GAMECOCK DIARIES, PART SEVEN: Why, Oh Why, Iago?

another entry in the occasional series describing my adventures pursuing my MFA

This is the only photographic evidence I have uncovered that proves I did, indeed, play studly leading man Cassio in Othello. Or at least, I tried to play him; I was not very successful.  I blame the mullet.

It's been pointed out to me that my last entry in this series was over three years ago, and how the hell long does it take to write about a couple of years in a guy's life? I really do want to complete this series, I've just been lazy about doing so. I started writing these memories <ahem> a few years ago, and if you're interested, you can read all the installments, in reverse chronological order (that is, the newer stuff will come up first), by going here.

This is the Dance Instructor in USC's original production of The Emperor's New Clothes. I performed in this children's show simultaneously with playing Moonface Martin in Anything Goes. That same summer, I taught at the USC summer conservatory for kids,  studied for and passed my comps (a year early), and completed the first draft of my MFA thesis (two years early). I was cookin' with gas.

The most recent entry covered my adventures in the summer of 1994, after which I was pooped but proud. As I headed into my second year of my MFA training, I was feeling pretty confident. So confident, in fact, that I inadvertently made a huge blunder before the fall semester even began. 

The first show of the season, which went into rehearsal weeks before classes actually started, was Hot L Baltimore, a Lanford Wilson relic which I did not like. I had seen only one production of the show, directed years earlier by my former acting coach and mentor Bobbi (I wrote about her influence on my life here), and I didn't like it then either. Having completed the exhausting summer I described here, I really did not want to leap into rehearsal for a show I didn't like. When the director, Ann Dreher, dropped a note in my mailbox asking which role I would be interested in playing, I made a big mistake. I responded that I would prefer not to do the show and could I be excused from playing in it? This was a request which was fairly out-of-line for USC's Acting grad students; we had been enrolled, after all, to perform in whatever play the faculty placed us in, we were not really supposed to pick and choose our own roles. The department had been roiled in this question of student control only months earlier, when several grad students refused to participate in the winter production of Measure for Measure (I wrote about that controversy here).  Now here was another grad student asking to be released from his commitment to the department's next show. I fully expected Ann to refuse my request, but when the cast was announced, I was not in it. I felt a weight off my shoulders, realizing that, for the first time since I arrived on campus a year earlier, I would not be in rehearsal (at least, for a month or so). What I did not realize was that Ann had taken my request very, very personally, and not only did she release me from Hot L Baltimore, she refused to cast me in anything else she was to direct. I did not know of her sudden animosity for many months, since Ann taught only undergraduate students, and mostly non-majors, so I did not cross paths with her during my daily life.

It was very disturbing to find out, the following spring, that the quirky and outspoken teacher whom everyone loved had revealed herself, at least to me, to be petty and vindictive. But that's a story for a future entry.

I'm not bitter about any of that these days, as I'm sure you can tell.  At the time, all of that trauma was in the future, so I began the semester fairly light-hearted. My academic load was greatly reduced from my first year; I had already taken the two semesters of Theatre History my degree required, so I was now at liberty to choose my own academic classes. 

It will surprise no one that I aced my Musical Theatre History class. I wrote term papers on Sondheim, Michael Bennett, and George Abbott, all without research.

My friend and mentor Jim Patterson was teaching his History of Musical Theatre, so I enrolled in that fascinating class. I was also teaching the undergrads Beginning Acting and Speech & Diction; one of the reasons USC could afford to give their grad students a generous assistantship was the fact that we were used as teachers for undergraduate students. We taught undergrads in the morning, and took our own classes in the afternoon.

Now that I had ducked performing in Hot L Baltimore, I was slated to perform in two other main stage shows that semester:  Eastern Standard by Richard Greenberg and Othello by you know whom. Othello was slated first, and was to be directed by our newest faculty hire, a young(ish) fellow named David. I don't remember his last name.

This is a very typical look of David's, who was usually involved in an intense conversation with someone. I would have liked to have had one of those convos regarding his miscasting of me in his show.

I didn't have fun in Othello, but
as the title role, Elliot sure did. 
He played the role again in
regional theater a few years
later.

Othello was not one of the highlights of my USC career. I had been cast as Cassio, who is basically the young leading man of the piece, a man of honor whose life is upended when he is manipulated by the villainous Iago into appearing to be Desdemona's lover.

Mullets get a bad rap, but mine was the best
part of my performance as Cassio.

Nobody in their right mind would ever cast me as such a character, but in the spirit of "grad school is your time to stretch your boundaries and explore roles you may not play in the real world," I tried my best.  It was not easy, particularly when I had desired to play Iago to begin with. I don't recall any audition readings being held for this show, at least for the grad students, and I was disappointed to learn that one of the new arrivals in the program would be playing one of the juiciest parts in all of Shakespeare. 

These folks were all in the class ahead of me, 
and became close friends, but after my first
year, they disappeared into their internships.

Before the semester got underway, I had had to say goodbye to my good friends who were in the USC class ahead of me; it was the third year of their program, so they went off to their internships. Meanwhile, five new actors arrived in the class behind me, and one of those upstarts had somehow snagged my part in Othello. 

This is the MFA class behind mine, so they joined
me for my second year. I'll introduce them later,
but for now I'll say, only 4 of them ended up in
Othello.

I don't remember the guy's name who was cast as Iago, so I'll call him Fred. Fred was a personable guy with leading man looks which, I thought, suited my role of Cassio much more than the dark Iago. I really had no idea why this clown was playing Iago, and it turned out, he shouldn't have been. 

"Fred" arrived at the first rehearsal for
Othello not having read the play.

Fred turned out to be a flake, in terms of responsibility, which was apparent at our first rehearsal of Othello. At that first read around the table, before reading the text aloud, director David asked each actor to tell the story of the play from our character's point of view. This was a great exercise, I give credit to David for that. We all had fun tracking our characters' story arc within the play, then it came to be Fred's turn. He was very vague and non-specific, it was apparent that he had not even read the play yet. This joker had been handed one of the greatest roles in the Shakespearean canon (and one of the biggest), and had done zero preparation for the first rehearsal. Turns out he had done zero preparation for all his classes, too, as in the next week or so, he was not only removed from the Othello cast, he was booted from the entire MFA program.

Mindi was wonderful as our Desdemona, Nan
played our cross-gendered Duke.

A major postponement was announced. The USC production of Othello would now be produced after Christmas, during the following semester. The only explanation from the administration was that there was a "scheduling problem" resulting in the change. That was true enough, though the scheduling problem had to do with the actor who was hired to replace Fred as Iago.

Bob Hungerford was an established professional
actor in Columbia. USC hired him to play Iago, and
he was a great one. 

Rather than shuffling the MFA actors around (and perhaps giving me the chance to audition for this dream role), the department went outside USC and hired an older professional actor to play Iago.  Bob Hungerford had a strong reputation among the actors in Columbia, SC, so I assume USC wanted him so badly that they rescheduled Othello to accommodate him.

My classmate Bodde (rhymes
with OK) played Emilia
(Mrs. Iago). 

I don't remember a lot about the actual performances of our Othello when it finally ran in January, 1995. I had a pretty fun scene playing Cassio getting drunk, but my other scenes are a blank.

Mindi had a birthday during our run. Here she's over the moon for my gift, a Wizard of Oz sweatshirt. Or rather, she's over the rainbow for it.

As I said before, I was not successful playing the romantic leading man, and the Columbia press agreed. One of the local critics, a gent who was exceedingly complimentary of my other roles played during my two years on campus, subtly wrote "R. Scott Williams is not cast into his strengths."  Ya' Think? 

(I am making a promise to myself that I will continue these memories of grad school until their conclusion. And I will not let another three years go by, for heaven's sake. Next Up: I am cast in one of my most successful and meaningful roles, in Eastern Standard, and I take a flying leap off a very high cliff with the agony and the ecstasy of a one-man show.)