New Panida board members welcomed

SANDPOINT — With several fresh perspectives taking leadership roles at the Panida, a new era is ahead for the historic theater.

 Theater officials welcomed new trustees Susan Bates-Harbuck, Sarah Caruso, Regina Mundell, Abby Ullman and Jesus Quintero onto the theater board Monday evening, bringing a wide range of new skills and artistic experience to the table. Combined with the management of new executive director Barry Bonifas, theater supporters believe a host of new ideas and opportunities are down the road for one of Sandpoint’s biggest cultural centerpieces.

The new trustees join established board members Phillip Ronniger, Jim Corcoran, Tari Pardini, Phyllis Goodwin and student member Tyson Bird on the theater’s governing body. Their hopes for the theater are buoyed by a string of positive developments, including a $20,000 bequest from the estate of Merritt and Miriam Weiss, a $750 grant from Walmart and more than $11,000 raised at the recent Autumn Fest fundraiser. The funds will support a continuing effort to restore the Panida with structural improvements and modern enhancements.

Each new trustee brings his or her own connection to the theater and experiences to the table. For Quintero, the joy of theater has carried him as an artist from Colombia to Florida and finally to Sandpoint after he and his family moved to town a few years ago. Since his arrival, Quintero, a longtime actor, director and playwright, has been struck by the community involvement in local theater. With a plethora of entertainment options available to modern audiences, he believes it’s that community connection that keeps theater healthy and vibrant — a mindset he hopes to maintain as a trustee.

“These walls carry a lot of history, so working and performing here has so much potential,” he said.

Similarly, Caruso, a fixture in local theater productions, has spent much of her career bringing music and theater to younger audiences, who have more than their fair share of distractions between TV, movies, video games, social media and more. As a music teacher at Sandpoint Music Conservatory and Farmin Stidwell Elementary, Caruso’s greatest thrill is seeing a young student learn to love their own capacity for artistic impression. She’s eager to bring that sense of discovery to an even wider audience as a Panida trustee.

“The Panida is full of magic, and who wouldn’t want to be involved with something magical?” she said.

Ullman’s love of the theater extends back to her days growing up in New York City, when she and her friends would pay about $6 for standing-room tickets to major productions. When she moved to Sandpoint, she was surprised to see a similarly supportive community in a much smaller town for the local theater. She hopes to contribute to that culture with the skills she’s picked up over a career of corporate administration.  

“I think of the Panida as the hub of Sandpoint, and from a selfish point of view, I want to be a part of that,” she said. “I feel it’s very important to contribute something to the community.”

Like her fellow new trustees, Mundell was compelled to put her name forward based on the beloved reputation of the Panida Theater. Her goal is to bring the theater to an even broader audience by increasing its online presence. After recently earning a master’s degree in business administration, she has some big ideas to connect the theater with local youth through Facebook and Twitter.     

“Younger people are an audience we really want to attract in particular,” she said. “It’s really exciting to get to work with this board (toward that goal).”

Bates-Harbuck, meanwhile, maintains something of a legendary reputation among local theater devotees. As one of the “Panida Moms,” she was an instrumental figure in saving the theater from demolition almost 30 years ago. Since then, she’s served the theater in various roles, but as a board member, she brings a unique sense of perspective to her responsibilities. And like her colleagues, she is driven by the countless laughs and tears that have defined the venerable building throughout its lifetime.

“You can come in here at night when it’s empty, and you’re never really alone,” she said.