and now “El Salvador.” Seymour designed and built the sets for every one.

“I love remodeling and set design,” he said, “but I really do it because I can’t afford to pay somebody else. The other reason I build sets is that it keeps my mind off of other stuff. I’ve found the physical labor is very therapeutic. I literally don’t have time to worry.”

One thing he did allow himself to worry about was the effect of “El Salvador,” a bristling, macho, often profane piece about six journalists covering the war in Central America (where playwright Lima was a reporter in the early ‘80s).

“Sure it was a risk,” Seymour said. “For the first time, I wrote an open letter to our mailing list (which numbers 3,300), stating that this was the strongest play we’d ever done, but something that should not be missed.”

The director believes that such risky projects will be the first casualties of Actors’ Equity’s 99-Seat Actors’ Theatre Plan (which will impose strict guidelines on Waiver theaters as of Oct. 3).

“It’s not just a matter of seven-person casts,” he said. “It’s taking on material like this. I’m a director, but I’m a businessman too.

“These rules and guidelines are going to make it harder for me to work. I’m going to think, ‘Well, this is an awfully strong show. If we don’t get incredible reviews, it may be over.’ So what do I do? Go with smaller casts, people with TV-Q?”

He shrugged. “All I know is I’m not going to go out of business,” he said. “Particularly when I’ve worked as hard as I have to make this theater what it is. I never work an actor over four hours.

“We’re very good about working around their schedules. There are perks, comps. We give them gas money. I told the guys (in “Salvador”) if they got Critics’ Choice in The Times, I’d put in a (donated) Jacuzzi for them. I just did.”

He said that other producers may have exploited their actors and squandered huge production budgets. “It doesn’t have to be that way. For this play, I’ve got a working video recorder, an editing machine, a field camera--it’s a dummy but was a real one once--400 cassette tapes, an iguana, great sound effects. I have a mailing list, programs to print. I did the whole thing for $2,500.”

“Theater is my life,” he said seriously. “I love what I do. But I’m a slave to the business. From the moment I wake up till the minute I go to bed, all I do is work on this theater. Either work on it physically, or work on the next project, worry about publicity, answer the phone (for reservations). I think my living next door is one of the reasons for its success: I’m on top of it; I’m always here.”

Every show night, Seymour opens the box office, puts out the parking sign, does a cleaning spot-check, greets people, seats them--and at least once a week, views the play from the light booth. He believes his involvement works to the actors’ advantage.

“After seeing a show on its feet, it’s fun to say, ‘What can we do to make it more interesting?’ I mean, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, but who wants to be in a show and just go by the numbers every night?

“I always tell the actors, ‘I don’t care if the show’s been running for months. The people coming tonight are seeing it for the first time.

“I call them ninja actors, and I tell them, ‘Ninja actors do it every night.’ You can’t always knock the ball over the fence. But the idea is that you should try to serve it up every time.”

Sometimes, he too gets the yen to serve it up: “Are you kidding? It kills me that I’m not up there. But I’m understudying three of the roles, so I’ll be going on soon.

“I want to put together a film production company. I’ve written a couple of scripts. I teach classes at the theater. So I’ve got a lot of artistic venting going on around here; I’m not going hungry. But yes, I want everything. I want it fast, I want it yesterday.

“I just have to be patient.”