But Thy Eternal Summer Shall Not Fade

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The Fifth Annual Shakespeare’s Birthday Slam took place a while back. I got to talk to the Producer of the Slam, Melinda Hall, and we had a great chat about the sonnets, their history, Shakespeare, Bill Gates, what it takes to survive as an artist in the world, and a knockout reading of “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” by actor Richard Thomas. This was broadcast last Thursday on radio station WBAI 99.5 FM NY. Click on the grey triangle to hear.

On Why We Should *Not* Suffer For Our Art

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“Do we need to suffer in order to make great art?”

This question was asked the other day. A student actor was disturbed about being in an acting class where the teacher was abusive. The teacher’s theory was that one needs to “break down the students” before they can learn how to be artists. This is not an uncommon theory among acting teachers. I suspect it is pervasive in other forms of art education as well—dance, music, studio art. The theory further posits that one must be hardened to the sufferings of the soul a life of art will inevitably entail.

Please, please, please, let’s dispel a few destructive, though popular myths.

Most artists suffer whether we want to or not. It’s a tough life. No use making it tougher. Certainly, it’s no use putting ourselves in a position where we will be abused by others. So one more time, life for an artist has enough suffering all ready built into it. Don’t be afraid that suffering will pass you by unless you actively put yourself into a miserable situation. You don’t need to seek it out. You’ll have your share of suffering, I promise, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, no need to worry on that score. So don’t allow yourself to be abused in order to experience “suffering.” Not by “teachers,” yourself, or anyone else. There are plenty of great teachers out there who are not abusive.

Is suffering good for art? Well, living is good for art, and so in that sense, we need to know what suffering is. But to dwell there? Then there will be so much else that you are not allowing yourself to feel. It’s giving yourself permission to lead an emotionally constricted life, experiencing the same suffering feeling over and over again.

Look at what Stanislavsky has to say about tension in An Actor Prepares. You can’t have a free body and voice while you’re lifting a piano. He says the very first prerequisite for effective acting is relaxation. Likewise, if you’re living with all kinds of tension and emotional anguish, you cannot give yourself with full availability to the material. Even if the material is about an emotionally suffering person, you must be free to express that artistically.  Otherwise, it’s just bad acting.

Stanislavsky talks over and over again about just how tenuous and delicate the thread of the creative state is, and how easily it can be broken. How protective of that thread we must be, exclaims Stanislavsky!

In studying the great actors, one thing always comes through in their work: the great relish they take in their role. Part of what an audience experiences when they watch great acting is the mask slipping ever-so-slightly to where the actor as a human being exists. The audience starts to think not just about the story, but about what a wonderful thing storytelling itself is. The audience members start to think about the malleability of human beings who can show such full empathy for others—human beings who inhabit their characters physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It holds out hope that there is a possibility of being understood by another.

Now an actor should never play that directly, that would just be egotism, but if an actor as a human being is, in fact, living that joy in the profession and the art, then some part of that is communicated to the audience, without the actor indicating it. That is a healing thing for the audience to feel. Art becomes worthwhile, and the audience goes home feeling more human, more connected.

And isn’t that what we are all aiming for?

The One, The Only, The Great Flydini

Perhaps Steve Martin’s greatest creation. Click on the video to enjoy one of the funniest comedy magic acts ever.

Houdini’s Doppelganger

The great magician and escape artist, Harry Houdini, had a Doppelganger of sorts—his own younger brother, Theo, who performed under the name of Hardeen. Hardeen also did an escape act, duplicating many of Harry’s effects, and it has been said that Hardeen was the first to perform the straitjacket escape in full view of the audience.

A short time after Houdini’s death, Hardeen did some performances in Brooklyn off the back of a truck as a publicity stunt. Fortunately there was a movie camera there to record his version of one of Harry and Bess’s signature effects, “Metamorphosis.” You can view this wonderful trick—still performed by many illusionists today—by clicking on the video above. Filling the streets, there are lots of hats to be seen, but very few women. The background is the area near Brooklyn’s Borough Hall. Hardeen was scheduled to play at the nearby Prospect Theater.

If anybody knows who the people are that are assisting Hardeen, I’d appreciate it if you could drop a comment here.

Making Stalin Laugh

MIKHALTMANSolomon Mikhoels painted by Nathan Altman 1932

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David Schneider’s compelling new play, Making Stalin Laugh, tells of Stalin’s suppression of the Moscow State Yiddish Theatre, and the murder of its director, the beloved actor Solomon Mikhoels. The play is performed in Yiddish, Russian, and German, with English supertitles, You can hear my review of the fascinating play, and my interview of the excellent cast, by clicking on the grey triangle above.

Love and Theft: Minstrelsy in America

Looking back at yesterday’s post on Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers in Hellzapoppin’, got me thinking again about minstrelsy, and the relationship of Black entertainers to their (often) white audiences. Throughout American history, Black performers were frequently able to subvert and re-frame the meanings of their entertainments. Eric Lott’s seminal book, Love and Theft, inspired me two decades ago to do some serious study of the American minstrel show, and to investigate how the minstrel show’s conventions and subversions helped write the complex story of both race oppression and resistance. Here’s an article I wrote at that time that appeared in the December 1994 edition of the journal African American Review. I’m posting it here as it appeared then, without any update or correction.

The Ira Aldridge Troupe: early Black minstrelsy in Philadelphia

Minstrelsy before 1865 was a largely white-owned and white-performed phenomenon. There were, before 1865, few companies that had Black performers and that were Black-controlled. Robert Toll, in Blacking Up, lists only six such groups, none of which is known to have lasted more than a month. One troupe that is not on Toll’s list, and is not, as far as I know, documented elsewhere, is the Ira Aldridge Troupe, which played in Philadelphia at the Franklin Hall in Philadelphia in 1863.(1) An eyewitness account by a white reporter from the New York Clipper provides insights into the program of the company as well as the troupe’s reception by its largely Black audience (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70).

The Ira Aldridge Troupe is surely unique in the annals of minstrelsy, if only by virtue of its name, which reflects the pride and awareness the founders of the company must have had when they chose to title themselves after the Black actor who had left his homeland some 35 years before, never to return. Although long absent from the United States, Aldridge was not unknown here – his death in 1867 was reported on the front page of the Chicago Times (Marshall and Stock 334). However, during the Civil War, Aldridge’s name had a significance even larger than his acting abilities, for he had kept a close eye on the abolitionist movement in the United States, and was reported to have contributed half his earnings to the struggle for the liberation of Blacks. As an example of Aldridge’s immediate concern, when a Black family in Baltimore was captured after fleeing from slavery, Aldridge reportedly donated the money to buy the family’s freedom (Marshall and Stock 198). So it is perhaps understandable that, unlike most later Black minstrel companies, and in keeping with the dignity of its name, the Aldridge Troupe apparently did not do plantation material, although they were billed as a contraband troupe – that is, as fugitive slaves. Perhaps, too, because of their substantially Black audience, the troupe felt no need to “put on the mask.” In fact, although much of the material the group performed was standard fare, several of the company’s acts were downright subversive, as a description of the show will indicate.

Part I began with ballad singing by three members of the troupe – Miss S. Burton, Miss R. Clark, and Mr. C. Nixon. Burton sang “When the Cruel War is Over,” which, having sold over a million copies of sheet music, was the most popular sentimental song of the Civil War (Toll 110). The song describes a soldier’s farewell to his lady, the wounds he receives in battle, and his dying request for a last caress. This song, so popular with white minstrel troupes, was an example of the change in white minstrelsy that had been occurring at this time. As the war progressed, the sentimental songs telling of the destruction of Black slave families were replaced in white minstrelsy with songs telling of white suffering because of the war. In the hands of a Black performer, however, this song with its refrain “Weeping, Sad, and Lonely, Hopes and Fears how vain! / When this cruel war is over, Praying that we meet again!” must have had a different, special meaning for its Black Philadelphian audience. Since Philadelphia was one of the closest Northern cities to the slave South, it had become a major stopping point for fugitive slaves, and a frequent destination for the underground railroad, which was supported by many Black churches and secular groups in Philadelphia (Miller and Smith 570). The song’s not-so-encoded meaning clearly referred to fugitive slaves “meeting again” with their Black brothers and sisters still enslaved in the South. The imminent departure of the first troop of Black soldiers from Philadelphia added pertinence and poignancy: Soon there would be Black women seeing their true loves off to war (Du Bois 38). The Clipper reporter notes that the Black audience showed its appreciation, and Miss Burton sang an encore. However, much to the delight of the audience, but to the dismay of the reporter, Burton started to get “into a regular Methodist style, keeping up a movement with her body to the air of the song, collapsing at last into a regular camp meeting break down” (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70). There can be no doubt that the audience had identified itself in the song.

The next act was a farce called “The Irishman and the Stranger,” with a Mr. Brown playing a character called Pat O’Callahan and a Mr. Jones playing the Stranger. The Clipper reporter refers to it as a “truly laughable affair, the ‘Irish nagur’ mixing up a rich Irish brogue promiscuously with the sweet nigger accent” (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70). Perhaps the Aldridge Troupe’s audience got its biggest satisfaction, however, from the role reversal inherent in the piece: Since the beginning of minstrelsy, minstrels of Irish heritage such as Dan Bryant and Richard Hooley had been caricaturing Black men – now it was the turn of Black men to caricature the Irish. Tensions between the two groups were running particularly high during this period, a tension that was to culminate in occurrences such as the New York City and Boston draft riots less than a month later, during which primarily Irish rioters ran through the streets attacking Black people (Zinn 230-31). The previous twenty-five years in Philadelphia had seen a considerable deterioration of the political and economic position of Blacks: They had been completely disenfranchised by the Pennsylvania constitution in 1838, so that they could no longer vote, and by the 1850s they had lost their predominance in many semi-skilled and unskilled occupations to the Irish. What is more, despite increasing industrialization, Blacks were excluded from the factory jobs that the Irish immigrants filled (Hershberg 112, 117). So the Aldridge audience must have gotten special enjoyment from Brown’s representation of an Irishman so crude that his coat buttons were made of crackers.

Race and ethnicity were never far from the thoughts of the spectators even during the seemingly innocuous acrobatic act that followed. As Mr. J. Purnell stood on his head on top of a seven-foot pole, Black members of the audience shouted out with pride, “Ooh! Go way white man – look at ’em, look at ’em” and “Whar’s yer Pickayune Butlers now?”(2)

After some comic songs and dances, the troupe continued with a dramatic performance that brought race once more into focus. A thriller called “The Red Man of the Forest; or the Oath” starred Mr. P. Jones as the Red Man of the title, and Mr. S. P. Brown as the evil Duke Aphonza. Toward the end of the play, Red Man captures the (white) Duke; the actor playing the Duke, however, evidently had not “whitened up” for the part; and, as a result, when the Indian confronted him saying, “Let the pale face beware,” the house exploded in laughter and chatter, calling to the dark-skinned actor to dip his head in a barrel of flour. But one observer, at least, was able to see beyond the actor’s actual color. Voicing a hidden subtext of the piece, the theatregoer shouted out, “Go it, Injun – give dat pale face a smash in dat mouf of his’n.”

The hostility of some of the Black audience members toward whites should not be surprising, despite the reputation that Philadelphia had for abolitionist activity. For if Philadelphia was a center of anti-slavery activity, it was also a hotbed of discrimination. In the words of Frederick Douglass, “There is not perhaps anywhere to be found a city in which prejudice against color is more rampant than in Philadelphia” (qtd. in Weigley 165). Black Philadelphians at the time were still barred from street cars, could not attend white elementary schools, were not allowed to attend any public high schools, and had been subject to the effects of so many riots during the 1840s that the growth rate of their population throughout that decade was a scant 0.36% (Du Bois 38, 40, 88).

Given this history, it is interesting to note that the audience was not completely Black. According to the Clipper account, while the hall was nearly filled with Black audience members, one bench in front, reserved for whites, was occupied by “a dozen or two of pale faces.” The Clipper reporter noted the clear difference in the behavior of the two segments of the audience:

The whites were orderly in their demeanor, always laughing in the right places, and applauding at the proper time; but the blacks behaved very bad, making all sorts of fun of the performers, and openly criticizing everything that was done. (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70)

Not even the infamously rowdy New York Bowery Theatre audiences were this bad according to the reporter: “A more incorrigible set of cusses we never saw; they beat our Bowery gods all to pieces” (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70). It is interesting to note the reporter’s presumption in judging the “right places” to laugh and applaud. However, the reporter’s bland assessment of the white audience does not impart much insight. There is no way of knowing, for example, whether the responses of the white audience were racist, since such responses presumably could be subsumed by the reporter under the category of “laughing in the right places.” But clearly the majority of the Black audience knew what was thought funny, and pertinent. In fact, the reporter admits that he could not make head or tail of the plot of “The Red Man of the Forest,” although he concedes the Blacks around him seemed to understand it thoroughly – even if, as he claims, each had a different version of the piece.

Exactly who were the audience members? We have a few clues to go on. Franklin Hall was not a legitimate theatre, since contemporary advertisements imply that it was being used as a dance hall at times.(3) It was located on Spruce Street, just off of Second Street, in the heart of the Fifth Ward of Philadelphia in the Southwark district. The Fifth Ward accommodated the largest concentration of Blacks in Philadelphia at the time – according to the 1860 census, 5,229 Blacks out of a total ward population of 24,792. Although this ratio may not seem great when compared to say, the modern-day Harlem of New York City, it must be remembered that in 1860 there were only 22,185 Blacks in Philadelphia out of a total population of 565,529, for a proportion of only 4% (Weigley 159). So a theatre located in the Fifth Ward could easily attract a predominately Black audience. The neighboring Fourth, Seventh, and Eighth Wards were also populated with relatively high percentages of Black inhabitants, so it is reasonable to believe that the theatre may have drawn audiences from these wards as well.

The presence of some two dozen whites at Franklin Hall can be explained by the 80 percent white population of the Fifth Ward. The Clipper reporter recounts that one of the acts was interrupted by a young Black boy who had “espied the white trash” and called out “Three cheers for the Shiffler hose!” (“Negro Minstrelsy” 70). Clearly the reporter’s characterization of the whites as “white trash” allows us to place them as working-class, but the reference to the “Shiffler hose” allows an even more narrow identification. The Shiffler Hose was one of the ubiquitous volunteer fire companies so popular in urban centers during the mid-nineteenth century. These fire companies functioned more like gangs than service organizations. There were intense turf wars among the companies, sometimes involving beatings, firearms, arson, even murder. Some companies like the Moyamensing Hose made alliances with notorious gangs such as the Killers. The fire companies not only fought over turf but were often divided along ethnic and political lines as well. The Shiffler Hose was infamous for its violent anti-Catholic sentiments.(4) The young boy in the theatre, however, was evidently incorrect in his identification, because as soon as he called out, someone else responded, “Shet up yer mouf! Dem’s de Wiccacoe fellas – free cheers for de Wiccy.” The Weccacoe Hose company, one of the Shiffler company’s most hated enemies, was aligned with a gang called the Bouncers; they were Democrats and mainly Irish Catholics, in contrast to the Shiffler’s American Republican Party allegiance and “nativist” American composition.(5) The headquarters of the Weccacoe was at Catherine and Front Streets, less than a mile away from Franklin Hall. Clearly the Black members of the audience were familiar with the faces of the “Wiccy,” and had interacted with them outside the theatre. The Irish of the Fifth Ward, like the Blacks, constituted a significant but less than majority proportion of the ethnic composition of the ward: 4,381, or 18 percent, were Irish. This was a relatively high concentration of Irish for the city, since no ward was more than 28 percent Irish. Thus, both the Blacks and the Irish of the Fifth Ward found themselves to be large minorities outnumbered by the larger nativist population of the ward (Warner 139). Eric Lott, in his recent book Love and Theft, suggests that, despite the constant conflicts between Irish and Black throughout the country, the shared class niche also resulted in interracial friendships and even marriages (Lott 95).

Another thing that the volunteer firemen had in common with the Blacks in the neighborhood was a lack of property. Although in 1850 one-third to one-half of the property in the nearby districts of Moyamensing and Gray’s Ferry were owned by Irishmen (Clark 137), the journeymen who made up the membership of the volunteer fire companies “owned no real property” (Laurie 76). As for the Blacks, an 1848 census showed only 28 homeowners in the entire district of Southwark (Du Bois 288). So despite the fierce racial antagonisms prevalent between the Irish and the Blacks, the firemen of Southwark and the Black theatregoers did share some common class concerns, and perhaps it was this aspect of commonality, along with their geographic proximity, that allowed them to attend the low-priced performance together. The fact that the whites sat at a bench reserved for them in the front of the theatre may have been sufficient acknowledgment of white-skin privilege to satisfy their racial standards. Their privileged position signaled that, though the audience was filled with Blacks and the performers were Black, this was still Wiccy turf.

We can see, then, how each part of the minstrel audience made its own meaning out of the performance, in collaboration with the performers and other members of the audience. As with white minstrelsy, readings of the racial subtext by the audience were an important part of the experience. The history of minstrelsy is also the history of the piracy and distortion of Black culture by whites. The Ira Aldridge Troupe attempted to pirate that piracy, and, in collaboration with its audience, turn minstrelsy to its own ends. In an ironic twist, the reporter for the Clipper had a final suggestion for white performers. Speaking of the Aldridge Troupe, he invited his readers to plunder this newest manifestation of Black culture once more. In an enthusiastic endorsement, the reporter proclaimed that “we should like some of our [white] minstrel friends to see one of these performances. They would profit by it.” And indeed, as history shows, they did.

Notes

1. It is hard to verify whether the Aldridge Troupe was a professional, rather than an amateur, company given the vagaries of making a living in show business, especially for Blacks, during this period. However, a few factors point strongly in the direction of professional intention. First, the fact that a white reporter from New York City was present indicates a larger than local fame; second, the complexity of some of the acts, especially the acrobatics, indicates a performance that was not just thrown together overnight, but required long hours of practice; third, Harry Craig, who is reported as being the head of the troupe’s orchestral trio, is listed in the 1860 edition of Cohen’s Philadelphia, Pa. City Directory as being a musician by trade. Finally, the presence of a mixed Black and white audience indicates that the performance probably was not sponsored by a church or fraternal organization.

2. The mention of “Pickayune Butler” probably refers to John “Picayune” Butler, one of the very few nationally known Black entertainers of the period. He was famous for his banjo playing and introduced a popular song called “Picayune Butler’s Come to Town” (Southern). Another intriguing, though less likely, possible reference is to Pierce Butler, a wealthy white slaveowner, once married to the famous actress Fanny Kemble, who took up residence among the elite of Philadelphia. During the outbreak of the War, Butler went south to oversee his Georgia plantation, and while there probably took an oath of allegiance to the Confederacy. On his return to Philadelphia in August of 1862, he was arrested by federal authorities without benefit of habeas corpus for his pro-slavery sentiments (Dusinberre 128).

3. See, for example, the Public Ledger for 21 May 1863.

4. For a fascinating account of the volunteer fire companies of Philadelphia, see Laurie (71-87).

5. Of course, what Philadelphians called nativist American does not refer to American Indians but rather to those Protestants descended from English immigrants of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries who were strongly opposed to the waves of nineteenth-century immigration.

Works Cited

Clark, Dennis J. “The Philadelphia Irish: Persistent Presence.” Davis and Hailer 135-54.

Davis, Allan F., and Mark H. Haller, ads. The Peoples of Philadelphia. Philadelphia: Temple UP, 1973.

Du Bois, W. E. B. The Philadelphia Negro. 1899. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1967.

Dusinberre, William. Civil War Issues in Philadelphia 1856-1865. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1965.

Hershberg, Theodore. “Free Blacks in Antebellum Philadelphia.” Davis and Hailer 111-34.

Laurie, Bruce. “Fire Companies and Gangs in Southwark: The 1840s.” Davis and Hailer 71-87.

Lott, Eric. Love and Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class. New York: Oxford UP, 1993.

Marshall, Herbert, and Mildred Stock. Ira Aldridge: The Negro Tragedian. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1958.

Miller, Randall M., and John David Smith, eds. Dictionary of Afro-American Slavery. Westport: Greenwood, 1988.

“Negro Minstrelsy.” New York Clipper 13 June 1863: 70.

Southern, Eileen, ed. Biographical Dictionary of Afro-American and African Musicians, Westport: Greenwood, 1982.

Toll, Robert. Blacking Up. New York: Oxford UP, 1974.

Warner, Sam Bass, Jr. The Private City. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1968.

Weigley, Russell F. “A Peaceful City: Public Order in Philadelphia from Consolidation through the Civil War.” Davis and Hailer 155-74.

Zinn, Howard. A People’s History of the United States. 1980. New York: Harper, 1990.

And Now A (Listener-Sponsored) Word From Our (Non-Commercial) Sponsor

The problem: WBAI-99.5 FM in NYC, the radio station I work for, is a listener-sponsored, non-commercial radio station. In order to raise operating funds, we, like many other non-profit media outlets, hold on-air fund raisers wherein we give the listeners “thank-you gifts” as a reward for their donations. Some of those gifts are  tickets to movies, plays, lectures, etc. The problem is that tickets are very perishable—if listeners don’t grab them by the event date, the tickets become worthless.

So how can we encourage more listeners to go to our website to buy tickets?  One solution the station was able to use was the promo above I made. It was really fun to put this together. It took me less than an hour using Audacity, an open-source computer editing tool. Click on the grey triangle to hear the results.

Magic Saves the Day

Lots of magicians do the trick I’m doing in this video, but I really enjoy the presentation that I’ve worked out here with my colleague Jacob Lefco. I think it makes it a lot more fun and logical when you have a reason for tearing the newspaper up and making the magic happen.

This was performed yesterday at a high school talent show. The acoustics in the auditorium are less than stellar, but I think you can still get the idea fine, anyway. The students were a very enthusiastic crowd, as you can tell, and they are all new immigrants to the United States, so their English vocabulary for the most part is limited; that’s another reason why I tried to play it with a minimum of words on my part.

Hope you enjoy it.

Abbott and Costello Meet Shakespeare

Sometimes you’re in a restaurant, and there’s something on the menu that you know you just have to have, because it includes not only one, but two things you love, like Surf and Turf, or Strawberry Shortcake with Chocolate Ice Cream. Well, I felt that same kind of pleasure on stumbling across the above video. Two of my favorite things in the world, Shakespeare and Who’s on First are mashed up and beautifully scripted and acted by NJ actors David Foubert and Jay Leibowitz. Enjoy! And save me a slice of that Key Lime Pecan Pie with Whipped Cream . . .

Psychiatrists, Eartha Kitt, and Adultery

Jackie Mason rarely fails to make me laugh, and that’s been true for over fifty years. Enormously quick-witted and fast on his feet, he’s the Muhammed Ali of comedy, dancing and ducking until he delivers a knockout punch of humor. Here he is on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, on what used to be a favorite show, back in the day, of political liberals. In retrospect, his appearance on that show was somewhat ironic, given how Mason’s politics turned so right-wing as he got older. But there is no denying that no matter what his politics, Jackie Mason is a brilliant comedian. Watch as he takes a premise and follows through with relentless logic, wringing every drop of comedy from it.

Pop Haydn Explains It All For You

Pop (Whit) Haydn is one of the true gentlemen of magic and a wonderful magician. He puts an amazing amount of thought into what he does. As excellent as his sleight of hand is, his attention to character, script and routining is equally meticulous. His character of a lovable blustering rogue and con man is fun to watch. Take a few minutes to enjoy a very engaging performer. Click on the video above to see one of the routines he performs at the bar of The Magic Castle.

Last Laugh

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The story goes, Richard Burbage, arguably the finest English-speaking actor ever,* Shakespeare’s leading man in the Lord Chamberlain’s company, attracted many female admirers. His most popular role was Richard III, one of the most performed of Shakespeare’s plays during his lifetime.

Burbage’s longtime friend, Will Shakespeare, liked to play pranks on him. When Will heard that Burbage had arranged an assignation with a young woman, Shakespeare hurried to her house and tumbled into bed with the lady first. A few minutes later, Burbage arrived, and knocked on the woman’s door, announcing that Richard III had come. But in reply, Burbage heard a male voice on the other side of the door say, “Tell him, William the Conqueror comes before Richard the Third!”

*There’s a nice subject for a future post

The Komodo Dragon: Bob and Ray

 

The classic sketch by Bob and Ray.

Thanks to YouTuber Paul Bellefeuille

“It’s Very Humid Out”

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My friend, Alan, has a monthly theater group at the local library which hosts an event he likes to call “Instant Theater.” One of the games he plays is this: given two phrases, you must write a play using the first phrase as the opening line, and the last phrase as the closing line of the play. You have until the next meeting to write it, and then the actors perform it with no rehearsal, instantly.

Here is the modest contribution to the genre I wrote some time ago. The opening phrase I was given was, “It’s very humid out,” and my closing phrase was,  “The annual spring luncheon.”

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(PAT and ED are sitting in separate chairs, side by side facing front.)

PAT: (Turning away from ED, peering at something) It’s very humid out.

ED: Humid?

PAT: Yes, humid.

ED: How can you tell?

PAT: I’m looking out the window.

ED: I know you’re looking out the window, but how can you tell?

PAT: Because it’s wet.

ED: You see water?

PAT: I think so.

ED: You don’t see water.

PAT: I think I see water.

ED: Believe me, you don’t see water.

PAT: It could be water.

ED: Believe me, you don’t see water.

PAT: I thought I saw a drop.

ED: That would be impossible. That would be physically impossible, Isaac Newton impossible.

PAT: So what is it?

ED: I don’t know. A reflection. An artifact. I don’t know.

(Pause)

PAT: Dark out there.

ED: What’s it like?

PAT: The dark?

ED: Yes.

PAT: It’s pretty chilling. It’s like a blanket covering you, but the dark goes on forever.

ED: No light?

PAT: You can’t see?

ED: No.

PAT: Very far away. Very far away. A pinpoint. You can’t see from there?

ED: No.

(Pause)

PAT: It’s strange how things work out. How are you holding up?

ED: Easier than I thought it would be. I guess that’s the point of the training. When the time comes, it’s relatively easy.

(Pause)

ED: Who was the fourth President?

PAT: Why do you care?

ED: I was arguing with Sharon and I couldn’t remember who it was. It was either Monroe or Madison.

PAT: Monroe, no, I think Madison. No Monroe. Could be Madison. Federalist Papers. Monroe was the short one. I think Madison.

ED: You sure it wasn’t Monroe?

PAT: I don’t know, I get them mixed up. That’s what you talk about with your wife?

ED: Yes. That’s what passes for foreplay.

PAT: Sounds exciting.

ED: You never know what’s going to turn on some women.

PAT: Something to look forward to.

(Pause)

ED: Harder for you when you’re busy or just like this?

PAT: What do you mean?

ED: Well two months is a long time. Do you like to be busy? Or better when we’re on these half hour breaks?

PAT: I don’t know. I suppose busy is good. Although I like the breaks too. I like having the time to just be still and contemplate, thinking about the universe, thinking about how amazing this all is, how lucky we are. I was wondering if there would be a shift in my model of the world being up here for so long. And I think there has been. I think my perspective has changed. Neil said that was the big thing for him, that was the amazing thing for him, more than even the walk, just seeing just how small the Earth really was, how much it was really just one more little infinitesimal speck of the vast overall structure.

ED: How has it changed for you?

PAT: After a month and a half? It’s not so much, for me, about what’s out there, it’s about what’s inside me. Inside my brain. Like Shakespeare. The whole world inside that globe of my head. Even in the vast emptiness of just the two of us, the worlds I imagine, the universes I create. In this strange sort of solitude, I am the god of empires, the ruler of landscapes green, rocky, ocean-lapped. Look there, there’s a shepherd, barefoot in the break of a jagged mountain range calling to his sheep. Now look, armies clashing in the jungle, snipers ducking as bullets try to end their lives. Look, a lover with a rose she no longer knows what to do with, and See! a railroad car heading to the unplanned funeral of the family in the third seat.

ED: Pat.

PAT: Yes.

ED: They haven’t called.

PAT: What?

ED: It’s six thirty eight. They haven’t called.

PAT: It’s not six thirty eight.

ED: It’s six thirty eight, look in front of your nose. It’s been thirty eight minutes. They’re eight minutes late. What is that supposed to mean?

PAT: Look at the clock by the left panel. What does it say, you should be able to read it.

ED: Six thirty nine.

PAT: That’s strange. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.

ED: Call them. Call them. Call them.

PAT: Right. Ground control, Pat, come in please. Ground control, this is Pat, come in please, over.

(Long Pause)

PAT: Ground control, this is Pat, come in please, over. Ground control, this is Pat, come in please, over.

ED: Check the mike.

PAT: Ground control, Houston, this is Pat and Ed. Ground Control. Money makes money and the money that money makes, makes more money. Ground control. (Pause) The mike is fine.

ED: We’re off the flight path.

PAT: No.

ED: We’re off the flight path.

PAT: Well correct it for heaven’s sake.

ED: There are no position parameters.

PAT: How can there be no—

ED: I don’t know! There are no position parameters!

PAT: What are you nuts, read the freakin’ parameters.

ED: Do you see anything, do you see anything? If I could read the freakin–

PAT: There’s got to be—

ED: There isn’t!

(Pause. They stare at the empty screen)

ED: It’s completely blank.

PAT: It’s completely blank.

(Pause)

ED: Try the mike again.

PAT: Ground control this is Pat, Pat and Ed. Ground control this is Pat and Ed, come in please.

(Pause)

What time is it?

ED: Six forty-four.

PAT: Fourteen minutes.

ED: They should have contacted us.

PAT: Maybe they’re trying to and can’t get through. Maybe that’s what happened. We have–

ED: Nothing happened, nothing happened! It’s six forty-four and they’re supposed to have contacted us. We have epic equipment failure, that’s what we have.

PAT: What do we do? There’s a procedure. There’s a procedure for everything.

ED: There’s no procedure—

PAT: There’s a procedure for everything. The next–

ED: You just did the procedure, I just did the procedure, there’s no more procedure–

PAT: You can’t not–

ED: What’s next, nothing’s next! Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

PAT: You can’t just—

ED: Nothing!

(Long Pause)

ED: Can you see anything?

PAT: Where?

ED: Out there.

PAT: I told you—dark.

(Pause)

PAT: I remember when I was a kid I used to spend the whole car ride to the country with my face against the window, watching the scenery change, trees, telephone poles, cars, farmland, motorcycle with a girl on the back–red hair, holding on to the leather jacket of the guy in front. I used to pretend that we weren’t going anywhere. We were at the drive-in movies and everything outside the window was a movie where I had to guess the story.

(Pause)

ED: We only had two more weeks.

PAT: Yes.

ED: It would’ve been Joanie’s birthday. Three years. (Pause) I think I need to go to the bathroom.

(Long Pause)

PAT: I love: My mother. I love: My sisters. My brother. Camille, God help me. God.

The beach. Plums.

(Pause)

ED: Joanie. Sharon. Poplar Avenue. Softball. Flying. Space.

PAT: Music. The Beatles. Lucy in the Sky. Patton. Johnny Depp. Sam Shepard. Gus Grissom.

ED: Yuri Gagarin. Neil Armstrong. William Shakespeare. Nikolai Lobachevsky. Albert Einstein. Ella Fitzgerald. John Glenn.

PAT: Charlie Parker. Salt Peanuts. Django Reinhardt.

ED: “All the Things You Are.”

PAT: Newport Jazz Festival. The 1969 World Series Mets.

ED: New Year’s Eve, 2003. Hiking every year in the mountains. Parent –Teacher Day.

(Pause)

PAT: One more.

ED: One more?

PAT One more.

ED: Last one. Last one. (PAT and ED clasp hands)

(Pause. Quietly) Fireworks on the river. The annual spring luncheon.

(Quiet. Fadeout)

Frankly, Scarlett, I Don’t Give a Damn

by Edward Lyddell Sawyer, woodburytype, 1879

What does it take to pursue one’s art?

On a cold evening in London, 1871,  Henry Irving, not yet a Sir, and his wife were riding in a horse-carriage. Irving was the first actor ever to be knighted, but on this evening, he was still relatively unknown. He had just opened in a new play, The Bells, which would make him a star. Later, along with his acting partner Ellen Terry, he would score in dozens of plays. Hamlet, Much Ado, Merchant of Venice, provided him with some of his greatest roles. His portrayals were acclaimed for their realism; his Shylock was unique for the time—his Jew was an actual person with feelings (see the photo above). But right now, he was just a journeyman actor from the working class who had struggled hard to make a name for himself.

In The Bells, he played Matthias, a guilt-stricken murderer. At the end of the play, Irving’s character dreams of a noose put around his neck; upon awakening, he struggles to take the imaginary noose from his throat, but then dies of a heart attack.

“The play left the first-nighters a little dazed. Old fashioned playgoers did not know what to make of it as a form of entertainment. But when the final curtain fell, the audience, after a gasp or two, realised that they had witnessed the most masterly form of tragic acting that the British stage had seen for many a long day, and there was a storm of cheers,” said a writer for the Evening News.

But Irving was only a star that night to the few people in the stalls who had come out to see him.

As he got into the horse-carriage to go home, his wife, Florence, pregnant with their second child, turned to him and said, “Tell me Henry, are you going to go on making a fool of yourself like this all your life?”

Without a word to her, Irving stopped the carriage, got out at Hyde Park Corner, and never saw his wife again.

Rhett Butler, eat your heart out.

The Unexpected Guest: C.P. Shakes

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(Click to enlarge)

A special guest showed up for the 5th Annual Shakespeare Sonnet Slam, in which I participated, in Central Park this week.

C.P. Shakes, arrived with Perdita the Pigeon on his shoulder, and performed Sonnet #149 with the bird taking every other line.

Later, Mr. Shakes confided to me that the C.P. stood for Central Park.

My own assigned Sonnet #133 was a little more subdued:

sonnet slam jack 2

The weather was an unlikely 49 degrees with winds making it seem even colder. But we made it through with no major mishaps. It took us almost exactly three hours to perform all 154 sonnets. The highlight for me was the performance of Sonnet #18 (“Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?) by the wonderful actor Richard Thomas.  I’m hoping to be able to post audio/video of it later next month.

Shame, Where is Thy Blush?: Analyzing a Sonnet from an Actor’s Point of View

Gack!!!

The Shakespeare Sonnet Slam is only a few days away and I haven’t finished memorizing or analyzing my assigned sonnet yet.

Sonnet 133 to be exact. One of the strangest, most interesting, and perhaps most pornographic of the sonnets, best I can tell.

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me:
Is’t not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard:
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail.
    And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

Now, one is not required to memorize for the slam, and I plan to have the typed sonnet with me, but given my eyesight, nervousness, and laziness, if I’m going to make any sense of this, it’s best to memorize. I know that the only way I can memorize something like this is if I manage to uncover its sense. And that’s what its all about. You don’t have to do great acting up there, but you do have to talk sense.

All right, how to find that sense from what first looks nonsense?

First: the structure of the sonnet gives you lots of clues. Shakespeare’s sonnets are always structured as three quatrains and a final couplet. So lets look at the poem again, divided that way:

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me:
Is’t not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?

***
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.

***
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard:
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail.

***
  And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

That is how I approach memorizing a sonnet. Each quatrain is another thought, argument, or approach. The final couplet is generally a wry commentary on the preceding approaches; either it is a clever summary of them, or a recognition of the futility of the speaker’s thoughts.

So let’s start off with the first quatrain.

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me:
Is’t not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?

Beshrew … Err … let’s start off with that first word—Beshrew. What does it mean? The dictionaries tell us “curse.” Okay, so we’re starting off pretty strong, the speaker (let’s say “I,” from now on) is cursing someone (let’s say “you,” from now on). Why am I cursing you? Because you are making my heart groan. And not only me, but the same for my best friend. Wait a second, my best friend and I are both in love with you! And you know it, and yet you cruelly delight in it. The three of us are caught in an awful compelling love triangle.

Now the loyalty to a same-sex best friend is a theme that runs throughout Shakespeare’s plays. It’s extraordinarily important to Shakespeare’s characters. Betrayal of a supposed friend is the motor of Julius Caesar, Othello, Two Gentlemen of Verona, and many more of his plays. So we need to take this very seriously.

So let’s go back to that first quatrain again, words like “deep wound” begin to take on a sexual meaning. My friend is hopelessly enthralled with you; you who have gleefully sliced our friendship apart with a deep wound. You have enslaved not only me, but my best friend. That is the crime of crimes.

Onto the second quatrain.

Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.

A change in the main thought now. The first quatrain was about cruel you; this second quatrain is about how I and you and my best friend have now irrevocably changed our relationships. The first line says that at first it was me whose soul (and body!) you had corrupted. The next line talks about “my next self” i.e. the one closest to me, my best friend, as being corrupted as well. You engrossed him harder. And if you want to go for the sexual meaning there, why not?

The next two lines say that my relationship is torn with you, my friend, and myself. But worse, each of us has three torn relationships now because of this madness, and to repair it would require each of us to repair the three relationships.

The third quatrain seeks a way to resolve the dilemma.

Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard:
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail.

I beg you to let me be your only lover; be cruel to me, so that my friend can be spared your cruelty. And perhaps, when you understand how important it is for me to shield my friend, to not betray him, then you will be a little kinder to me, in admiration of my loyalty.

But in the final couplet I have to admit that my dream of being free of you and your cruelty—and my own need for you—is a fantasy. And these last two lines are incredibly evocative and can be read so many ways.

And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

Right now, I think the most daring is to hit the final rhyme. Usually, I’m not a fan of stressing the rhyme in verse, but I think ending couplets in Shakespeare are an exception. So being pent in thee, “and all that is in me.”  But stressing me in the last line  almost forces the rhythm to add an additional stress on that. So,

And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

Was that Shakespeare’s intention? I can’t say. But I think it is a viable subtext for an actor. An actor always looks for a strong compelling subtext, even if it looks like other interpretations might be more likely. More, after the slam takes place later this week.

Hard Lessons

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Judith Malina, an extraordinary theatre artist, died this past week. I met her a few times, briefly, when I was a member of a theater company that rehearsed and performed in the theater space she owned on East Third Street in Lower Manhattan. She had generously allowed us to use her theater, and occasionally she would peek into a rehearsal and nod encouragingly.

Her accomplishments were many, and as co-founder, with her husband Julian Beck, of The Living Theatre, she influenced generations of actors, directors, and playwrights. Playwright Karen Malpede has written a moving tribute to her here:

Judith Malina: A Vibrant Tremor

Malpede ends her piece with a recent poem from Judith Malina’s published diary:

Hard Lessons:

Learn patience first,
And after patience, love,
And after love
The eternal joy
Of having loved.

Why I Love the Theater

entertainer213

Laurence Olivier had just given an amazing theatrical performance. His friend Roddy McDowall, rushed backstage after the performance to congratulate the esteemed actor. But when he opened the door of the dressing room, he saw the great man seated at his make-up table, head on the table, sobbing.

“Laurence, What in heaven’s name are you crying for? It was a brilliant performance. I’ve never seen you so good.”

“I know,” wailed the actor, “And the bloody thing is I don’t know how I did it, and I know I won’t be able to do it again!“

Spoon Swallowing Silliness

A bit of magic and a dash of acting make for a nourishing meal.

Shot in one take, no editing.

Click on the video above to play.

Disclaimer: No Spoons were harmed in the making of this video.

“The Foodist Way of Life is Berserkery…”

Theodore Gottlieb, better known as Brother Theodore, was a Holocaust survivor whose entire family was wiped out at Dachau. He subsequently created a stand-up act that was one of the strangest and funniest comedy monologues I’ve ever experienced. He performed regularly in New York City in the 1980s at the 13th Street Theater, where I saw his show several times.

He billed himself as “Brother Theodore…Philosopher…Metaphysician…Podiatrist. ” (He once demanded of my date as to why she was going out with that comic book character next to her.) He lived on the Upper West Side of NYC, and if you were feeling a wave of insomnia, you could often catch him playing chess in the middle of the night at the local chess parlor.

He performed essentially the same show unchanged up until the age of 94. Yesterday’s post reminded me of this comedic genius. Click on the picture above to see the video.

Great Performances: Zero Mostel

Zero Mostel as Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof singing “If I were a Rich Man.”

“You must speak.” “I can’t.” “You must, it’s our only hope.”

In the Great Dictator, Charlie Chaplin plays a Jewish barber who is mistaken for the mad dictator of Ptomania, Adenoid Hynkel. Hynkel’s party wears the insignia of the Double Cross. Circumstances force the shy barber to give a speech to millions of Hynkel’s followers. What follows is one of the most extraordinary speeches in cinema history from the most celebrated silent film star ever. Click on the video above to play.