If you've ever watched Frasier or Top Chef Masters, you're familiar with the concept of a TV spinoff: it's when a popular character is given his or her own show, usually in the same vein as the original program. Frasier Crane, for example, was a regular on Cheers before moving to Seattle, and the Top Chef Masters were introduced as judges on the flagship show. The premise of this article (which may, appropriately, develop into its own series) is to feature compelling South Sound characters who deserve their own non-reality TV shows, starting with Aaron Stevens of Broadway Center for the Performing Arts.

If the name Aaron Stevens sounds familiar, it may be you know his output as singer-songwriter for the popular quintet Goldfinch. In classic rock-star style, we screwed up the dates and stood each other up at our first interview. I wish I could tell you our actual first meeting took place at the Viper Room or Skybar, but the commute was too rough. Instead, we met in a utilitarian Broadway Center conference room. Neither he nor I were wearing leather pants, but I won't rule it out for the future.

Stevens is a relatively new hire as Broadway Center program manager. This was not a job he acquired by posting his résumé on Monster.com. "I originally showed up to one of what they call community dialogues," he explains. "They did one - I think was referred to as ‘Urban Dwellers' - which was supposed to be aimed at a younger, hipper audience. Well, I showed up. I'm 37, but I still brought the average age down dramatically." The purpose of this dialogue was to find out why theater audiences skew toward the septuagenarian. Obviously, ticket cost is a factor, but Fischer felt there was limited interest from young people in even cheap or free events. Stevens says, "It pretty much ended up being a conversation between artist Chris Sharp, myself, and David Fischer, our executive director. After this conversation, David invited me to sit on the board."

That lasted until the recession hit and the board focused on fundraising, especially from wealthy donors. Stevens ran a modest window-cleaning business and felt he knew too few high-rollers to approach, so Fischer put him on special projects instead. "There was a project at the Rialto, an all-day festival of gospel acts." That was in 2010. Then Stevens was put in charge of the Fall Free for All, a two-day gratis event with over 50 different acts. Fischer gave Stevens a slice of the budget and asked him to program indie rock bands. "I took the gig," Stevens says simply.

The success of Fall Free for All led to Stevens getting hired part time, then full-time four months ago. "The learning curve for this job is pretty intense," he says. "I had booked plenty of shows, but they were at local bars and the Warehouse. One of my first gigs here (was) what's called APAP (the Association of Performing Arts Presenters) in New York. APAP is the biggest booking conference in America. It's hundreds of agents over the course of a week. You go from crack of dawn till middle of the night." Over dozens of meetings, touring performers and their agents tout their wares, while people like Fischer and Stevens try to persuade those agents to visit their venues. The devil, of course, is in the details. "If a show's coming to Seattle," Stevens explains, "they can't also play Tacoma, because it's too close." Deals evolve via phone calls and emails, and it takes years to land the most coveted performers. "It's amazing how much of this industry is built on relationships," Stevens observes. "It's kind of old-school that way."

His learning process barely slowed when he returned from New York. "I'd worked for myself primarily for the last 15 years," he says. "The Broadway Center has at least 45 full-time staffers. I'm still trying to learn everyone's name. I didn't realize what a big deal the Broadway Center was. We're the largest nonprofit in Tacoma."

Development

Now, the trick to developing a workplace TV comedy or drama is that, unlike most actual workplaces, the stories must vary from week to week. That's why there are so many cop and lawyer shows, and even they're obliged to dramatize the truth. Stevens, however, faces exotic challenges at each new event. "I don't know that I have a typical workday," he admits, though there is at least one recurring duty: "I teach three hours on Monday and three hours on Wednesday as an adjunct artist for School of the Arts. I teach their advanced songwriting class. I don't really know any other organization that would let an employee out of the office for six hours a week to teach, but part of why I was hired as a programming manager was to develop a younger audience. David Fischer's looking way down the road." As with most arts organizations (and, Stevens notes, churches), there's a need to replace aging patrons as they, shall we say, vacate the market.

"One of my first jobs," Stevens recalls, "was to help manage the TEDx event." Communities around the world organize talks and presentations by local visionaries. "One of the highlights for me," he remembers, "was Donald Byrd, a Tony-award nominated choreographer for The Color Purple. He talked about his work on Oklahoma in Seattle last year, which got a lot of criticism." Jud, the villain of that show, was played by an African-American actor. "Byrd talked about why he did things the way he did." Then cellist Paul Rucker donned a hoodie to talk about Trayvon Martin, the black teen who was shot to death by a Florida cop for the crime of running in a hooded sweatshirt.

Unfortunately for the workplace sitcom purposes of this article, Stevens says the Broadway Center is "a fairly well-oiled machine. Not a lot of things go wrong around here, because if they do, it's very, very costly. It affects a lot of people, so if we goof up major on a show, that's a big deal." He does recall a certain dance performance, which he learned only at the last minute included artistic nudity. "It was scheduled for three or four in the afternoon," he remembers. "There were kids' activities going on, a bouncy house on the street - and now, on our stage, we have bare-breasted artistic nudity." Even after numerous warnings, including one from the stage itself, a few patrons complained. Still, Stevens says, "It has been absolutely exhilarating to do this work. I hope to stay here forever. I hope they find me down in the basement when I die."

Dreams of top-rated office hijinks dissolving, I turned to the Center's production stage manager, Mark Thomason. He agreed with Stevens that Center business has to run more smoothly than a day at Dunder Mifflin. The biggest problem Thomason faces is miscommunication with performers' agents. After a long, frustrating email conversation about food restrictions, for example, he was told only after sandwiches were delivered that comedian Wayne Brady is a vegetarian. Um ... that's hardly the makings of a "very special" sweeps episode. So far, I'm sorry to report, no multimillion-dollar sets have collapsed on audience members, no diva fits have been thrown, and no hotel rooms were trashed.

Borrr-ring!

The Fake Show

Instead, in our pitch to ABC Television, we'll be sexing things up. Our show's called SRO, and it's a fast-paced mash-up of Smash and 30 Rock. It's like that great Canadian dramedy Slings and Arrows, only funnier, and yes, it's kind of edgy but also has a heart. (That phrase has to appear in every TV pitch. You can say it in air quotes, but you still have to say it or your WGA membership will be revoked and, more crippling in the short term, you might lose your waitron job at red|seven West Hollywood.) Instead of a thoughtful, mild-mannered, functionary whose biggest concern about this article was that it'd make him "look like an arrogant bastard," Stevens will now be a brash go-getter played by Lost's Matthew Fox. The part of "Dana" Fischer will be played by sitcom vixen Rena Sofer, which should increase the romantic tension considerably. She tested like a maniac with housewives in Boise!

Y'know how Love Boat had C-list guest stars show up every week, right? Well, instead of Robert Urich and Charo, we'll have Kristin Chenoweth and Neil Patrick Harris. Talk about hitting all quadrants! Chenoweth can agonize about being expected to play Mary Magdalene topless in an outré revival of Jesus Christ Superstar, and Harris will perform Washington's first gay wedding during a performance of Così fan tutte. Then Thomason, played on our show by Patton Oswalt, will run around frantically screaming his catchphrase, "That dog won't hunt!" as Sofer's little black dress gets enticingly caught in the fly cables. Booyah!

Meanwhile, the real-world Stevens, Fischer, Thomason, et al. at Broadway Center will go about the quiet, almost trouble-free business of entertaining the South Sound two to four times a week.

BROADWAY CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS, 901 BROADWAY, TACOMA, 253.591.5890, BROADWAYCENTER.ORG

Upcoming Broadway Center Shows

CATHEDRALS
Indie rock in a church featuring Drew Grow & the Pastors' Wives, Goldfinch, Pollens
Friday, Nov. 16, 7:30 p.m., all ages, $16
Immanuel Presbyterian Church, 901 N. J St., Tacoma, 253.591.5894

BARE TACOMA

A cappella holiday concert  with local indie bands Shenandoah Davis, Sean Nelson, Tacoma Choir of the Arts, Luke Stevens, Goldfinch, Colin Reynolds, Elk & Boar,
Hannalee, Eternal Fair, Pretty Broken Things and others
Friday, Dec. 7, 8 p.m., all ages, $16
Immanuel Presbyterian Church, 901 N. J St., Tacoma, 253.591.5894

ZOE KEATING & PORTLAND CELLO PROJECT
Friday, Jan. 25, 7:30 p.m., $29-$39
Rialto Theater, 310 S. Ninth St., Tacoma, 253.591.5894