A Theatrical Restrospective of Michael Saltzman and Me - Picasso at the Lapin Agile

One of my best friends is leaving town. I've written about Michael Saltzman before, but in two weeks he'll be leaving DC for Los Angeles to pursue a career in film and television, and more importantly to start a new chapter of his life - away from his childhood home and the accumulated baggage that comes from trying to be an adult in the same place you were once a kid. Intellectually, I think that's fantastic, and maybe even necessary, but I'm really torn up about it. We threw a big goodbye party for him the other night and it was a surprisingly emotional experience for me. I don't cry a lot, but I did then. I'm going to miss him.

Mike is a really close friend of mine, way beyond just making theater. But he's also one of my closest artistic collaborators. We've done 13 shows together, more than me and anyone except Zach Fernebok. When I read shows, I think of Michael in them. When I decide I want produce or direct a show, it's because Michael will shine. He can take any character and find a world of honesty, humanity, and nuance inside them - whether pirates or hunchbacks or turtles or a talking stack of books. His versatility is unmatched, his talent is huge. More than anyone he's been my brother in process.

I can't imagine going forward making plays without him.

This is a look back at the 13 productions Michael and I have collaborated on so far - as Actor and Director, Playwright and Director, Producer and Director, Producer and Actor, Actor and Dramaturg, Actors together - every combination. A small tribute to an incredibly valuable partnership that is coming to a hopefully brief and temporary pause.

Each of these productions probably deserves a longer post or series of posts of their own, but in the interest of brevity (and anyone who reads this blog is laughing at that) I'm going to try to focus on my experiences working with Michael on each of these shows.

PICASSO AT THE LAPIN AGILE

There is a moment in Picasso at the Lapin Agile when several characters are reminiscing about what may have been, fantasizing briefly about their secret hopes and dreams that will remain forever unfulfilled. In our production, we turned that section into a song - a soft, breezy, gentle melody supported by Aaron Bliden's (as an unnamed Elvis) guitar, using his music to coax a group of strangers' secrets into the open. In the middle of it all was Michael Saltzman as Albert Einstein, singing with beautiful and upbeat clarity, anchoring the moment.

This was my first show with Michael after knowing each other for about a year or so. I was very excited to have him on board. He brought an intelligence to Einstein that wasn't stuffy or historic. I remember his good natured displeasure with having to rock a mustache for the better part of a month as a young Einstein. I remember his daily Jack Handy quotes at top of rehearsal check ins. I remember the wonder I felt when he, Picasso, and Elvis would stare at the sky and see the universe unfold.

But mostly I remember a song about Albert Einstein and the Kentuckymen, a secret dream put into melody and verse.

#194. Straight Up Crash A Party

I was at the Fringe tent last night with Aaron Bliden, making plans for lunch today. It was ten pm and the night was winding down, and drenched in sweat from the crushing humidity we were getting generally prepared to roll out within the hour. Instead we were approached by a very nice and attractive actress I had met briefly several times at auditions. She invited us to a cast party a few blocks away, worried it would be lame without a lot of people, and really wanted us to come. We asked if we could bring our crew and that was cool. She was really nice and I had apparently made a very good impression in our brief interactions on the audition circuit as she was singing my praises to Aaron, which was gratifying to hear. Plus, like I said, she was really pretty. We said maybe. I was down, cause I'm all about new adventures nowadays, and got Aaron and Jayme Bell to come with me. Me and the girl texted for a bit and an hour later we were on our way up the street.

Turned out that the party was across the street from four friends' cars so they decided to stop by a bit too. We knock on the door, expecting music and alcohol and people.

Instead the seven of us walk into an extremely nice apartment with No. One. There.

There were two late thirties to early forties women who had NO idea who we were or what we were doing there and were obviously EXTREMELY uncomfortable with us being there. Two actors I knew were in the back, stoned or drunk or both. A bowl was on the table. The girl I knew (who genuinely is lovely and a lot of fun to hang out with) came out of the bathroom.

This was obviously NOT a party at all, but a very intimate group of people trying to hang out and smoke up that we had just totally crashed. And who by and large were not thrilled about it.

The vibe was brilliantly awkward. It was AMAZING. We sat silently on really nice couches like children. Minutes later two other dudes showed up from the Fringe tent, also expecting a rager. One was from Turkey and couldn't speak English very well. He apologized for not knowing what was going on. We assured him no one knew more than him.

The girl was trying super hard to make sure everyone was having fun, but as I would learn later was schwasted. She kept insisting I try a drink of this weird looking glass on the table. I declined, opting for water instead. She passed me her bottled water and it was NOT water. I have never been slipped a drink before, and only half jokingly told Jayme that if I started acting loopy in fifteen minutes not to leave me alone. One of the other guys was convinced to try the weird glass only for one of the women to ask rather sternly what he was doing drinking her drink. When she took it from his dumbfounded hands and tried it, she discovered it was now spiked and no longer wanted it.

Then one of the women brought out name tags and forced us all to wear them. No seriously. Name tags. Like a birthday party. She also scolded me for accidentally placing mine on my leg, I guess near my crotch. It felt just like hanging out in someone's mom's living room, only weirder. The other four quickly left leaving me, Aaron, and Jayme and these two dudes. Then A&J left, and there were pigs and blankets and Tina Turner and I realized that I was now in charge of getting my new friend home safely - which was it's own adventure.

To share part of a text message from Jayme after he left, that I think sums up the vibe better than any description -

"I would not want to stick around there if you want to keep your organs."

Best night in awhile, no joke. And this was only half of it.

Ridiculous.