I’m bi. . . coastal.
Connecticut childhood; California adolescence; Oregon adulthood.
And I’m “that guy who drives” (as Ben Barnes put it one morning when we happened to sit next to each other in the café at the Plaza Hotel in Milwaukee). It’s in my blood; not to be denied.
I grew up in a small town close enough to New York City to experience its glories and opportunities with the fearlessness of a kid who didn’t know any better. My family and my friends’ families enjoyed Carnegie Hall concerts and Broadway shows, but we came home to a town still rural enough that locking the
door was never a
-
necessity.
I studied piano, took ballroom dance lessons, went ice skating and sledding in the winter, swam and chased fireflies in the summer, and first appeared on stage as a flower – really! -- in my second grade class’s production of The Nutcracker at Evangeline M. Post Elementary School. But life really began to change in the third or fourth grade when I got to go back stage and shake Amahl’s hand after attending a local theater’s production of Amahl and the Night Visitors.
A few years later, transplanted to the other side of the country, I saw my high school theater department’s production of You Can’t Take It With You on the same weekend I attended Gypsy, performed by a semi-professional theater company in Palo Alto. That was it. Hooked. Drama elective the next school year, roles in my first-ever school plays, my maiden voyage as playwright-director (“The Orphans Christmas,” performed in my garage by an unsuspecting group of kids who lived on the block). Few detours ever since.
I started directing almost as soon as I began acting; it just took some time to realize that it was behind rather than in front of the table where I felt most at home. I’ve taken directing classes, but it’s been in the observation and in the doing that I’ve acquired whatever craft I bring to the room. If I’m an artist -- well, I can only thank natural instinct, DNA, whatever gifts with which I have been endowed, and my love of a good story – along with the tempering that a life not without its ups and downs has provided.
Dick Cavett once asked Hal Prince how you become a director. Prince replied:
“You announce to the world that you’re a director, and then you get someone to hire you.” Or words to that effect. I’ve been lucky that people have hired me, and I’ve been fortunate to have great teachers and role models to emulate:
David Buck, Tom McKenzie, William Ball (and his entire San Francisco ACT company), Jerry Turner, Pat Patton, Peggy Rubin, Jim Edmondson. . . and I’ve been fortunate to have been able to practice my craft pretty steadily. Although I have a theatre degree – and studied directing as an undergraduate at California State University at Fullerton -- my training has been in the practice: as a high school drama teacher in Stockton, California, as Associate Artistic Director/Conservatory Director at PCPA Theaterfest, as Producing Director of the Great River Shakespeare Festival, and as a free-lancer traversing the country, blessed with a diverse, mostly non-stop array of assignments.
I’m not done yet. As we all know, we never really arrive – we just keep starting over, possibly until we keel over. And if we’re lucky, we get to keep growing. Long may it wave.