Theatre advice from Dad
This post is for actors of all ages.
Recently, I was unexpectedly reunited with two boxes of my notebooks and papers that had been left in an attic in Vermont for more than 20 years. By the kindness of strangers they found their way back to me, here in Pennsylvania. It's an amazing story but way off-topic for this blog.
As for the contents of the boxes, I had a hint that there would be papers from my Dartmouth days, but really had no idea what else would be inside. I have found countless notebooks and long academic essays I wrote about things not the least bit important to me anymore, if they ever were.
After all that writing practice I hope I'm half-decent at it now. 😬
In those boxes there are many letters, too.
The first letter I opened has some unexpectedly sweet theatre advice, perhaps the only theatre advice I got from my dad. It's sweeter yet, considering I was just in 8th grade and playing a crappy role in the crappy school musical, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. My dad was in Thibodaux, Louisiana, I believe shooting A Long Hot Summer (which he called The Long, Hot Bummer) with Don Johnson, his Boy and His Dog cast mate, during the heat of Miami Vice mania.
Read the whole letter in the images or just jump to the quoted text below. Disclaimer: our family (and some of my friends) had a whole ridiculous naming scheme with everything ending in "-oose" thanks to my younger brother, which you will see throughout the letter.
He wrote:
From what I hear of ... your rehearsals, it could give you the wrong idea of what the theater is about. It should be a time of fun and creativity and exchanges of ideas to bring about the best in the play and the cast. If you remember José at the house playing blackjack with you, it will give you an idea of the fun we have – as applied to a script instead of a game. Of course you have to have form and pace but that is what the director is for – not to give orders and line readings.... So have your own fun and make the best of it. Maybe I could direct a play for you when you're in high school – as I did for Sam. I'd love it!
I'm so touched that my dad offered this encouragement and advice to me, just 13 years old, and offered to direct me in a play. I had no recollection of that.
I do remember playing blackjack with José, in the TV room with its blue formica table and black chairs with wheels on them. (Blackjack, in case you don't know, is a card game played in casinos or other betting environments.) José, legendary director of Eugene O'Neill plays and a theatrical soul mate of my dad, would come to the house to visit from time to time, as family friends do. While I didn't know him deeply, José was like a wonderful uncle, tender and smiling and just fun to be with.
José taught me how to play blackjack and also made me very lucky – somehow I got a true blackjack that first night I played! José made learning how to play fun, and he made me feel quite special that night. There's a feeling and an image that remains, rather than the sequence of events, and it's a warm smile, warm light, laughter. I'm sure after I went up to bed, Dad and Mom and José talked long into the night about serious matters relating to the theatre, but when kids were around they didn't really get into it.
Dad and José had a lengthy, deep and mystical relationship with O'Neill and each other – and alcohol and the theatre. I'm sure I will explore it many times but you can read about some of it here.
I guess I'll have to watch A Long Hot Summer now. Interesting that Dad was thinking about José at this time in Louisiana doing a TV movie. I wonder if he took this job to pay for the revival of The Iceman Cometh. And now I wonder if José was visiting our house that night of blackjack to discuss the possible revival. I'm not sure I'll find out, but I will try!
Do you have any advice your parents gave you as a kid? Share in the comments!
P.S. I've also been working for a long time on a post about Iceman, but I'm finding it difficult. The play is a massive thing, and then writing about the two productions, my dad's relationship to it, and all the events around it...it is daunting and epic.