A few days ago I shared a transcript I recently found from the first half of a cassette tape recording that William Salyers and I made one evening in 1997 while consuming a bottle of Macallan scotch, each. As promised, I share the second half of the full transcript at the end of this post.
We are clearly getting drunker on side two. Alas, this does not increase the insightfulness of our comments. Just the opposite, I’m afraid. I sure don’t like myself very much as the discussion wears on. It feels to me, thirteen years later, like I am trying to badger Bill into believing he will be a better artist once he admits he’s an artist and opens himself up to– what?—the “wider universe”; the “heroism of art”, or whatever woo-woo crap 30-year old-Paul was spouting. At one point, I literally say to him: “I think you need to start reading folktales.” Can you even get more excruciatingly Left-Coast Joseph Campbellish condescending than that?
In the intervening time since I gave him this advice Bill Salyers has gone on to world premiere the title role in Louis Slotin Sonata in Los Angeles and then off-Broadway, winning himself several awards and enormous critical acclaim for his efforts. He also world-premiered my play An American Book Of The Dead – The Game Show, directed the world premiere of The Good Ship Manhattan, world premiered The Sequence playing future Nobel Laureate, Francis Collins, and these are just the examples from my scripts. The quality of his work as an actor in an even broader panoply of plays —classic, modern or brand new (mine and others) — is legend. And I think it is safe to say that Bill never really changed his point of view from the one he espouses in these recordings. In other words, for all my high holy exhortation to become a better artist by first admitting he is one, Bill remained a great artist, and became an even greater one, simply by being Bill. Lesson learned: not all heroes and artists want to be heroes and artists— some don’t even believe in such things— and yet, somehow, art and heroism still happen.
So, with that, here’s some highlights, then the whole thing at the end if you’re interested:
Blowing smoke up Salyers’ shorts while simultaneously patronizing him
PAUL: I consider you to be as great an artist as I’ve ever met. I consider you… to…I consider that I need to learn things about my craft that you’ve already learned about yours. I’ve also– yeah! And I’m starting to, because you’ve worked at your craft. You’ve been pragmatic hands-on with your craft in a lot of different ways that I’m just starting to: I’m starting to write for television, you know. I’m starting to… write for hire.
BILL: Right.
PAUL: You know?
BILL: Right.
PAUL: Which you’ve been doing for a while. In fact, in some ways, you… that’s what you do is act for hire…. Except on projects like TUESDAY where you chose to do it because of– of whatever feelings you have for the work. Um… but I– but I think the one thing that I’ve always kind of instinctively known, whether it was because of my religions upbringing, or because of my attraction to art.
BILL: Mm-hm
PAUL: Because my attraction to art was one of a knight in shining armor. And we can talk about that too. Uh…I have revised my vision– but not completely on that. Um… I do think that artists are true heroes.
BILL: Hmm? (Maybe this is sort of a verbal shrug?)
PAUL: True heroes. That true artists are those people who um…. and I include that person who can make the exquisite phad tai, or… or the exquisite scotch, or, or can uh… well, we can talk about that maybe later, but– I feel like one of the things that– that you refuse to admit is that that which you do is beyond your control–
BILL: Mmm-hmm.
PAUL: To a certain extent. And you’re uncomfortable with that.
Devolving into faux-Jesse Jacksonism
PAUL: For many people– for the born-again Christians of the world– I would nothing but heartily convince them that there is nothing outside themselves.
(Bill laughs.)
PAUL: That that world which they have created is their own fucking fucked-up… vision of the world.
BILL: Yeah.
PAUL: And that that which they hate is themselves. And that which they love is a… sweetened aspect of themselves and that they have not left themselves.
BILL: Right.
PAUL: You… you I would encourage you to see the other aspect of the universe, and that is that you are constantly connected in a thousand million different ways to that which you feel unconnected to. And that that the– that the satellite– you’re either a satellite revolving around the sun or you are the revolution. You know?
BILL: Mmm.
PAUL: You know?
BILL: Mmm-hmm.
PAUL: And uh… not to sound like Jesse Jackson. Although that would be– Fuck, man. I should write for Jesse Jackson ‘cuz that’s great!
(Bill laughs.)
PAUL: That’s better than anything Jesse’s said in a long mother-fucking time.
(Bill laughs.)
PAUL: You’re either that which revolves around the sun, or (Jesse Voice) you are the revolution!
BILL: You’re right. That does sound like Jesse.
PAUL: Umm. Except it doesn’t rhyme. But it’s– it’s a little too sublime for Jesse. We’ll have to find some other demagogue for it. But– although I love– my heart goes out to Jesse. I can’t hate, Jesse. He’s fab– Did you hear his speech the last convention? It rocked.
Mullin lays an Irish curse on Salyers
PAUL: There’s– There’s this great Zen koan that I love. Says– the young monk comes to the master, and says, you know, “I’m meditating but I’m too cold.” And the Zen master says, “Well, you know when cold go to that place where you are so cold that it kills you and when you are hot go to that place where you are so hot that it kills you.” And I lay this Irish curse on you: “Live in that universe where there is no art. Be that universe where there is no art.”
BILL: Well, I think I’ve tried to. I mean, I–
PAUL: No, I mean it.
(Paul laughs.)
PAUL: NO, I MEAN IT!
(Paul laughs hysterically.)
BILL (drunken voice mockery of Paul): You don’t understand!
On whether an actor should ever argue a director down
BILL: This stuff about– this stuff about uh– nobody stops to think about the fact that there was a director involved in that show. It wasn’t just about what Steven wrote. It wasn’t just about what I did, you know? What I– when I’m– when I’m rending my hair, my fake hair, at an incredible point and I go, “RENFIELD!” That’s not necessarily my choice.
PAUL: Right.
BILL: That’s me doing what I was told the best way I could. And I’m–
PAUL: Right.
BILL: And I’m presented with the challenge of trying to find truth in that. Now a lot of actors would have argued Eddie down…. That’s not my job. It’s not my– it’s not my job to uh– promote myself–
PAUL: Is there ever a time when it’s right to argue a director down?
BILL: Yeah, when you’re the other director.
(Paul begins to groan very lowly. )
BILL: If you’re an actor your job is to do what you’re told as best as you possibly can.
PAUL: Wow! Okay! We come to the truth of it.
BILL: I’ve– I’ve long said that. If you want to direct a play go fucking direct a play.
PAUL: Well, wait a second. Wa-wa-wa-waaaiiit a second
BILL: Okay.
PAUL: Because I think it’s not as facile as that.
BILL: I think it should be. I think if you’re a craftsman it is.
PAUL: Ah well.
BILL: –And that’s why I’m not an artist.
PAUL: Hmmm.
BILL: I– I don’t have any patience for that crap. I mean, it’s another– it’s another– it’s another way that the film world has invaded what we do.
PAUL (overlapping): Well, here we go. Well, here we go is what I’m saying is like, yes, as the novice, rookie, bullshit actor who’s got a little taste of Stanislavsky, a bad taste via Mr. Uh– Strasberg.
BILL: Strasberg, yeah.
PAUL: Uh…. That’s the last thing they need to be doing is telling the director what their choices are. But let me tell you something about Mr. (slurry) Mr. Eddie Levi Lee, is that you know more about theatre in your fucking, you know, nose–
BILL: Then I, then I–
PAUL: Hair clippings than Eddie Levi Lee knows.
BILL: Okay, then if I– if I believe that going into it, I’m a hypocrite when I sign the contract. And I’m not a hypocrite… so I sign the contract.
PAUL: I– augh!
On whether an actor should ever refuse a line change from a director
PAUL: Billy, you’re saying– you’re saying to me that in no circumstances would it be right for you as one of the best actors that I know uh… to– to call bullshit on a director. That
BILL: I’m saying it’s not my job.
PAUL (overlapping): That fucking frightens me. No, it is your fucking job!
BILL: No, it’s not.
PAUL: Yes, it is your fucking jo–
BILL: I don’t agree with you.
PAUL (overlapping): I went to– John Sylvain came to me and said– I had a line that said, “I threw that pass–” now obviously this is an actor/playwright, a whole ‘nother issue.
BILL: I know the line you’re talking about, too.
PAUL: Yeah, said, “That fucking nigger dropped it.”
BILL (simultaneously): “That fucking nigger dropped it.”
PAUL: And Johnny said, “You need to cut that.” And I said, “You need to go fuck yourself, because one, it’s the night before opening, and two, it’s the fucking script, and THREE, it’s the way we rehearsed it.
BILL: Well, let me– let me tell you something. I’m not saying– don’t misunderstand me. In that same situation I would have asked John to keep the line. I wouldn’t have told John to go fuck himself, because John’s the director.
PAUL: No! No! No!. But see that’s where I digress with you, because John’s fucking with my shit there and he has no business doing it.
BILL: Brother, it’s not–
PAUL: And he deserves–
BILL: It isn’t your shit!
PAUL: Yes!
BILL: It’s our shit.
To follow is the full transcript of the second side of the cassette.
