What Defines This Fascinating Creature Known As Me?

It's been eleven days since my last entry. I got down on myself at first for not keeping a more consistent record of the process out here, but I came to realize that I've been so immersed in the process and really wasn't able to step outside of it until now. Today is the last day of the first two weeks and we have all come so far and worked so hard. Innumerable discoveries have been made, and new fathoms have been reached.

Watching each of the actresses move into their characters and discover that core of who they are is like peeking in on a small miracle in the making; it's like watching someone perform a real magic spell right before your eyes - it's that remarkable. I have experienced such acute joy in being present at that moment when an actor discovers a core truth about their character; they find it, realize it and feel it, and often it is overwhelming. There are aspects of these characters that are simply unlikeable, and to find that center is sometimes painful - to uncover that pain, that raw fragility, that is the main purpose behind a character's actions, and to embrace and experience it is a grueling, stinging, and often unpalatable thing. Yet in that unpleasantness is the magic and joy of transformation. What makes these moments even more stunning is that you don't necessarily see them coming. All the elements are right and *click* - magic happens. To call this process an act of magic is bromidic at most, but after observing it, I concede there is no other way to define it. The clichéd analogy is enduring. I am witnessing something rare and singular, and there's no acting class that can really show that: it's part of the rehearsal process, and I'm lucky to be a part of it.

This is the journey of the actor. This is the process of the actor who is supported by really good writing and really good directing. Judy has created such a safe environment in which these actors can step out and try anything, and they do. I admit it is with a slight whisper of envy that I write this; I don't think I'd ever had material this good to work on as an actor, and if I did, say, in college, I certainly didn't have the faculties as an actor to really appreciate it. As I further my process as a director, I become a better actor - the process suddenly becomes reciprocal!

We have run through the show several times now, and today is our last day in the rehearsal space. We have the luxury of moving onto the stage a week early, before tech. We have time to learn how the set moves, use the costumes, sound, some lighting, etc. The drummer, Michael, is here as well, so the orchestra is starting to fill out. The elements are being added slowly, one by one, so as not to be heaped upon the actors all at once on the first day of tech next week. Since the actors in this piece are onstage all the time, facilitating scene changes, set changes, their own costume changes - again: all on stage - it is so wise to add elements little by little. They are at times still overwhelmed by the demands of this show, but at least now they're being inundated in increments!

Tomorrow's the day off, and I think it's a VANITIES day at Disneyland!

More later.

And the planet spins and the times may change but you’re always there and you’re where it’s at...

Seventeen years ago I had my first professional job being the understudy to the cast of FOREVER PLAID at the Pasadena Playhouse. 1991 – just a couple months after the earthquake of June 29, which collapsed part of a wall of the Playhouse. Well, today, the first day of rehearsal, we rode out a 5.4 magnitude shock that blasted through just as we had started our read-through of the show. The women were just singing the very end of the opening number, and I heard this thumping. My first thought was "Why is Carmel (the musical director) pounding the floor - the singers are in tempo," and that's when it felt like the building had been picked up into the air and then dropped 10 feet, then continued to shake and roll for several seconds afterwards. I think we all knew it was an earthquake the second it hit, but there was utter silence for a few moments afterwards, as it was still rolling along, and no one moved. One person suggested we get under the tables, another suggested we cram into doorjambs, and our PSM, Pat, suggested we leave the building. That made the most sense. We calmly grabbed our belongings and went downstairs and into the parking lot. It was then that Pat announced that we were on a "ten." I love her.

It should be noted that the Playhouse utilizes the top floor of a two-floor building (a furniture store!) as its rehearsal space, so we didn't have far to go. Later on, when I got back to my apartment, which is on the 5th floor, there were several misplaced, upturned and skewed items - the swaying must have been pretty bad there. I wasn't freaked out much at all, but I'm glad I was amongst other people when it happened.

After a generous ten-minute break, we went back to work, and by the end of the day, I wasn't thinking too much at all about the nearest doorjamb. I took it as a sign of good luck! A quake on the first day of rehearsal!

Okay - back to the title and the opening line: I find myself back in Pasadena after all this time. Pasadena was my starting point as an actor; the Playhouse gave me one of my first jobs. It was the start of something, and I will always remember the excitement I felt at being a part of a show that was receiving such great attention. I never did go on, but came close a couple times and I remember being devastated when it didn't happen. I also remember being housed in an apartment complex that made the setting for "Barton Fink" look like a suite at the Hyatt. I was being paid $200.00 a week, living in a trap above a Japanese restaurant, and really riding the highs and lows of it all: elated one day that I was involved; completely dejected the next because I felt so disconnected.

17 years later I feel so different: (as of today - and I don't see how it would change) I feel like an important player in this process (not that an understudy isn't important: I understudied in my last Broadway show and I like it). I always feel very welcome by everyone involved with this show, and I am viewed as a respected and integral part of the production team. So that overwhelming rush of memories, smells, sights and emotions that hit me as hard as that earthquake did as I walked into the green room of the theatre this afternoon was very soon afterwards tempered by the notion that times have changed, I have changed, and of course, the situation has changed. So has the entire staff at the Playhouse, save for one person (who I thought looked familiar, but not until we spoke did we remember and reconnect). So there are no ghosts here from the days of being a hungry young actor - only memories. There is only a new road ahead of me, and one of the stops along the way is a revisit to the Playhouse and seeing it in a whole new light, and in return, being seen in a whole new night by those who knew me back then. The Playhouse is indeed still standing strong, always welcoming in the next group of artists to convert its insides into new places, transporting all who come to view.

How else did today go? Very well. The read-through was great: it was good for all involved to speak and hear the words and music of Jack and David. Notes were taken, ideas expressed, discussions sent forth, and the good work has begun. It is wonderful to be here now; the excitement of actually putting on stage a show we've been reading and workshopping for more than a year. Lauren, Sarah and Anneliese are so good together, and it is a joy to watch them work with each other.

Judy gave me a book she just finished reading: A Director Prepares by Anne Bogart, which I had just two weeks ago considered buying and reading, but I decided to delay it in order to finish a few other books I want to read. However, it was presented to me, so the universe (and Judy) may be telling me something! I shall read it next.

Even though today's events were indeed exciting, I am hoping for a quake-free day tomorrow!

And yes, the accompanying photo was how we conducted rehearsal after the quake.

I've packed my bags, I'm first in line...

So here’s what’s happening this week: I just sent off two boxes of stuff to Pasadena. I will always overpack, and that is something I will never stop doing. I’m comforted by having my belongings with me, especially for longer visits. I honestly didn’t bring as much as I thought I would for New Hampshire, and in the end I was burned by my decision to pack lightly. By the third or fourth day, the weather had become rather warm and humid, and I was going through three changes of clothing every day. I barely made it (thanks to Downy wrinkle release and Febreeze). There simply was no laundry time. So I shipped off a bunch of clothing to LA. Granted, I’m staying in an apartment complex that will undoubtedly have a laundry facility in it, and I will at least have one day off every week while I’m there, so I will be able to clean my clothes. However, that doesn’t stop me from piling in as much as I can. I look at it this way: It’s Pasadena in the summer, I’ve played there before at that time of year, it’s hot, gross, and I will change three times a day. How’s that for justifying my need to move as much of my life with me as possible?

And just because I’m away from the New London Barn doesn’t mean that I’m not interested or even involved. Tomorrow is the photo shoot, which happens between shows. I’ve come up with a list of shots and, if all goes smoothly, all will be taken. I can’t wait to see them! Keith is back up there this week as his girlfriend is choreographing MY FAIR LADY there, so he’ll be able to assist during the shoot. And yes, I still miss being there, quite honestly. I miss the simplicity of it; the complete focused-in world of those two weeks. I know I am about to immerse myself in another world of Texas accents, mini-skirts, pompoms, cheers, and whatnot. To be honest, I’m chomping at the bit. I was on the phone with Judy the other night and we couldn’t stop saying how excited we were to get going on this!

So I get to do some of the semi-dramaturgical work before going into rehearsals. This is something that always interests me greatly, and quite frankly, the research geek in me gets as excited as Tom Cruise jumping on a couch. While a true dramaturg will work more closely with the script, I’ll be doing research for the eras of the musical: 1963, 1968, 1974 and 1990. Songs, celebrities, movies, shows, commercials, fads, fashions, news, events, you name it, I’ll be looking it up, just to have in rehearsals as references for the actresses…and us, too. I think it’s so helpful to be immersed in the period in which you’re playing – that may sound silly, but I’ve worked with so many actors who just play a period piece as if it was today – very contemporary – and it frankly bugs the hell out of me. In the little time I had with MILLIE, I had to state that keeping tabs on the period was essential! I remember one of my acting teachers in college, Jim Zvanut, telling me of the process of an actress he knew. In preparing for a role, not only did she prepare a part of her apartment in the style and décor in which she thought her character lived, but she actually attained the style of whatever period that was: clothing, posture, dialect, vernacular, everything; and made it her business to totally immerse herself in it. Now, really – we’ve seen those people lumbering up and down the upper west side and the Equity Lounge…I think they took it a bit too far, but there is something to that. I was completely fascinated by that story and from then on always applied that work to my roles. Now I get to do it as a director, and it’s just part of the fun!

Four people now have suggested that I actually write a book about this experience. Ted Chapin did about his experience in the original production of FOLLIES, and I believe Bob Balaban wrote of his experience with “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” Should I balance out my daily involvement between book and blog? Make the blog a book? Save the juicier parts for the book? I don’t know! I’m going to challenge myself, however, to at least keep a daily journal of happenings and events, even if seemingly banal and uninteresting, and I’ll then choose which parts go into the blog and save the rest as a diary.

Ah, so much to think about! And right now, I’m worried about having packed enough socks and boxer briefs…

I'll have to see if there's a Target near Pasadena...

They said I would sing the homesick blues.

Ah, yes. Two weeks of intense, brain-sharpening, vision-narrowing, one- track- mindedness came to an abrupt end this past Wednesday evening as I watched the third performance of MILLIE. Some of the cast were tired – after all, it was the end of a two-show day, and between shows they had all auditioned for some roles in the next musical: MY FAIR LADY. There was even a missed entrance at the top of the show due to someone napping too long! As the actors began to improvise on stage, I just sat calmly in my chair, waiting and watching – anticipating the outcome. Eventually, the problem was solved, and enough dialogue was made up and one actor decided to take on the lines of the missing actor and the show moved on! Despite the hiccup at the start of the evening, the show recovered and Raymond said he loved it. So did I.

Afterwards, the cast had their bi-weekly party celebrating both the opening of the current show and the casting of the following show (the cast list for the next show is posted after the evening performance) and they asked me to swing by and when I did, they presented me with a very sweet gift consisting of two bottles: cheap bubbly (they said they had pooled together all they had…an inside joke of the acting interns there – and totally appreciated on this end!) and soy sauce! I will miss these guys. Despite having spent more time with some and not enough with others, as is the case with putting up a show in 10 days, and the awkwardness of scheduling when outside influences and events take precedence over tech rehearsals (I may explain more about that at a later date, because it was yet another aspect of being a director I hadn’t quite taken into account), and actually losing a cast member to illness (resulting in actually cutting a character, half of a dance number and quickly reassigning a couple small roles to someone else), I truly miss the cast, design team, staff and crew of that place (I neglected to mention earlier that the theatre had indeed obtained a projector for all the supertitles, and we decided that we'd use toe convention of the laundry cart as the screen - it works so well!

Upon leaving I was the recipient of some of the nicest and most warming cards, notes and little parting gifts I think I’ve ever received, and reading through them after I left the theatre Wednesday night brought me to tears, only because every gesture and sentiment was truly genuine; not forced or showy. There is a very unique group of people in New London right now, and they represent what it truly means to love theatre, and I miss them very much. Everyone should do summer stock!

Something else that I found quite interesting (and even amusing) is that a few people on the staff there regularly asked me over the two weeks how I was doing, how stressed was I and how panicked was I. I suppose they had experienced a few directors who had given in to panic and frustration in the past. Honestly: not once did I feel panicked or stressed about anything. Twice I became impatient, and those times were during tech (that’s natural), and I never let it color how I performed. As focused as that rehearsal period was, I never felt like it wouldn’t get finished. While I am looking forward to actually sleeping a little more, I didn’t ever feel my blood pressure rise, which brings me to my physical exam this morning: my blood pressure was a record low of 120/70. That’s wonderful news for someone who once had 160/95 a couple years ago (I am susceptible to city & traffic stress). So not only do I think that two weeks of being away from Manhattan and being completely focused on the task at hand had an extremely calming effect on me – I guess I was in the zone. Who knew MILLIE could be so zen? Even more than MILLIE, who knew directing could be so zen? This all feels so right. Did I ever feel this connected, this integrated as an actor? I think there were moments, but they were fleeting and I only knew them in glimpses. Again: another topic for another entry.

Well, if anyone’s looking for a show that’s funny with a terrific cast in a town that’s breathtakingly charming with great restaurants (Four Corners Grill, Jack’s, and The Millstone); all settled in the New Hampshire mountains, drive on up to New London. If not MILLIE, this group of actors will not disappoint with the next two musicals: MY FAIR LADY and FIDDLER ON THE ROOF.

I have a few days before I head out to California but there are so many things to do – Dad’s turning 80, I’ve got some temp work, lots of laundry and shipping to Pasadena of items I can’t afford to fly with – and by that I basically mean checked luggage.

More to come...

Goodbye, Good Goody Girl

You win a few, you lose a few. Today's events certainly confirm that pithy phrase. We ran the entire show, which really went well. We are all so pleased to be in such a good place with it. This means that we get three more run-throughs before we give in to the tech rehearsal process on Monday! That was the winning part.

The losing part is that we say goodbye to a cast member today who has an illness which will just not allow her to continue to perform this season. To be more specific, I believe she has been battling mono and just needs to go home to recover. The schedule up here is most likely to blame for her illness, or at least it prevented her from ever recovering from what most likely started out as a common cold. This is just one of those schedules that is unforgiving and doesn’t really allow time for healing. At first it was decided that MILLIE would be her last show here, but that was before the seriousness of her condition was fully understood.

Not only is she most likely devastated and heartbroken by this (when she left rehearsal for the hospital she was in tears and afraid because she was having trouble breathing), but to see how this affected the rest of the company moved me. They are terribly saddened and shaken by this, however I do see some good that can come out of all of it: this might shake the rest of the company up and make them take care of themselves; something which may have not been a priority. At this point, however, it’s imperative. There are three more shows to rehearse and perform after MILLIE. Obviously, the schedule’s only going to get worse before it gets better, and not only don’t I want anyone else to have to leave the company, I also don’t want any of them to miss out on what a wonderful opportunity this summer has given them.

And, of course, this brings me to the next thing: leadership and example. I want to say something to my cast about how important it is that they take care of themselves and each other during this time, but I am immediately reminded of how I really resent those “take care of yourselves” speeches. The truth is, I resent the “take care of yourselves” speeches when they involve ultimatums and/or they are delivered by producers who have not one clue of what it is to be a performer and handle the schedule of a rehearsal process while balancing out everyday life. And I guess what insults me most about those speeches is that they’re often delivered as if the recipients were drooling, spastic idiots incapable of going to the bathroom by themselves. My cast, let me assure you, is no group of idiots. This is a very smart and loving group of people. So maybe all I do is reassure them that that is how I view them, and through that I express my confidence that they will support one another and themselves and just take care. I will add that in no way do I even think that the staff or producers here would even approach their acting company as anything less than intelligent and wonderful human beings, but sometimes hearing the “stay healthy” advice from a new face makes the difference. We all know I ain’t really the one to be giving out that advice, but I am now in the position as Director to do so. I think it comes with the job. We’ll see.

Restructuring the show is the priority for part of the day tomorrow, before our second run-through. It won’t be so hard, I think. We just have to move a couple people around here and there, reassign some dialogue, make a couple of dance cuts and we’re gonna be okay. Nonetheless, I will miss seeing our departed company member at rehearsals, but not nearly as much as her fellow actors will. She is indeed talented, enthusiastic and works very hard; doubly so through her illness. I won’t forget that. I wish her safe travels home and a speedy and restful recovery.

And with all sincerity and hopes for better health and catching up on sleep I say “Good Night!”

Thoroughly Manual Millie

I am stealing that title from a friend of mine, Mark Ledbetter, who had designed the accompanying mock-up of the poster to commemorate the extraction of all things automated on the National Tour of MILLIE. This was about the time that I joined the cast, so part of my put-in rehearsal as Jimmy also required learning how to ride Muzzy’s balcony as it was slowly being pushed downstage by a burly technician crawling on his belly, all while performing a scene with Darcie Roberts. Hey – it worked and the audience didn’t know the difference! It was like the time that the lift mechanism broke for the tour of TITANIC while we were in Baltimore, and all we could do was raise the stage-right side of the deck about one foot to create the tilting effect, and, wouldn’t you know: the audience gave us a standing O!

Anyway…

I recall “Manual” Millie only because it wasn’t possible to obtain a projector for the English supertitles that are required for the show, so I proposed a system of writing out each card and having them appear in flip-book style throughout the show. This is being evaluated and priced out, and I think it’s going to work. First of all, it will serve the purpose of translating all the Chinese dialogue, and secondly, it will be very funny. Trouble is, what’s less expensive: getting Kinko’s to print out large letters on posterboard (around $4 a sheet multiplied by about 50 sheets required for the show…$200.00. Really? It’s just paper and ink, Kinko), or stenciling out all the dialogue and hand printing/coloring the whole thing? I think the latter will work, and I am so ready to help fill in the lines with my black magic marker! At any rate, rolling with it is the way that I choose to go with things, and I find that that attitude makes directing sooo much easier, and therefore, that much more rewarding!

We’re coming along here, and coming along rather well, I believe. Even though the kids in the company are battling exhaustion from EVITA, GRAND NIGHT FOR SINGING, overheating, illness and intern duties, they continue to deliver. And I would also just like to mention the tech staff here at the New London Barn Playhouse. Not only do these people have their work cut out for them, but they, too, deliver above and beyond the call of duty. And they’re nice.

And another shout-out to Kathryn Markey, who came up from New York to join the cast as Mrs. Meers Sunday and was thrown into the Millie Cuisinart and came out glowing! She’s really funny, and I like working with her very much. She’s actually going to direct the Barn’s production of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF in a few weeks, so she’s here for the long haul!

Tomorrow is our stumble-through of Act Two, and if the way the company rose to the occasion on Monday for the Act One stumble-through (which was stellar), all should go swimmingly. I’m very proud of this production and all people involved. If all goes well, we’ll run the whole show Friday, twice on Saturday and once more on Sunday before we go into tech on Sunday!

So - to get back the MANUAL thing - after having experienced the show from the Broadway stage, where everything was automated, to the National Tour, where it was much less so, to the regional stage, where there was hardly any, to here where there is none, I have realized (and I think I always knew this) that MILLIE works no matter what the budget or the venue. The music, the story and the characters are enough to satisfy the theatregoer. The set can be anything. Or nothing. There is nothing like watching the dancers come to life around Millie in the opening number, and that's when you realize that they all become the set. A simple sign and desk let us know we're in a hotel lobby; a sheet hung up to dry let us know we're in a laundry room; a couple of low-hung billiard lights indicate a speakeasy...you get the picture.

Now if I could just get an air conditioner in my apartment and block out all this humidity and actually sleep…

On their marks, racing fast: quite a cast.

Keith and I cast the show yesterday in a matter of a few short hours. Admittedly, it was daunting at first: finding the appropriate amount of time for each of the 18 actors to sing and read. But make the time we did, and these kids really stepped up to the plate and brought it to that audition! We began singing people at 9:30 am, and by 10:30 had heard everyone. For the next 90 minutes we read each and every person! I gave some notes and/or adjustments to nearly every actor and each of them responded and took the notes and integrated them into their audition. They were so easy to communicate with. I have to say I was pleased to hear from the artistic director as she said she really liked the way I was working with the kids.

I was amazed at how easy it was to cast this show from this group of actors. It was like watching a jigsaw puzzle solve itself. By 12 noon, we were 98% sure of our cast. Now all we had to do was dance and move them. Keith had prepared two combinations: one for the Speakeasy and one for the Speed Test (tapping). But we had to wait until 5 pm for that, because the kids had a matinee of EVITA, which ended a little after 4 pm, which was immediately followed by a photo call, which did run over it's scheduled time by 30 minutes, as most photo calls do. But we were determined to get this dance call under way. Keith had those kids out of EVITA costumes and in their dance shoes and sweats in less than five minutes, and after 45 minutes and two great short combinations, we were able to see the varying levels of movement and dance within the company and had finished casting the show! While the kids ate their dinner and got prepared for their evening show, Keith and I typed up the cast list which was to be posted backstage after the evening show, then he and I went out for a drink & dinner! We were exhausted. I can't even imagine how fried the kids were.

We met up with the company after their second show (and second half of the photo call...) and there was much cause for celebration: they had opened EVITA, finished the photo shoot, and auditioned their asses off and got cast in the next show! There was a party in one of the company houses, and, for the most part, the actors were completely psyched about the way things had turned out. There were one or two disappointed faces, and all I could do was just keep smiling and reassure everyone that this is going to be a very exciting project and that we all were going to have fun on it. Not to lessen the feelings of anyone who was not pleased by the results, but, as most of us know, disappointment is, for better or worse, such a huge part of this process. It is unsettling to see the unhappiness flash across the face of a disenchanted actor, especially when they're so young and so eager. But I believe it is that youth and ardor which will pull them out of it soon enough.

But here we go into our first day of rehearsal and I am confident it's going to be great.

Here goes!

More later...

Don't you know that where I am ain't where I was?

It's been a few days, but I'm back. I was in Canada on vacation/MILLIE prep time. After a 9-hour drive from Aylen Lake, Ontario to NYC to attend a VANITIES party last night, I got up at the crack again this morning (by that I mean Tuesday), met Keith and we got in the Hyundai and drove 5 hours to New London, New Hampshire.

Keith is choreographing this production of MILLIE, and we've had a great time getting to know each other. We share similar views of the show, and I think we're going to have a great time working on this together. For instance, he voiced to me his concept for a certain moment of the show and how it would look, and it was exactly what I had been thinking about myself. Psychic? Prob'ly not. But at least we think alike.

So after five hours of driving - the first two having been rather boring and annoying while driving along 95 through NY and CT, the last three having been rather beautiful - we arrived in New London and found the Barn Theatre. It is just that and it's nothing but charming. To look at the building is to be immediately transported to a previous time - a time which this community obviously respects and still chooses to patronize. Does that make it contemporary, then?

After being shown to our hotel, Keith and I went back to the theatre to watch the opening night of EVITA, however not before dining with the cast in the "kitchen" (a cosy dining area in a building just next to the theatre where everyone is fed three times a day) and enjoyed some time with the acting interns (I would like to call them the Resident Company) and jobbed-in actors. Everyone is very friendly and so happy to be here. Once again, I immediately wished I had had an experience like this. Yes, it's lots of work, but they all seem to be having a great time. I met everyone at the theatre, and my challenge now is names. Good grief: why are names so hard? Faces - immediate recognition...Names - I'll get there. I refuse to call any actor by their character's names until we're in tech or something like that.

So, EVITA: it is a great production! The direction is great as is the choreography, and the cast is terrific. Eva and Peron are jobbed in, and they too are wonderful. It's a freakin' daunting score and challenging libretto and story, and and they all rose to the occasion, and then some. Kudos to the New London Barn Theatre!

Keith and I were able to get a sense of a lot of the Resident Company's abilities - singing, dancing, etc. From that corps, we must cast MILLIE. This is the first show they've done here this season where most of the principal roles will be cast from that ensemble. Needless to say, the Company is very excited about this. However, I'm aware that because this ensemble is now in its 6th week together, bonds have been formed, friendships have been forged, and I am sure there are many hopefuls for certain roles, and I know there will be disappointments handed out as well as elations tomorrow after auditions. This is where I have to put on the "boss" hat, I suppose, and just make my choices with Keith and let disappointments and elations fall where they will, and it is my wish and hope that no matter how the dice roll today, that the Resident Company will take the opportunity to create a production of a very good show together. MILLIE is a show about having fun - it's to be performed by people who love doing musicals, and I was immediately shown that this is a company that loves doing just that.

More to come, and more news on auditions...which I cannot wait for!

Tireless people, no time to lose.

I am realizing how little time I have to mount this production of MILLIE at the New London Barn Playhouse! This is good-old-fashioned summer stock with the kids (known as acting interns) doing sceneshop/tech work in the mornings, rehearsing a new show every day for five hours in the afternoon, then performing whatever show they’re in that night. I haven’t met anyone up there yet, and already I am filled with admiration and awe at what they are doing. I never did receive training like that, and maybe I should have at some point.

As an actor, I was very lucky to get hired for a show almost immediately out of college. I never did work a summer at a theme park, or a summer theatre program, or even a cruise ship. Looking back on it, I think I may have felt somewhat less entitled had I actually worked that hard for a summer. Not that my work ethic is or was ever lacking, but there’s something about the hardened stamina one develops from those kinds of jobs. Everyone I know who was ever a Kid of the Kingdom at Disney World or who did months of a Jean Ann Ryan production on a ship, or came out of the Pittsburgh CLO ensemble or something similar seems to think nothing of knocking out eight shows a week on Broadway or gearing up for any audition.

I think that was something I eventually learned how to do. It wasn’t until I joined the cast of THE FANTASTICKS at the Sullivan Street Playhouse in ’93 that I truly began to appreciate how important developing and maintaining performance stamina was all about. I had done FOREVER PLAID for over three years previously, and while I never missed a show in all that time, I feel like I rarely gave it my full artistic attention. I think I took a lot of that show for granted and coasted with it, until I realized I was getting bored and unfulfilled and wanted out. With THE FANTASTICKS, I was given a chance to really shape a character, and I was blessed with that wonderful material to work on every night. I couldn’t hide behind three other men on stage and if I happened to be tired, let them carry the vocal energy of the show. I had to step up as Matt and deliver. I began taking better care of myself and if I was ever starting to feel stale in the role, forced myself to go back to the script and work on refreshing it for me. I cultivated a stamina and work ethic of my own that, at the risk of sounding sanctimonious, has carried me through to this day. I just now apply that sense of stamina to my directing. I feel that up there it will come easily. I understand that the actors are very excited about doing MILLIE which will only bolster my enthusiasm of working on it with them.

It’s that excitement and enthusiasm that will be the driving force behind getting all that work done in a very short amount of time! Bring it on!!

Back to the mirror

Getting involved with VANITIES was rather simple, actually. I simply put the word out there that I wanted to work on this project with Judy and it happened. I don’t know if that’s how it normally happens, or if this was a special case or what. This has been the great part of this process so far: everything I have set out to do in the name of directing I seem to receive almost immediate results (and if not results then at least answers or responses). This didn’t seem to happen as much as an actor! Sure, I worked consistently up until a couple years ago – I think once I left the MILLIE tour and did a few regional gigs, but I was hitting that area of being “much older than I looked” syndrome and a maturity level was betraying the age of the roles I was playing…and yet I didn’t look old enough to play the roles for which I was really age-appropriate – and I didn’t have the wherewithal, urge or need to fight it; to convince others that I really should have been considered for this part or that role. It wasn’t laziness. It was acceptance. I was ready for something else, I just didn’t know what it was and I had felt this coming for a long time. So the more I wanted to direct, the more think I may have tapped into a source of power and determination. At the risk of sounding a bit new-age-ish, I must say that it certainly feels like the universe is responding to what I’m doing. The choices I’m making certainly resonate within me. But then I still ask the question: “Okay, then, how do I make a living at this?” I think the answers will come.

I recently received some great advice from my friend Diane, an agent who represents actors as well as directors. I asked her not to represent me as a director, but just to give me some clues as to what the hell I should be doing (Yes, there are guidebooks and handbooks out the butt for this sort of thing, but I learned very early on that it’s a uniquely individual process) – and she simply said, “Just start telling people that you’re a director. See what happens.” Man, was she right. It made me recall a like from a Neale Donald Walsh book that basically said to act as if you were in that situation and the universe will respond and you will have created it. Hmmm…

Who am I today?

As I write this I should really be preparing for two presentations today of a reading in which I am performing: GHOSTS – THE MUSICAL. It is telling that, as fairly easy as this material has been to work on, I have gotten quite frustrated this past week whenever the reading rehearsals and homework have gotten in the way of any prep work I have been trying to accomplish for THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE. I had to end a ninety-minute phone call to the set designer in order to get to GHOSTS rehearsal on time. We could have easily talked for another hour, sorting out how to solve the problem of fitting a large, multi-setting musical that is MILLIE into the small space that is the New London Barn Playhouse. After this evening, I can focus that much more on MILLIE and I will be the happier for it. This is not an expression of ingratitude for having been asked to do this reading, I just would rather be on the other side of the table!

That being said…I’m off to sound check for GHOSTS…more about VANITIES tomorrow…

How I joined VANITIES

So I should give some background on VANITIES. In April of last year, a little after my production of GREASE had opened at Westchester, I had read an article about Judith Ivey signing on to direct VANITIES. Now I had met and worked with Judy in FOLLIES in 2001 and we became fast friends during that show. We had kept in touch and gotten together whenever we could over the years, which wasn’t very much, but we remained in contact nonetheless. I decided to email her and ask her if she needed an associate director for the project. I figured I needed to learn more about the process and what better way to do it than to jump on board a Broadway-bound musical? She immediately answered by saying that not only did she want me on board, but that she was about to ask me be her associate…how’s that for synchronicity? We are both Virgos, after all…

Over the year there were a few readings involved, mostly for backers and the like, then there were cast changes and auditions and then a two-week workshop last month…and I’m so ready to get this show on its feet – as is everyone else. In fact, we just recorded a demo of some of the songs the other day and it was blissful to be with all these people once more – if that sounds naïve then so be it. It’s been a joyful process, and I am learning loads…

So - every now and then I’ll reach back and recount some moments of VANITIES casting sessions, production meetings, note sessions, and rehearsal instances and what I learned from them, or just offer my observations – so expect to see those dropped in from time to time. More later! Or sooner.

Prep Work

The pressure to sound refreshingly eloquent and use those wonderful long words that I find in crossword puzzles is too great, so I will do my best to ignore it and treat this as if I was emailing a friend on a day-to-some-other-day basis.

That being said, I am making this transition from actor to director and I want to document it here for me and for anyone else who might be interested.

Sometime in the fall of 2005 while I was playing Gus in GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES at Westchester Broadway Theatre, word got out that the theatre was going to produce THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE the following season. Given my history with the show, I was hoping they wouldn't ask me to be in it only because I felt like I had done all I could with the role of Jimmy in previous productions. My dressing roommate, Bill Bateman, turned to me one day backstage and said to me pointedly "You should direct it." I immediately dismissed the idea, not wanting the responsibility. How did I know how to do it? Besides, the theatre probably had at least ten directors in mind for the piece.

But Bill had planted something that grew, and I couldn't ignore the impulses and questions and voices that kept popping up and finally urged me to think about how I would direct that show. I had seen what worked and didn't work from the three vastly different productions I had been in, hadn't I? I knew how the show had to move, where the laughs were, where more could be found, and where extraneous ones could be omitted. I knew where the touching moments were and how to get to them; I knew how to tell the story.

I made an appointment with the producers, told them why I wanted to direct it and how I could make it work in their space and they hired me right then and there. Well, that was easy! Just say you're a director and BOOM: you're a director! It was a little like winning the lottery, I think. I don't know if I had ever gotten an acting job that easily. Anyway, a few months of prep work went by and my choreographer and I had put together (on paper and in our heads) a very tight, fun show.

Then the day came when the producers called me and said they had both Bad and Good News for me. The Bad News was that after seeing that the show was selling rather poorly for other regional theatres they had decided to pull it from their season. The Good News was that they still wanted me to direct a show there - it just happened to be a show I was appearing in at that very time: GREASE. I was very disappointed at losing MILLIE, but very quickly came around and started work with my choreographer on GREASE. And that was how I became a director. And I loved it. But that show ended and I was back to being an actor once again. I did a showcase in New York, an off-Broadway show, then another regional gig, but I was really finished with doing eight shows a week, especially in shows I wasn't very happy in.

I'm not done being an actor, necessarily. But I am done trying to fight the "in-between" years. The meaty leading man roles are still a few years ahead of me, and I'm so tired of playing the younger guys anymore. I know, I know, boo-hoo, boo-hoo. But I am tired of it. The challenge of an actor should be to keep finding new things, always learn from and grow in the role. However for me the challenge lately has been to just get through eight shows a week, let alone one performance of a poorly-written character in a poorly-written musical. But I digress.

I really like directing, plain and simple.

So in this blog, I will attempt to document the following processes (for now):

• Associate Directing VANITIES, A New Musical (this summer and fall)
• Directing THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE (this summer - FINALLY!)
• Meeting composers, librettists, writers, producers and trying to work!
• and the occasional rant or rave, review, comment, observation, etc...

So, here goes...