LEAVING IOWA...AGAIN

"Fascinating is the vacation f-word."  My son, nearly 10, laughed as I read aloud the character Dad's line from Tim Clue and Spike Manton's play, LEAVING IOWA last night, my most favorite play I've ever acted in.

I was a part of the original cast of LEAVING IOWA when it made its professional debut at the Purple Rose Theatre in Chelsea, Michigan, and I got to workshop the new script with one of the playwrights, Tim Clue, working under the direction of Tony Caselli.  I read the new script before auditioning, and as I was saying aloud Sis's role (who for the most part is seen in flashbacks as the older tween in the family & who enjoys teasing her younger brother) I knew it was meant for me.  My voice and inflection fit Sis's sentences and exclamations to a tee.  That's how I felt, anyway and I hadn't ever experienced feeling that way auditioning for any other role before, and I haven't since.  LEAVING IOWA is the only play where I was cast on the spot after auditioning.  It's also the only play where I was offered a role without auditioning, when Tony produced it at the Williamston Theatre (where he is now Artistic Director) five years later, and where I got to revisit my Sis role with John Lepard once again in the leading role of my brother.

Revisiting LEAVING IOWA walking the dog with my son began with me recounting to him the scene where Sis and Don, on vacation with their Dad and Mom, drive through Iowa on what was to be their last family summer vacation together.  They spot the tourist stop Ghost Caverns and beg Dad relentlessly to go.  After nearly two pages of, "Please, Dad's," and "Why not's?" Dad says it's too expensive and Sis and Don's argument is shut down.  Then they spot a free parking sign and start back up again, chanting at one point, "Free, free, free, free, free," to which inevitably, Dad, exhausted (all while driving and being pestered from the backseat) says the two words described by adult Don in the play as, "The words of a broken man,": "We'll see."  (Of course in kids speak, 'We'll see' means YES.)  Sam enjoyed my telling so much, he began chiming out a chorus of 'Free's' and asking me to tell it again, even becoming 'Dad' to my 'Sis', which led to my dusting off the 11 year-old binder-clipped script and reading it aloud to him (and speaking all the parts) before bedtime.

It was great to say the least to give my voice to all the characters in front of Sam, as it was enjoying remembering how I said most of my Sis lines.  I kept thinking though I'm over a decade older since playing Sis, I could still embody that young person's energy and voice.  I could also play Mom now.  Funny enough, Sam pointed out how similar I am to Dad, who has an immense love of family togetherness and American history, especially when I read the scene where Don and Dad visit a Civil War re enactor ("Fascinating!") and Dad becomes part of the re-enactment (Dad's enthusiasm mortifies Don) this on the heels of re-watching episodes from Ken Burns Civil War documentary this past week.

Also great is still having friendships with the people I enjoyed LEAVING IOWA with so long ago.  "Aw, man, we were just talking about that play!" replied Tony Caselli, when I emailed him about my telling the story to Sam last night.  I remember when we performed LEAVING IOWA at the Rose and it was sold out every performance the six weeks it ran.  The ushers had to sit on the stairs.  The audience collectively laughed and cried every show.  The reviews were stellar.  Jeff Daniels (Executive Director at the Purple Rose Theatre) said if he'd known what kind of success LEAVING IOWA was going to have he would have put it in the summer slot for that season (longer run.)

I have so many great memories from doing Leaving Iowa at the Purple Rose and Williamston Theatres, too many to share here tonight.  I imagine myself an old lady one day, surrounded by just a few precious mementos to occasionally take out and look at for a smile.  One will be a little snow globe that reads JOHN WAYNE BIRTHPLACE, WINTERSET, IOWA, setting for LEAVING IOWA (which references John Wayne's birthplace in the script.)  I gave one of these to cast and crew on opening night at the Purple Rose. The other, a plastic statuette from the Oakland Press for BEST ENSEMBLE PERFORMANCE in LEAVING IOWA (the only non-certificate award for performance I've ever received.)  Maybe too, my first loose leaf script, and the published paperback version, which has my name among the rest of the cast from the 2004 Purple Rose Production (only 1 of 2 published plays my name, as being a part of an original cast, appears in.)

Cover of published paperback LEAVING IOWA script, by Tim Clue and Spike Manton.

Inside published script, Acknowledgments with my name (then Teri Clark) along with the rest of the Purple Rose Theatre cast and directors.

Original LEAVING IOWA script with opening night gift and acting award.

LEAVING IOWA original cast from the 2004 Purple Rose Theatre production, directed by Tony Caselli, Artistic Direction by Guy Sanville, from bottom right clockwise: 

Elizabeth Townsend (Mom) Grant Krause (Dad) Me & John Lepard (Don)

photo courtesy Purple Rose Theatre, c. 2004

http://www.tericlarklinden.com

Culligan Man Concert

You never know what creativity lurks in the hearts and minds of the every day people you encounter. Enter Roy Lovely.  Culligan water softening company technician for 40 years who came to my house this afternoon for an annual maintenance check on my water softener and right before leaving and seeing my guitar asked, "Do you play guitar?"  That sparked a conversation about my still wanting to learn how to play and Roy's playing, composing and recording since he was 12 (I'm guessing somewhere around 5 decades now) and me showing him my mom's Fender.

Roy tuned it and then knelt down (he declined the chair I offered him) and began playing a concert of what can only be described as a guitar symphony of sounds.  His first number reminded me of my mother playing the song Freight Train when I was a little girl, something I hadn't thought about in a long time.  When Roy was finished he told me he composed that song and began playing another.

Then there was more conversation about his daughter's beautiful singing voice and her accomplishments singing at Carnegie Hall and singing the National Anthem at the Cincinnati Red's stadium, as well as Roy's love of making CD's of his original music incorporating all the different tracks of instruments he's laid down himself ("Except for drums," - he uses the software's drums.)  He also talked about all his time in the USAF and playing in a band while touring, and in England (the band in England recorded and album and almost appeared on television) and when he returned from the Air Force, playing again with his high school band VFW's and bars all over the Fairborn and Dayton area (which he gave up 20 years ago...but, as Roy said, will never give up playing and recording.)

Remembering hearing today how feature film composer James Horner had died, I told Roy I'd come across many short and independent film makers who could use someone like him composing for their films. He said he always told his wife all it would take would be one song to be used on one feature film to set them for life!

I walked Roy out to his company Culligan van and he played some of his CD for me with tracks he'd composed (including the first one he played on my Fender.)  I closed my eyes and tapped my foot, basking in the warm sun and smiling outward and inwardly at this little gift I'd been given.  Roy's music evoked emotional memory and pleasant feelings from when I was a child and being with my mother during summer, and all the times she'd play guitar and sing.

I told Roy about my local WYSO radio station connection that broadcasts NPR in the Dayton area and whose station manager and national announcer are my backyard neighbors, and suggested his story and music be great on one of their local spotlight stories.  Roy is going to drop a CD off (he doesn't mass produce and sell these.)  I'm not sure yet of my part (if any) with having Roy's music and knowing the folks I do at the radio station, but if I do it'll be to get his music into the hands of the ones who can get it heard by many.  Maybe my encounter with Mr. Roy Lovely and his sharing his gift of music this afternoon was just a reminder about being open to receive, because you never know when and where gifts will show up, and you should always be ready.

The music connection.  The artist connection.  The creative connection.  The heart connection.

Mom's Fender, freshly tuned and played (even after Roy left, a little bit by me.)