
Just arrived in San Fran--seeing the third preview on Friday. Anyway ACT sent out this email (which also included a warning that the preview version of the show right now was running a somewhat long 3 hours).
Welcome to the world premiere musical Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City!
Producing a musical is like producing a straight play, only with a thousand more moving parts, all of which have to mesh in perfect balance. We've just finished four weeks of studio rehearsal and a technical process in which an evocative set, lights, an orchestra, and more than 200 costumes were added to the mix—more moving parts! It's been an incredible ride so far, but the real excitement is about to begin.
We're at the point where we need you, our enthusiastic preview audiences: the show is so big and so intricate, so intimate and so explosive, that the more opportunities we have to test the mix, the better the show will be. Where you laugh or applaud, where your attention is rapt, where we sense that maybe we've lost you for a moment—all of this provides us with the most crucial information we need to continue fine-tuning the production. With this in mind, we've added several previews beyond our usual five, and we're delighted that you'll become our new creative partners on the next leg of this exciting journey. After all, the aim of all these months of effort has been to make a show for you.
So welcome to A.C.T. We hope you'll enjoy the show!
Michael Paller
Dramaturg
***
Dear Friend of A.C.T.,
In the process of rehearsing Tales of the City, I have done some pretty insane things:
1) Bared my breasts. Twice. (Once when I was asked to and once 'cause I just felt like it.)
2) Helped Wesley Taylor (the actor playing "Mouse," wearing nothing but Superman briefs) soar through the air to cross from upstage right to downstage left.
3) Cried my guts out while singing a beautiful but emotionally wrenching duet with Tony Award winner Judy Kaye. (It was a particularly hormonal day for me.)
4) Cried my guts out some more in the halls of A.C.T. as our beautiful, brilliant Betsy Wolfe (who plays Mary Ann Singleton) just hugged me 'til I stopped, no questions asked.
5) Narrowly escaped a tragic yet humiliating end (death by disco ball—DON'T ASK).
6) Nodded my head in absolute seriousness when the stage manager said, "Okay, actors, let's take it from 'Crotch,' and after lunch we'll pick it up from 'Go **** yourself.'"
And that's just in the last six weeks.
My journey through Armistead Maupin's brilliantly crafted San Francisco tales started long before we set foot in the hallowed halls of the American Conservatory Theater. I got a call about three years ago in New York City while I was doing Hairspray on Broadway (playing Velma Von Tussle). I was exhausted—the call came on my only day off. The casting director (a genius of a man named David Caparelliotis) asked if I'd be willing to show up on my next day off to do a cold reading of Tales of the City at Jason Moore's house.
And believe it or not, I was stupid enough and ignorant enough to say "no"—not once, but twice. It wasn't stupidity so much as it was the old "eight-shows-a-week-and-not-getting-any-younger" exhaustion. I am so NOT a morning person, and getting up on a Monday morning (my one day off) to go do even MORE theater on the one day I was permitted to NOT do theater just seemed plain CRAZY—especially when my voice was already tired and everyone was getting sick.
God bless David C., and Armistead Maupin, too. David tried one more time, and he said that Armistead had seen me perform and that he heartily approved of me doing Mona in that initial little cold reading at Jason Moore's house.
"Really??? What did he see me in?"
"I showed him the YouTube video you posted."
I've been known to post silly videos on YouTube from time to time as my alter-ego, the "99 Cent Whore." She's a cross between Loretta Lynn, Jack Black, and an assistant night manager at a 99 Cent Store in West Covina who likes to sing and plays the guitar REALLY badly.
Before I knew it I was in Jason's beautiful home bright and early on a Monday morning. As I walked in the door, a handsome gentleman I'd never met before (who looked more like a naughty, sexy Santa Claus than a celebrated author) approached me. Armistead had an ACTUAL twinkle in his eye, and he smiled as he walked toward me singing, "Come on, come on, be a big slutty broke-ass whore, shop at the 99 Cent Sto-or-ore!" Then he laughed. That did it. I was in. I was a goner. I loved this man. I would beg, borrow, or steal to play the part of Mona Ramsey.
Once I read Jeff Whitty's awesome script, read aloud by the actors they'd assembled that day, and heard those gorgeous songs (which the composers had to play on a boom box), I could think of nothing I'd rather do more than Tales of the City. And in three years, that feeling has only intensified. I am humbled on a daily basis by the talent surrounding me. The production team, the creative team, the cast, the A.C.T. folks—it's all brilliant and it's all FUN.
There have been several incarnations of this show, from a cold reading at an apartment in NYC three years ago, to a workshop in a barn in Connecticut, to a staged reading in NYC, to another one-month workshop here at A.C.T. last year, and I am lucky enough to still be a part of it. In an age that's chock full of reality TV and people who are "eliminated" after every commercial break, I don't take my continued involvement in this show lightly. I will gladly get up at any hour of the day they tell me to. This show is gorgeous to look at, to listen to, and to be a part of. It's hilariously silly at times, deeply important, and always riveting.
And if none of that appeals to you, well . . . I do show my tits. So, you know . . . there's that.
Mary Birdsong
Tales of the City cast member