Welcome!/ The Six Degrees Guide To The 80's

Welcome!

After sitting out most of the web log decade, I've given in and started this blog. Why? Well, it's this community, by which I mean the Reality Sandwich community who will be the initial folks participating in Evolver...compare the level of discourse on RS with the typical message boards anywhere else on the net and you'll see what I mean. I am excited that Evolver will bring even more amazing people into the mix.

I'm currently in San Diego, CA appearing in John Guare's Six Degrees Of Separation at The Old Globe.

I'm playing Geoffrey, a rich, liberal South African visiting New York who always needs to be taken out to dinner when he's in town because he can't bring cash out of his country. It's set at the end of the 80's, so it's late period Apartheid. The fun in playing this character, who only appears in the first 30 minutes of the play, is portraying absolute lack of cultural references, partially due to the cultural embargo. This guy has never heard of Holden Caulfield, and is amazed that T.S. Eliot had anything to do with a Broadway musical called "Cats"

"Six Degrees" has aged in an interesting way. The play, which premiered in 1990, is based on the case of David Hampton, a middle class black kid from Buffalo, NY who scammed various rich, liberal New Yorkers in the 80's by pretending to be the son of Sidney Poitier. The main character is the wife of an Upper East Side art dealer, who becomes deeply attached to the young man, even after discovering the ruse. The David Hampton character, here named Paul (and played in this production by a pretty impressive young actor named Samuel Strickland), is a very brilliant, mostly benign sociopath who doesn't seem to understand the havoc he causes...until a young Mormon kid he seduces and scams commits suicide. Almost twenty years later, with an African-American in the White House, it would seem that the racial dissonances expressed in this play would be outdated. Are they?

David Hampton's Mug Shot

The play has always been very popular and effective with typical theater audiences, because it focuses on the guilty feelings and existential crises of wealthy, artistic, somewhat liberal matrons and their husbands...the demographic that makes up 80% or more of folks attending the larger theaters. But performing the play, and watching and listening to it in rehearsal and performance, I have much greater respect for it then I did before. Not only a incisive examination of social and racial attitudes, written in a brilliant torpedo like style exploring a dozen layers of New York society in 90 intermission-less minutes, Six Degrees is a profound play about memory and spiritual integration.

In the final scene, Ouisia (Karen Ziemba) and her husband Flan (Thomas Jay Ryan) are having a drag out fight because he can't fathom why the sociopathic Paul means so much to her.

OUISA: ...we turn him into an anecdote to dine out on. Or dine in on. But it was an experience. I will not turn him into an anecdote. How do we fit what happened to us into life without turning it into an anecdote with no teeth and a punch line you'll mouth over and over years to come. 'Tell the story about the impostor who came into our lives-' 'That reminds me of the time this boy—' . And we become these human juke boxes spilling out these anecdotes. But it was an experience. How do we keep the experience?

How do we? I don't know about you, but I personally have significant chunks of my own life that I have no idea what to do with. I've tried lots of things. I even went on a Chopra Center retreat to try to deal with my mother's death, which still haunts me more than twenty years later. It helped, but not totally. I still have trouble watching her films, which is a real problem.  And that's just one example.

The character of Paul becomes the Trickster, the Coyote, leading us into the realms where true experience speaks. In a dream sequence, he becomes the avatar of the imagination:

PAUL: The imagination. That's our out. Our imagination teaches us our limits and then how to grow beyond those limits. The imagination says Listen to me. I am your darkest voice. I am your 4 a.m. voice. I am the voice that wakes you up and says this is what I'm afraid of. Do not listen to me at your peril. The imagination is the noon voice that sees clearly and says yes, this is what I want for my life. It's there to sort out your nightmare, to show you the exit from the maze of your nightmare, to transform the nightmare into dreams that become your bedrock. If we don't listen to that voice, it dies. It shrivels. It vanishes.  (Paul takes out a switchblade and opens it.) The imagination is not our escape. On the contrary, the imagination is the place we are all trying to get to.

The Old Globe

Performing Six Degrees at The Old Globe in San Diego is a fascinating experience because of the conservative demographic down here. After all it's a massively military border town. Like the original New York audiences, the San Diego cultural Brahmins deeply identify with Ousia & Flan, the white protagonists. But they are much more contemptuous of the characters supposed liberalism. In a key late scene in the play, when Ouisa is having a deeply emotional confrontation with Paul on the phone, she tells him very sincerely "we love you". Her declaration is often met with derisive laughter from this audience.

They think she is a fool, a bleeding heart liberal fool who will always be taken in by a slick black charlatan. But the question no one wants to ask is, do they think Barack Obama is like Paul? A brilliant, smooth talking con artist? I wonder.

Total Eclipse Of The Heart

The Director of Six Degrees, a terrific young director named Trip Cullman, had the cool idea to frame the play with selections from 80's pop music. One thinks of the play and imagines prissy string quartets, but Trip starts things off with the jackhammer thump of New Order's Blue Monday and ends with Sonic Youth's transcendent Teenage Riot. In between are sound bites from Depeche Mode, The Pixies, and The Smiths' How Soon Is Now? (the title of which seems like a perfect expression of the deeper themes of the play).

Trip declared that the 80's was the best decade ever for music. Despite our shared love for the artists he references in the play, I take exception to this. But it reveals a generational difference between us. The 80's was the decade of Trip's childhood. Such an identification is it's own context, too powerful to be denied.

I had a 70's childhood ruled by Classic Rock, Funk, Soul & Punk. The 80's will always be defined for me by the shooting of John Lennon, the election and re-election of Ronald Reagan, the rise of the Yuppie, and the death of the Sixties idealism I had been raised with. The difference between the David Bowie of Scary Monsters and the David Bowie of Let's Dance says it all for me about 80's music.

Before

After

But Trip's statement threw down a gauntlet, and I gave myself the assignment of creating a CD mix for the cast as an opening night present which would choose appropriate 80's theme songs for each character in the play. The songs are listed in order of the character's order of appearance, with two bonus tracks i'll get to later.

I tried to balance name recognition with music i actually like, which I managed 90% of the time. A crazy trip down memory lane. My only regrets...not getting Def Leppard or Public Enemy into the mix.

For Ouisa, the matron whose life is torn asunder by Paul, Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse Of The Heart seemed an obvious choice. When Bonnie sings "Turn around Bright Eyes", I like to think that Ouisa's singing to Paul. For Flan, the art dealer, my choice was True Colors by Cyndi Lauper, a song I thought I hated but actually sounds pretty good to me now. Flan is obsessed with color in painting, and I also like to think of him singing this song to Ouisa, trying to reconcile with her after their happiness is ruined by the events of the play. For my character, Geoffrey, I chose Fool's Gold by The Stone Roses. He's in the gold mining business, so it's an obvious choice. I also like the lines "I'm standing alone, I'm watching you all" because that's what Geoffrey does. Trying to read his responses is a big part of the opening scene, when a stabbed Paul bursts into the apartment while we are having cocktails. Plus, I wanted a song I could actually enjoy dancing to.

I chose De La Soul's Me Myself & I for Paul, because I wanted to celebrate his multiplicity rather than judging him so harshly. The part of The Doorman who brings stabbed Paul into the apartment is played by an actor who also plays a Cop and a Detective, and he is always changing into these cool uniforms. Hence, Gang Of Four, I Love A Man In A Uniform. At this point, I've got three songs in a row I can really dance to. Next up is the naked Hustler who Paul sneaks into the guest bedroom, who gets Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. I'm still dancing, though it's a guilty pleasure.

Next up are Kitty and Larkin, another couple taken in by Paul. Part of Paul's ruse is offering people roles as extras in the movie version of the musical Cats, which Sidney Poitier is supposedly directing. The Love Cats by The Cure expresses Kitty's delight at this, and perhaps the thought that she and Paul can be love cats together, frolicking through the city. Larkin franticly, and ultimately unsuccessfully, tries to shield himself from exposure to life's dark side. He reminds me of the guy in 'Til Tuesday's Voices Carry who keeps saying "Hush Hush".

Next up, the children of the two couples, who hold the key to the mystery of Paul. They enter with a wave of noisy complaint, so it's time to rock things up. Jane's Addiction's Mountain Song for Tess, "one of many children" who wants to defy her parents by climbing mountains in Afghanistan. The Holiday Song by The Pixies for Ben, depicting a blistering parent child encounter. And in a more sensitive vein, Hairshirt by R.E.M., for Woody. His parents gave away his favorite pink shirt to the interloper, which strikes Woody as a deeply wounding betrayal.

Doctor Fine is an Obstetrician who gives his house keys to Paul, trying to score points with his estranged son whom he believes is Paul's classmate. Doctor! Doctor! by The Thompson Twins exemplifies everything I despise about 80's music, but it's thematically perfect and after all, I don't want this mix to be a whitewash. in contrast, his son Doug gets one of my favorite 80's songs, Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths. Doug's invective against his father reaches vicious Morrisey-esque highs, and he wears a walkman to boot. Trent, the misfit classmates of the other four children, who gives Paul his address book and teaches the nuts and bolts of the scam, gets Kiss by Prince. Trent is a little like Henry Higgens, discovering Paul in a doorway in Boston. I can picture him singing to Paul "you don't have to be rich to be my girl" and "leave it all up to me, my love" as he remakes Paul into the perfect Buppie.

Last among the characters in the play, we get Rick & Elisabeth, nice kids from Utah trying to break into acting in The Big City. Rick goes from dancing with Paul at The Rainbow Room and sex with him in a Central Park Carriage to suicidal despair in a single evening, as he realizes he's betrayed Elisabeth and enabled Paul to steal their savings. Never Let Me Down by Depeche Mode seems a fitting portrait of the excitement and danger of his fatal, final night. Elisabeth's hippie skirt reminded me of Kate Bush, and her song Get Out Of My House feels like a powerful exorcism, as Elisabeth drives out the interloper who came so close to her heart and caused so much catastrophe.

I also included three bonus tracks. Many people who were scammed by David Hampton, the original con-artist Paul is based upon, found him so charming that they still desired him despite everything. In Reel Around The Fountain by The Smith, I can picture them thinking of David with "15 Minutes with You, Oh- I wouldn't say no."

And finally, there is the issue of Balto.

Balto

Balto is the famous Alaskan Husky whose statue is in Central Park. Paul's fake mugging happens next to the statue. Later in the play, a scene is set in Central Park, and Trip thought it would be cool if we saw Balto. The scene shop built an amazing, full scale model of the statue, and it was wheeled onstage for the technical rehearsal. But it didn't work. It really clashed with the scenic concept, and felt like a total non sequitur. Balto was cut from the show.

Feeling sad about Balto, I decided to honor him with one of my favorite songs of all time, Leave Me Alone by New Order.  I pictured him as an exiled prince, judging us for banishing him:

From my head to my toes
To my teeth, through my nose
You get these words wrong
You get these words wrong
Everytime
You get these words wrong
I just smile

But from my head to my toes
From my knees to my eyes
Everytime I watch the sky
For these last few days leave me alone
But for these last few days leave me alone
Leave me alone
Leave me alone

But listening to Power Corruption And Lies, I realized that another song on the album arguably suited the Balto statue better, albeit in a more contemptuous way...Your Silent Face:

A thought that never changes
Remains a stupid lie
It's never been quite the same
No hearing or breathing
No movement, no colors
Just silence

The sign that leads the way
The path we can not take
You've caught me at a bad time
So why don't you piss off

In the end I couldn't choose, although ultimately, as a song, Leave Me Alone is something I don't think I could live without.

So I asked people to choose which song they wanted based on how they felt about Balto. I made two different versions of the mix, one labeled You Judge Balto containing Your Silent Face, the other labled Balto Judges You, containing Leave Me Alone.

In the end, more people chose to be judged than stand in judgement, but by a surprisingly small margin, given peoples natural inclination towards sentimentality. One nice surprise: after judging Balto unfit to be in the play, Trip chose the Balto Judges You mix. This is a man who understands that turnabout is fair play.