andrewsellon.com » Donald Grody

Looking Back at 2011

Andrew Sellon — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 17:33:01 +0000

I can certainly say that 2011 wasn’t dull. For one thing, The Smurfs movie came out. And even though only a few seconds of my one scene made it into the final cut of the film, that fleeting onscreen appearance was enough to make our 10-year-old nephew Nicholas very excited. Watching the film in 3D with Tim, Nicholas, and other family members was one of the highlights of the year for me. You can see a picture of us at the movie theatre in a prior post.

I also had the opportunity to perform in two productions this year that probably couldn’t have been more different from each other. I was hired to play Pastor Manders in an updated version of Ibsen’s classic melodrama, Ghosts, as the inaugural production of the Classic Play Series theatre company. Roles like that are one of the reasons I love acting. Pastor Manders represents many things that I personally abhor. He allows his devotion to rigid rules and social conventions to blind him to simple human truths and needs. And yet under pressure, in the end he is willing to compromise his high morals just to save his own skin. At first glance, not a very sympathetic character. I’ve only seen one production of the play, back in Boston when I was in high school. I remember feeling that Manders came across as too much of a villainous straw man serving Ibsen’s social commentary to be very convincing as a living, breathing person. I couldn’t see why Mrs. Alving would listen to him for a minute!

: With Antoinette LaVecchia in Ibsen’s “Ghosts”

So I thought it would be quite a challenge to create a believable Paster Manders who lives and thrives in 2011 while still honoring the character’s purpose in the script. And on revisiting Ibsen’s play, I found so much that simply didn’t come out in the production I saw–so much love for Mrs. Alving, in particular! It’s the relationship he secretly still wants but cannot ever acknowledge or consummate. I think Ibsen meant it as a true, deep love–the best part of Manders. That delicate balance was beautifully preserved in the modern adaptation of the script we used. As we worked, I found an enormous amount of love and good will in Manders, and director Emmy Frank enthusiastically encouraged me to go with this more textured approach. I used that to inhabit him and embrace his goals for the duration of the story. The result was very satisfying. His attempts to do the right thing were still spectacularly misguided, he still made the same horrible choices, and he still ruined people’s lives by not following his heart. But I feel like I made him more credible as someone Mrs. Alving might actually love, admire, and turn to for guidance. It was one of those classic “walk a mile in the other man’s shoes” experiences that makes acting such a rewarding ongoing journey of discovery.

: With 39 Steps cast members Joe Foust, Christian Pedersen, and Beth Hylton

And then later in 2011 I had the joy of being cast as one of the two multi-role Clowns in The 39 Steps for the Maltz Jupiter Theatre in Jupiter, Florida. The first day, Artistic Director Andrew Kato introduced the entire staff and said they were all there to help us–and he meant it. And the story onstage was even better. We laughed ourselves silly through the all-too-brief rehearsal period, and prided ourselves on getting through the run with no broken bones, despite the high-speed antics during every performance. It may rank as the most physically exhausting show I’ve done so far in my career, but it sure was a blast. And come on–what actor could wouldn’t jump at the chance to play a mix of characters including a naughty Cockney milkman, a sex-starved Scotswoman, and a ruthless (and of course totally bonkers) Nazi villain. At last, someone let me play the bad guy! Thank you, Peter Amster and Andrew Kato, for a terrific experience. You can see a gallery of great photos and read the reviews by clicking the image, or by clicking here.

The year wasn’t all theatre magic, of course. My dear friend, the very fine actor Donald Grody, finally lost his long battle with prostate cancer. We had done two productions of King Lear together and I hoped to do other shows with him as well. And he was a good friend and true mentor offstage. I’m so grateful to have had him in my life for the last few years. If you want to know more about Donald, I wrote a post about him earlier this year. Donald was not a man to brag, but every professional actor out there owes him a deep debt of gratitude for all he accomplished when he was Executive Director of Actors Equity; it’s a remarkable list of very important achievements that continue to benefit union actors to this day. And November marked a year since my father’s passing. Some years ago, I wrote a lyric that in one verse anticipated losing him eventually, and says simply “I still think of him every day.” Sure enough, I do. And his passing makes me think of my late mother a lot more, too. Grace to them both.

And then there were all the shows Tim and I went to see! Gosh, too many to list at this point. We very much enjoyed The Book of Mormon–and I was amused to discover that it’s basically a very traditional, almost retro book musical that happens to have a potty mouth. We also quite liked the revival of Follies. And the list goes on and on. But perhaps the one production that stands out most in my mind is Sleep No More–the immersive, subversive gothic dance/theatre event loosely based on Shakespeare’s Macbeth, with a bit of Hitchcock’s Rebecca thrown in for good measure. I had never gone to an immersive theatre piece for the same reason I generally avoid stand-up comics: fear that the material just won’t work. Well, Sleep No More works like gangbusters. I went with my old hometown friend Liz Law, and when we compared notes breathlessly at the end of the three hours, we found we’d seen almost entirely different events! The cast is almost silent, but speaks eloquently through the sometimes alluring, sometimes bruising, always compelling choreography. The set decor is enormously decadent and spooky, and there’s five floors of it to explore. There is nudity, violence, blood, smoke, strobe light, and a lot of spooky film noir-ish music. It’s definitely an evening about sex and death. And then some. And definitely not for anyone under 18. I went a second time and had the pleasure of seeing some scenes again with the other cast (they are equally wonderful), and exploring some new characters and scenes as well–including a couple of one-on-one encounters that were really mind-blowing. In one, I found myself locked into a hut having tea with an ominous, fortune-telling nurse. In another, I was pulled into a silent scene with a “drunken” charactor who wanted my help–and I had to figure out what he needed quickly and without words. The whole sequence lasted probably about 5 minutes, overseen by a silent group of other masked visitors like myself, so it was simultaneously public and suprisingly intimate. It was magical. The first time I went, I was strictly one of the many silent observers; I was definitely rewarded for taking more chances the second time around. I fully intend to see SNM at least once more. If you go, follow these tips: 1) Dress very comfortably, and wear sneakers, 2) Don’t bring any bags/purses unless you’re prepared to pay to check them, 3) Be prepared to run (sometimes very fast) up and down warehouse stairwells and dark hallways in pursuit of characters whose lives capture your interest, and 4) If an impulse to explore grabs you–follow it! As the elevator operator announces before sending everyone out into the dimly-lit playing area: Fortune favors the bold. You can read more and buy tickets by clicking the image or by clicking here.

So, I don’t know what’s in store for 2012 yet, but I certainly have my to-do list of roles I want to play (and some I’d love to revisit). Tim and I are drawing up a list of places we want to go; I loved my first trip (ever) to San Francisco this year, especially as it was for our niece Rachel’s wedding in May. Then we had our niece Kerry’s wedding in October, and shortly after that, our nephew Matt announced his engagement. And of course, same-sex marriage was FINALLY approved in New York State in 2011, so Tim and I are looking into getting married in 2012–after more than 18 years together. I’m gearing up to make the new year full of exciting new adventures onstage and off. I don’t know about you, but I plan to be bold!

Happy New Year.

A Lear Review on Free Shakespeare Site

Andrew Sellon — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 17:53:55 +0000

I just came across a very interesting site called playshakespeare.com, which is a free resource offering online texts of all of William Shakespeare’s plays, as well as reviews of theatrical productions, an online community, research materials, the inevitable Bard-related shopping, and more. It’s an ambitious site, so it’s going to take me a while to look through it, but I certainly suggest you check it out for yourself (unless you’ve already beaten me to it, which is entirely possible!).

To my surprise, I found a review of the 2009 NY Classical Theatre production of King Lear that we performed in Central Park and Battery Park. The reviewer, Roseanne Wells, has lovely things to say about my dear friend Donald Grody as the tragic king, and she also gives a beautiful summation of the Fool and what I was doing with the role:

“Acting as a nursemaid and scolding schoolteacher, the Fool (Andrew Sellon) doles out tonics to calm Lear while chastising him through humor and logic, the only way to avoid offending him. Sellon also infuses genuine concern for Lear, worrying about his physical and mental health, desperate to keep him from harm; he is a fool by trade, a caregiver by loyalty and love.”

I think that puts it beautifully. To my knowledge, this is the only actual review of that production. You can read the full review by clicking here. If you ever come across another one somewhere, please send me the link!

You can visit PlayShakespeare.com by clicking the image on this post. I noticed that they also have a link to an iPhone app; there’s a $9.99 “Pro” version and a free version. I’ve downloaded the free one to start with, and will do another post if the app is really neat.

Exit the King–Remembering Actor Donald Grody

Andrew Sellon — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 18:10:39 +0000

King Lear at Vermont Stage Company

One evening last week, I went to refill a small portable bottle of non-aspirin pain reliever pills that I keep in my audition bag. I opened both the jumbo Costco-sized bottle and the little travel size bottle, and filled the little one with pills from the big one. I replaced the lid on the large bottle, then found myself unable to account for the whereabouts of the lid to the little bottle. I looked everywhere. And then, finally, I looked in a totally insane place: inside the large bottle. Sure enough, it was there. I could account for this mental lapse by pointing to my advancing years, but in truth I think the moment I found the little lid inside the big bottle was the moment I realized my dear friend Donald Grody was gone. The time was out of joint, and the universe was just slightly off now somehow.

The e-mail that afternoon from his wonderful wife, Judith Anderson, had been short and loving. The subject line was simply “Donald” and I knew the contents before I opened the message. I read it over the phone to my partner, Tim, and neither of us knew what to say. Donald had been in the final stage of a long and valiant battle with prostate cancer, so the news was not entirely surprising. I didn’t really have a chance to process the loss that afternoon, as I had to run into the city almost immediately after receiving the note to play Pastor Manders in a performance of Ibsen’s Ghosts. I didn’t tell anyone at the show about Donald; I just whispered something to Donald and Judith privately before making my first entrance. The four of us had been trying to get together for dinner for many weeks, with one thing or another making it not a good time, and now there would be no good time. But Judith’s note assured us that he passed away peacefully in her arms, as they had both wanted. And what actor could ask for a better exit?

There are so many things you should know about Donald, but in all fairness, I didn’t know him long enough to be the one to tell you. He told me great stories about working with Judy Holliday and Ethel Merman, among many others. At one point, he served as Executive Director of our union, Actors Equity Association. In fact, that’s where he met Judith! He was a family man. There’s just so much. I’m hoping that others will chime in with their memories as well. Together, we could write a book. I can tell you this much from my own experience: While in his 80′s he played King Lear. In two productions. And speaking as his Fool in both productions, I can tell you that he was wonderful.

King Lear at Vermont Stage Company

I first met Donald through my friend Mark Nash, who was at the time the Artistic Director of Vermont Stage Company. I knew he was doing King Lear as the company’s first full-scale Shakespeare production, and I had always wanted to play the Fool. Although Mark was directing the production, and had directed me many times before, he said the final casting vote in this case would have to come from the actor playing the tragic king: a man named Donald Grody. I remember thinking: “Oh, dear–I have to impress another actor in order to get this job!” I also wondered how much of an auteur this fellow might be!

I needn’t have worried. I was invited to Donald and Judith’s west side apartment to participate in an informal read-through of the edited script Donald had been working on for many months. Both Donald and Judith made me feel welcome and at my ease immediately; it was impossible not to have a great time in their company. The reading seemed to go very well, and I liked Donald’s editing work–very smart and economical, without sacrificing the poetry or the passion. And besides that, both Donald and Judith were a lot of fun to be around.

Immediately thereafter, I was hired as Donald/Lear’s Fool, and as it turned out, I ended up sharing a dressing room with him for the production. All the other male actors had been put together in one large room converted for the occasion, and the three women shared the other private dressing room. Mark was unsure how Donald, the undisputed star of this production, would feel about sharing his dressing room. But he wanted me to be there in part to make sure that Donald would feel well attended. And who better than the Fool to attend his king? Plus, we were the two out-of-town guest artists. Donald never displayed any umbrage at not having his own dressing room. In fact, quite the contrary; he was a delightful “roommate,” and a hoot. In our first stint together in the dressing room, Donald revealed a habit of singing snippets of old popular standards (he had a beautiful voice and was in many Broadway musicals). To his amazement, when he ended the first phrase of one Depression-era song, I picked up and provided the next line. He was tickled pink that I shared his deep love of well-crafted vintage songs. Throughout the run, we sang to and with each other in any odd moments we shared in our little dressing room, harmonizing at will and feeling very pleased with ourselves. We couldn’t have had more fun. Our castle may have been small, but he was undeniably the king, and I was happy to be his attendant and cohort. It was during one of those relaxed sessions that he told me he was grappling with prostate cancer. He thought he had beaten it some years back, but it had made a return and seemed intent on staying around this time. He mentioned it with a simple matter-of-factness that I admired greatly. He seemed to harbor neither illusion nor fear. He just got on with things.

King Lear at New York Classical Theatre, Central Park

Rehearsals were challenging, but ultimately rewarding. Donald understandably felt protective of his version of the script, and of the production he was carrying, but he remained open to those little moment-to-moment surprises actors love to discover, and together we discovered a great many. I looked forward to our time together onstage each night, because I knew we were going to take each other on an exciting and very personal journey, with the audience tagging along just a few feet away. In our production, the Fool was loyal to Lear to the death, and it made perfect sense to me. In fact, Mark had me double as the physician in the latter half of the play, in an all-white version of my Fool’s costume, so that my “spirit” could continue to watch over Lear. I realized over the course of our time in Burlington that I was on some level becoming Donald’s Fool offstage as well, and I couldn’t have been happier. Donald was becoming a real friend, and also a mentor. He couldn’t believe I didn’t have an agent, and was resolved to do something about that when we returned to New York. Heaven knows, no one else had ever taken such a generous interest in me, with no expectation of anything in return. He just believed I was talented and should be working all the time. He was like that. For my part, I was more than happy to swear my allegiance to this kind (and yes, regal) soul, regardless of anything that might or might not come later. I had found a new and remarkable friend.

The critical and audience response to the production, and particularly Donald’s towering performance, was fantastic. The run sold out, and the time we spent performing together in Burlington was sublime. His wife Judith (about whom he was always speaking: “Oh, wait’ll Jude hears this…!”) and my partner Tim arrived to join the fun, and we all had a great time in Burlington. I remember in particular one evening we dined together at a highly-regarded Asian restaurant called A Single Pebble. When we were seated, the owner came by our table. It turned out she had already seen the production, and had been very moved by Lear and his Fool. She advised on our dinner order herself, sent little treats along the way while we waited for the food, and at the end of the meal, surprised us with some lovely desserts, gratis. Donald and I didn’t say anything in particular to each other, though of course we thanked our host profusely. But he didn’t need to say anything. I knew we were both deeply gratified that someone out there had seen our work, and had been sufficiently affected by it that she wanted to let us know. He was quiet, but beaming. It may seem like a little gesture to some, but to us it was extraordinary. I think we were both simultaneously humbled and proud, and I was so glad to share that moment with him and with the two people we loved most in the world. Attention was paid, to paraphrase Arthur Miller.

King Lear at New York Classical Theatre, Central Park

Donald and I went on to do a second production of Lear together the following year, this time for New York Classical Theatre here in New York City. You can see a few additional pictures from it on the rotating banner at the top of this site. The rest of the cast was different, but again it was a wonderful experience–despite the many challenges of performing outdoors on the run in both Central Park and Battery Park over the course of two long, hot (and often rainy) summer months. Remember, Donald was in his 80′s, the age Lear was actually supposed to be! He always seemed to have so much energy, and in moving from location to location, often I found myself needing to keep up with him. While he was a very bright man (did I mention he was also a lawyer?), and didn’t tolerate nonsense for a moment, Donald still approached each new encounter with the innocence and frankness of a child; I saw that in every rehearsal and every performance without exception. I’m glad he got to do his Lear here in New York. I wish he could have done it somewhere indoors for an extended run so that even more people could have seen it. I’ve seen a lot of Lears over the years, including Derek Jacobi’s admirable recent turn. Donald was not a household name, but he stood among them, and bettered many of them. And by the way, Donald did introduce me to his agent, Renée Glicker, of About Artists Agency. I think we bonded because of our mutual fondness for Donald; she trusted his judgment. I began freelancing with her, she came to see us in Lear, and in due course I ended up signing with her. All because I read for a man named Donald Grody in his living room one evening and he took an interest in my career.

Donald and Judith were only able to make it up to our house in Yonkers once together, but it was a lovely summertime visit, and all four of us enjoyed just hanging out on the deck, sipping iced tea and swapping theatrical tales as the lazy day waxed and waned. By then, they had bought a little pied-a-terre in Puerto Rico, and Donald enthusiastically extolled the virtues of the fresh tropical fruits he consumed there every day, insisting they were helping him fight off the prostate cancer better than many of the medicines he was regularly asked to try.

I went to see Donald as Dogberry in New York Classical’s production of Much Ado About Nothing the following summer. He was adorable; so childlike in his innocence and delight that audience members young and old loved him immediately. After that, his health issues began to take up more of his time and energy, and getting together became difficult. But we were still planning another visit right up to the end, and that’s at the heart of who Donald was. He didn’t kid himself or anyone else, but he didn’t give up, either. He faced each new day and each new challenge, well, like a king. And Judith, endlessly patient, resourceful, and devoted, was at his side every step of the way, every inch the queen.

Shakespeare of course didn’t include the Fool at the end of King Lear, but every night of both productions I watched from the wings as Donald died, and the actor playing Kent pronounced “Break, heart; I prithee, break!” as he held the fallen king in his arms. I feel like Kent now. Because this time, of course, there will be no curtain call, no songs in the dressing room, no additional performance.

I will miss you, Donald, but I will also cherish the memories of our time together onstage and off. And I will celebrate your life every time I step onstage. Farewell, my friend.

The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

May 2009

Andrew Sellon — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 17:28:13 +0000

King Lear in NYC parks, and a short film, too!

I’ve been cast as the Fool in my second production of King Lear with my friend Donald Grody as the titular monarch. This time, it’s for the New York Classical Theatre Company here in NYC, whose mission is to provide free professional classical theatre to audiences in NYC parks. We’ll be performing in June near West 103rd Street in Central Park, then an encore of two weeks down at Battery Park. It’s been a long time since I’ve done outdoor theatre, and this promises to be an exciting production! Please visit http://www.newyorkclassical.org/ for information.

I was also hired for a role in a beautifully written NYU thesis film called Free Man by author/director Katie Rotondo. The shoot will be early May in the NYC area. I’m very excited about the message of this film, and about the quality of the script.

May 2008

Andrew Sellon — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 17:25:28 +0000

King Lear Ruled!

I’m thrilled that our production of King Lear at Vermont Stage was a massive hit with both critics and audience members. The production starred Broadway veteran Donald Grody as the tragic title character. The entire production was beautifully cast, designed and directed, and the live percussion soundscape took the production to a whole new level. Playing the Fool was a liberating, eye-opening experience I won’t soon forget. For reviews, pictures and interviews, please click here.