Nothing like a little play...

“Act well your part; there all the honour lies.”

- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

Irish playwright Brian Friel died this week. He touched many lives and left a legacy of wonderful work.

You may not have heard of him, I suppose, unless you like the kind of work he did. I actually never met the man, but he richly touched my life – the notice of his death brought pause.

Spring 1972…

Following the military, I returned to school at Fairmont State College. The G.I. Bill funded my tuition and books, but for incidental expenses I took a job as a janitor in the Administration Building…the second floor my domain.

One day in the spring semester, my eye caught an announcement on one of the bulletin boards:

‘Brian Friel’s “Lovers” will be presented by the

Fairmont State Masquers in November of this

year. There are parts for two readers and two

actors. If you are interested in being a part of

this production, auditions will be held on

such and such a date.’

Hmm, I thought, I have always wanted be in a play.

I had been in radio during my previous college career. Why not give it a try.

So with the naiveté of someone having NO IDEA what might be involved, I showed up to read for the narrator’s part.

Memory fails as to the number of folks trying out, but the waiting room seemed pretty full. As I chatted with folks waiting to read, it became clear I was the ONLY non theater major, AND the only one with zero experience on the stage

Being undeterred by my own ignorance, I thought, You know what, I might just get this part!

The play was cast…

Auditions complete, all of the folks that had tried out gathered together for the casting announcement.

 “I want to thank all of you that auditioned out for the play. We have made out decision on the actors,” the director Dan Weber said.

“The parts for the readers will go to Chuck Whiting and Carol Malone.”

Damn! I was pretty sure I had a shot at that part.  I thought as I got up and started out of the room.

“Dreisinger, where are you going?”  I paused…

“We want you to play the part of Joe!”

“I’m sorry, what??” I stammered a little confused. “I have never acted in my life!”

“Trust me,” he said “You can do this.”

So began an immersion into collegiate theater, and one of the most interesting experiences of my life.

Lovers by Brian Friel…

The play took place on a hilltop in Ireland in the 1960s. Mag, the female lead, had become pregnant – she and Joe would marry soon. She had no patience for schooling. After all she was getting married…full of daydreams and distracted from her studies, she has fallen asleep.

Joe, the more serious, was concerned about their survival with a child coming into the world.

[Mag is waiting for Joe to meet her as the play opens].

[Joe comes up the hill and speaks to Mag in an Irish Brogue.]

“Mag there is something I never told you.

And since you are going to be my wife, I

don’t want there to be any secrets between

us. I have a post office book. I’ve had it since

I was ten. There is 23 pounds 15 pence in it now.”

[He looks down at her]

Mag? You asleep, Mag? How the hell

can you sleep when you have no work

done! Maggie!

She wakens, and after a few minutes of dialogue, the actors freeze on stage. With the help of slides and a black and white film projected to a screen center and above the stage, the narrators interject, informing the audience of what is ahead - they reveal what Mag and Joe do not know.

[Man]

“On Tuesday, June 21, a local boy was driving

his father’s cows down the edge of Lough Gorn

for a drink when he saw what he described as

“bundles of clothes” floating just off the North

Shore. He ran home and told his mother.”

[Woman]

“…the “bundles” were the bodies of Margaret

Mary Enright and Joseph Michael Brennan.

They were floating, fully clothed, face down,

in twenty-seven inches of water.”

Early in the show, the audience now knows what is to become of Mag and Joe.

In the course of the play, the characters argue, make up and energetically chat about their future. As the afternoon carries forward, they decide to head to Lough Gorn for a short boat ride to finish the day. The play ends as they run down the hill hand in hand, laughing with nothing in front of them but hard work and blue sky….

Better said, with nothing in front of them…

A success…

Every time I stood in the wings, a book bag slung over my shoulder, waiting for my cue, knowing there was nothing but a brightly lit stage and Kathy Malone (Mag Enright) waiting for me…I WAS TERRIFIED.

Once it began, however, for me it was just the two of us interacting with dialogue we had rehearsed hundreds of times...the words taking on a life of their own.  For the 60 minutes we pushed and pulled through the interaction of the characters, it was magic.

The play ran Thursday through Saturday with a matinee Sunday afternoon in that Fall of 1972.  It turned out to be so successful that the local theater where the show appeared, hired the entire cast and ran it again for several sold out shows later that year.

Who does it alone?

I learned a few things about theater during that time. The most valuable lesson was just how minor the actors are in the process. Set designers and builders…costume designers and sewers…musicians…dialect coaches…make up artists…lighting folks…photographers…rehearsals, rehearsals, rehearsals with script assistants there to prompt and encourage when needed. What a multidimensional team effort!

In all more than 30 people put that two-actor/two-narrator show together with love and selflessness I have rarely seen.

In the end we got good reviews in the local papers…I even won best actor for theater productions at the college that year, and through this experience met and learned to love some of the most quirky, energetic and talented people I have known in my life.

And then we were done…

At the last curtain call, we ‘struck the set,’ and all that had been alive in the months of preparation stopped on a dime with the unexpected suddenness of a plummeting boulder hitting concrete. 

I tried to recapture the feeling of the team effort, but it honestly took time to get over the withdrawal that came when that show ended. Everything about this was new to me…I did not know what striking the set meant…I do now.

Dan Weber, had created a unique multimedia (video, slide, music) interpretation of this play that, in spite of all its moving parts, flowed flawlessly.  He wrote me a brief note at the end of the year on a plain piece of paper that I still have:

“Ted,

I hope this experience will help you. May the

luck of the Irish always be with you. If we

can, let’s try another show someday,

Coach”

We never did another show together…I never did a theater production again with anyone, but what happened with those amazing people in that day and time owns a richly coveted place in my heart.

“Irish playwright Brian Friel died this week. He touched many lives and left a legacy of wonderful work.”…none more meaningful for me than Lovers – every single one of them….

-ted