Giving Thanks

Week 51: Pittsburgh, PA

Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.
--Marianne Williamson


As I mentioned before, I was born here in Pittsburgh, as was my older brother. My parents met in the drama department of Carnegie Tech (which later became Carnegie Mellon). After they married, they lived here for a few years and then moved us to Massachusetts. I don't have memories of Pittsburgh, aside from one summer I spent here in 1978 when my Dad was designing the scenery for the Civic Light Opera season at Heinz Hall. I remember hanging out in the paint studio with him as he worked, washing brushes and buckets, helping to size drops. I remember the majestic white, gilt and red velvet interior of Heinz Hall, and the wonderful productions, which included "Company," "Anything Goes," and a beautiful "Oliver!" starring Clive Revill, reprising the role of Fagin, which he created in the original London and Broadway casts of the show. I remember the remarkable sight of those three mighty rivers joining together in the city, and a trip to Kennywood amusement park; I also saw "Star Wars" on the big screen here that summer. Now that I have completely dated myself...


If you have read my bio on my website you will know that I spent several years impersonating the great Marlene Dietrich. Thus, the photo that launches this week's post. If you are looking for a fun flick for a snowy night in front of the fire this winter, check out 1942's "Pittsburgh." A tale of ambition in the steel industry, it stars John Wayne as "Pittsburgh," Randolph Scott as "Cash" and Marlene as Josie, whose nickname is, and no, I am dead serious--"Hunky." Dietrich's penultimate dramatic moment in this film is a harrowing scene in which she plummets to her death in a mine shaft elevator that comes detached from its cable. Dietrich always played women of easy virtue who had to die to keep the Hays office happy. But I digress.

Architectural grandeur highlights this visit to Pittsburgh, beginning with my hotel this week, the historic William Penn Hotel.
Built in 1916, this is one of the great American hotels, like the Plaza in New York. From the elegant lobby, with its sparkling chandeliers, presently swathed in garland, twinkling lights and an enormous Christmas tree, to the plush guest rooms and the stately ballrooms, this is definitely a swellagent place from a bygone era. It's been a delight to stay here, and the company threw us a scrumptious Thanksgiving dinner in the Lawrence Welk Room (his band began it's rise to fame at the William Penn, and the famous bubble machine not only made its premiere here but is still stored somewhere in the hotel!).
The food was just delicious and it was a chance for the entire cast, crew and management to dress up a little and be family together on this festive holiday.

The grandeur continues at our venue this week, the Benedum Center.
Built in 1927 as The Stanley Theatre, it was originally a movie palace similar to Radio City Music Hall, presenting big screen entertainment and lavish stage shows. Beautifully restored, the venue is just breathtaking, with 90 crystal chandeliers and torchieres, gleaming brass railings, Florentine style friezes, and a mirrored lobby meant to emulate the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. It's a beautiful venue, and is home to the Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera now, nearby Heinz Hall being used primarily for the symphony. Pittsburgh is an interesting city to stroll around, at once seedy and solid-- skyscrapers sharing the landscape with ornate 19th century buildings reflecting the ostentation of a city built on the wealth of the great steel magnates. I have enjoyed taking pictures of some of the architectural gems here.



Making money is art and working is art and good business is the best art.
--Andy Warhol

That quote just about encapsulates the commercial theatre! My one museum outing here was a real beaut. The Warhol Museum is a unique tribute to one of Pittsburgh's favorite sons, and with seven floors of art and archival material, it is a comprehensive overview of the art and life of the enigmatic Andy Warhol.
I never quite realized how diverse his talents were. Of course there are the famous Campbell's Soup cans and the celebrity portraits, from Liz Taylor to Marilyn. But he also did some striking abstract works, including mammoth Rorschach images in metallic inks and a large canvas on which he experimented with the effects achieved by urinating on to copper-based paint (sounds gross but the final result was rather pretty). From his work as a commercial artist and film maker, to the publisher of Interview magazine (he said he started the publication to get free tickets to events), Warhol was intensely aware of American culture and all its detail, which he collected in his consciousness and used to create art with a very particular and compelling point of view. He was a true aesthete in the tradition of Oscar Wilde, viewing life as art and the artist as art. His signature black Ray Ban glasses and wild blond wig made him as iconic as the images he used in his work. The museum also includes the work of some of his contemporaries and collaborators like Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat. But my favorite room was the one containing Warhol's "clouds:" silver foil pillows filled with helium being gently wafted around a white room by fans. I had a delightful time watching a little angel-haired child romping amongst these puffs of silver. It was a playful collision of art and life that I think Warhol would have found delightful.

The holiday this week, the time I have spent in Pittsburgh and the kindness of a new friend I made here have all reminded me how important it is to try and stay in a place of gratitude and appreciation of all that I have and the beauty that life has to offer. It is easy to get bogged down in concerns and anxieties, to fret about the economy and worry about money, to try and hold on to what one has for fear of losing it and being without. It's easy to lose perspective; to forget the gifts one has been granted--of health, of vitality, of meaningful work, of loved ones. There are some people in my circle and in the circles of my friends who are suffering, who are dealing with catastrophic illnesses; the death toll continued to rise this week in Mumbai, where innocent people have been the victims of hate and ignorance. In the face of despair, and our own feelings of helplessness, there is power in gratitude. I hope that this Thanksgiving brought great bounty to you and the feeling that you are blessed and have much to be thankful for. May we carry those feelings into the new year.

Sigrid is my Pittsburgh dresser.
She has the elegant carriage of a dancer, and used to work in the fashion industry, draping and tailoring--she says with pride that her specialty was creating suits and if you know anything about that kind of tailoring, you know it requires great skill and attention to detail. I have no doubt Sigrid was terrific at it. She has been a pleasure to work with here. The Pittsburgh audiences have been enthusiastic and generous. We are doing the annual holiday fund drive for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS right now. At each performance, cast members collect money in the lobby for this very worthy charity which has raised $100,000,000 through this kind of grass roots fundraising. If you are looking for a worthy cause to contribute to this season, I recommend BC/EFA. The money you contribute goes directly to those who need it, from all walks of life. And so, in closing this week, let me thank you for YOU. Your interest in my journey and your enthusiasm for the work I do lifts me up and makes me feel connected. So thank you for sticking with me! Sioux City is next...

Family and Spamily

Week 50: Boston, MA

If you are paying attention, each successive year will make you more intimately acquainted with your flaws--the blind spots, the recurring habits of thought that may be genetic or may be environmental, but that will almost certainly worsen with time, as surely as the hitch in your walk turns to pain in your hip.
--Barack Obama, "The Audacity of Hope"

There is a feeling of full circle about returning to Boston at this juncture of my “Spamalot” journey. We were last here in January, shortly after I began the tour. I arrived here with a strong sense of the prodigal son returning to his home town, a magical snowstorm frosting the city in sugary white. Many cities and several hundred performances later, we are back for a week’s engagement at the Colonial Theatre. This week I have had the joy of spending quality time with my Mom, and of wandering the streets of this city where I spent much of my childhood, my college years as a young drama student, and several years as a working adult. With the present uncertainty as to whether or not I will be asked to continue on with the tour beyond this first year, the comforting energy of a place that feels like home is so very welcome.

Yes, as of this writing, I have not yet been invited to stay on with the tour beyond my first contract. I have certainly been asked over the past few months if I would want to continue, and have always answered in the affirmative. But there are many factors that go into the decisions that are made in regard to a large production like this, and while it is an excruciating time of uncertainty for me, the powers that be will make whatever decision is best in their judgement for the future of the tour. I am confident in the contribution I have made to the production, am gratified by the approbation I have received from the creative team, the press, and our audiences, and am proud of my work. However, I tend to be a somewhat high strung individual and while I wait on pins and needles for that extension offer, I have been a nervous wreck and I am quite sure, a pain to be around.

This brings me to an aspect of tour life that I have not yet touched upon in this blog, that of the group dynamic. Most people have experienced a workplace of some kind or another--an office environment, a busy restaurant, a manufacturing shop. Thrown together with an assortment of different personalities from diverse backgrounds, one has to make one's way, get along with everyone, and, hopefully find a few chums one can share a personal conversation with or, at least, lunch. But regardless of the interpersonal dynamics,in the "real world" most people go home at night and leave those other workers at work. In a touring show, one spends a great deal more time with one's coworkers, traveling from place to place, rehearsing and performing, and socializing in strange places where what counts as "going home" from work is returning to a hotel room. Naturally, the chances of getting on each other's nerves are increased exponentially by all this interaction, and sometimes emotions run high for various reasons--homesickness, fatigue, plain old grumpiness, ennui. I will say this about the "Spamalot" company--it is a fine group of people who get along, and often, genuinely enjoy hanging out together. The "Spamily" has built in some group activities into the touring life, including company birthday celebrations, bar crawls to celebrate both the comings and goings of cast and crew members, and our Saturday night tradition of "shot night." It is, by and large, an affable, generous, good humored group of people.

Belonging to groups has always been a peculiar challenge for me. Without turning this blog--which I realize has largely become a travelogue--into a therapy session, I will say that as a child I was a bit of an outcast.
Precocious, asthmatic, creative, moody, I was picked on relentlessly from a very early age. I learned to be self-sufficient, to enjoy solitary pleasures, and to believe in myself despite the rejection of my peers. But along with these survival skills, scar tissue formed--fear of rejection, a feeling of being an outsider, an impulse to overcompensate to make people like me. The theatre is full of misfits of all kinds and I have always felt it my proper home--where I can truly be myself and give of the natural gifts I feel I possess--of creativity, sharing, and joy through performing. Still, with each new company I join, there is always that nagging feeling that I am a misfit among misfits, still trying to fit in and somehow only managing to find a real connection with a small handful of people who "get me." Now, the "Spamalot" company are fun people. They love to party, to do group activities; there are football confidence pools, organized games of "whirlyball" (a group sport that is sort of lacrosse played in bumper cars--I am not kidding), and movie premiere outings.
Not all of these activities are my cup of tea; but then my movie nights of popcorn, cocktails and Bette Davis, or my Tarot card readings, or my museum trips are not every one's idea of fun either. There are some company members I have never had a real conversation with; others have become good friends. I am not for everyone; I am perhaps an acquired taste--I wear my heart on my sleeve, I express my emotions too freely, I have a wicked temper which I generally keep under wraps but which can rear it's ugly head from time to time, usually with me shooting my mouth off inappropriately. I have difficulty being inauthentic, and sometimes show business requires that one put on a happy face, even if the business is full of rejection, judgment, heartache. I have often said that I am perfectly suited to the work of the theatre but temperamentally unsuited to the business, which can be duplicitous, dehumanizing and just plain nasty. I have been a little hard to live with this past week, but I am hopeful that the "Spamily" in their good natured way, will find their way to forgive me and cut me a little slack during a trying time. As I said, our little moving workplace can be claustrophobic at times. Perhaps I can smooth things over with the "shot night" I am hosting this week. Always one for a theme, my shot this week is a "Boston Cream Pie," consisting of equal parts Godiva liqueur, vanilla vodka, and Irish cream. God, I do have a sweet tooth.

Adding to the tension this week was a much anticipated visit by the director of "Spamalot," Mike Nichols.
I am sure I don't need to introduce Mr. Nichols to you. His career has spanned every area of the profession--theatre, television, film--his legendary comedy career with partner Elaine May, his direction of great films like "The Graduate," "The Birdcage," "Angels in America;" he is one of a handful of artists to have received every major entertainment award--the Oscar, Emmy, Tony, Golden Globe. His helming of "Spamalot" led to a flurry of Tony Awards for the production, including Best Musical. He is, at the risk of using a cliche, a living legend. He saw the tour in performance for the first time in almost two years this week in Boston, and gathered us all together afterward to give us his notes on our work. Obviously, everyone was very nervous, especially those of us who he had never seen before and who never received his direction from his own lips. Like most replacement actors, I learned my show from a dance captain and a stage manager and over the past year have received sporadic notes and coaching from our assistant director, whose job it is to interpret Mr. Nichols' directorial intentions and maintain the show to his specifications. To call Mr. Nichols' note session with us brutal would not be overstating things. He praised the company, and our talent and abilities, but he showed us a lot of tough love in that session--as he called it, he "beat us up a bit." But even though our egos were bruised by his comments, his intention was clear--to make sure that we don't fall into habitual patterns and technical tricks, but make it our business to keep the show simple, truthful and connected to real human experiences, even within the context of the absurd situations and technically perfected musical numbers. It's a tall order, but an opportunity for each of us to reach within as actors and bring more to what we do for the good of the piece, even after some of us have done over 1000 shows. This is the essence and the challenge of being a live performer--repeating the same tasks over and over again while managing to keep it fresh, true and real. Sometimes we all need a kick in the ass, and Mr. Nichols gave us a swift one, masterfully.

During this rather high pressure week, I have been given the blessing of spending time with my Mom, my biggest and most loving supporter, who I had not seen since our last stop in Boston in January. Her belief in me and the sheer joy that we share in each other's company is priceless and we had a lovely week, enjoying some nice meals and a stroll around the Museum of Fine Arts, reveling in the treasure trove of masterpieces that this world class museum offers.
We visited our favorite Impressionist works like Renoir's "Dance at Bourgival;" the dreamy Victorian love scene "The Painter's Honeymoon" by Lord Frederick Leighton; we had the pleasure of wandering into a special exhibit of the great portrait photographer Yousef Karsh, who captured the faces of some of the greatest people of the 20th century, from Picasso, to Churchill, to Einstein, to Audrey Hepburn.

Marvelous. I am deeply grateful for these treasured times I get to spend, however infrequently, with my Mom. She is a great human being, a wonderful artist, and my soul's friend. She inspires me and encourages me and reminds me that, no matter what mistakes I make or challenges I face, that I do what I do out of love and a desire to be the best artist and person I can be. I love you, Mom.




We are performing at the historic Colonial Theatre, where the "Spamalot" tour launched in 2006.
This jewel box of a theatre is also where I saw all of my first Broadway shows, including a touring company of "Annie" in the late 70s. I was maybe 12 years old and all the kids on stage were my age--I sat there in my nose bleed seat, dazzled and hungry to join them up there, dreaming of that day I might be in a Broadway musical. During the finale of our show one evening this week I looked out at that gold encrusted auditorium and thought, oh my God. I did it. I got my dream. I am up here performing a Broadway musical. How many people can say they have had a moment as ineffable and as magical as that? No matter what happens in terms of my future with this particular tour, I can be exceedingly grateful for my adventure thus far and the extraordinary achievement of a childhood dream. Life can be so humbling.

Remember Beverly?
She was my dresser at the Opera House the last time we were in Boston, and it is so nice to work with her again. She has a lovely energy and that fantastic Boston accent that makes me feel so at home. Beverly has the distinction of being the first dresser to make a return appearance in my blog. Thanks Bev! More from the city of my birth, Pittsburgh, PA, next week, friends.

Mermaids

Week 49: Norfolk, VA

I was last in Norfolk about ten years ago, performing at Virginia Stage Company in the zany two-man show by Charles Ludlum, "The Mystery of Irma Vep." A riotous spoof of gothic horror stories, the show requires two actors to take on several characters each, and jump in and out of them in a series of lightning fast costume changes.
Starring opposite the then artistic director of the theatre, Charlie Hensley, I played a shrieking lady of the manse, a hunchback caretaker who is also a werewolf, a Middle Eastern trail guide who sounded suspiciously like Peter Lorre, and an Egyptian princess raised from the dead. It was a hoot (that's me on the left as Lady Enid). I am glad to say that Virginia Stage Company is still here, in its lovely jewel box of a theatre, The Wells.

Norfolk is as I remembered it, with some improvements and developments, including a very fancy mall right in the downtown area where we are performing this week at Chrysler Hall. Norfolk has a long military and naval history reaching back to the Revolutionary War, during which the city was completely destroyed in battles with the British navy, then built up again in the Federalist period. There is a national maritime center here and a memorial to the great General Douglas MacArthur. Norfolk is also the cultural center of this region, known as Hampton Roads. A revitalization project started around 2000 gave the city it's symbol, the mermaid. And the little ladies are everywhere--on official buildings, signs, and throughout the city in the form of sculptures which were part of the "Parade of Mermaids" project benefitting the arts in Norfolk.




Due to a somewhat melancholy streak in my character, I have always enjoyed a rainy day with nothing pressing to do. I have always seen such days as an opportunity to commune with myself, and to do something solitary and introspective. Visiting a museum is the ideal activity, and on this rainy Thursday I took in the Chrysler Museum of Art here in Norfolk.
Incredible to me that I never visited when I was last in Norfolk (for several weeks). The museum is a gem, a sort of "mini-Met," its Tuscan style building housing a marvelous collection of antiquities, modern art, an extensive collection of glass, decorative arts and photography, as well as a large exhibit of neoclassical American marble sculptures. I realize that it makes me a fuddy-duddy art dork, but I had such a delightful time there. The staff is the warmest, most helpful and welcoming of any art museum I have been to. One of the staffers, a bright young lady named Michelle, joined me in the Art Nouveau room of the decorative arts collection and we had a stimulating chat about our shared obsession with visual art. Michelle told the director of the museum that one of the "Spamalot" actors was visiting, and he very generously sent her to me at my lunch table in the museum's charming cafe to present me with a stack of free admission coupons for the entire company! The welcoming atmosphere set the tone for a wonderful exploration of some very fine pieces of art--my Renaissance and Italian Baroque cravings being sated with canvases by Tintoretto and Veronese as well as the last known marble sculpture--a bust of Christ--by the great master Bernini, executed at the age of 80. There were some marvelous surprises, such as a dramatic painting, Orestes Pursued by the Furies, by Bougereau, featuring an incredibly erotic and beautiful male nude; another casting of Rodin's masterwork, Age of Bronze (you recall I saw one in Ottawa last week--I learned today that the execution of this nude sculpture is so fine that when it was first exhibited Rodin was accused of having made it from a life casting of his model, forcing him to produce the photographic studies he had worked from to sculpt the figure); and my favorite of the 19th century French paintings in the collection, Pierrot as Politician by Couture, depicting two businessmen, dressed in costumes on their way to a masked ball, discussing current events over a newspaper. The New York Times has described the Chrysler collection as "one any museum in the world would kill for," and it is easy to see why. Again, there is great beauty for us in unexpected places. We just have to get out our umbrellas and go look for it.



Friday was another rainy day and I decided to visit the Moses Myers house, an historical home in Norfolk that was built in the late 18th century by a Jewish shipping merchant and his family.
I was the only one to show up for the 3:00 tour, and so was treated to a private tour by a charming docent named Therese, who told me the story of the Myers family, the only Jewish family in Norfolk in the late 18th century. The family rose to a high position in society and was greatly respected. One of the sons of the family was the first Jew to graduate from the College of William and Mary, and graduated valedictorian; Moses Myers was awarded an official position by president John Quincy Adams. The house remained in the family line for five generations and so 70% of the furnishings and objects in the house are original. It's a beautiful Federal era home, full of the neoclassical flourishes that were popular in the period. It was a real treat to get a personal tour of the place and glimpse a bit of American history.



My dresser in Norfolk is Tanya. This is Tanya's first big show. She fell into backstage work after being dissatisfied with her former work options and finds she really loves the crazy world of the theatre. She has been level headed and a delight to work with all week. Great work, Tanya!

You will notice that I am three weeks away from the one year mark of my tour with "Spamalot." It's incredible to me how quickly the time has gone. By week 52, I will have played 38 cities across North America and done 352 performances. And it is likely that I will continue on with the tour, perhaps for another year. Next week in Boston, I will finally get to meet our venerable director Mike Nichols, who will be coming to see the show and give us his notes and insights. I am excited to have the opportunity not only to meet this legendary talent, but to receive direction from the man who created "Spamalot" with Eric Idle, John DuPrez and Casey Nicholaw. What, me nervous? Naw.... gulp!

A New Hope

Week 48: Ottawa, Ontario

Did you miss me?? Our two week layoff sped by, during which I caught up with old friends, celebrated my birthday, got my learner's permit, saw some shows and ate like a pig! Honestly, I think I went up two waist sizes. Oh well. Running around in chain mail will burn it off.

You can imagine how very strange it was to spend our opening night in the capital of Canada during the election of Barack Obama. After our performance, a big group of us went to a local pub and watched with eager anticipation and growing excitement as the returns came in and Obama emerged victorious. There was a wonderful feeling of fellowship amongst us, this little band of theatre folk in another country, feeling the pride of being Americans and the elation of being a part of history. It was the first time in years that I felt truly proud to be an American, and while President-Elect Obama has an arduous and heavy challenge ahead of him, I believe that he has the strength and vision to see us through. And perhaps now more Americans will be involved in the process and will participate in government and the furtherance of the causes they believe in. May God guide the footsteps of our 44th president.



Ottawa is our final Canadian stop on the tour. Located on the border between the provinces of Ontario and Quebec on the Ottawa River, the city's name is derived from the Odawa people, a native tribe that once occupied this region. There is a legend that the city was chosen to be the capital of Canada by Queen Victoria, who allegedly took her hatpin and stuck it in a spot halfway between Toronto and Montreal. With the city of Gatineau and the province of Quebec directly across the river, there is a decidedly French feeling to this area. Some of the architecture, from the houses of Parliament to the Fairmont Chateau Laurier Hotel, is truly majestic and very Parisian in feeling. French is spoken as much as English here and there is a rich multi-cultural life. "Spamalot" is performing in the vast National Arts Centre this week, and unlike our engagements in Vancouver and Toronto, our run is completely sold out here! It was a great feeling to return to the show after two weeks and to be received by such an enormous, effusive and supportive audience.



In my travels in Canada, I have visited some good art galleries, but have been disappointed in not finding a fine art museum that has the kind of European antiquities that I am passionate about. Well, the National Gallery of Canada here in Ottawa did not disappoint. What a marvelous structure, and the permanent collection is first rate.
I have a passion for the Italian Baroque as well as the Venetian artists of the 18th century, and this museum has many fine examples of both, in particular some very important large Venetian scenes by Canaletto. All periods of European painting are represented, with some fine examples by Rubens, Boticelli and others; there are some excellent Impressionist paintings including two stunning Monet landscapes, and one of Rodin's great bronzes, Age of Bronze. There was a temporary exhibit of American/Hungarian photographer Andre Keretsz that I found particularly exciting. Most of the photos were taken in the 20s and 30s in Paris and New York and Keretsz had a wonderful eye for detail that I really responded to. After my visit to the museum, I wandered through By Ward Market, one of Canada's oldest public markets, dating back to the early 19th century. This charming area is now home not only to produce and fine gourmet food stalls, but pubs and restaurants and fancy designer furniture and clothing stores. Ottawa is a classy town.

On Thursday, the company treated me and a few others who celebrated birthdays during the layoff to a birthday cake.
This is a "Spamalot" tradition--each member of cast and crew gets a cake on their birthday, usually presented at intermission of a performance, with much frivolity and good will. It was a nice surprise to have a second birthday celebration. With me in this photo are my buddy Tim and Francesca, one of our stage managers, who always takes on the duty of cutting and serving the birthday cakes.

My Ottawa dresser is Adelle.
This is only Adelle's second show and she has done a terrific job. She, like many of the dressers I have worked with on tour, came to wardrobe work after retirement and she seems to be enjoying herself amongst the crazies of the theatre! Ottawa has been a pleasant, successful and gratifying last stop in Canada. Next week, it's Norfolk, Virginia. Until then, best wishes to all.