Downstage Center hits 300

Today marks another milestone for my favorite podcast, the American Theatre Wing's Downstage Center. This week's interview, with composer John Kander, is number 300.

Congratulations!

At the time of my first trip to Broadway, in 2007, I was pretty much a blank slate when it came to theatre. Four-time Tony winner Audra McDonald? I would have shrugged. But somehow I found my way to Downstage Center, then a co-production of the Wing and XM Satellite Radio.

The interviews with actors, directors, playwrights and designers were my ticket to the world of theatre on Broadway and beyond. I'd download the podcast from iTunes and listen at the gym or in the car.

The hosts, XM Satellite's John von Soosten and the Wing's executive director, Howard Sherman, were great at making the shows relaxed and conversational. Their questions were insightful and the guests weren't rushed - they were given plenty of time to talk about their lives and careers.

For example, I now know that at age 16, McDonald played Eva Peron in a Fresno, Calif., dinner-theatre production of Evita. One of Nathan Lane's first professional acting jobs was in a musical about the history of New Jersey, called Jerz. And Jan Maxwell got her Equity card after being cast as the understudy for the role of Lily St. Regis in a bus-and-truck tour of Annie.

It's been great to find an interview with someone whose work I've just seen onstage. I can't pick a favorite - every program has an anecdote or a quote that sticks with me, and I've shared a few of them on my blog. But the one with Marian Seldes is a gem. I even had a chance to tell her how much I enjoyed it.

Since August 2009 Downstage Center has been solely a Wing production, with Sherman handling the interviewing. (On the Wing's blog, he writes about the program's history.) I hope it'll continue, with his participation, after he steps down as executive director next year.

Jerry Zaks on theatre and religion

I'm catching up with the American Theatre Wing's Downstage Center interviews and I love this quote from director Jerry Zaks as he talked about the 1992 Broadway revival of Guys and Dolls:

"The most important thing to me in any of these productions is the transmission of joy of some sort, or some sort of ecstatic experience.

"In temple when I was a kid, the happiest moment was at the end of service - a) because it was the end of the service but b) because everyone stood up and sang and it was ecstatic. We sang, and it was joyous.

"I've always wanted my productions to perform the same function as going to a good service would. Now, I'm not comparing faith in God with the theatre but you know what, sometimes I think it's more powerful."

While it's been a long time since I've attended synagogue regularly, I know what Zaks is talking about - I remember the melodies from childhood. There's something about singing in unison that's joyous and truly gives you a sense of community.

Of course theatre usually isn't participatory in the same way as a religious service - although going up on stage at the Hirschfeld Theatre on Broadway at the end of Hair certainly was an ecstatic experience for me.

I've had other powerful moments at the theatre that I'd compare to a religious experience.

I was in tears hearing "For Good" the first time I saw Wicked, on tour. And Patti LuPone's "Everything's Coming Up Roses" in Gypsy at City Center was rapturous - the only time I've been part of a mid-show standing ovation.

There's something about being at a live performance that you can't replicate watching a movie at the multiplex or sitting at home on the couch with the remote.

The play that changed my life

I've already ordered The Play that Changed My Life, a book compiled by the American Theatre Wing in which 19 playwrights talk about the works that influenced them and their careers.

If you'd like a chance at winning a copy, and a package of other theatre-related titles from Applause Publishing, the Wing is sponsoring an essay contest.

Just write, in 350 words or less, about the show that had the greatest impact on you, when you saw it in the course of your life and most importantly, why it meant so much to you.

I'm guessing most of the people who enter will write about shows they saw when they were young children or in their teens or twenties. I didn't become a regular theatergoer until I was - let's just say older. But as my story proves, it's never too late to start.

Of course, anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows about the play that changed my life: seeing A Moon for the Misbegotten on Broadway with Kevin Spacey in April 2007.

Before that, I'd gone to the theatre a handful of times over the years but it was never a habit. I didn't grow up with theatre-loving parents. My friends weren't theatergoers. And it never occurred to me that I could go alone. Plus, I thought I'd have to get all dressed up.

I'd only been to New York City a few times, never longer than overnight and always for a specific event. And I'd never been to a show on Broadway. But the draw of Kevin Spacey was impossible to resist. The problem was, where to begin? I didn't even know how to get tickets. (Yes, I was that clueless!)

Enter Steve on Broadway.

I found his blog and e-mailed him asking for help. Along with great advice, Steve gave me his friendship, the first of many wonderful theatergoing friends I've made.

He was so excited about my first trip to Broadway that my nervousness, and any thoughts I might have harbored about backing out, evaporated. What began as a pipe dream became something I could see myself doing.

And as I pored through the archives of Steve's blog, peppering him with questions about all the shows he'd seen - and it seemed like he'd seen everything, his passion for the theatre was irresistible, too.

My Broadway adventure began on April 12, 2007.

When I walked into the Brooks Atkinson Theatre and saw the set for A Moon for the Misbegotten, the same one I'd seen pictures of from the London production at the Old Vic Theatre, it was thrilling.

The orchestra section was small - more intimate than I thought it would be. I was in Row A, Seat 109 and much closer to the stage than I thought I would be. And noticing how casually my fellow theatergoers were dressed, I realized that I'd packed way too much!

The first person I saw when the play began was Eve Best as Josie Hogan, and she made an entrance I'll never forget - bursting out the front door of this little ramshackle farmhouse with incredible energy and purpose. I was mesmerized.

As for Kevin well, I was a little bit in shock. All I could think was, "It's Kevin Spacey. I can't believe it. I can't believe I'm so close." My jaw dropped in amazement, a smile crossed my face, and I'm not sure it ever completely left for 2 1/2 hours.

It was such a different experience from seeing him in a movie - much more memorable because he was right there in front of me. I saw every wrinkle and line in his face, the little strawberry-colored birthmark on the back of his neck, the way his hair curls around his ears. At one point, I swear he looked right at me.

Afterward, I stood with a small crowd at the stage door, managed to say a few words to Kevin and got his autograph. I told him it was my first time seeing a play on Broadway and that I'd made the trip just for him. He said, "welcome."

You know what, I did feel welcome in New York City. I ended up walking around Times Square for about an hour, reveling in being a part of the huge crowd, snapping pictures of theatre marquees all lit up.

And I was hooked.

Is Alice Ripley's mercury rising?

I'm so glad Downstage Center is back but while the American Theatre Wing podcast was on hiatus, I had a chance to catch up on some of the older interviews.

For example, I hadn't listened to the interview with Alice Ripley, which aired in February 2008. This was before Next to Normal opened on Broadway, when it was at New York's Second Stage Theatre. And she's just as forthcoming as she was when I met her at the stage door.

At one point Ripley is asked about her eating habits. She explains that she's very careful what she puts into her body because it can affect her singing voice. Apparently honey helps her respiratory system.

And then there was this, which truly made me gasp:

"It's always a challenge to figure out what to eat in between shows on a two-show day. Sushi's usually a good thing. But you know you have make sure you eat just the right thing because you don't want to be weighed down by it."

Sushi?! Yikes. Alice, please be careful with that, okay?

And I'd like to thank eBay

Wow, I'm kind of surprised by this: according to New York magazine, there's a Tony award for sale on eBay. I didn't even know you were allowed to sell one.

The award belonged to the late costume designer Florence Klotz, who won it for her work on the 1985 musical Grind. Ms. Klotz, who died in 2006 at the age of 86, won a total of six Tonys, including for Follies, Pacific Overtures and Kiss of the Spider Woman.

I know that since 1950, every Oscar winner has had to sign an agreement that neither they nor their heirs can sell the statuette without first giving the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences the right to buy it back - for one dollar! Here's an article from Forbes that explains it all.

I don't know whether the American Theatre Wing has a similar stipulation for a Tony. But according to a New York Times story, Christie's auction house sold one in 2007 for $4,800 and another, which may have been returned to the manufacturer because of a misspelling, sold last year for $5,676.25.

(Update: Kevin at Theatre Aficionado at Large says there is one, and it requires that anyone wishing to sell an award first offer it to the Theatre Wing for a nominal sum. Here are the details. Apparently, the Tony that Klotz received for Grind predates the requirement.)

I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I agree with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences spokesman who told Forbes: "They're not tchotchkes to be bought off of a shelf." On the other hand, I can sympathize with someone who needs the money, an heir who doesn't have an emotional attachment to the award or who might want to use the proceeds for some worthy cause.

Of course, a Tony won't net you as much as an Oscar. The Forbes story says that an Oscar can bring as much as $1.5 million. Bidding for the Tony starts at $10,000, although you can buy it now for $20,000. But I think the principle is the same - you should get one by earning it, not because you have enough money to buy one on eBay.

The great magical quotient

I bought myself a shiny, silvery 120GB iPod Classic to replace the 20GB model whose hard drive expired. It wasn't easy. I felt like Tom Hanks in The Money Pit. I had to upgrade my operating system so the iPod would run on my PowerBook, and I had to buy a new case to protect the screen.

But it's up and running, with plenty of room for my show tunes and theatre-related podcasts. Now, while I'm waiting for Downstage Center to resume, I can download all of the Working in the Theatre podcasts from the American Theatre Wing and watch them while I walk on the treadmill.

Of course, I have to start with the May 2007 program on leading men, which included Kevin Spacey, who was on Broadway in A Moon for the Misbegotten at the time.

Kevin was the person who first sparked my interest in the theatre. I became a fan around the time he became artistic director of London's Old Vic Theatre, and he was so passionate whenever he talked about being on the stage.

Here's some of what he had to say:

"People come into a theatre and it's the most artificial surrounding you can imagine. There's big curtains, there's exit signs, there's chairs, there's programs. And yet somehow, if the elements have come together right, 20 minutes into a play that entire group of a thousand people or less go to a world that you're asking them to go to and they believe in that world.

And that collective experience, where a thousand strangers come into a building and believe, is what to me is the great magical quotient of when great theatre, great performances, happen. It's almost like a breath. We feel the audience."

Happy birthday Marian Seldes!

Thanks to Sarah at Adventures in the Endless Pursuit of Entertainment, I know that Marian Seldes turns 80 today. (Sarah's created a great photo montage of Seldes' career and her lengthy list of stage credits.) Of course, I can't let the day go by without paying my own tribute to this legendary and gracious actress.

Before I made my first trip to Broadway last year, I was vaguely familiar with her name. I knew that her father, Gilbert Seldes, had been a famous literary critic and Kevin Spacey had mentioned in an interview that she was one of his teachers at Juilliard. But when I decided to see Deuce, I was much more excited about Angela Lansbury, who was making her return to Broadway after an absence of 25 years.

I know a lot of people felt that Terrence McNally's Deuce was sort of thin as a play, but I have to disagree. I enjoyed it so much that I wish it had lasted twice as long as its 90-minute running time. I was enthralled the entire time listening to Seldes' and Lansbury's characters, former tennis professionals who hadn't seen each other in decades.

Granted, there isn't much action. At one point, each of them stands up. But they're mostly just sitting in chairs, in a stadium, reacting to imaginary tennis balls whizzing back and forth as they watch a match at the U.S. Open. Occasionally, the play-by-play announcers chime in and an adoring fan stops by.

But most of the play is simply the two women - former doubles partners - sitting and talking, reminiscing about their lives. And I think that's what made it memorable for me. It's so basic - two people telling a story in front of an audience. It's the world they create with their words that's important, not car chases or special effects. And it's probably one of the most difficult acting jobs because all you have is language, in all of its nuances.

I felt so privileged to be in the company of these two great actresses. I was immediately caught up in their characters. It could easily have ventured into Grumpy Old Men territory and been completely jokey, but it didn't. It was sweet and funny. I liked hearing them talk about the old days, about how things had changed for women, for female athletes, about their hopes and disappointments.

I saw the play on a chilly April evening, and of course I waited at the stage door afterward. Despite the cold, both women were incredibly gracious and accommodating to the crowd that was waiting for them. They signed Playbills and Seldes went down the line, talking to people. They are troupers in every sense of the word.

While Lansbury signed her name in bold strokes, I was especially struck by the fact that Seldes, such a strong figure on stage, has such tiny, delicate handwriting. She signed her name using a blue ballpoint pen and when someone offered her a thick, black marker, she politely declined, saying that she couldn't possibly use it.

Three months later, when I was back in New York, I went to City Center to see Gypsy, and who should come down the aisle, taking a seat almost across from me, but Marian Seldes! I was a little hesitant about approaching her. I mean, yeah, I know you're supposed to leave actors alone when they're on their own time. But what can I say? I'm starstruck! I'm a fangirl!

People kept coming up to her before the show, at intermission, some of them staying way too long in my estimation. The woman barely had a moment to herself. But finally, I saw an opening. I figured, I'll go over for a quick hello and tell her how much I loved Deuce. What could it hurt, right?

I had just listened to a wonderful interview with Seldes on the American Theatre Wing's Downstage Center program. So I went over to where she was sitting, bent down, told her how much I'd enjoyed the interview and how much I loved her in Deuce. She smiled so sweetly, thanked me, and told me how much she loved being in Deuce. She started to talk about Gypsy, saying "Isn't it wonderful," and then she nuzzled my cheek. How awesome is that!

What I admire most about Seldes is that she has maintained such a deep commitment to the theatre over the decades and is so passionate and eloquent when she talks about her craft. At the same time, she's so gracious. And talk about a trouper - she was in Deathtrap during its entire Broadway run and never missed a performance in four years. That's 1,793 performances!

So, a very happy 80th birthday to Marian Seldes. Thank-you for a memorable performance on stage and being so welcoming off stage.

'Theatre for everybody'

I've listened to lots of Downstage Center podcasts from the American Theatre Wing, and usually they're G-rated. So it surprised me when I saw that an interview with James Earl Jones carried an "explicit" warning. The interview is great, but the actor known as the voice of CNN and Darth Vader is fairly free with the expletives.

I guess the language is fitting for his current role, as a very profane Big Daddy in the revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. (I wish I could see and hear him in that!) But here's an old clip from Sesame Street that's suitable for the whole family:



I've really enjoyed working my way through the Downstage Center archives, and I've learned a lot. In addition to interviews with actors, directors, composers, producers and playwrights, there have been shows with critics, on Broadway advertising, and on recording cast albums. It's all very interesting stuff. One of my all-time favorites is a 2007 interview with the legendary Marian Seldes, who, I am certain, would never, ever utter a four-letter word.

There are always one or two parts of the program, one or two quotes, that really grab my attention, tell me something I hadn't thought about before. This time, it happened when Jones was talking about the opportunity he found as an actor in New York City in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He came to New York after a stint in the Army.

"When I came out of the Army, no longer did you have to be a Barrymore to be a qualified, respected actor. Marlon Brando had been on our stage Marlon Brando is everyman, and that meant every man of every color could benefit from that. The civil-rights movement, Martin Luther King, all that. There was a confluence of energy in this country. Not only in this country, but in Europe, in England with the angry young men period, in France with the avant garde period. ... You didn't have to be a Barrymore, you could be a Brando. And that opened up the theater for everybody, finally."

Jerz(ey) Boy

I'm a big fan of the American Theatre Wing's Downstage Center podcasts. I've probably listened to half of the nearly 200 interviews with actors, playwrights, directors and others connected with the theater. As someone who doesn't have years of Broadway theatergoing behind her, it's great to hear actors talk about how they got started in the business, some of their earlier shows. There are always at least a couple of stories or quotes that stick in my mind.

Last week, I listened to an interview with Nathan Lane, currently starring as President Charles Smith in David Mamet's Oval Office satire November, which Lane describes it as an "absurdist political cartoon in the form of a play."

He reminisced about one of his first professional acting jobs, for a small theater in East Orange, N.J., called the Halfpenny Playhouse. It was around the time of the bicentennial, and they were putting together a musical revue about the history of New Jersey, called Jerz, which was performed at school and colleges around the state. Lane's big number was called "The Statue of Liberty Lives in Jersey City."

And file this story under "They'd never do it today." Lane said that in 1972, when he was in high school, he saw the revival of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, with Phil Silvers in his Tony-winning role. The show wasn't doing good business so as a publicity stunt, the producers had a free Fourth of July matinee. "I stood on line in the blazing sun and I was the last person let into the theater," Lane recalled, "and then they closed the doors."

Apparently, giving away tickets didn't help. It closed on Aug. 12, after 156 performances. (The second revival, for which Lane won a Tony award, did much better, running from 1996 to 1998, with more than 700 performances.)

Still maybe that experience is why Lane has a soft spot for matinees:

"Those are the best shows, the matinees. I love the matinees. The matinee people, they want to be there. They haven't been dragged by a spouse or they're not there on a business trip of some kind. They're there to see the play or the people in the play and they want to have a good time. Very often in the evening, they're a little more judgmental, or you know, go ahead and show me, prove to me how hilarious you are. But the matinees are always great."