November 20, 2007

First rehearsal of the Art Center Christmas Show, Christmas on Broadway, last night. Chris under-presented the part I was to play. I feel harried–again–and a little out of my depth, but when I considered it, it seemed yet more fun than nuisance, so I’ve decided to go ahead. T’s being the music director is problematic. He tells me to sing radically differently from what I’ve spent the last three years learning from Paul, and though I concede Broadway is different from Mahler, it’s not beyond T to say things which will actually–though perhaps inadvertently--damage a person’s confidence. His discourse steers a path between flattery and snideness so inscrutable that one is never sure when or if one is hearing something useful and genuine in the middle. But, one plunges forward, looking, once again, at the calendar for the day when it will be all over.
Neither of us knew who “Ito” is in Mame, and he said, “Well you’re playing it, so I imagine he’s a buffoon.” Two minutes later he mentioned that Art said I was “by far the best actor ever to step onto the stage at HART,” with the hushed tones of an acolyte. Where does one find a path into such a disposition?

“Winter Birds,” the part of it now completed, premieres tonight at St. Bart’s in New York. Not especially heartbroken not to be there, what with the lights of Broadway dimmed and the weather here perfect.

Late night. Tonight’s rehearsal was chaos, but a rather pleasant one. One must admire Chris Lynn’s imperturbable patience, his systematic progress through situations which I don’t believe I could endure for a moment. He is doing valuable work at the Arts Center, giving kids a discipline, a skill, and an avocation. My guess is that he sleeps soundly at night.
Stopped at the Usual for drinks, greeted the people I know, thought that it is an odd life, all in all.