500

Week 71: Anchorage, AK

This week, my friends Tim and Angela and I rented a car and drove out along Seward Highway in the direction of Portage glacier to take in the scenery. The Alaskan landscape is awe inspiring. Vast, unspoiled expanses of sea and snow, majestic mountain peaks and towering pines.
Waterfalls and mountain streams that trickle down the sides of steep rock faces that rise above one as one drives the coastal highways. Eagles circle overhead as the sunlight dazzles off the sparkling water and gleams across the polished, icy glazed surfaces of the craggy peaks. Chill, fresh mountain air fills the lungs and numbs the nose and cheeks. Surveying these panoramas, we couldn't help commenting on how small and insignificant we humans are in contrast with the awesome majesty of nature. Truly, I understand now why people choose to make this part of the world their home. Our little band scrambled over rocks, climbed to lookouts and visited a wildlife preservation center where we were able to view bison, moose, caribou.
We had the pleasure of watching a reindeer mom attending to her newborn calf, a fluffy black baby with spindly, still-uncertain legs. I think we tend to get so caught up in the little dramas of our lives, we humans, that we forget that there is a natural world out there, as basic as our true, essential selves, which exists in a timeless cycle that we would do well to connect with more often than we do. How fortunate we are also to live in such a vast and beautiful country that encompasses so many different landscapes and ecosystems. Talk about purple mountain's majesty.

This week marked my 500th performance in "Spamalot." This is half of what several original tour members have performed, but for me it's certainly a significant achievement, and the most performances I have ever given of any one role. It's a mindblower to think of the many places I have been and fine performers who have come and gone from our little "Spamily," and the thousands and thousands of people I have helped entertain over the past 16 months. All I can really say is that I am grateful as hell to have such a great job during these uncertain economic times and to be able to say I am a working actor. It's something I have spent many years dreaming of and struggling for, and to realize that I have been continuously employed as a performer for over a year is humbling and deeply gratifying.

Our second week in Anchorage has been certainly as successful as the first, with word of mouth bringing enthusiastic crowds to the theatre every night. John O'Hurley has integrated himself into our production with finesse and is now a charming, befuddled and delightful leader as King Arthur. We are able to jell somewhat now as a company after a flurry of changes in the cast, and all eyes are set on our San Francisco opening in a few weeks. California, and the happy promise of multi-week "sit downs" in San Francisco and LA have loomed on the horizon all winter, and we are all excited to be on the brink of getting there. From Alaska, we head to Eugene, Oregon, where I will be making a brief pilgrimage to Ashland and the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and then, when the company goes on to Spokane, Washington I will be taking a week's vacation to return to New York, conquer my nerves and nail my driving test! From there, it's a week in Denver and then on to our opening in San Francisco. Several of you have written me asking about dates beyond San Francisco, as the official "Spamalot" website has not posted dates yet. We will be at the Ahmanson Theatre in LA from July 7 through September 6, and a week in San Diego follows that engagement. September is as far as our official itinerary goes at present but the tour will continue beyond that.

Vicki is my dresser in Anchorage.
She trained originally to be an actress, and many years ago was offered a teaching job up here, fell in love with Alaska, and stayed. She has taught drama, debate and public speaking as well as math on the high school level up here, and keeps her hand in in the theatre world as often as possible, acting and working wardrobe among other activities. Our whole Anchorage crew has been a friendly, welcoming lot and it has been a most enjoyable engagement. I confess, however, that I am ready for the warm. Pretty as this part of the country is, I am hankering after some real spring weather. Perhaps it's waiting for us in Oregon. More from there next week.

Northern Exposure

Week 70: Anchorage, AK

Welcome back! I had a hectic, but ultimately good week off in New York. Got my taxes done, visited with old friends, and made it to three Broadway shows. I also took my driver's road test, but alas, nerves prevailed and I failed. Which means that in a couple week's time I will be taking a vacation in order to return to New York and retake the test. I am undaunted and determined to get to California as a licensed driver!

So here we are in Anchorage for almost two weeks. I admit that I wrote a whole blog post about my reaction to Alaska but discarded it because I realized that from where I have been and lived my whole life, the Alaskan way of life is something very foreign to me and I had a lot of judgments about it. While these observations may have been entertaining, they were ultimately unenlightened and needed rethinking! Alaska is remote, and the people who live here have a keen sense that they live in a place and a culture far removed from much of American life. As such, they take great pride in their way of life, and have an interesting paradoxical relationship with the wildlife and natural beauty that surrounds them. The animals that populate Alaska, from moose to caribou, from wolves to salmon, are celebrated everywhere here: on wall murals, statues in public squares, and in numerous depictions from fine art to tourist trap souvenirs. Wildlife is also seen as a source of income, commerce and sport for Alaskans. There seem to be almost as many fur shops in Anchorage than there are coffee shops and bars--which is saying a lot. Alaskans are passionate about coffee and love their microbrews and booze. Anchorage is a PETA supporter's worst nightmare. The minute you get off the plane you are confronted by an airport display of the trophies of the hunter and the taxidermist's art, in the form of decapitated moose and deer heads and even an entire stuffed polar bear in a glass case.
In an effort to understand the whole hunter culture I have visited websites and picked up pamphlets about things like "Predator Control," which essentially is the systematic slaughter of wolves and bears in the wild which feed on moose and caribou, thus leaving more moose and caribou for "harvesting" by hunters. I just wonder in what way the "harvesters" are different from the "predators." And I wonder too if moose and caribou meat and skins etc are of real use to people who don't necessarily live any more in an arctic wilderness. Again, I make assumptions. But blood sport holds no fascination for me and it is difficult for me to be open minded about it. There's also controversy here about efforts to get oil drilling going offshore and in nature preserves and national parks. This was, of course, one of the cornerstones of Sarah Palin's message during the presidential campaign. And again, it is part of the conundrum of human beings living so much surrounded by nature and wildlife, and yet having the usual human urges for comfort, profit and "progress." I had a surreal moment the other morning as I walked to the gym around 9AM and saw coming toward me a fancy hansom cab, led by two horses in jingle bell harnesses and driven by a man in a top hat. As the rig jingled past, I saw that in the back was someone dressed in a polar bear suit, holding up a sign that read, "Drill, Baby, Drill." It went along its way and I stood there and gaped, as local residents went about their business, completely oblivious to this bizarre nose-thumbing at environmental protection.




All of that said, there is much to appreciate about Anchorage, not the least of which is its gorgeous natural setting, surrounded by majestic snowy mountains, glaciers and expanses of mud flats. While it is not unusual to see a moose roaming the downtown streets, as of this writing, I have not yet had the pleasure of a sighting! The town itself is a unique mix of cultures and an odd assortment of buildings--while the people have a great deal of character and diversity, the town itself lacks a cohesive, attractive look. Lots of boxy structures , a few glass office buildings, and a plethora of souvenir shops, everything coated in a thin layer of grime from a hard winter of snow and road salt. There is an odd, suburban feeling mall in the center of town, and the large Alaska Center for the Performing Arts, where we make our home this week.
The Center was built in 1989 and our venue, the Atwood Concert Hall, has a very interesting and colorful interior, which resembles a series of teepees fanning out from the proscenium arch. Our audiences have been terrific and buzz around town has been ecstatic--there are some hardcore Monty Python fans out here, and on our opening night, they were cheering for familiar characters and situations as fast as we could parade them out for them! One thing that does characterize Anchorage is the food, glorious food. Wonderful restaurants abound here, from genteel Italian and Pan Asian bistros, to traditional seafood restaurants and brewhouses, to local favorites like the Snow City Cafe, which serves hearty breakfasts all day and makes the most delicious homemade granola (I bought a huge bag of it and eat it all day long). The popular bars, like Humpy's, where one can enjoy everything from trivia tournaments to live blues bands, are hopping every night of the week. I guess in a place where the winters are long and sometimes the sun never seems to set on a landscape that can be more than 20 degrees below zero much of the year, nice warm corners to eat a good meal or drink a nice brew are highly prized.

Now that the delightful John O'Hurley has opened as King Arthur, we do not have the same hectic schedule of rehearsals we were doing prior to the layoff. So Anchorage has been a place for quiet contemplation and lazy days of exploration, with plenty of free time to rest. The Anchorage Museum, regrettably, does not open until May, but I have had the pleasure of exploring some very nice art galleries featuring local artists, most choosing as their subjects the natural beauty of the region and the art of the indigenous cultures. Next week, a few of us are renting a car and driving out to view the glaciers and other wonders of the surrounding landscape. Full report and photos on that next week, when we will complete our two week run here in Alaska, and I will reach the 500th performance mark with the "Spamalot" tour! Phew!

King Richard's Himself Again

Week 69: Cleveland, OH

This week marked our last performances with Richard Chamberlain, as well as a landmark birthday for our reigning king--his 75th. I wish I could adequately express my admiration for "Mr. C." (as I have come to call him) and the work he has done with us in his three months with "Spamalot." He has been a study in devotion and personal discipline. He literally spent every day in his hotel room, resting and preparing for each performance; he ran through his entire show in his dressing room before going on every night. Richard is also an inspiration to those of us who aspire to longevity in our careers as actors: he is fit, vital, loves performing, and didn't miss a single one of his shows during his time with us. I hope that when I reach 75 I will be doing just what Mr. C. is doing, and will be as loved and respected as his fans have shown him to be, with a standing ovation each and every night. On our opening night here, Richard was presented with an enormous birthday cake on stage after curtain call in front of a cheering crowd. It was a great moment. I will miss Richard's kindness, gentleness and enthusiasm. All the best, always, Mr. C.

When we arrived in Cleveland, it was still in the grip of winter, but as the week has progressed, the weather has gotten more and more springlike. However, Cleveland is vying with Oklahoma City for windiest city I have been to on this tour. The gusts that whip across the city off Lake Erie are something fierce. Cleveland has a nice, solid look and has many large, imposing neoclassical pre-war buildings and impressive monuments. These are the result of the 1903 Group Plan, and constitute one of the most complete examples of "City Beautiful" design in the United States. We are staying in Playhouse Square, where our theatre, The Palace, shares the district with the Ohio, Allen, State and Hanna theatres, making it the largest U.S. performing arts center, after Lincoln Center in New York.
Cleveland is a theatre town, with two large regional theatres and numerous other performing arts institutions. The Palace is a magnificent theatre, originally built in 1922 as a vaudeville circuit theatre, in the French Renaissance style, with rose damask walls and Carrara Marble, crystal chandeliers and a glorious domed ceiling medallion. With its more than 3,000 seats and the opulence of its interior, it is one of the finest theatres I have played in my months on this tour.

On Wednesday I went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Why, you may ask, is this venerable institution in Cleveland? Well, in the 1950s, legendary DJ Alan Freed coined the term "rock and roll" to describe the upbeat rhythm and blues music by black artists which he was then promoting on his popular Cleveland radio program. Thus, Cleveland became the birthplace of rock and roll. The Hall of Fame is a magnificent complex, housed in what looks like a glass pyramid perched on the edge of Lake Erie. It is an overwhelming collection of memorabilia and artifacts, interactive displays and multi-media installations spanning the entire history of rock and roll, from its roots in the blues and gospel music through the decades. In short, it is the Smithsonian of rock and roll music. One needs far more than the two hours I allotted myself to explore the museum, and after a while my head began to swim from all the stimulation, both visual and aural. I loved seeing the stage costumes of some of the greats of popular music, from Madonna's bustiers, to Michael Jackson's rhinestone studded white glove, to David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust costumes.
My two favorite things in the Hall of Fame were: a film instillation called "Video Killed the Radio Star" which is a brilliantly edited exploration of the impact of the music video both on music and popular culture--really fantastic piece of film making, presented on multiple screens in a dazzling display; and a small piece of history--a handwritten letter from Dusty Springfield to her producer regarding the songs she was choosing to record for her legendary "Dusty in Memphis" album. This album is a masterpiece and one of my favorites of all time, and to see this early bit of creative conception from one of my absolutely favorite artists was a real treat. Goosebumps! The current special exhibition is on Bruce Springsteen, and chronicles his career via some wonderful memorabilia, much of it from The Boss's own collection. There was a quote from him in the exhibit that really resonated with me, so I wrote it down:

I believe that the life of a Rock and Roll band will last as long as you look down into the audience and can see yourself, and your audience looks up at you and can see themselves, and as long as those reflections are human, realistic ones.

Words to work by for any live performer, in my opinion. Check out the Hall of Fame when you are next in Cleveland. By revisiting the history of American music, we find that we are exploring the history of Americans. Very cool.

On a rainy afternoon I went out via public transport, through the sprawling Case Western Reserve University campus, to the Cleveland Museum of Art. The museum is undergoing extensive renovations at this time, so a good portion of the collection was closed to the public; nevertheless, what was accessible was well worth the trip. The highlight of my visit was the current special exhibition of the captivating photography of Lee Friedlander. I think I have mentioned before my love of photography, and my enjoyment of taking photos myself. I have also mentioned that one of the pleasures of traveling and seeing as much art as I have been fortunate enough to see, is the discovery of artists whose work really excites me and makes me an instant fan. I had this experience with photographer Andre Kertesz, and now I am completely enamored of Friedlander.
Many may know his work for his wonderful portraits of famous musicians like Aretha Franklin and Miles Davis, but Friedlander's range extends far beyond portraiture-- to incredible landscape photography, to the capturing of remarkable images of American life through a unique and sublimely wise and ironic eye. His self portraits are wonderful, and are often simply his capturing of his own shadow projected on to a person or place he is photographing. He loves to view things in layers, calling our attention not just to the central subject of a photo, but forcing us to view it through reflective glass, or beyond obstructions in the foreground, or in contrast with other elements in the frame. I just loved seeing his work, which ranges from gritty candid moments to sublime, sensual images of nature. I found myself laughing out loud at the unique moments that his subtly humorous eye captures. I related strongly to his vision, and was inspired to take more photos myself--and I think all great artists inspire others to want to view life in their own particular way, and to create. I love this quote from Friedlander, which gives real insight to his artistic view:

I only wanted Uncle Vern standing by his new car... on a clear day, I got him and the car. I also got a bit of Aunt Mary's laundry and Beau Jack, the dog, peeing on a fence, and... seventy-eight trees and a million pebbles in the driveway and more. It's a generous medium, photography.

--Lee Friedlander, 1996

No trip to a fine art museum for me would be complete without exploring what they have from the Baroque period. One really beautiful gallery contrasts the opposing movements of the period: Naturalism, as exemplified by Caravaggio, and Idealism, as represented by Guido Reni and his followers.
Obviously, I prefer the more dramatic, full blooded work of the Naturalists, and was delighted to see that the museum possesses a Caravaggio, "The Crucifixion of St. Andrew." With unflinching honesty and an understanding of the human form in all its complexity, the master gives us a scene of rich, earthy power. Other favorites of mine in the Cleveland collection are the completely delicious "Cupid and Psyche" by David, a portrait of a mischievous adolescent boy rising from the bed of pleasure, where his ivory skinned lover lies sleeping. Cupid looks straight out at us with a grin and a decided twinkle in his eye, which makes this painting wonderfully naughty. I also fell for a small portrait by 18th century French artist Nicholas de Largillierre, of the Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil.
Eschewing the notion of idealizing his subject, de Largillierre gives us a strong, optimistic young man with a slight shadow of a beard, wonderfully textured clothes, and even the fallout of white dust on his shoulders from his fashionably powdered hair. I find it most fascinating to notice what an artist chooses to include within the frame of his image (whether photograph or painting) and what he leaves out.



Beverly is my Cleveland dresser.
She has been working in wardrobe for 40 years and dressed Sir Robin the first time the tour came through two years ago. It is always a pleasure to work with the seasoned pros who have dedicated a lifetime to the work of the theatre. Well, that's it for Cleveland. We are all very much looking forward to our week off next week before our two week engagement in Anchorage, Alaska, where we hope we will not be buried in molten lava from the increasingly restless Mount Redoubt. More in two weeks, friends, from Anchorage.