At Liberty

Does anyone realize life as they live it, every, every minute?
--Thornton Wilder, "Our Town"


Week 96: New York, NY

And so, I am back where I started. Next Monday, on my 44th birthday, I can celebrate the two year anniversary of the offer to do "Spamalot," and rejoice that I had such an incredible journey with the show. I wish I had words to express the extraordinary and transformative experience that this has been for me. I guess my blog, which chronicles the whole thing, must speak to that. Our final shows were triumphant, celebratory. The very last show was inspirational. Each and every member of the company gave their all; a full 100% performance. The energy as the company performed the "Camelot" number was so enthusiastic and so high as to take one's breath away. I felt, and feel, so proud to be a member of that wonderful company. At curtain call on our final night, John O'Hurley came out for his bow with his beautiful little boy, Will, in tow. If I wasn't already choked up, that pretty much did me in. I cried and sang "Bright Side" and drank in the applause and energy of the ecstatic audience while the confetti fluttered down upon us all like a benediction. Truly, it was one of the most joyous moments of my career, and I felt such a sense of accomplishment. If we can just engage, fully, in the beautiful moments of our lives, big and small, we can go to our graves saying that we indeed lived.

We had our final party together at a local restaurant in Costa Mesa and a good time was had by all. Richard Chamberlain, that kind and gentle man, drove down from LA to spend our final night with us. People dressed up in all their finery and enjoyed a last drink together. It was a bittersweet occasion, but all of us have shared a moment like that, because all of us are in the theatre and know that our glories are transitory and all good things must end sometime. I can honestly say that with one exceptional circumstance, I finished the tour feeling very proud of all that I had accomplished, and secure in the common respect and appreciation that I had come to share with my coworkers. The exception involved a misunderstanding between me and two of my fellow actors, and I can only say that what seemed like a terribly negative circumstance proved to be a blessing. You see, friends, while we all adopt each other as family, for support and a sense of security as we travel and work together, the truth is that real friendship is not dependent on a shared job or a lucrative and fun-filled tour. True friendship is about acceptance, unconditional love, and forgiveness. To have discovered that none of these qualities ever existed between me and these particular people I mentioned is not a cause for mourning, but rather, it is an opportunity to reaffirm my own values and ideals and a chance to understand the truth of my experience. One sour note in the midst of this celebration of life and creativity did nothing to diminish my pride and gratitude for all that "Spamalot" brought to my life. While Spam may be a cheap substitute for more sophisticated meats, "Spamily" has proven to be, in some ways, a cheap substitute for family. But there are people I will take with me and cherish as friends for years to come.

And so, with rosy memories intact, and rose colored glasses cast off, I face the next chapter of my life and career. "Spamalot" was such a big forward step in my work as an actor that it is somewhat scary to stand here at the precipice and wonder what might be next for me. All I can do is continue to believe in my talent, to strive to be excellent at what I do and to bring joy and happiness with it to as many people as possible; to have faith that the work will come and that my life will continue to deepen and expand. My agent is hard at work sending off my resume for various jobs, and I will strut my stuff at auditions and offer myself up for that next great opportunity. Such is the life of an actor. But on a personal level, I will continue to challenge myself to be more than I am while learning to accept, forgive and embrace all that I am. We can only, finally, do our best. We stumble, we fall, we get back up again; sometimes we rise to great heights and it is in those moments that we are most humbled by the incredible gift we have been given--to do our best, and to share it with others. I thank all of you who have followed my journey on this tour, for your unwavering positivity, support and enthusiasm. They have been a great strength to me, for which I am eternally grateful. No doubt, at some time in the near future, I will continue to write. As soon as I have embarked on my next creative journey. For now, friends, stay in touch, embrace those you love, look for the beauty wherever you go, and always, look on the bright side of life.

Off comes the make up
Off comes the clown's disguise
The curtain's fallin'
The music softly dies.

But I hope you're smilin'
As you're filin' out the door
As they say in this biz
That's all there is... there isn't anymore.

We've shared a moment
And as the moment ends
I've got a funny feelin'
We're parting now as friends.

Your cheers and laughter will linger after
They've torn down these dusty walls
If I had this to do again
And the evening were new again
I would spend it with you again
But now the curtain falls.

Your cheers and laughter will linger after
They've torn down these dusty walls
People say I was made for this
Nothin' else would I trade for this
And just think I get paid for this...

"Goodnight ladies and gentlemen and God love you, thank you."


--"The Curtain Falls," Sol Weinstein (written for Bobby Darin)

The Show That Ends Like This

Week 95: Costa Mesa, CA

Nothing is forever in the theatre. Whatever it is, it flares up, burns hot, and then it's gone.
--Joe Mankiewicz, "All About Eve"

22 Months.
62 Cities.
676 Performances.

For me, the journey that started with an offer of work, on my birthday, in October 2007, comes almost completely full circle this week. It was a journey of firsts in many respects: my first national tour, my first principal role on a contract of this level, my first time visiting many of the cities on our tour. On a personal level, the journey was transformative. I mourned and moved beyond the breakup of a long term relationship, I overcame many fears, including my fear of driving, and got my first driver's license. I learned about myself by broadening my experience through travel; I met and befriended some wonderful people along the way, some of whom I met simply through this blog and my website. I achieved some long dreamt of goals, buried some demons, and lived some dreams. My journey was as much an internal one as an external; as I moved about North America performing, I found my way into my own heart and mind and deepened my sense of spirituality. I discovered that the work that I love to do is not just for my own fulfillment and joy. What I do enables me to collaborate with other artists, thus helping facilitate their dreams too; it touches the minds and hearts of the people in the audience and can even be a source of inspiration for aspiring young artists who might be out there looking up at the stage and wishing that wish to be a part of it all. There have been dark moments over the past twenty years of my career, moments when I honestly thought of throwing in the towel--too many rejections, too much struggle. Touring with "Spamalot" has renewed my faith--in myself, in the power of dreams, and in the doing of something that brings pleasure and happiness to hundreds of thousands of people. I thank you, dear readers, for not only taking the ride with me, but for constantly touching me with your generosity and encouragement. Many of you have asked me if I will continue blogging beyond this, and I can only say that I would love to continue writing, and just have to decide what the focus of a new blog would be. If you would like to be on my email list to receive updates on anything that I might get up to in the future, please send me an email at james@jamesbeaman.com.

I rented a car for a couple days this week in order to see something of the area, and despite some inclement weather I had a nice drive. I visited Laguna Beach, a longtime seaside resort and artist's enclave, first. Walked on the beach with my Starbucks latte, visited some art galleries and home decor shops. The town had that feeling of a seasonal community off season--a little sleepy, many businesses closed, and a few intrepid visitors braving the overcast skies and drizzle to stroll the quiet streets.
From there I drove to San Juan Capistrano, to visit the mission there. This historic Catholic mission was founded in 1776 by Spanish missionaries who came to convert the Native Americans of the region to Catholicism. The stone church and grounds of the mission were badly damaged by an earthquake in the early 19th century, but the ruins, gardens, the Mission Basilica (a lovely cathedral with a glorious gold altarpiece) and the oldest building in California still in use, the enchanting Father Serra's Chapel, make for a beautiful historic site well worth a visit.
The gardens are fragrant with roses and lush with olive trees, and the old 18th century chapel was a beautiful place for some quiet prayer and contemplation. Of course San Juan Capistrano is most famous for the annual migration of cliff swallows which are fabled to return on St. Joseph's Day, March 19, every year. Those of you who know "Spamalot" know that we spend a bit of time arguing the migratory habits of African versus European swallows in the show! So it was fun to be in a town that is famous for the little birds and even has a Swallow Festival every year. There's even a song made famous by Glenn Miller's orchestra, "When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano:"

All the mission bells will ring
The chapel choir will sing
The happiness you bring will live in my memory
When the swallows come back to Capistrano
That's the day I pray that you'll come back to me...

Monday night, our hair and makeup department supervisor, Mitchell, threw an early Halloween fete called "The Hell Party." He hosted the soiree with his cohort, one of our gorgeous ensemble ladies, Paula, at their place in Huntington Beach. A nice cross section of the cast and crew rose to the occasion and showed up in some outrageous costumes. We had a group of girls dressed as a hot dog, a ketchup bottle, mustard bottle and a beer; we had Red Riding Hood, a sexy female cop leading a corrupt umpire around in handcuffs, not one but two Middle Eastern suicide bombers, and numerous ghosts, vampires, and other spooky creatures.
As you know, if you ever googled me or read my website, I had a brief career as a female impersonator, but have not appeared in drag (with the exception of a great production of "La Cage Aux Folles" a few years ago) in almost a decade. Mitchell has been after me to get done up, and I figured a Halloween party was a great excuse. So I attended the Hell Party as the legendary tragic Greek heroine, Medea. To me I looked like a Spanish soap star, but the Grecian gown and two dead baby dolls hanging from my belt like a trophy told their own story! It was a really fun and festive evening and a most welcome infusion of jollity and laughs during our last week. That's me with Mitchell, who seems about to take a bite out of Medea!

Since I have introduced you to all of my dressers on this tour, I thought it appropriate during this last week to introduce a special lady without whom I could not have become Robin eight shows a week. Here, with me at the Hell Party, is the lovely Suzanne. Suzanne hails from Tyler, Texas and she has the accent and sassy cowgirl attitude too. She is a very talented hair and makeup pro, who got her start in theatre doing wigs for the LA Opera. Since then she has toured with several Broadway shows including "The Producers" and "Les Miserables." Suzanne has been a good friend to me over these many months, and we have shared confidences and laughs and great times. I will miss her very much--she not only was the only one who made Robin look just right, but she also gave me amazing haircuts! I know Suzanne is looking forward very much to going home to the beautiful country house she built and spending time with her Mom, who lives with her in Texas. I wish her all the best of everything for the future, and I hope we will get to work together again soon.

I will be doing one final blog post next week in order to encapsulate our final weekend of shows, our finale, and my return to New York. So tune in next week for that. All that remains this week is to introduce you to my final dresser on "Spamalot," Julie.
Julie left an exciting career as a paralegal many years ago to do the work of the theatre. Imagine that! She is a seasoned pro and has worked every show that has come through the area. Her confident, no nonsense attitude has been most welcome during these last weeks. With the show coming to an end, I am reminded of my very first dresser, Lyn, who got me through those first weeks of performances in Washington, D.C. back at Christmas time in 2007. It was Lyn's gentleness, thoughtfulness and kindness to me that inspired my tradition of sharing my dressers with you all. I am so grateful to all the lovely ladies who have taken care of me and Sir Robin as we have traveled North America. Best wishes to you all!

It is a surreal thing to watch this production wind itself up. During this week there has been a gradual diaspora as another few performers, including our beloved dance captain Graham and his wife Cara, have left us early. We received signed posters from Eric Idle and John DuPrez as parting gifts, and have come in to work each night to another farewell letter on the callboard from the producers, or general managers, or a former performer or assistant who worked on the tour. The company's personal trunks have been packed and shipped off to their homes. Saddest moment this week was perhaps receiving our final paychecks! That is one thing I will definitely miss! It has been a challenge this week to stay positive and not give in to the feelings of anxiety that come up about being out of work, having to return to the hectic world of auditions and networking back home, and the realization that my life will profoundly change after almost two years of constant performing and traveling. But change is the only constant, as they say. To close this week, I am reminded of a parable that I read recently that I think is very wise on the subject of change (see below). At the time of this posting, we have five more shows to do. One final post next week from New York City, friends.

There once was a king who was going to put to death many people, but before doing so he offered a challenge. If any of them could come up with something which would make him happy when he was sad, and sad when he was happy, he would spare their lives.

All night the wise men meditated on the matter.

In the morning they brought the king a ring. The king said that he did not see how the ring would serve to make him happy when he was sad and sad when he was happy.

The wise men pointed to the inscription. When the king read it, he was so delighted that he spared them all.

And the inscription? "This too shall pass."

--Ram Dass, "Journey of Awakening"

The O.C.

Week 94: Costa Mesa, CA

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.
--Shakespeare

Before I launch into this week's blog about our second to last week of performances, I thought I would take some time to just talk a little about my week off in New York. New York is a pressure cooker. The proximity in which human beings coexist with each other makes for an intense energy.
This swirling vortex of energy--much of it frantic, stressed, anxious--can be a challenge to resist getting swept into. This particular layoff was tinged with a different vibe for me, because I was seeing the city through the eyes of an actor about to be (temporarily) out of work, and really feeling the enormity of the adventure I have been on and the distance it has put between me and life in New York. Consequently I had a few days of simply collapsing and hiding out in my apartment. It is easy to become overwhelmed. There is also a pervasive sense of anxiety and tension around the economy and money for people in New York--I know that in these times this is an all-pervasive state of mind, but in the city, it seems to be intensified. I truly believe that our lives show up for us as a result of our predominant patterns of thinking. If your habitual thoughts are angry, or self-pitying, hopeless, fearful, your life reflects that back at you. I believe that our current economic situation in this country is being exacerbated by a collective and dominant pattern of negative and fearful thinking. We can choose to buy into it, dwelling on negative headlines and news reports, complaining about things, talking ourselves out of spending money on things we want or need. Or we can look in a different direction, affirming abundance in our lives by practicing gratitude for what we have, by reaching out and supporting other people in feeling empowered and capable, and by having faith in ourselves that we can have the life we dream of and are committed to creating.

"Spamalot" was only a beginning for me; a wonderful step in the right direction. All creative projects come to an end, and inevitably the process begins of finding a new project, a new source of expression, and a new opportunity.
People talk a lot about luck in my business--they point to successful actors making big salaries and chalk it up to a fluke, to being "in the right place at the right time," to some sort of whimsical wheel of fortune that happened to push that person into the lap of success. I prefer to believe that those who reach what we would call success do so because they have faith in themselves, they don't listen to the negative opinions of others, and they persist. Against all odds, against the evidence of the limitation of the present moment (again, everything is temporary), they KNOW that they will be successful and they focus on giving through their work, and of experiencing the joy which is the most satisfying part of being a performer. I suppose, having returned for a week to New York, and having had the wind sort of knocked out of me by it, I am returning to the place where my beliefs are strongest and my determination the most grounded. I think all of us must find ways to untangle the negative knots we can get into mentally, and reach for that which feels the best, which reminds us of how fortunate we are, and which sustains us through times of uncertainty. And learn to be compassionate and gentle with ourselves so that we may be that way for others. Even in the crazy, unrelenting vortex of Manhattan living.

Posh Costa Mesa is a luxurious and fitting final stop for the tour. The place absolutely reeks of money and fine living. Immaculately planned, maintained, manicured and gleaming, this suburban Southern California city gives one a glimpse of how the other 1% of the population are living! BMWs, Mercedes, Jaguars glide silently along palm lined streets reflected in the mirrored glass of modern buildings.
I am staying at an elegant Wyndham Hotel directly across from the elaborate Orange County Performing Arts Center. This complex is comprised of a gorgeous concert hall designed by Cesar Pelli (with an undulating facade sheathed in a skin of transparent glass), a restaurant, the Tony winning South Coast Repertory Theatre, and our venue this week, Segerstrom Hall. Henry Segerstrom, the $40,000,000 donor and primary patron of the Center, is one of the owners of nearby South Coast Plaza, one of the most expensive and lucrative shopping malls in the US. Among the 322 shops in this marble and brass palace of materialism, every major designer is represented-- from Gucci and Pucci to Versace and Prada. The mall grosses a billion dollars every year, further evidence of the affluence of the Orange County region. It's a bit of a tease for this group of about-to-be-unemployed performers to be nestled amidst so many tempting shops and fine restaurants! We do have access this week to a splendid spa across the street, which has all the amenities and luxuries one could wish for in a health club. So I'm treating these last weeks as a sort of working vacation.

This week we had to say farewell to our fearless leader, Ken Davis. Ken is our production stage manager, overseeing all aspects of our production, both on stage and behind the scenes. He has been with the tour since its inception and throughout the nearly four years "Spamalot" has been on the road. As things sometimes play out in this business, Ken landed another job which happens to conflict with our last weeks here in Costa Mesa, so unfortunately he won't be here to finish what he started. We will definitely miss sharing the final shows with Ken. Over the past 22 months that I have been with the tour, I have come to really appreciate Ken's humor, his support of all members of the company, and in particular, his support for what I have brought to the show. He got choked up at our farewell party for him, as he paid tribute to the real family feeling between all members of the cast, crew and management team. And he's right. It's a special group, and no doubt Ken's leadership contributed to that camaraderie. Happy trails, Ken!

I have been going in to work every night this week with a sense of joy and gratitude. From signing in at the stage door, to
all my back stage rituals of preparing for the show-- greeting the crew, slapping on my makeup, warming up--to savoring each and every moment of performing, I have been reminded over and over how very fortunate I am to have had this dream come true. To be a part of this show, to have the privilege of working as an actor, is something I have never taken for granted. And I still have goosebump moments out there when I look around me on stage, or feel the energy of the thousands of people out front, or am jazzed up by the sound of the orchestra pumping out this delightful score, and I feel like I need to pinch myself. What a blessing. One more week to go, friends. Next week, I plan to drive around the area a bit and see some of the beauty of the SoCal coastline, and we have some company events and parties that I am sure you will find amusing. Until then...