Hello world! How's your winter? Mine is long and strange, but times being what they are, that seems about right.
I'm excited to be joining a whole passel of worthies at the Brick for a little Chekhov therapy next month, sneaking in a little character work as the unpleasant and mercurial Solyony in Maggie Cino's production of Three Sisters. Looking forward to finally working with Maggie after years of admiring her work in various endeavors, and it goes without saying I can't wait to be reunited with Moira Stone (from last year's That Which Isn't) as well as Sarah Lippmann from last year's Hamlet. Other notables include the always-amazing Lynn Berg, and the elemental Clara Pagone. Huzzah!
It's a nice one. Read it here.
In addition to my ongoing labors at Elsinore (tickets still available!), I've begun rehearsals for That Which Isn't, the new play from the mighty Matthew Freeman, directed by Kyle Ancowitz and featuring Moira Stone and David DelGrosso (all under the watchful eye of stage manager Jodi Witherell, without whom we'd be lost, utterly).
Here's the blurb (I play Marcus):
Seeking neutral ground, Helen and James drive out of the city to an open field on a moonlit evening. From sunset to sunrise, they confront their past together and attempt to forge a possible future. Years later, Helen and Marcus meet for dinner in Los Angeles to discover if shared history constitutes common ground. In two spare acts, That Which Isn't explores the limits of forgiveness and the way we remember those we've left behind.
I've been a fan of the Freeman/Ancowitz/DelGrosso battery for some time now, and my history with Stone is long and fruitful. And, of course, I did a reading of an earlier draft of the play (with the same cast) at New Dramatists last year, so I already knew that this thing promised to be hilarious and heart-breaking in equal measure. What I was less prepared for was exactly how warm and collaborative and --yes-- fun an experience it would be to manifest what is, frankly, a most uncomfortable dinner with Moira's character.
If you're able, please consider supporting this production with your tax-deductible donation. And, please, get your tickets sooner rather than later - it's a fairly short run (August 11-20), and I don't think you'll want to miss it.
What a thrilling, adrenaline-pumping joy it was to open The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark this past weekend, in the "Shakespeare in the Theater" festival at The Brick, playing with the New Elizabethans of Loup Garou Internationale (only two shows left! tickets here!).
For those keeping score at home, this is the 4th production of this play I've worked on in one capacity or another (dating all the way back to 1993), and I'm struck anew at the seemingly-limitless depths of meaning that exist in this hoary old thing, just waiting to be plumbed. I'm also struck by the insights that have come flooding back to me during this process, from all of those productions, sometimes with startling specificity and clarity. A line-reading by Qarie Marshall or Anna Stromberg or Howard Thoresen or Monica Bueno; an incisive directorial slant by Matthew Gretzinger or John Henry Davis; a moment of visual beauty by Jeff Nash or Jane Stein. And so, so many others...
All that to say, I guess, that if you labored over one of those productions with me over the years, the play almost certainly revealed something of itself to me through your work, and you have probably been in my thoughts at some point over the last few weeks. Thank you.