When the Sun’s ode to geekdom, “Let your geek flag fly,” hit stands in July, we reveled in the chance to gush about our favorite sci-fi and fantasy obsessions. In describing fantasized outer space adventures or wizarding world fixations, that issue pretty much announced to the greater Santa Maria area that the Sun’s editorial staff is really just a bunch of grown-up geeks.
And here’s something else most of our readers probably didn’t know about us: We’re also a bunch of theater geeks. Okay, not all of us—Sports Editor Sarah E. Thien thoroughly enjoys teasing Executive Editor Ryan Miller and me about our encyclopedic knowledge of Broadway musicals. Still, we remain incredibly proud of our theater freak status.
Some people might say that the Santa Maria area doesn’t offer the most nurturing environment for thespians the likes of us. This city is known mostly for its barbecue, its rodeo, and its grapes. But, as many Santa Marians know, that’s not the whole story.
For more than 40 years, Pacific Conservatory for the Performing Arts Theaterfest (locals know it as PCPA) has been staging productions of well-known—and lesser known, but nonetheless enthralling—musicals and plays. From Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma, to more recent productions such as Ragtime and The Weir, PCPA has presented shows from every corner of the theatrical canon.
Perhaps just as well known as PCPA’s productions is the long list of successful actors who have performed on its stages or received training from its conservatory. For years, local audiences have witnessed the emergence of some of the entertainment industry’s biggest names, including Robin Williams, Mercedes Ruehl, Kelly McGillis, Harry Groener, and Kathy Bates.
In June, one of PCPA’s talented alumni, Boyd Gaines, was awarded the 2008 Tony for Best Featured Actor in a Musical for his commendable performance in Gypsy on Broadway.
And Gaines wasn’t the only Gypsy cast member recognized for his talents. This year, Gypsy swept the acting categories. Musical theater mainstay Patti LuPone took home Best Actress in a Musical for her performance as Rose, and Laura Benanti won Best Featured Actress in a Musical for her turn as Louise/Gypsy Rose Lee.
Of course, all the buzz about Gypsy got my theater-obsessed, journalistic mind to scheming. After days of secretly scouring the Internet for airline tickets at work, I summoned all of my persuasive powers (and singing skills) and approached Ryan with my idea.
“I had a dream/A wonderful dream, Ryan/All about Gaines in the Gypsy production/Gimme a chance, ‘cause ya’ know I got gumption,” I sang. “Oh, what a dream/A wonderful dream, Ryan/And all that I need is vacation time, Ryan.”
Well, not really. It probably went a little more like this:
“Hey, Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have a week off in October to go to New York City—”
Cue Ryan’s quizzical raise of the eyebrow.
“So I can interview Boyd Gaines for a cover story? He’s playing in Gypsy right now and he trained at PCPA—“
“I know who Boyd Gaines is, Amy. … Uh, sure. If you can make it happen, you can go.”
“Ohmigod! Really?! Thanks!”
At the time, Ryan probably viewed the proposal as another one of my hare-brained editorial ideas, but I had gotten my okay and was on a mission. And even if it didn’t work out, maybe I’d still get to go on vacation.
In the beginning
Before the bright lights of Broadway, Gaines got his start performing as a senior in the Arroyo Grande High School theater department. After graduating from high school in 1971, he auditioned for and was accepted into PCPA’s acting program.
“I sat in on Boyd’s first audition for Our Town,” said Carolyn Shouse, a fellow PCPA performer and choreographer. “I remember he had a nice, thick beard and big, shaggy hair. He sang Chattanooga Choo Choo and he had this gorgeous, baritone voice.
“We ended up casting him as the mayor,” Shouse said. “It was a very clean-cut era, so he had to cut his hair and shave his beard.”
The experience tested Gaines’ dedication to acting, but only ended up as a slight bump in his road to stardom.
“I think he was kind of shocked that he had to do that, so the costume designer had him take it in stages. First he cut his hair, then a few weeks later he shaved,” Shouse said.
After Our Town, Gaines went on to perform in more than 35 PCPA productions, both musical and dramatic.
In 1972, Shouse and Gaines appeared in The Music Man together. Gaines sang in the quartet with Shouse’s husband, Jack, who went on to serve as PCPA’s artistic director for 14 years. That same year, Gaines appeared in other musical classics, including The Fantasticks and She Loves Me.
From 1972 to 1974, he took a more dramatic turn in plays such as The Cherry Orchard and The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail. But he continued to perform in musicals as well, including Brigadoon and Puccini’s opera La Boheme, in which he played leading man Marcello.
After La Boheme came The Mikado, and with it a few obstacles—but Gaines used those obstacles to fortify his discipline as an actor, Shouse said.
“I remember one time Boyd had ridden his bike to the theater. He tripped, caught his pant cuff on a chain, and fell in the gravel. It scraped up the side of his face pretty badly it was all bloody and no doubt painful,” Shouse said. “But he went into makeup and they turned it into a Japanese flag on the side of his face because, you know, the show must go on.”
While at PCPA, Gaines even went on a United Service Organizations tour of the Pacific Command in Once Upon a Mattress with director Jack Shouse. The tour had Gaines playing in places such as Guam and the Philippines.
For his last performance with PCPA, Gaines bagged a leading role in Carson McCullers’ The Ballad of the Sad Cafe.
“Ballad was a big change for him,” Shouse said. “It was one of those enriching roles that deepened his range as an actor.”
Overall, Shouse said, Gaines’ time at PCPA “really transformed him. It was wonderful watching him transform himself from this kind of chunky, shaggy kid into this lean and chiseled leading man.”
I’m not a stalker
After talking to folks at PCPA, I embarked on the arduous task of actually landing an interview. First, I recruited the help of former Sun arts editor and current PCPA publicist Craig Shafer. A fellow theater enthusiast, he was more than happy to help me track down the busy Broadway star.
Phone number in hand, I spent about two months assailing Gaines’ management company with nearly a dozen voicemails, accompanied by a handful of professionally worded e-mails. My single-minded/borderline stalkerish behavior most likely earned me the title of that “Crazy California Reporter” from company employees. On the other hand, it ultimately paid off, because the day before I was set to leave for New York, the call came down that Boyd Gaines wanted to do the interview.
The big time
After PCPA, Gaines auditioned and was accepted into Juilliard’s esteemed acting program, where he spent four years studying under some of the most accomplished instructors in the field, including Michael Kahn, Marian Seldes, and John Stix.
In his final two years there, Gaines received high marks for his performances in the school’s professional productions.
Upon graduating, he immediately jumped into the professional acting world. For his off-Broadway debut, Gaines appeared as Melchior Gabor in the New York Shakespeare Festival’s (non-musical) production of Spring Awakening. After an impressive first performance, he landed roles with several revered theatrical venues, including New York’s Roundabout Theater Company, the Philadelphia Drama Guild, and the Yale Repertory Theater.
Gaines broke into the mainstream media in the early 1980s. He appeared in the cult classic film Fame, and played Valerie Bertinelli’s boyfriend and eventual husband, Mark Royer, in the long-running sitcom One Day at a Time. The supporting role cemented him in the annals of American television history, and also opened the door to future projects in television, film, and, of course, theater.
Gaines worked steadily in other off-Broadway productions throughout the early 1980s. In 1989, he made his Broadway debut in Wendy Wasserstein’s Pulitzer Prize-winning dramedy The Heidi Chronicles, which tracks the life of art historian Heidi Holland and her journey through three tumultuous decades. Gaines won his first Tony for playing Heidi’s best friend, Dr. Peter Patrone, a gay pediatrician who supports feminist Heidi while fighting his own battles in the gay rights movement.
The Heidi Chronicles gave way to many more leading roles—not to mention more Tony awards.
In 1992, Gaines appeared again in the New York Shakespeare Festival, this time in the Bard’s own Comedy of Errors. Reviews for the production weren’t spectacular, but the experience did reward Gaines in the personal sphere. While performing Errors, he met and fell in love with his co-star Kathleen McNenny, whom he later married.
Following the Shakespeare Festival, Gaines appeared in a cluster of Manhattan-based plays, including another run in the endearing musical She Loves Me. This time around, Gaines was awarded another Tony for his turn as happy-go-lucky shop owner Georg Nowack. The production has been credited as the inspiration for the Meg Ryan-Tom Hanks feature You’ve Got Mail.
The Tonys called again the very next year, recognizing Gaines for his portrayal of commitment-phobe Robert in Stephen Sondheim’s Company. The show was one of the first musicals to tackle adult relationship issues in its music.
After Company, Gaines appeared in productions at New York’s Jewish and Irish repertory theaters, and played the starving American writer Cliff Bradshaw in Studio 54’s staging of Cabaret. He began the new century with a third Tony Award for his performance in the “dance play” Contact, which was also named Best Musical of 2000.
Gaines’ multi-faceted career continued in the new millennium, with runs of The Importance of Being Ernest and Our Town at the famed Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, and The Tempest at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C.
In 2007, Gaines appeared as Col. Pickering in a revival of George Bernard Shaw’s cockney Cinderella story Pygmalion. He also increased his number of Tony nominations to four for his performance in the critically acclaimed revival of Journey’s End.
Earlier this year, Gaines earned his fifth Tony nomination—and fourth win—for his performance in the musical Gypsy.
Based on the memoirs of Gypsy Rose Lee, the famous burlesque performer, Gypsy focuses on Lee’s mother, Madame Rose—the quintessential stage mother who bullies her eldest, seemingly untalented daughter into the spotlight. Often called the “Greatest American Musical” by critics and creatives alike, Gypsy features music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, and a book by Arthur Laurents (who also directed this most recent installment).
Gaines plays Herbie, Rose’s long-suffering lover and manager to the family’s similarly suffering vaudeville show.
“Gaines is no spineless mouse as Herbie, but a profoundly decent man with a deep well of dignity,” Variety’s David Rooney wrote of Gaines’ performance in his March 2008 review.
On the evening of Oct. 28, my friend Haley and I trekked from our Chelsea hostel up to the St. James Theater in Times Square to see the show for ourselves. And let me tell you, it doesn’t disappoint.
Curtain up. Light the lights.
The performance
Twittering with anticipation and winded from our mad dash out of the subway, we sailed into the theater with just minutes to spare.
Finally seated in our discounted orchestra seats, we managed to catch our breath and enjoy the orchestra’s rousing overture of classic Gypsy tunes. But, as we quickly learned from one of our fellow theater patrons, there was something even more exciting than the overture to pay attention to.
“The lady behind me just pointed out that Steven Spielberg is sitting about five rows in front of us,” the kind patron whispered, pointing discreetly toward the stage.
“No way!” I barked, automatically rummaging for my camera phone.
“Shhhh!”
“Sorry! Where?”
“You see that guy sitting over there with his back to us?”
“Yeah—is that really him?”
“It totally is.”
At that point, the man sitting next to me chimed in.
“Yeah, and he’s sitting with Kate Capshaw and Michelle Pfeiffer … and who’s that guy sitting next to her? I think he’s a producer or something.”
“Dude, it’s David E. Kelley. He’s married to Michelle Pfeiffer,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, you’re so right. Wow!”
“Yeah!”
At that moment, the house lights began to dim, bringing our shameless gawking to an abrupt end. But within the first few bars of Gypsy’s enchanting score we were transported to another world, our thoughts of Hollywood celebrities far behind us.
The curtains parted and we were greeted by a lineup of wannabe vaudeville stars and a gaggle of overbearing mothers. The mothers were shooed from the stage, and the spotlight eventually turned to the Hovick sisters, cupie doll June and awkward Louise, who burst into the sugary-sweet number “Let Me Entertain You.”
Suddenly LuPone, as Madame Rose, came steaming up the house aisle, the show’s signature line, “Sing out, Louise!” booming from her lips. From there, the audience was taken along on a whirlwind journey as Rose strove to make her children stars in the Orpheum Circuit.
A few numbers later, the girls were auditioning in Los Angeles, where Rose meets Herbie, a vaudeville-manager-turned candy salesman. Disarmed by Rose’s nerve and seductive charm, Herbie gets roped into managing the family show.
The chemistry between Gaines and LuPone crackled with pointed humor and sex appeal.
LuPone could easily overshadow her supporting man, bulldozing her way through number after show-stopping number, but Gaines held his own, transforming Herbie from a lovesick puppy dog to the show’s moral backbone.
In more light-hearted scenes—such as the one for all, all for one number “Together Wherever We Go”—similarly spectacular chemistry worked between Gaines, LuPone, and Laura Benanti (who evolved flawlessly from ugly duckling Louise to beautiful swan Gypsy Rose Lee).
“Through thick and through thin / All out or all in / And whether it’s win, place or show,” the chummy trio vows, “With you for me and me for you / We’ll muddle through whatever we do / Together, wherever we go!”
And that camaraderie goes more than skin deep, as I later learned in my backstage interview.
Behind the curtain
Waiting outside of Gaines’ dressing room after the show, it took me a couple of minutes to accept the fact that I was indeed backstage at a Tony Award-winning musical about to interview one of its Tony Award-winning stars. And I wasn’t the only one who was starstruck.
Actors, stagehands, and costumers buzzed all around me, gossiping about the backstage appearance of a certain Oscar Award-winning director and his celebrity posse. The conversations only added to the overall surrealism of the experience, and I had to do everything—short of pinching myself—to maintain an air of something resembling journalistic professionalism.
Luckily, I soon learned that Spielberg and crew were whisked upstairs to Patti LuPone’s dressing room, so I could focus on the task at hand.
A few minutes later, the door to the dressing room swept open and I came face to face with the man himself. Gaines had traded Herbie’s three-piece suit for more casual, all-black attire, but he still exuded the same down-to-earth joviality of his character. He sported a dapper mustache—no bushy beard—but his face still beamed the boyish charm he was known for at PCPA.
Before we sat down for the interview, there was a knock at the door. The stage manager announced that there was a man named Carlos Rosset to see him.
Rosset—nicknamed “CaCa,” Gaines said—directed him and his wife, Kathleen, in Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors before they were married.
“Remember Kathleen?” Gaines asked the cheerful Rosset as he entered the dressing room and pointed to a collection of family photos hanging on the wall.
A fellow actor, Kathleen McNenny is currently appearing in the psychotic thriller Mindgame at the SoHo Playhouse downtown. The couple’s daughter, Leslie, is 11 and goes to school in Manhattan.
“We like her to see what we do. She’s probably seen Gypsy about 10 times,” Gaines later told me. “But she probably won’t see my wife’s show because it’s so violent.”
Being a parent who acts for a living can sometimes take its toll, but Gaines said that it’s something he does his best to balance.
“I’ll probably only see my daughter a couple of hours this week. But she’s a trooper,” he said. “There are nights when she says, ‘Oh Dad, don’t go to the theater tonight,’ but kids are resilient, and she seems to understand.
“It’s a hard life,” he said of an actor’s lifestyle. “But it’s also a great life if you’re lucky enough to be successful.
“We’re migrant workers,” he added, maybe recalling memories of his days spent in Santa Maria. “We go where the crops grow.”
But Gaines won’t be going anywhere for the time being. After transferring to Broadway from its three-week run at the New York City Center last year, Gypsy has received sizzling reviews and generated sizable box office revenue.
A good portion of the show’s success can be credited to the palpable chemistry between its three leads.
“We have chemistry, definitely,” Gaines said. “That’s something that you can’t always count on in the theater.”
But Gaines was quick to take himself out of the spotlight and offer high praise for his leading ladies.
“I can sing a bit, but I’m not a great singer, not like Laura or Patti,” he said. “I mean, Jesus, those two gals are just amazing.”
In fact, when it came to the casting of Herbie, Gaines said he wouldn’t have been his own first choice.
“When I first got offered the part, I didn’t really think I was a good fit. I always thought it was more of a charactery part. And I am more of a character man—I do character parts—but I wasn’t sure about this one,” he said. “But after I started talking to Arthur [Laurents] and heard what he had in mind for the part, I thought, ‘Yeah, I can do this.’”
But Laurents, who wrote the musical’s book, no doubt knew what he was looking for in a Herbie, and Gaines wasn’t one to refuse him.
“Arthur is great. He’s incredibly demanding. He’s 89 and very intimidating because he’s brilliant,” Gaines said, adding that he received plenty of valuable direction from director Laurents and the show’s original lyricist, Stephen Sondheim.
“He’s great with actors,” Gaines said of Sondheim. “He loves actors, and he gives great notes on how to act his songs. He likes it honest and simple, and so does Arthur, for that matter.”
And honest and simple—or at least honest and unpretentious—is Herbie to a T in this production.
When asked how he views his character, Gaines said: “Herbie is kind of the glue that holds everything together, and when he leaves it kind of falls apart for Rose.
“I see Herbie as this guy who falls in love with this woman and wants to have a family. They obviously have this great relationship and probably a great sex life. So he holds out for her until he realizes that it’s probably never going to happen. Then he has to make a choice, so he packs up and leaves,” he said.
The role takes a fine mix of restraint and enthusiasm that some actors might struggle to pull off, but Gaines seemed in his element. Confidence in developing and performing a character, he said, stems in many ways from his years at PCPA.
“The work ethic at PCPA was so rigorous. It really formed you as an actor,” he said. “We worked seven days a week, with only Sunday mornings off.
“And you did everything,” he added. “You did the technical work and you acted. It was a great way to be introduced to the theater. It gives you a lot of respect for your other cast members and crew members. You’re much less likely to yell at a dresser if you’ve had to do it yourself.”
Overall, Gaines seems like the last person to yell at anyone, period. Halfway through our interview, LuPone called him upstairs to meet Mr. Spielberg.
“I was so glad I didn’t know they were here. It makes me self-conscious,” Gaines admitted. “The fun of acting is losing yourself in the material, and it’s very difficult when you’re watching what you’re doing.”
As he headed out the door, I audaciously mentioned that I would love to meet Momma Rose in the flesh. And rather than demand that I leave his dressing room at once, he good-naturedly replied, “I’ll see what I can do,” and bounded upstairs.
Left to my own resources, I sat in an armchair by the door and took in my surroundings. To the left of the dressing room mirror were pictures of Gaines’ friends and family, including his daughter, all beautiful blue eyes and smiles, and a picture of Gaines and his two co-stars singing in the show’s City Center run.
He came back shortly, and the conversation turned to how he deals with his own celebrity, especially the Tony Awards.
“It’s a strange thing,” he said of being nominated. “It’s a great honor, but I wouldn’t take it seriously. I know a lot of actors better than me who haven’t won. I know a lot of wonderful actors who have never played Broadway, for that matter.”
Ever the self-effacing actor, he added: “I think the best thing I can do is to be grateful and recognize that it’s not a footrace. It’s totally subjective. It’s voting.”
And when it comes to performing, he said that the experience is often more nerve-racking than it is glamorous.
“Usually, you’re doing a variation of something so it can get confusing,” he said, adding that for his televised performance of a number from She Loves Me, he wrote the words to the song on his hand because he was afraid he would forget them.
As the interview came to a close, LuPone’s sing-songy farewell “Goodbye, Boyd-y!” rang out as she made her way down the stairs. Gaines rose from his chair to say goodbye, and, true to his word, introduced me to my Broadway idol.
“Patti, this is Amy,” he said. “She’s a reporter from California, where my parents live.”
Making a gallant effort not to start squealing and throw my arms up into an Evita victory pose, I smiled, stuck my hand out, and said, “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi!” said Patti, in all of her glorious diva-ness.
I continued grinning like an idiot as the two Broadway stars talked about Gaines’ years on the Central Coast, and then Patti made her (fabulous) exit.
Not long after, Gaines and I made our way against the chilly October breeze to the stage door. Ever the gentleman, he offered me a ride home.
“No, that’s okay. I’m heading downtown,” I replied. “Thanks, though.”
After saying goodbye again, he climbed into his black town car and headed uptown.
And, as I made my way back to the subway, I had to pinch myself to make sure I didn’t just dream the whole thing up.
Staff Writer Amy Asman is afraid that she’s going to wake up. Contact her at aasman@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Nov 13-20, 2008.
