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.
