The Amateur Comedy Club (ACC) sits, rather demurely, near the corner of E. 36th St. and Third Avenue. The handsome two-story red brick building is a former carriage house. The east side opens onto a lovely gated courtyard with trees and plantings, known as Sniffen Court.
Founded in 1884, the ACC is the oldest continually operating theatrical production company in the country. It is a nonprofit and a private men's club--women are invited to perform in productions, and may attend as guest of members.
The ACC is not a comedy club in the modern sense of the word, but a place where comedies (and tragedies) are performed. Its motto, Rideo Ergo Sum, means "I laugh, therefore I am."
The first floor is the theater itself, a modest but charming venue that can seat 130 guests. The second floor contains a clubhouse (with lockers for booze, a bar, a dart board, and an impressive array of tools for building sets), a creaky library filled with dusty copies of plays and literature about drama. Several worn and comfortable leather couches fill the room. Posters and photos of some of the thousands of productions over the years cover all available wall space.
There are three major productions annually. New members must be invited to join, so it's a case of not what you know, but whom.
As reported by the blogger TheFitzyReport, the club does not seek publicity, and follows a quirky set of rules:
The club grew out of an intense boredom with Victorian dramas, when, in 1884, six fellows got together and elected an absent seventh as president. Thus began an actor’s club for members who like to drink, or alternatively, a drinking club for members who like to act. Men only of course, producing and acting each show, with female roles being played by guests of the club. This is a quirky tradition that has survived three thousand nine hundred and thirty four performances, and that’s not all. Female players are ‘announced’ at the beginning of the show, but not the men, unless they are making their debut. At half time, lemonade and coffee are served in the library as is alcohol at the end – unless you have access to the men’s locker room where whiskey and vodka are stashed. Black tie is mandatory at the weekend performances and if you come underdressed, wardrobe will be provided to accommodate those ‘delinquent’ members of the audience. Then there’s the Snarks, the sister group of women actors, who put on their own performances each year and no doubt have their own collection of eccentricities.
As did many establishments during Prohibition, the ACC figured out ways to hide their alcohol consumption. They also built an escape hatch in one wall that opens onto an alley in case of a police raid.
As a member explained to The Manhattan, at the time of the club's founding, professional actors were considered to be less than gentlemanly. Theater was to be appreciated and performed out of a love of the art form, not for financial gain. And so it goes to this day at the ACC, one of the many rich stories that quietly gathers new chapters over time, just beyond public purview, behind the million walls of the city.
