Hey friends,
Before I dive in, I want to thank Mark Harris for becoming a paid subscriber this week. Paid support really does make this possible. It helps me keep creating and sharing. But the truth is I should probably be writing this anyway. This space has been a great exercise for me, a way to gather my thoughts each week. So thank you for choosing to support, because it helps me stay accountable. It does mean a lot when people choose to support in that way, but all types of support mean the world to me. Thank you.
🎭 A Shared Life
This week I’ve been thinking about how characters belong not just to one actor, but to all who have inhabited their life. When we step into a role, we’re not always inventing it in isolation, we’re often joining a kind of lineage.
Seeing Harbor Stage’s lovely production of Circle Mirror Transformation again reminded me of this. Back at NYU, when I stage managed the play (my first time doing so, with ten actors in a double/triple casting experiment), I watched different performers embody the same roles. Teresa, Schultz, etc. Each interpretation their own, but still each recognizably the character. Last week in Wellfleet, I sat in the audience, and even though the actors were entirely new to me, I still knew these people. Their words, their silences, their quirks. Brand new, but still there was this hidden thread woven through.
It made me realize that a character is never just who I play onstage. They’re a tapestry made up of every actor who has ever carried them, and every audience who has ever received them. Their true lives are a collective one. We borrow these souls for a time, then pass them on.
Eleonora Duse once said:
“The actor must learn to lose himself in the part.”
Maybe losing ourselves is also how we discover that a character is more than any one of us. Their life is shared. Passed from body to body, voice to voice, audience to audience. We inhabit them for a time, leave something of ourselves in them, and then let them go. That continuity, that collective breathing, is what gives them a soul.
As an example, I think about my own role as Spike. Over the winter, my friend David Gow, who was playing Spike, messaged me online and said, “You should play this role.” I told him to hold that thought. What he didn’t know was that talks were already bubbling with David Drake about me coming here to Provincetown to do the show.
Not long after, it became real. And now I am living Spike’s life onstage, a life that David had lived before me. It feels like a privilege to add my own version to the lineage, knowing his is part of it too.
That is the beauty of acting. We make up the life of these characters together. We carry them for a while, then pass them on. In that sharing, in that collective breathing, the character becomes larger than any single performance or performer. Spike isn’t just mine or David’s. He lives with us, and with every audience that meets him.
🌟 Highlights from the Week
Race Point Hike:
My friend Robert took me out to ta dune hike up to the Race Point Lighthouse. At the end he told me to pose like Lauren Bacall (photo evidence attached). The views, the air, the light — it was the kind of day that stays with you.
Glasses Swap & Tallulah Glow:
Spencer and I did a glasses swap that turned into an impromptu fashion shoot. Meanwhile, later that day, Tallulah had her own moment. Caught in the doorway light at Cook Street, looking quite radiant.
Tallulah!! Brilliant Guests in the House:
This week, some people I truly admire came to see the show — Lisa Lambert, Glen Kelly, Seth Sikes, Kimberly LaRue. Hearing their thoughts afterward was deeply nourishing. These are people I think of as brilliant, and to have them enjoying our work, and offering me such kind words, was a gift.
Later we went out together, grabbed a photo, and Lisa was of course repping The Drowsy Chappell Roan, a parody show here in Provincetown. For obvious reasons, she really wanted to see it — since she co-wrote The Drowsy Chaperone. It was one of those perfectly Provincetown moments, where art folds in on itself and reminds you that even shows can share lives, not just characters.
⚡ Gratitude
I also want to give a special shoutout to Jay, who helped me move here at the start of this Provincetown chapter. He found a way to come back and see the show this week, and it was such a full-circle joy having him in the audience.
With love from PTown,
Jeff
P.S. Thank you so much to everyone who came out to see the show this week. It was especially wonderful to see Bill and Jimmy from PTown Bikes, Chase, Tim, Chris, and many more after the shows this week. Your support and presence mean the world, and I’m grateful for every single one of you.
Addendum: The quote I used has often been misattributed to Eleonora Duse. What is true is that Duse spoke of “eliminating the self” so the character could emerge naturally. The spirit of the idea is hers, even if the wording is not.
I particularly value your reflection and insights to the theatre. Shared lives and lineage are moving themes. Thank you.