IMMORTALITY and the MOMENT: The Writing On the Wall

Lakewood Theater, my summer home growing up

I had the karmic good fortune (to borrow a phrase from novelist Roland Merullo, one of my favorite professors from Bennington) to spend my summers growing up at Lakewood Theater, first as a theater brat tagging along with my parents, and then as an actor.  I can't say for certain how many plays I have been in at Lakewood Theater, only that it is a whole lot.  Because of my association with this historic institution, I have one of the largest extended families you will ever see.

There is a rich history and many ghosts running through the walls of this building, one of my favorite buildings on the planet.  I could write an entire post on its history, and may some day, but today I would like to focus on just a relatively small piece of history that only a relatively select few are given the opportunity to behold.

The dressing rooms, behind the hallowed stage, have walls that are covered with signatures of actors who have lived inside of them for the run of a show.  All right, perhaps they are not technically "lived in", but, trust me, they are lived in.  I have been in each and every one of them over the years.  My favorite is dressing room number 2.  I have especially fond memories of number 2.  You will find my name on that wall quite a bit. 

It's amazing the names you will find in Lakewood's dressing rooms.  When I was playing Finch in "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying", I was delighted to find the signature of Hal Holbrook on the wall of my dressing room for the same part more than 30 years before.  Hume Cronyn is there, as well as John Travolta (who appeared in Bus Stop years ago, his signature now faded, but always a source of excitement), as well as countless others. 

And there are plenty of names that years from now no one will recognize (I count my own among them). 

Every one signs differently.  Some make huge pieces of art, others are small and humble, barely noticeable.  Some write their name, followed by their character's name, followed by the name of the show and the year it was performed (I do variations of this).  Some write quotes from the show.  Some people write their names together.  Some search to find the perfect, unobtrusive spot, and others search for the spot that will get them the most attention. 

It's all good. 

I can't say for certain that I have signed for every show I've been in, but I know I have for most of them.  And whenever I move into a dressing room at Lakewood, I look around, checking out for the names of people I know, as well as the older signatures of rep actors, young hopefuls getting their professional start as part of Lakewood's stock company, back when it was an Equity house. 

Funny, but the old lighting booth at my high school, Foxcroft Academy, is also covered with signatures of actors and techies from shows over the years (the shows are no longer performed at FA, but at the local theater in town, Center Theatre). 

Why this desire to sign the walls?  Why do actors take part in this fun, legal graffiti? 

In my opinion, I think it comes from the idea of leaving your mark.  Theater, as we know, is a medium of the moment.  A performance is a specific time in the Universe that is shared by the performers, the crew, and that particular audience.  And then it is gone from the physical, tangible world.  It is filed into the memories of each person involved, all of the witnesses if you will.  Obviously, this is unlike film and video, which is a more permanent medium. 

It is this shared moment that makes me love live theater above other forms of performing.  It is this connection, this shared memory, that makes it all worthwhile.  Each signature on the wall of Lakewood Theater's dressing rooms represents a treasured experience--- it represents an individual with a theater story to tell, a perception of a moment in time that is fixed and unshakeable and beautiful in their memory.  It is a way to capture a sense of permanence and immortality in a passing flash of creation, a piece of art that is viewed but once and must be held on to.  These signatures say, "I was here.  I was part of this connection, this communion with others.  I made something with these people, something imperfect, but all the more beautiful because of it.  I was a part of this family."

A very wise and lovely person once told me that it is a good thing that some moments are not captured by anything but memory.  Because in memory, every moment can truly last forever, and never be anything but perfect. 

I wish I could say things so eloquently.

I will be back in good old dressing room number 2 this afternoon, but will not sign its walls yet again until the end of the run.  But I will look at some of the old signatures, one in particular, and take a moment to bask in those perfect memories, those moments that have become immortal for me.

Until next time... remember, theater is a sport.

Writing Inspiration: How and Why I Wrote "I Don't Mind That You're Ugly"

The Play Script for I Don't Mind That You're Ugly, available from Brooklyn Publishers

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host at Theater is a Sport.  Today I would like to talk to you about my writing inspiration for my play I Don't Mind That You're Ugly, a one act romantic comedy.  I believe it was the sixth play I had accepted for publication, and it is one of my favorites, largely because I think it is sweet and funny, hopefully like I am in real life.

It is no secret that here in America, many people have issues with their appearance.  For better or worse, and with help from the media, a good number of human beings obsess a little bit about the way that they look.  It was this little obsession with appearance that were the seeds of the play that would become I Don't Mind That You're Ugly.

The story is about an "average looking" (whatever that means) guy named Clyde, who is waiting at THE FANCIEST RESTAURANT IN TOWN for his girlfriend Kira.  He is planning to propose to her.  Before Kira arrives, the staff of the restaurant, who are pretty rude, do not really believe that Clyde is waiting for anyone.... how could he have a girlfriend?  Already, we begin to see that Clyde has some feelings of "not being good-looking enough" for his girlfriend.  When Kira arrives, and looks stunningly beautiful, everyone has difficulty believing that she could be with Clyde.  But Kira is a sweetheart, whose true beauty really is from within.  Clyde and Kira's dinner keeps being interrupted, once by a model talent scout (who is a bit sleazy to say the least), an overanxious restaurant hotess who wants to seat Kira where she can be seen in the "hot people" room, a busboy with a crush, a lusty chef, and weak-bladdered old woman.  Throughout their conversation, Clyde tells Kira that he thinks she is so beautiful, and he's just so "average looking", and Kira, who is not thinking, says, offhandedly, "Oh, baby, I don't mind that you're ugly."  At which point, the play takes a huge turn.  Will Clyde and Kira wind up together, or will insecurities dash their dreams.

I think a good number of people have insecurities.  I sure do.  I have been told that I am handsome, and, maybe 3 days out of 7,  I can sort of see that.  But the rest of the time, I do feel incredibly "average".  And what does that mean?  "Average".  For that matter, what does "Beautiful" mean?

In this play, beauty, ultimately comes from love even more than it does for appearances. 

I am fond of this play because for a simple, short, romantic comedy, it is not only funny, but, as I re-read it today, has genuine passion and human feeling.  Kira talking about the way she loves Clyde's smell, for example, or when she takes his face in her hands and calls him "My beautiful man", I almost wanted to cry, it effected me so much.  And no, I'm not tooing my own horn, I'm just so proud of a sweet moment such as that.

The writing of the playcame in June, 2009, and I read the first draft out loud with a dear friend of mine, who really encouraged me about it, and offered a few funny little changes that you can see in the play still today.  I wrote the first draft in a couple weeks, which is actually a little longer than a good number of one act first drafts take me.  I think I wanted to really be precise about the points of body image and self-esteem that I was trying to get across, and make sure I was still being funny at the same time.

I Don't Mind That You're Ugly was published by Brooklyn, and, so far, it has been the most produced play I have with them.  I have received wonderful feedback from schools all over the country who have enjoyed being in the show.  I remember seeing a YouTube video, a series of interviews from high school students about parts they were playing in an evening of one-acts, and it was cool to hear how they interpreted the characters in I Don't Mind That You're Ugly.

I am proud of this play, and proud of the feelings that inspired it.  I think, in this case, I really accomplished what I set out to accomplish, and that makes me very happy.  In fact, a writer can't ask for more than that.

Thanks for tuning in to Theater is a Sport.  If you would like to learn more about me, you may follow these links:  www.brookpub.com, www.histage.com, www.playscripts.com, and www.hitplays.com and search for me, Bobby Keniston, and read about my plays and look at free samples.

UNTIL TOMORROW....

LYAFTF

And remember--- theater is  not only an art form, it is also a sport.