Monday, August 24, 2009

Spaulding Gray!
Probably to this day I can start a line from a Spaulding Gray monologue and one of my kids can finish it. His words have become part of the Johnson family lexicon. He was a writer, storyteller, playwright, self observer, actor and stage performance artist. He virtually created the minimalistic performance style single handed.

He acted in several movies and in many stage plays including the movie "The Killing Fields" and starred as the Stage Manager in the revival of "Our Town" at Lincoln Center. But it was his monologues that set him apart.

He wasn't a stand up comic, in fact his performances were staged with him sitting behind a table which held a hand written spiral notebook, a single glass of water and a desk microphone. He generally wore a long sleeve collared shirt, usually plaid, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. One of his monologues "Swimming to Cambodia" (which was a monologue about filming the movie "Killing Fields") was filmed and released to theatres in 1987.

I read some of his books, but loved listening to recordings of his monologues the most. They were stories about his life in greater detail that even truthfulness and honesty should allow. He would admit to everything he did, good and bad. It was that honesty that drew me to him. As a writer and storyteller myself I know in my heart I could never be that open nor honest, but I related to his journey in a very personal way.

When we were buying our current house in 1994 I listened to his monologue titled "Terrors of Pleasure" every day for three months. It was his story about buying his first house and his dealings with sellers and repairmen. I laughed and related to his struggles, which seemed to mirror mine. I can almost perform that monologue I have heard it so many times.

He had a Christian Science background, so did I. He was dyslexic, so am I and he dealt as an outsider to show the show biz circus, very much as I do. I have a short book he wrote called "In Search of the Monkey Woman". It is about a carnival trick/exhibit/show that profoundly affected me when I saw it as a kid. His fascination and detailed account of the inside story to the illusion was like experiencing it all again. I only got to see him in person twice because by the time I would hear about his performances in Los Angeles all would be totally sold out.

I sat across the aisle from him at the New York premier of "Man in the Iron Mask". I spent the entire movie trying to figure out the best way to approach him and tell him I was a fan. He left quickly at the end and I missed being able to meet him. Like searching for Big Foot there were rumors of Spaulding sitings at the party afterwards, but I never connected.

In a typical Spaulding Gray monologue you would go from laughter to tears at the turn of his phrase. One of the themes that crept into most of his work was the suicide death at 50 years old of his devoutly Christian Scientist mother. He talked a lot about the impact it had on the family, and the mess that was left for those still alive to clean up. It was not just the physical mess but the emotional and psychological mess that affected him the most. As his own 50th birthday approached he wondered aloud if he would face the same demons that would drive him to suicide like his mother.

He faced a challenge of going blind in one eye. His struggle to balance a Christian Science approach with medical treatment became a monologue entitled , "Gray's Anatomy" which was also filmed. Like so many of the public details of his life he seemed to have worked it out, at least on stage, and come to peace with the demons. He passed his 50th birthday with out incident and continued his open personal struggle into his sixties.

A month or so before my show opened off Broadway Spaulding Gray disappeared from the streets of New York. It was not the top story to most of the world but it was to me. For days they did not know where he was and mystery surrounded his whereabouts. He had trips planned to a ski resort, and family plans with his small kids. In fact that day he had taken them to see a movie. It was not unusual for him to take some time off and be by himself, but after a week or so with no word to his wife and kids, hope of finding him became bleak. Then one day, his body washed ashore in Manhattan. As the investigation proceeded it was determined that he had committed suicide by jumping off the Staten Island Ferry.

I have not been able to listen to one of his monologues since. I tried but can't get through 5 minutes even though that voice and New England accent have always been comforting to me. There are three CD's of his monologues within and arms length of my keyboard right now. I haven't touched them in years. I guess it is because I have lost faith in his process. I believed that the honesty and truth about his feelings were somehow a therapy session for both of us. The talking cure. Put it out there in the light and we can deal with the pain and the problems. Add some humor to make it seem less oppressive and we all get better. Even after all the talk about what suicide does to the people left behind, he jumped of the Ferry and killed himself. It didn't work, he did not exorcise his demons he merely pointed them out.

As my age catches up to his, I think about him a lot. I miss him. When he was at his best, I wanted to be like him. But now I question that desire wondering if his process eventually lead the demons right to his own door. I have toyed with the idea of doing a show about him, looking back, in his monologist style, being as honest and open about his death as he was about his life. I don't think that will happen, I couldn't get through the prep of listening to his monologues again.

I don't know why he came to mind this morning. Don't know why I thought I needed to share.
Perhaps I'm trying to "talk out" my feelings like he attempted to do. Hopefully with greater results.
As you were,
Jay

2 comments:

Linda said...

The creative mind... something I've tried to decipher for years. What is the difference between those who lead a "normal" life and those drawn to the limelight?

The only thing that makes sense to me is the creative types that seek to perform on stage or through the written word have a depth of emotion and understanding that many choose to ignore. They see the big picture as well as all the details and are able to make sense of it by "showing" others.

Perhaps it becomes overwhelming... to the point they can't make sense of it anymore and are carried away by impulse...

Dave Robison said...

I own a copy of Swimming To Cambodia and have watched it countless times, even after Spaulding's death. Occaisonally I look for a copy of "Monster In A Box" online but never can find a copy I can afford.

I was dissapointed when he died, because unlike other entertainers, his death received scant attention in the press and I always thought he deserved more. It was more "a recluse obscure actor dies" sort of coverage. Twice, the sad.

In the stand up comedy realm, I think Christopher Titus comes close to mimicking Gray's style; with Titus' honest comedy and insight into the performer's personal life. I often try to bring some of that into my own act.

Thanks for reminding me about Spaulding, but unlike you--I might pull that copy of "Swimming" off the shelf and have another look this weekend.

Dave