From Rocket City to the Space Coast

Week 64: Melbourne, FL

I apologize in advance. This will probably prove to be the most boring blog post I have yet published. Mea Culpa. Problem is, I have not done a whole lot here in Melbourne this week! Our hotel is, as it frequently can be, on a highway. Everything has to be driven to and I am carpooling again this week. So I have not gotten around much. That said, just to be in a climate, at long last, where you can wear shorts and a t-shirt is in itself an event!

On Friday, my Aunt Nancy and Uncle Larry came by and whisked me off to their vacation condo on Satellite Beach.
This was my only opportunity to get to the beach this week and it was made doubly pleasurable by the opportunity to see my relatives. Nancy and Larry are enjoying a glorious retirement. These folks get around! They travel all the time and drive from one end of the US to the other. They have been coming to this part of Florida for almost a decade every year. Their place is right on the water and I imagine falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the surf right under one's window must be heavenly. I have a special connection to beaches and to the sea. I think all people who grew up, as I did, on a coastline, respond with a deep intuitive feeling to the ocean. My aunt and uncle strolled for a while on the sand with me (they are inspiringly appreciative of all of nature, pointing out the various sea birds, the colors of the sea and sky, and other beauties) and then let me walk on myself. There is something deeply healing about a long walk on a beach--the lull of the steady surf in your ears, the fresh salt air, the sun on your back and the feel of your feet sinking in the sand or plashing through the water's edge. My mother taught me the therapeutic and spiritually renewing value of a long beach walk. It was something we did a lot together as I was growing up in New England. And for Mom, that ritual was something that she made time for when we were kids, driving up to Maine, taking a motel room for me and my siblings and herself, just so she could get up at dawn and "walk the beach." It was there, with the sea whispering to her, that she sorted out the tough decisions of her life, said a silent prayer, visualized her future. Walking on Satellite Beach allowed me the time to think about how far I have come in the past year or two, and to contemplate where my next steps will take me.

We've had delightful audiences here in Melbourne at the Maxwell C. King Center for the Performing Arts. Both audience members and press have remarked on what a tonic "Spamalot" is for people immersed in the gloom and anxiety of our country's economic dilemma. Just to get out amongst a group of other human beings and laugh for two hours seems to be what the doctor ordered. It feels good to provide that relief for people. I firmly believe that we will pull ourselves out of this difficult time. It's important to stay positive and, yes, look on "the bright side." My dresser in Melbourne has been the lovely Christine.
Christine lived in Norway most of her life and has been in the states for a couple of years. She is by trade a lighting person/electrician, but the nature of stagehand work is that you take whatever employment is available. So this week Christine gets to operate zippers instead of lighting boards. Thanks for taking good care of me and Jeff Dumas this week, Christine! And with that folks, we wrap up our weekend here and move on to Tampa on Monday. Maybe I will have a better story to share next week, or at the very least, have a tan line.

Sudden Spring

Week 63: Hunstville, AL

The only thing I regret about my past is the length of it.
If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner.
--Tallulah Bankhead

After the shameful dilapidation and neglect of Detroit, there couldn't be a starker contrast than picturesque Huntsville. Civic pride is everywhere here; the streets, parks and buildings pristine and meticulously clean. Citations for "beautification" from the city are posted everywhere. It's so clean, the only graffiti I have seen here is one sentence scrawled in magic marker on the side of a building that reads, "Beauty is all around, waiting to be found!" Huntsville is sort of the epitome of a small Southern city--it reminds me a bit of Greenville, S.C. but not quite as hip and artsy. Our hotel and our venue, the Von Braun Civic Center, lie adjacent to charming Big Spring Park, which is beautifully landscaped, its pond inhabited by migratory flocks of geese.
The Hunstville Museum of Art is also located in the park. The handsome building is about ten years old, and while it seems to have a great deal of public support, it has no permanent collection on display and the current exhibits I found rather meagre and not especially interesting; although there was a collection of silver animals executed in exquisite detail by the Italian silver artisans at the House of Buccellati. The museum seems mainly to be a venue for events and weddings. Yet, Huntsville's true art exhibition is its extraordinary historic districts full of magnificent Federalist and antebellum homes.

On Wednesday of this week there was a sudden heat wave. The temperature rose into the 70's with humid balmy breezes and bright sunshine. I saw my first robins of spring as I roamed the Twickenham and Old Town Historic Districts, marveling at the period homes, all immaculately restored and wonderfully maintained. One historic home is open to the public and I stopped in for a very entertaining tour.
The Howard Weeden House was built in 1819 and was home to artist and poet Maria Howard Weeden. Weeden was born in the house, but her family had to flee when Union soldiers commandeered the home during the Civil War. Upon the return of the Weeden family, the house had been looted and the family was impoverished. Maria (who was called by her middle name, "Howard") had a talent for art and for writing and she became fascinated by the African American ex-slaves who lived in the Huntsville area. She began painting sensitive and finely executed portraits of various black inhabitants of the town, and published several books of her paintings which were accompanied by poems and "ballads" that Weeden wrote based upon the stories told to her by these early African Americans. The poems are written in the original dialect and are meant to capture the essence of the slave vernacular with authenticity and affection. Unfortunately her works are not only largely forgotten but there have been efforts to suppress them as being disrespectful to African Americans.
However, Weeden House director Barbara Lauster-Scott has great reverence for these works and has devoted herself to educating the public about Howard Weeden and her legacy, while single handedly keeping this historic home operating as a museum. Barbara alone is worth the $5 admission fee! A charming, articulate woman with a delightful sense of humor and a rich Southern drawl, Barbara can recite all 200 of Weeden's poems and gave us a sampling of them during our tour. She regaled us with history, ghost stories about specters seen and heard within the house, and delightful tales of the visitors who have passed through the museum. We were allowed to roam the house and take photographs following Barbara's 25 minute lecture. Regrettably, the museum receives no public funding and so the house is in disrepair and badly in need of restoration and refurbishment. The few objects and pieces of Federalist furniture are in a sorry state, although the house itself is a lovely early 19th century structure and there are several fine period portraits on display, as well as original etchings of Weeden's work. It seems to me that while that work is a reminder of the shameful history of slavery in America, it is also a record of a generation of African Americans that we otherwise wouldn't have; the paintings are so fine and so detailed that Selznick Studios used them as reference material for the design of the slave costumes in "Gone With the Wind." It's hard to believe that the State of Alabama, as well as organizations to preserve African American heritage, would not want to provide funding to keep this, the oldest historic home in Alabama that is continuously open to the public, in better condition for generations to come.




I suppose the most famous person to come out of Huntsville is the late, great Tallulah Bankhead.
This husky voiced, outrageous star from the golden age of Hollywood is one of my favorites. Her birthplace is still here, and there is a Bankhead Parkway, which is named after Tallulah's father, who was one of the leading citizens of Huntsville and a speaker in the House of Representatives. Tallulah started as a popular stage actress, originating many great roles including the viperous Southern belle Regina Giddons in "The Little Foxes," and went on to make many Hollywood films, most notably "Life Boat." She was famous for her cocaine habit and alcoholism, her bisexual antics, and for calling everyone 'Dahling'--which she admitted she did because she could never remember anyone's name. The anecdotes about Tallulah are legion (and I can pull any number of them out of a hat at parties, complete with vocal impressions of Bankhead), including the one in which she was meeting with Eleanor Roosevelt at the White House and had to use the toilet. She apparently kept the conversation going with the First Lady while seated on the pot with the door open! And this is one of the tamer tales of Tallulah's merry hijinks.

Huntsville has been nicknamed "Rocket City," as it is the home of the Marshall Space Flight Center and the Redstone Arsenal. There are also tourist and family attractions like the U.S. Space and Rocket Center and the U.S. Space Camp. Some of the company members took a "field trip" to the center to take a dip in the large tanks that the astronauts use for zero gravity training. I opted not to take the plunge, but I am sure a good, wet time was had by all. I have been content to keep a simple schedule, absorb the quaint beauties of the town and perform for the enthusiastic crowds our show has attracted here in Huntsville. As quickly as the spring weather came, it vanished, the temperature plummeting and bringing with it a chilly wind. It's easy to endure the nippy air as we are heading to Florida next week for two whole weeks. Big sigh! I also received good news this week that I will be continuing on with the tour at least until fall, which means the highly anticipated West Coast premiere of "Spamalot" in San Francisco and Los Angeles this summer! The adventure continues...

Look who it is!
I was reunited with my dresser from Birmingham this week, the lovely Sandy. Sandy is a salt of the earth lady, and I was so happy to work with her again this week. As I mentioned back in Birmingham, she is a cancer survivor and a union activist, as well as a talented interior decorator. She had her birthday this week and it was nice to be able to celebrate with her. Well, it's off to palm trees and balmy breezes. I don't mean to rub it in, honest, but the Florida weather will be a welcome change.

Urban Sprawl

Week 62: Detroit, MI


Downtown Detroit is, I am sorry to say, a dying city. It is a depressed, desolate place in many ways. I have become friends with some local people who live outside the city limits and who despair of Detroit proper ever returning to a place of vitality and life. Detroit is a place that reflects the struggles of industry, the impact of the economy and the tragedy of a palpable racial divide. Life is very different 20 to 30 minutes in any direction outside of Motor City. The suburbs are thriving, self contained little communities. One such picturesque town is Birmingham, a neighboring community to Troy, where our hotels are. Ed, a new friend who lives in Birmingham, showed me around this affluent enclave, full of lakeside homes, trendy shops and quaint streets. We did some window shopping and I finally accepted my need for reading glasses and purchased a snazzy pair at Optik, a high end optical boutique. If I'm gonna get old, I am gonna do it in style!
Near Birmingham, in Bloomfield Hills, is the campus of Cranbrook, a private school and art academy on a beautiful stretch of ground with buildings designed by Eliel Saarinen in the Arts and Crafts style. The Cranbrook Museum of Art (which was regrettably closed the day we visited) is a lovely building, like a Greek temple in the Art Deco style, and surrounded by wonderful sculptures by Swedish sculptor Carl Milles. I am quite sure the Cranbrook campus is just lovely in warmer weather, with the trees in bloom and the fountains and reflecting pools in operation. It was nice to see this National Historic Landmark, even if only for few moments, and take some photos.

My week has mostly been taken up with the show, a photo shoot with renowned Broadway photographer Joan Marcus (who came out to shoot pictures of Richard Chamberlain and our other new principals), my workout schedule, my taxes, and enjoying the schizophrenic Michigan midwinter weather, which has ranged from humid days of pouring rain to icy deep freezes. During this time I have also had the pleasure of some quiet contemplation, and the joy of receiving some wonderful emails from audience members here in Detroit who have loved the show, and from dear new friends that I have made along the way as I have toured with the show. I find that I have been extraordinarily blessed to have been reached out to by some amazing people, who have shared their stories with me and who have renewed my faith in the spirit and the strength that are in all of us. You have reached out to me in kindness and generosity and have given me the gift of allowing me to touch your lives as well. It is easy these days to focus on the stress and anxiety that come with the challenges that our country and our world are facing. Easy to look at the deserted streets of Detroit, for example, and feel a sense of futility. But if we just reach out a little--allow our inner knowing to extend itself--we realize that these things are cyclical, that life ebbs and flows, and that out of the ashes of what is lost arises new life and new opportunity. As we pass through transitions like this, our greatest power is in our ability to be kind, loving, and generous with each other. I would like to think that, as an actor, I am privileged to reach out to so many more people with my enthusiasm, and my hope, and my love, than most get to do. The message of our show, underneath the sight gags and the glitter, is timely. "If life seems jolly rotten, there's something you've forgotten: and that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing." Thanks to all of you who have written and shared with me that what I do has lifted you up. I am so grateful to have the chance to share that with you.

Now, as sadly ruined as Detroit is there is still beauty. As you know, one of my determinations in life is to seek beauty everywhere I go. Thus my obsession with art museums. The Detroit Institute of the Arts does not disappoint. It's a really terrific museum with masterpieces from all periods. I feel that they work a little too hard at making the museum "visitor friendly" and educating people on art. Every gallery is full of interactive displays and many of the exhibits are designed to compare and contrast paintings from various artists and periods. While I am sure it makes museum going more educational and fun for kids, for me it was just distracting and cluttered and drew attention away from a simple appreciation of the work.
That said, my hunger for the Italian Baroque was wonderfully sated in the gallery devoted to the Carravagisti. At the glowing center of the collection is a piece by the master himself, Martha and Mary Magdalene, by Caravaggio. Luminous, rich, startlingly real, it is, as are all of his works, astonishing. I was even allowed to take flash free photos of the piece which was incredible. Alongside this masterwork are others by some of the most accomplished painters of the school, including one by Orazio Gentileschi and one by his daughter, Artemisia. The story of this wonderful Baroque painter, the first woman to be admitted into the Accademia di Arte del Disegno in Florence, is one of the great stories of classical art. There is a film called "Artemisia" that is well worth adding to your Netflix queue. Anyway, it was wonderful to see these representatives of my favorite school of art in Detroit. There are many more treasures in the DIA, including wonderful WPA murals by Diego Rivera, the famous Wedding Dance by Breughel, a marvelous collection of portraits by John Singleton Copley. They were showing a special exhibit of photographs of artists taken by other artists. Among the photographers represented were favorites of mine, like Andre Kertesz and George Platt Lynes. It does the soul good to see such a rich and varied trove of artistic wonders, even in a troubled city like Detroit. Thank you Ed, for taking me there and for a memorable afternoon.

Meet Pam, my wonderful Detroit dresser.
Pam is a continual surprise. With a gentle, unassuming personality and a quiet touch, she is also funny and stylish and irreverent. One evening after the show we were chatting about a post show drink, and she piped up that for her it would be a dirty martini-and a cigar! I was so tickled by that. Pam started in the wardrobe world as a stitcher at a young age and has done virtually every aspect of wardrobe work over a career of 30 years. She has grown kids and a husband and is now coming into that time (that hopefully we all come to) when it is time to focus on herself and doing things that are fulfilling and creative for Pam. I have been going through an introspective time of new understanding and spiritual growth and I have recognized a kindred spirit in Pam. Our conversations have really been a comfort and a pleasure during my time in Detroit. All the best to you Pam! We begin our Southern migration next week in Huntsville, Alabama. Here's to warmer climes and happy times.

Patsy Redux

Week 61: Detroit, MI

With the departure of dear Brad Bradley, the "Spamalot" tour welcomes back Jeff Dumas as Patsy. Jeff was the original Patsy on the tour and spent two years performing the role on the road, earning himself a Helen Hayes Award for his portrayal along the way. Jeff is a supremely talented man, a true "triple threat"--actor, singer and dancer. And at 5'2" he makes me feel tall, which is rather nice for a change. Ha ha. Just joking. It's great to have Jeff back in the fold. As far as I am aware, this should be the last change of cast on the tour for a while; John O'Hurley will join us as King Arthur after Richard Chamberlain completes his three month run with us, but in the meantime we can settle a bit and allow the new people to jell with us.

Driving into Detroit for work from the somewhat cushy suburb of Troy, where we are staying for the next two weeks, one can see the signs of a failing local economy and a city in a difficult transition. Run down neighborhoods with boarded up houses and businesses, litter and graffiti, and dirty, abandoned streets are the landscape one passes through on the edges of this city. We are performing at the Fisher Theatre these two weeks in Detroit.
The theatre is housed in a fabulous Art Deco skyscraper built in 1928, which still retains its original barrel vaulted lobby, complete with mammoth Deco lighting fixtures, elaborate ceiling murals, and a design that incorporates forty different kinds of marble. The theatre was built as a vaudeville house in the same period and was originally decorated in an Aztec style, with Mexican-Indian artworks and live macaws that were allowed to roam free and eat out of patrons' hands!
After years of operating as a movie house, the theatre went through an extensive renovation in 1961 which gave it its current look. It is extremely dated, with walls decorated in big ovals made of pegboard, stipple painted in metallic gold and framed out with white moldings. It's pretty tacky, and appears even more so in contrast with the stunning Deco lobby. Take a gander at this vintage photo I found of the original theatre interior. Wow.

For those of you with an interest in the ongoing back stage life of the tour, and the ways in which our show is maintained, this week we had a visit from a dialect specialist who worked with each of the leading actors on our British accents. Yes, even after hundreds of performances, there is still room for improvement! Ben Furey, the dialect coach, is very highly regarded and works on many big scale projects including the Broadway production of "Billy Elliott." He is also a Brit, so his ear is especially tuned to the sound of the various English accents. I had an hour session with Ben, during which he was able to work with me on refining and fine tuning the sound of my various characters, differentiating a more upper class British sound for Sir Robin from a more working class or "Cockney" sound for the guards I play--and for Robin before he becomes a knight. I was happy to discover that most of what I have been doing is on the money. The adjustments Ben gave me really helped me to polish up my performance and to be more aware of the sounds I am making. I hope that this gives you a sense of how vigilant everyone is about making sure that our product is the very best quality it can be.

I wish I could say that I did a whole bunch of sightseeing and museum visiting this week in Detroit, but, alas, no. I have spent the week pretty much working out, organizing my 2008 tax papers and receipts (UGH) and doing the show. And a few driving lessons thrown in for good measure. Sometimes, even life on a national touring production is ho hum and routine! But there can be satisfaction in keeping a simple schedule. I'll tell you, though, I will be very glad when we have finished our wintry midwest portion of the tour and can enjoy a few weeks down south in more hospitable weather!! Hope this finds you well and staying warm wherever you are. More from Detroit next week.