Desert Song

Week 28: Albuquerque, NM

As we landed here in Albuquerque and the landscape of brush, baked earth and mountains came into view it acted like a tonic on me. It is so nice to see a different vista and this is my first time to a desert place. The air is clear, dry and hot and my sinuses thanked me! I am also staying in a nicer hotel this week and in general it's like a big sigh of relief. I have come to really need comfortable lodgings and easy access to things to do in the various places we play. It creates a sense of balance and provides needed respite from the hard work of our eight show week. Someone recently asked me why doing what we do for only a few hours eight times a week is so taxing. In reading a book on Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne that I picked up at Ten Chimneys, I found this quote from Fontanne that really addresses it:

Acting exacts a terrific toll.
The physical energy that is compressed into three hours of performance is comparable to the energy needed to run a marathon, and that does not take into account the emotional intensity required to represent a character in the throes of one sort of crisis or another. In addition, being the focus of thousands of eyes produces a hypnotic magnetism which makes the actor physically stronger than he is himself, but when the eyes are withdrawn and the current is switched off he feels like a pricked balloon.


I realize that I have spent a great deal of space here on relating my travels and experiences on the road but not a lot about the actual experience of performing. I will say that this is the longest I have consistently performed a single role and there are definite challenges in keeping the work fresh and staying interested and energized. I was inspired when I read about the Lunts and how they were forever tinkering with their performances and trying new things even long into the run of a show. This is exactly what I do. When I feel I have gotten stuck in a particular reading of a line or the delivery of a bit of business, I subtly change it up. This might be in the way of a new inflection or emphasis, a different intonation or vocal coloring, or the adoption of a slightly different attitude or intention. I abhor the idea of becoming mechanical or stuck in stale repetition.

"Spamalot" is a finely tuned show with strongly orchestrated pacing and an established structure, but within that structure one has room for a great deal of play. For example, my tower guard at the top of the show. I experiment with subtle differences in energy--maybe King Arthur woke me from a nap? maybe I have a stomach ache? maybe I have been bored and desperate for someone to come along and chat with me? A small adjustment in my imagined circumstances may be imperceptible to the audience or my fellow actors but it creates a slightly different color in my energy and brings a different dynamic to the scene which assures that I am alive in the moment with my fellow performers--rather than mechanically delivering lines and business in an habitual pattern. I am also forever looking for ways to improve what I am doing and I gauge the audience's reactions to various moments and look for subtle changes or refinements that might get a better laugh or a stronger response. And I admit I am rather hard on myself. I still feel deficient that I am not a piano player and can't execute the cadenza that was inserted into the "Jew Song" for David Hyde Pierce (who IS a pianist). I have turned my "chopsticks" bit into an amusing moment that works but it still rankles me somewhat that I can't do that one extra bit that was a part of the original conception of the show. I hope I make up for it in the other ways I put my personal stamp on my big number.

Back to Albuquerque. On our first night here, my friends Tim, Rick and I took the tram up to Sandia Peak, 10,000 plus feet up the Sandia Mountains, and had dinner at High Finance, America's highest restaurant. The views from the tram were spectacular but of course there were lots of butterflies as we ascended in this little car suspended by a cable, crammed in with 30 or so other people. What a magnificent landscape of crags and pines and the sweep of the desert peppered with the lights of the various homes and businesses of Albuquerque. The restaurant was pleasant and we enjoyed our dinner, although the altitude did make me a little woozy! Looking out across the expanse of land below, I was heartened by the fact that there are still large portions of unspoiled land in this country of ours. It's very beautiful.





We are performing this week at Popejoy Hall on the University of New Mexico campus. It's an attractive campus, with buildings all reflecting the prevailing Southwestern style: matte plaster structures in shades of beige and terra cotta. Popejoy Hall has been a landmark in the Albuquerque community for over 40 years.The hall was completely renovated in 1996 and equipped with state of the art acoustical systems. Its long time resident companies include the New Mexico Symphony Orchestra and the New Mexico Ballet Company. It's interesting to me that the 1990s saw such a surge in the establishment and refurbishment of major performing arts centers and legitimate theatres around the country. Certainly the investment in these spaces has made possible tours of large scale Broadway shows like ours.

This region has a rich and ancient Native American tradition. The city itself, established in 1706 by Spanish colonists, celebrated its tricentennial two years ago. Albuquerque was named by the provincial governor Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdes in honour of Don Francisco Fernández de la Cueva, Duke of Alburquerque, viceroy of New Spain from 1653 to 1660. The first "r" in "Alburquerque" was dropped at some point in the 19th century, supposedly by an Anglo-American railroad station-master unable to correctly pronounce the city's name. The cultural diversity and combination of Native American and Spanish influences is apparent everywhere in Albuquerque.
The Albuquerque Museum combines an eclectic collection of Southwest-inspired art as well as a very interesting historical exhibit containing rare artifacts from the rich Indian and Spanish heritage of Albuquerque. Next to the museum is a lovely sculpture garden, also reflecting the cultural history of the area.
Nearby Old Town is very quaint, with it's central plaza, the beautiful San Felipe de Neri Church, and numerous shops and restaurants. However, the area is entirely geared toward tourists and after a while, the art galleries and gift shops all seem to be repeating the same selection of pottery and turquoise jewelry. It was an interesting contrast--the work of fine artists inspired by the landscape and native culture of New Mexico at the museum, and then in Old Town shops, the mass-produced Southwest style objects piled high for tourist consumption which seem to exploit it.


A walk east from the UNM campus along Central Ave (Historic Route 66) takes you to Nob Hill, the funky part of town which has less in common with its San Francisco namesake and more with another Frisco neighborhood, Haight-Ashbury. Yoga studios and tattoo parlors are interspersed with funky clothing boutiques and shops selling Mexican, Himalayan and Indian arts and crafts. The street is lined with great art deco structures and vintage motels sporting great old graphic neon signs, and there is even an old Texaco filling station converted to a popular restaurant, Kelly's Brew House, its outdoor patio still retaining the old 1950's gas pumps.


Ann is my Albuquerque dresser and did a terrific job.
Ann got the acting bug at the age of five, and went from actress to stage manager before she met her husband, who is a lighting designer. While he was designing at Santa Fe Opera, Ann became the wardrobe mistress. She loves the theatre and loves what she does. She was right on every task the very first night and did her work with a smile. It's a pleasure to do my job when I get such great support. I have enjoyed my week in New Mexico and the countdown continues to our month long stay in Vancouver (XO, G.M.!)--two weeks in Texas before then, San Antonio then Fort Worth. We can remember the Alamo together next time, folks.