Where Does the Time Go?

Week 79: San Francisco, CA

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time
Any fool can do it
There aint nothing to it
Nobody knows how we got to
The top of the hill
But since we're on our way down
We might as well enjoy the ride...
--James Taylor

The passage of time. It's a real head trip, isn't it? It doesn't seem to go so fast, and then suddenly something happens to make you realize that, good Lord, it was a blink of the eye. I have been having this experience a lot this week. Monday, on my day off, I took Caltrain down to San Jose to visit my brother Alex and his family: my sister-in-law Patricia, nephew Ben, and my nieces Zoe and Isobel, who I introduced you to last week. The hour and a half train ride from San Francisco was relaxing and it was interesting to watch the little communities go by as we moved further into the suburbs--places with names like Redwood City, Menlo Park and Sunnyvale. Each train station had it's own unique depot, from streamlined 1950's art deco to old fashioned gingerbread buildings right out of "Hello, Dolly!."
It had been a number of years since I had visited my brother, who lives in the Silicon Valley because of his position at Apple, and that blow to the solar plexus one feels when one recognizes the passage of time hit me as we pulled into their driveway. Alex is a great guy, wonderful at his job, and a terrific father to his three kids. His hair is gray now and I recognize we have both gotten older (when did it happen?), but even more shocking was the little adults his three kids have become--well, Ben is far from little; at 16 years old and 6'5", he is a young man now. A talented musician, popular with his friends, and a water polo player and swimming coach. I definitely missed the growing up years of these fine kids, immersed as I was for so long in my life in New York, struggling to get my career going and cocooned within the relationship with my ex partner. It's hard not to have regrets. But my day with Alex and his kids-- hiking at a nearby park, taking photos of nature and enjoying the California sunshine--was so great that I felt that the passage of time had not taken away the feelings of appreciation and affection that I have for this wonderful family. When we return in September to play "Spamalot" in San Jose, I will get another good visit with them.

More blows to the solar plexus came this week as the world reeled from a series of celebrity deaths: Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and most shocking, Michael Jackson. You know you are getting older when the icons of your youth are passing on. Michael Jackson, and what he represented for my generation, had nothing to do with bizarre antics, plastic surgeries and child molestation charges.
Michael was only 7 years older than I, and as a kid aspiring to show business, he and his brothers were a miracle to me. I watched their animated series on Saturday mornings, I collected their records. When I was in college, Michael broke out on his own with two magnificent albums, "Off the Wall" and "Thriller." He revolutionized the music industry by virtually creating what we now know as the music video. In short, as strange as he was, he was a brilliant artist and a part of our history. And of course, seeing him pass at the age of 50 just brings back that sense of awe about time. Where did it all go? On stage in "Spamalot" this Thursday, the day of Jackson's death, some of the performers added little touches of homage to their performances; the nun in the nun/monk pas de deux in the "Camelot" number exited doing the moonwalk, to great applause.

I have not done any sightseeing this week aside from my trip to San Jose, as I have been resting up for the busy Gay Pride weekend to come and finalizing plans for my apartment, car, etc. in Los Angeles, where we will be week after next. However, I did have the chance to speak to a group of adorable drama camp students at my friend Russell Blackwood's theatre here in San Francisco. Russell's company is called Thrillpeddlers, and they perform in a crazy barn of a space called the Hypnodrome.
Russ and I went to college together more than 25 years ago (again, where did it go?!), and he is an enormously talented man--he has directed everything from Shakespeare to opera, he is a fine actor, and he has a quirky, smart and outrageous sensibility which is reflected in his company's work. Thrillpeddlers presents classics of the Grand Guignol (a 19th century theatrical movement that was a precursor to what we now think of as the horror/thriller genre), and revive some of the most bizzare plays from fringe artists like Charles Ludlam and Charles Busch. I had such a nice time chatting with Russell's students about life in the business and life on the road--and as I sat there giving sage advice about 'the biz' to those open, young faces I thought, wasn't it just yesterday that I was that age? Hopeful, enthusiastic, with stars in my eyes? And then I realized, even with the passage of time, I still have that little kid inside. I hope I never lose him. As James Taylor advises, it's about enjoying the ride. We just need to make sure we keep our eyes open and don't miss all the special stuff along the way. Enjoy the moment, everyone.

Now the thing about time is that time
Isnt really real
Its just your point of view
How does it feel for you
Einstein said he could never understand it all
Planets spinning through space
The smile upon your face
Welcome to the human race...

Good Causes and Bad Pickles

Week 78: San Francisco, CA

On Monday night this week, members of the company of "Spamalot" and the cast of the San Francisco company of "Wicked" came together to present a one night only performance to benefit the Richmond Ermet AIDS Foundation (REAF) and Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. From the beginning of the AIDS crisis, performing artists have been at the forefront of the fundraising effort, giving of their hearts and talents to help raise awareness and much needed money for AIDS related causes. As a cabaret artist in New York in the '90s, I performed in literally hundreds of these evenings, and it is always an uplifting experience. Monday was no exception. We performed at a charming little theatre on Pier 39 at busy, touristy Fisherman's Wharf, and our show was sold out. It was so great to see an enthusiastic audience come out, even in these difficult economic times, to give of themselves for this worthy cause. And our performers and volunteer crew put on a fabulous evening. It's always great to see my fellow artists step outside of their roles in the show and do something that expresses their other facets and talents; we have amazing musicians and dancers within our ranks, as well as gifted comedians and songwriters.
I had the honor of opening the show with a song that had been hand picked for me by my dear friend, and the benefit's indefatigable director, Tim Connell. It's called "Stupid Things I Won't Do," and is by musical theatre songwriter William Finn; it's a diatribe by a theatrical snob about how he won't live the humdrum life outside the rarefied world of show business. I really put on the dog, with a natty suit and fedora and had a blast. Ultimately, we raised a nice amount of money through ticket sales and our silent auction, and the audience was treated to an evening that was moving, funny and inspired. What an honor it always is to be able to give something back with love and creativity.

Every cultural minority has its "soul food." I have mentioned before that I am the token Jew on the tour, and usually this doesn't bother me at all. It's nice to be the one to chime in with a good Jewish joke or a bit of Yiddish now and then, and it certainly adds to the secret pleasure of performing "You Won't Succeed on Broadway (If You Don't Have Any Jews)." Every now and then I get a hankering for some Jewish soul food. Sometimes these moments creep up on me because I am homesick for New York, sometimes because I miss my Mom and my childhood. When one of these cravings hit, I go searching for a little Jewish food fix.
On my way to work I pass a place called David's Delicatessen on Geary Street so one day this week I stopped in. The place looks authentic, except both times I have been in it has been rather empty and quiet. They boast that they have provided a "real Jewish deli" to San Francisco for over 50 years and claim to have all the traditional delicacies, from knishes to matzoh ball soup. My craving that day was for a good boiled brisket sandwich on rye, some chopped chicken liver with schmaltz (chicken fat), a good pickle, and a Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray (celery flavored--believe me it's good) Soda. As you can tell, traditional Jewish deli food was conceived pre-cholesterol awareness!! So, the review. Well, the brisket was quite good, a little fattier than I like, but nicely accompanied by brown gravy and served on caraway rye. The chopped liver was also excellent but lacked salt. The accoutrements were what truly disappointed. The potato salad was not traditional Jewish potato salad, the big problem being chunks of hard boiled egg in it. I know enough about Southern cooking to know that hard boiled egg in potato salad is really more a Southern thing. The big disappointment was the pickle. A pickle, you say? How can the wrong pickle spoil an otherwise decent meal? Well, my gentile friend, the pickle in a Jewish deli meal is the high note at the end of the concerto. It's the bit of bite and sourness that finishes the whole experience. At David's, they gave me three crinkle cut sour pickles right out of a jar of Vlasic. Uh uh. That's not the real McCoy. What you want with a good Jewish deli sandwich is a kosher garlic dill spear pickle, with a mild garlicky flavor--or better, a green pickled tomato (but you can only get that in New York). So, I give David's a B overall. My dresser, Lorraine, who is married to an expatriate New York Jew, has given me a couple other places to try for an authentic experience so my mission before I leave here is to find the best Jewish deli in San Francisco! I will keep you posted.

My week finished out with a day of fun spent with my sister-in-law, Patricia, and my two nieces, Zoe and Isobel. They took me to Golden Gate Park on a spectacularly summery day, and we enjoyed this world class public park, with it's splendid botanical and rose gardens and museums. We spent a couple hours struggling to get through the overcrowded, very popular California Academy of Sciences. This amazing complex, which I understand has been recently expanded and refurbished, contains an aquarium and a replica of a rainforest among other treats.
It was fun to spend time with Zoe and Izzy, neither of whom I know very well because we live cross country from each other, and who have simply gone from the little girls I knew to intelligent, articulate young ladies. Both are very artistic and interested in drama, both have beautiful skin, long lean figures and lush curly blonde hair. Nothing makes you feel older than to see your brother's kids becoming young adults! In the picture, that's Isobel on the left and Zoe on the right. I greatly enjoyed the day and am looking forward to going out to their home turf of San Jose next week, where I will also get to hang out with my brother Alex and my nephew Ben. Yet another perk of this tour--I have the chance to visit my family. I can't believe we have already done five weeks in San Francisco! It has sped by, and excited as I am about being in LA for the first time, I am going to miss this town. I have fallen hard for the City by the Bay. Well, two more weeks to go here in SF. Stay tuned.

Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay

Week 77: San Francisco, CA

On our day off this week, my pal Lenny and I decided to take the ferry across the bay to Sausalito. This charming little community was at one time an artist's enclave, and still retains a sort of laid back vibe, although it is now a pretty exclusive and chi-chi area. The ferry ride was very pleasant and as we pulled away from the stunning San Francisco skyline, the temperature rose and the day gave way to bright sunshine and early summer weather the likes of which one does not get in San Francisco proper (there's always a nip in the air). Arriving in Sausalito, I was reminded of little seaside towns on the Mediterranean, like San Tropez or Nice. The marina is full of vessels of various kinds, and a community of some 400 houseboats, which lend a unique charm. The town rises up from the bay in tiers of Spanish style villas and modern condos nestled in lush tropical plantings. It's really beautiful. The main drag of Sausalito is fairly touristy, but there are some great art galleries and unique shops, as well as some really nice restaurants.
Lenny and I had lunch at Horizons, a restaurant perched right on the water, where we sat and enjoyed the view of San Francisco in the distance as we ate fresh oysters on the half shell and soaked up some sun. It really was the perfect day off--relaxed, genteel and completely satisfying. That night, a mixer was arranged with members of our company and the company of "Wicked," which is having a long and successful run here. We gathered at a wine bar and "talked shop" with these talented and friendly people, some of whom will be performing alongside us next week at our benefit for the organization REAF, the Richmond Ermet AIDS Foundation, which raises funds for AIDS organizations through events like ours. The remainder of my week has been spent working out, performing, and preparing my own number for the benefit.

Since it has been a fairly uneventful week, I can take this opportunity to answer a few questions sent to me by audience members. I love receiving your inquiries, so keep 'em coming!

Question for you. How do you fly back to NYC to audition when you are across the country performing? Can you assure your diehard blog fans you'll keep us informed on the life and times of James Beaman after Spamalot ends?

Well, thus far I have not been called upon to return to New York for auditions, but that may happen. In that case, we are permitted to request a personal day, and I would then fly, at my own expense, back to NYC and do the audition. The job would have to be a really great one for me to do that, however. I am actually hoping that there will be some auditions for me in Los Angeles while we are there, not only for film or TV--many Broadway projects hold LA auditions. I don't know what sort of blogging I will do post-"Spamalot," but I assure you my website will have updates and news on whatever life brings me next!

Rebecca asks:

Since you have spent so much time on the road, do you have any tips or recommendations for those of us who might be traveling around the U.S.?

Sure. The first thing I would say is, travel light. Don't load yourself down with extensive wardrobe choices and heavy full sized toiletries and bottles of perfume. In the first place, you won't wear all of that stuff. Pick the pieces that are staples for you, limit your wardrobe to a narrow color palette so you can easily mix and match pieces, and have one or two dressy items you can pull out as need be. Airlines charge exorbitant fees for checked luggage, particularly overweight luggage, and cramming tons of stuff in carryon and then trying to fit them in overhead bins just slows down the whole boarding process for everyone and gives you a heavy bag to carry that will end up being gate checked anyway. Keep things light.

Secondly, I would say, join every frequent flyer program and hotel rewards plan that there is. It's free, you earn points towards flights and hotel stays and can receive special benefits for being a member, like free internet access in hotels. My favorite chain hotels by far are the Marriott Residence Inns and the Candlewood Suites. I highly recommend both--you always know what you are going to get, and I have never been disappointed. Both hotel chains provide suites with full kitchens and nice amenities, and Candlewood offers guests free laundry, and a pantry for late night snacks.

Lastly, I would say, plan ahead and make a list of the sights and attractions you really, really want to see in each place you go and set aside time throughout your stay to do each thing. By planning ahead you can avoid a lot of running around that can exhaust you and ruin the enjoyment of your trip, whether it be business or pleasure. Remember to leave time to rest and relax and I would say always set aside one day just to wander--pick a neighborhood or an area and just stroll, discovering things along the way. Bring a camera and a journal and record your adventures.

And last, here is Ben's question:

How do you stay in shape while you are traveling so much? Do you and the other performers warm up before every show?

Staying in shape is a priority for me. I am a big fitness freak and have learned as I have been out here that, with discipline, a good fitness regimen can be maintained. I do a combination of weight training, power yoga and various forms of cardio. Here in San Francisco, I have a gym, and I joined a yoga studio where I go a couple times a week. In other cities, I have had to work out on my own, sometimes in hotel rooms, so I spent three months doing the P90X plan, which is a series of DVD workouts that can be done with minimal equipment, pretty much anywhere. As for warming up, each performer has their own routine. For some, the warmup can be extensive (Ben Davis, our Galahad, is an opera singer and his warmup can be in excess of an hour sometimes!), for others, it's a simple routine that just loosens up the muscles and gets the voice warm. I do a fairly simple warmup for the show because I work out every day and my body is usually fairly ready for the show. Also, once you get used to doing the same performance eight times a week, your body has learned to adapt to the demands of the show and the muscles are tuned to those demands. Warming up is essential, however, to avoid injury and to be at peak performance level.

So folks, more from San Francisco next week. I will fill you in on the "Spamalot"/"Wicked" benefit then. Meantime, enjoy summer, wherever you are!

A Bowl of Cherries

Week 76: San Francisco, CA

It occurred to me this week that I might do very well as a travel writer. I don't express this to pat my own back in any way about my writing abilities. I have just reached a stage in my life when I realize I have put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. I have been doing theatre since I was 12 and I have focused all my energy, my passion and my resources into generating a life in the work that I love. And I have no intention of stopping acting; but I often think about things I love to do that I might pursue as other outlets for my creativity and possible sources of income. Travel writing and taking photographs of the places I visit seem to me very pleasant side lines. I think about Julia Powell, who decided to tackle a year long project to execute 365 recipes as set down by Julia Child. Her passion for her project transformed her life, led to a blog, which led to a best selling book, and now is a feature film starring Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. One wonders what is possible if one just follows one's heart--or gut--or both.

San Francisco, like all great cities, is endlessly fascinating, mystifying, and full of surprises of every stripe. This week, on our day off, I convinced my buddies Tim and Lenny to head out with me to take the 49 mile scenic drive through San Francisco. I needed the practice driving and I thought it would be a great way to see the various neighborhoods of the city without sitting on one of those silly double decker buses. Well, we had a terrific time. The drive was originally created in 1938 to promote the Golden Gate Exposition of 1939, inspired by the opening of the Golden Gate Bridge in 1937. Why 49 miles? It's a special number in San Francisco: the city covers 49 square miles, and became prominent during the Gold Rush of 1849. Now, driving in San Francisco is a fascinating set of challenges all its own. I am sure you remember crazy chase scenes like in "What's Up Doc?" or "Foul Play." This is a city of incredibly steep hills, where one must drive to the top only to be met with a stop sign that causes one to teeter perilously at the peak of an incline before proceeding again. Talk about Vertigo! The drive was worth it though--from the crowded streets of Chinatown, to the expansive boulevards of Nob Hill; from the winding climes of Twin Peaks to the tourist delights of Fisherman's Wharf. I drove for three hours and we still didn't get through Golden Gate Park and a number of other notable areas. Thank goodness I am here another month.

I am slowly discovering the various neighborhoods in San Francisco, and like most cities, the more you explore the smaller and more manageable it all starts to become. The neighborhoods here are all unique, with their own cultural and aesthetic personalities, and one can easily bump right into one area from another since they are all sort of stacked up against each other. My most pleasant day this week was Thursday, one of those beautiful, mild days where one can wander and explore at one's leisure, and I found myself walking north up Polk Street through what I found out was Russian Hill.
This enchanting neighborhood is fast becoming my favorite in San Francisco. Polk Street is lined with charming and completely unique businesses--antique shops, vintage clothing stores, interior design galleries, antiquarian booksellers, well worn old world pubs (including the appropriately named O'Reilly's Holy Grail Pub). It is here that that distinctly European flavor I have been feeling in San Francisco is most apparent. After wandering through the various shops, fantasizing about purchasing things to decorate my New York apartment, I had a late lunch at La Boulange de Polk, an authentic French boulangerie serving magnificent pastries and delicious soups and sandwiches. Then further down I stopped in at Lotta's Bakery, owned by a charming couple, one of whom is the baker and the other a collector of vintage objects which are also a part of the bake shop. Lotta's makes the real old fashioned, home style baked goods I adore, and I couldn't leave without a slice of the rhubarb pie. The shop is named after Lotta Crabtree, a famous entertainer and San Francisco legend. Lotta was an actress and vaudevillian who became one of San Francisco's wealthiest residents.
The character that Jeanette MacDonald plays in the 1930's movie, "San Francisco," is based on Lotta, and in fact, the event at the end of the movie, when the earthquake has devastated the city and Jeanette leads the survivors singing to a place of safety is a true story about Lotta Crabtree. I was amused too, to learn that Bob, the co-owner of the bakery, used 'Lotta Crabtree' for years as his drag name. How San Francisco is that? As I contentedly wandered back to my hotel, I stopped for some fresh flowers and a pound of cherries, which are now in season. I brought the cherries home, washed them, gobbled a few, and like my Mom used to do, I put them in a bowl in the fridge for later enjoyment. Something so simple can be such a pleasure. To me, fresh cherries mean that summer is indeed here.

Lest you think the City by the Bay is all charm, I can tell you about the Tenderloin, the area at the bottom of the hill from my hotel, where our theatre is located. Again, one can walk, as if through an invisible membrane, from the rather affluent Nob Hill neighborhood to the north into the Tenderloin and feel a distinct and quite unpleasant shift in reality. The Tenderloin district became a disreputable area as early as the 1920's, where it was populated by gambling halls and speakeasies. Sandwiched between Union Square and it's fashionable shopping district, and the Civic Center, this area is sort of the sink drain of San Francisco, where all the undesirable human refuse of the city washes up. Crackheads, prostitutes, the homeless, and a plethora of just plain old drunks (there are 60 liquor stores in this small area) and crazies hang out on the streets at all hours of the day and night. Walking through this bedlam of fist fights, drug deals and public urination every day and every night to and from work is not the most pleasant thing imaginable. It's piteous, really.

Yet, as you know, my credo is to look for the beauty, and I had the pleasure on Friday of exploring the beauties of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. This magnificent institution is every bit as impressive and as rich in great works as the MOMA in New York. Housed in a beautiful building with a glorious, sun drenched central atrium and a newly opened and expansive rooftop garden, the SFMOMA represents modern and contemporary art in all its diversity. From Rothko to Warhol, from Matisse to Picasso, there is something for everyone here. My favorites of the painted works in the collection were Lichtenstein's triptych of pop art interpretations on Monet's "Rouen Cathedral" series; Magritte's surreal commentary on male grooming and accoutrements, "Personal Values;" and a very famous Diego Rivera, "The Flower Carrier." Most exciting for me were two wonderful exhibitions of photography. The first was an in depth exploration of the seminal photographic collection "The Americans" by Robert Frank. Frank was a Swiss born Jew who came to the states, optimistic about the country and what it represented, until, with the aid of a Guggenheim Foundation grant, he traveled extensively throughout America, photographing with an unflinching eye the shifting landscape of American life.
His vision is often bleak, cynical, yet touched with moments of heartbreaking empathy for the fragility and anonymity of modern urban life. It's an amazing vision of our country in the middle of the 20th century. The other exhibition I visited explored the relationship between the work of great American photographer Ansel Adams and painter Georgia O'Keefe. The two met in New Mexico in the 1920's, and were aligned with each other through their common bond with Alfred Stieglitz, O'Keefe's husband and Adams' mentor. Both artists explored the natural beauty of the American landscape, and both were drawn to the abstractions possible when focusing in closely on the details of plant life, terrain--whether it be sand dunes or mountain crags, and the inside of flowers or just the foam on the surface of a pond. Adams palette was the evocative range of silvery hues of black and white photography; O'Keefe's aesthetic was all about the exploration of color in organic expressions of astonishing variety. Further proof that art is here to remind us all of our common humanity, our common connection to nature, and the infinite individual expressions of those experiences that are available to us. Looking at an Adams photograph of a leaf or the patterns of light on a stream, I am reminded of that bowl of cherries. Something so simple can be so joyful, so life affirming. Remember that old song... "Life is just a bowl of cherries, don't take it serious, life's too mysterious."