Mrs. T and I saw the Sunday matinee of Satchmo at the Waldorf in Orlando, then joined the cast and crew for homemade gumbo. Today we’ll drive to the Orlando airport and go our (temporarily) separate ways, she to Connecticut and I to Washington, D.C., where I’ll be seeing the American premiere of Alan Bennett’s The Habit of Art on Tuesday. I hate to leave my own show behind, but duty calls, and at least I got to see the first four performances.
I’ve learned a lot in the past week and a half. Watching Rus Blackwell direct my play was an education in itself. I liked what he did so much that I’ve already written into the script several pieces of business that were devised by Rus. William Elliott, who designed the set and lighting, went to enormous trouble to create an evocative space that drew the audience in, and we had the supreme pleasure of working with a fabulous crew. Many, many thanks to Holly Bennett, Cindy Karr, and Jamie Mykins, who made all the rough places plain.
As for Dennis Neal, there aren’t enough words in the English language to describe what he did with the double role of Louis Armstrong and Joe Glaser. All I can say is that as I sat in the theater, I said to myself, “My God, he looks like Satchmo now—and they don’t even look alike!” The last time I saw an actor bring off so radical a transformation was when Frank Langella starred in the Broadway transfer of Frost/Nixon. Dennis is a true artist, and I’ve never been luckier in my life than when Rollins College brought us together in February to do the first public reading of Satchmo at the Waldorf.
Rus and Dennis cut a thousand words out of the play during the first week of rehearsals. I realized as soon as I got to Orlando that the script was much the better for having been tightened up so judiciously. I made some additional cuts of my own, and by the time we opened on Thursday, the pacing was right where I wanted it to be. It was fascinating to see how the audience’s response varied from night to night. The opening-night crowd laughed so loudly at the first act that they could have been watching Noises Off. On Friday, by contrast, the play was received with total seriousness and involvement, as if it were a deadly serious drama (which, of course, it is, the punch lines notwithstanding). Much to my delight, Dennis was quick to pick up the mood of the house each night and shape his performance accordingly. That’s professionalism.
Satchmo at the Waldorf runs through October 2. After that…well, who knows? Dennis and Rus want to produce it elsewhere, which would suit me right down to the ground. But no matter what happens in the future, I can say with pride that in addition to being a critic, biographer, and opera librettist, I’m now a full-fledged professional playwright. I went into the arena and came back in one piece. Like the song says, they can’t take that away from me!
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Here’s a lovely picture of Armstrong’s original All Stars, taken on stage in New Orleans in 1949:
Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City
