On occasion I've been adding in stories of my life to these pages, reflections and memories of my history in New York and in places where I've had moments or seasons of such deeply resonating images that the thought of the place or the time brings back so many feelings in a very beautiful and sometimes profound and life changing way. This year as the New Year approached, I remembered a New Year's Eve that was like nothing I could ever have imagined, and though I know there are much more glamorous times I've had, it stays in my mind as a memorable experience that I am so grateful to have had as part of my journey.
I'm not sure of the exact year, but it was sometime in the early 90's I think, when I was first starting out as an actress in New York. A woman who I knew from the Circle Repertory Company where we were both members asked me to be in a short play that she wrote that was scheduled to be performed at a New Year's Eve into New Year's Day marathon at a theater company somewhere midtown. Though I could look these things up and may at some point, as I write this I don't remember the name of the play, the playwright's name, the theater company or exactly where the performance was. In my memory the play festival was being held at a black box space somewhere in the East 50's or 60's, but it could have been on the west side or in the 70's or 80's. Wherever it was, the play was ten or fifteen minutes long and it was scheduled to start at around 6am on New Year's Day. That meant of course that I had to go to sleep early and couldn't have a party or go to one on New Year's Eve which was difficult for me because in those days I always loved to throw parties and New Year's Eve has always been a special and fun time for me to go out or have people over and dress up in something extra glittery and celebrate life.
But that year because of the play, I went to bed early, woke up at whatever early time in the morning and made my way uptown from the apartment I lived in at the time in the West Village all the way near the West Side Highway. The City was quiet at the hour I was traveling, there were signs of the parties the nights before, but it was as if everyone were finally sleeping after all their end of the year plans had made their way to the finish line in the early morning light. I arrived at the theater and went to the green room which was really only the size of a closet as the theater itself as I remember it was very small. And then it was time to go on, and I seated myself at the table on stage in the darkness. The play was about a woman who was working as a temporary secretary at a new job, something that I did back in those days so it made perfect sense to me and my life at the time. The twist was that in this play her boss is a millionaire, and somehow or other she ends up meeting him after they talk on the phone and if I remember rightly he helps support her playwriting career. I honestly don't remember if they get married or not, but I don't think so. It was to my memory much more of a play about a woman's finding a friend and mentor, someone who can be a friend who supports her in her professional career and her life of independence. Perhaps that is what I wish that it had been, but that is how my memory sees it. It's in my files somewhere and if I find it and it's different, I'll update this story sometime.
So there I was sitting at the table in the dark, the lights come up and the phone on my desk rings, and I begin the conversation with the millionaire. And then at some point he arrives and although he was a very good actor and we'd rehearsed it well before hand, he had gone out the night before to a party and hadn't gotten any sleep, and when he started his first line, he went up and faltered and went to the end of the play. The difficulty for live theater when this happens is that everyone around the production is basing all of their cues on what is said. The lighting and sound people hear a cue and they have to do what they have to do to follow on and do what needs to be done. By going up on his lines and saying his last line, he almost ended the play before much had been said. There were a few tense moments and somehow I was able to bring us back around again, but he was completely lost.
There is something I often tell people now when I describe the experience of acting, and I say that for me it can be very stressful. Though I love it, as an actor I have to rely on the hope that the people I'm working with haven't gone out the night before to a party and because I've found over the years that some people do surprising things on stage, I end up learning the whole play, with all the lines, the direction, the sound and light cues, the props, so that if something goes wrong I can fix it and keep it going. I don't remember exactly what happened at that point in the play when I kept trying to bring it back around and the other actor kept getting lost, but as I remember it I think I started to rephrase his lines to feed them to him and tell the story of the play. Though it sounds like an experience full of anxiety, and it may have been at the time, somehow we got through it and no one except the playwright, cast and crew knew anything was wrong. I think someone asked me afterward if the play was supposed to just be my monologue, but other than that in my memory the story was somehow told.
Afterward I left the theater and walked across town in the early morning hours, perhaps taking the subway, possibly walking home as I sometimes did even in those days when I wanted to take time to savor the moments. It's possible that I treated myself to a cab, but I remember at least walking for a while, past Central Park and along 57th Street. When I got home to my West Village apartment, I had a glass of champagne and went to sleep again for a little while, waking up when the phone rang for real on the stage of my life to begin my New Year's Day.
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