As I sit on the porch of 'The Actor House' in Essex, Connecticut - just over a year since last I wrote - I realise that most of these so called 'New York Minutes' are tales of anywhere but. Probably because when I'm out of town, I'm working, and acting work actually takes up far less time and energy than the art of looking for acting work.
So I begin again. In my defense, the following things also kept me from blogging the past year:
One engagement
Three engagement parties
One trip to Kentucky
One move to Brooklyn
One trip to Australia
One trip to Hawaii
One three-month tour of Macbeth
One green card application
One more trip to Australia
One wedding in Mexico
One Honeymoon in same...
And now I'm here. At the Ivoryton Playhouse. Playing Cecily Pigeon in Neil Simon's 'The Odd Couple'. I left for Connecticut two days after Dan and I returned from our honeymoon, leaving behind a barely unpacked apartment and a very understanding husband. For those of you who don't really remember the movie, Cecily Pigeon is one of the British sisters who lives upstairs. In fact the character description in the audition breakdown read "silly British woman"... and so it is.
Here is a picture of my new, makeshift family.
I want to talk about a few of them, however I know how often the poorly constructed anonymity of this blog is exposed, so I will preface by saying how lovely a group they are; how easy it has been to work with everyone, and how I hope if they ever come across references to themselves here, they will forgive me.
First up, Laura Beth. She's the other bewigged lady, standing next to me in the orange shirt. (I'm in the pale blue). Originally from Knoxville, Tennessee she's thirty-three, newly engaged and going to appear in Julie Taymor's 'Spiderman' on Broadway at the end of the year. Suffice to say, life is pretty good for LB. She also makes a fabulous cocktail she calls a 'Hamptontini'. We have been keeping each other entertained during the long periods of downtime with daily trips to the gym (complimentary membership), incessant talk of weddings, horrible reality programming on TLC and of course, aforementioned cocktails.
Back left corner is Tony. He's playing Oscar. The messy one or 'Walter Matthau' for those playing at home. Brooklyn born and bred he now lives in South Jersey with his wife and very pretty sixteen year old daughter. Abd his in-laws, who evidently don't understand his life at all. Tony does more TV/Film than theater, and would admit this has been quite a workout for him. He likes to complain, but mostly for entertainment value. Actually, I think he's a big softie. He drops Laura Beth and I off at the train station in Stamford on days off so we can go back to the city. And he also took us to Mohegan Sun (the casino on the Indian Reservation), where he taught us to play Craps. Not very well unfortnuately. I lost my allotted $40 very quickly.
Just down from Tony, on the left edge, is Brian. Brian is a former Chicago actor, who took some time off to take a turn supporting his wife and three daughters when they moved to be near her family here in Connecticut. He's an excellent actor, but most distinctive about him is how much he loves his wife. He told us matter of factly that the secret is to marry your best friend. I met his wife last night at the opening night party and relayed his comment. She said when she says it, she has an addendum, "He's my best friend, who I still have a crush on"... somehow they manage to pull this off without being nauseating.
In front of Brian is M. (Yep, just M.) M lives in the house with Laura Beth and I, as well as the technical director and props charge, Cat and Rachel. (Front right). In contrast to Brian, M's marriage fell apart largely due to the fact that she didn't or couldn't understand his need to act. This is over simplified of course. Because the need to act is easy to support in principle. The long out-of-town stints, the large gaps between jobs, the sometimes paltry paychecks, these can be far more difficult to reconcile. He has two young boys who will come to visit us here for a few days towards the end of the run. Though I don't have the actual data, I believe Brian to be the exception that makes M's rule. The theater destroys more relationships that it creates. But it seems to me a very, very big sacrifice.
M gives LB and I use of his car, and makes us cocktails when we've run out of vodka. He is exceeding kind. Last night his mother came to see the show. Afterward she gave him a huge bear hug and told him how good he was. We all sat up talking about the night over drinks til 3am.
Back right is Mike. I don't know a lot about Mike yet, except that he's extremely cordial, he lives locally and he has a pool. With three long weeks left in August, it's good to know.
In the middle, next to me, is Bruce. Bruce plays Felix, the neat one or Jack Lemon. Bruce is a pro. He does theater and he does it a lot. He doesn't know how to drive, but he has his bike with him at all times and rides around town. Tony describes him as a 'pixie', because he has so much energy and shows no signs of tiring at the end of the long show. Bruce, like Felix, is allergic to lots of things. He doesn't have a cell phone, and I believe he only occasionally checks email on his dial-up connection at home. He is perhaps an anachronism, and in some ways very private. But mostly just sweet, and giving, and always right on cue.
Finally, Al. Al is in front of Mike and behind Laura Beth. Al is 59, retired, drives a Lexus, has two houses in Connecticut and an apartment on the Upper East Side. Al obviously made some money in his former 'business' career, and now dabbles in real estate, and recently started to explore the idea of acting. He is just about the sweetest most humble man I've ever met.
After the first preview on Wednesday afternoon, downstairs as we all hugged and congratulated each other, Al looked at me with his eyes wide and bright, and his cheeks flushed as he announced almost breathlessly, "That was my first performance of the first play I have ever done. Ever!" I hugged him again and congratulated him again. Then he said, "And I lived!"
I know he meant, "I survived", but for a perfect second I thought he was saying that for the first time in fifty-nine years he really "lived".
Because when it's good, that's what it feels like. This very strange, almost bohemian ritual, of packing up, coming out of town, moving into a well worn house with a bunch of strangers. Working together, playing together, creating a new vocabulary, pulling each other through the hard bits, pouring each other drinks after the good bits, keeping each other sane, keeping each other fit and fed, or even keeping out of each others' way. It's an odd way to live, but at least there's no question that it's living.
As a side note, in all my free time up here I've been revisiting the amazing Slings and Arrows It's a Canadian series that takes you back stage at a Shakespeare Festival in Canada. It's like a love sonnet to the theater. It's also incredibly funny. I don't think you have to be into theater to enjoy it, but if you happen to be in the theater you can't not.
