He'd come'n tell me everything's alright...

Upon announcing my chosen career and college, my parents started an attack. Their main premise was the impracticality of the acting profession. “What are you going to do after school?” and “How do you plan on supporting yourself?” were their basic questions. But it didn’t stop with them. My entire family joined in on the attack. I defended myself as best I could, giving examples of what can be done after college is finished and what actors do when they are between shows to sustain themselves, monetarily. My parents continued their persecution by constantly reminding me of how difficult it would be to get into a show, quoting statistics and the whole rigmarole. I firmly held my ground, never showing them the “white flag of battle” signaling I had been overtaken by their barrage of arguments.

I became acquainted with Frederick in college. And he became an inspiration to me.

Frederick was the son of a preacher. His father did not approve of theatre or actors. Frederick became friends with an actor named James after seeing him perform in Shakespeare’s Othello. Inspiration.

As a teenager of fifteen, one year after Othello, Frederick’s father allowed him to pay the part of Rollo in Sheridan’s Pizarro. Pizarro was about a Peruvian Inca leader who tried to defend his people from the invading Spaniards. Little did his father know that Frederick’s career was under way. He played Shakespearian during the day, and at night did clown roles. He also held a backstage job at the Chatham Theatre, to observe acting more closely.

Frederick’s father, a pastor of the Zion Chapel, being against theatre, sent Frederick to the University of Glasgow for an education. He didn’t stay long. Desiring an acting career he left the university.

Frederick’s friends persuaded him that his only chance for success lay in his immigrating to England. Frederick went across the Atlantic. After much difficulty, he got his first job in a London East End theatre.  His first European part was in The Revolt of Surinam at the Coburg Theatre. He was successful. From Coburg to London’s Sadler’s Wells, Frederick took all the acting opportunities he could.

Besides his realistic acting style and impassioned way he spoke Frederick also had a fine singing voice. His comedic skills could only top all of that. He was well able to move an audience to tears one night and laughter another. It was his style and versatility which won him a following among the patrons of the East End Theatres.

On April 10 it happened. Frederick made his debut at the Royal Theatre in London. His part was Othello. He was a smashing success.  In addition to Othello, Frederick added the parts of King Lear, Macbeth and Shylock to his repertoire. He also performed in Titus Andronicus.

Frederick began to tour the British Isles, playing their principal theatres.

After years of playing in England, he launched his first tour of Europe. In Dublin, Ireland Frederick played in Othello and was a smashing success. Call it the power of God, or fate or what you will, but a very famous British actor was at Frederick’s performance in Dublin. Fredrick was asked to play Othello to his Iago. The duo was a success and toured for two years. Audiences greeted him with acclaim and the papers showered him with praise where ever he went.

It’s audition season once again. And once again I go through what every actor goes through: deciding which audition to go to and what material to use to target a particular role. But for me it’s a little different than for some actors.

I was at one audition, waiting patiently in the holding room for my turn when I overheard two fellow performers discussing auditions...

     Guy: I saw Beautiful [a new Broadway show]. I loved it.

     Girl: The Carol King musical?

     Guy: Yeah.

     Girl: There are auditions coming up. Are there any dancers in it?

     Guy: Yeah but they’re all black.

     Girl: Did they do that on purpose?

I wish I could say this way of thinking is isolated. But it’s not. Every audition I go to I have to think not only about what my roles my talent can support but which roles have the possibility of being cast with an ethnic person. I mean we all, as performers, have our limitations and crosses to bare. However few can compare to the visage of one’s skin color.

My racial make-up being a hindrance to a theatre career was one argument I could never battle with my parents about. They knew and drilled it into me how much more difficult, even impossible pursuing Acting would be for me, a mixed race child.

And then I somehow came across Frederick.

Frederick was the subject of my senior thesis. The beginning of the blog is an excerpt from the thesis, edited down. A few pertinent facts were left out. Below is an excerpt with those facts intact:

Before the Civil war in 1863, it’s no uncommon fact that a big majority of the blacks who lived in the United States were slaves, personal property of their white masters. It was during this century, almost one hundred years of racial slavery, emotional turmoil and the succession of states from the Union, in which lived probably one of the greatest Negro Tragedians—Ira Frederick Aldridge.

In perspective, one must realize that the “Afro-American” was only first introduced to the American stage in 1769. A piece entitled The Paddock featured a West Indian slave, Mungo, “who played a profane clown of little authenticity-not a joyful, happy-go-lucky clown, but a nonsensical embecile without poise.” In 1786, Robinson Crusoe and Harlequin opened. These shows also associated the black with the same negative characteristics.

Aldridge was born to a free black family on July 24, 1807. Ira was the son of a straw vendor-preacher. His father did not approve of theatre or actors.

Fortunately for Ira, the first Negro drama group, the African Company, a semi-professional group which gave performances of Shakespeare and other classics, was nearby. Their performance site was located in a ramshackled building called “The African Grove,” which was located at the corner of “Bleeker and Mercer Streets in lower New York.” It was here that the first Negro Othello, James Hewlett, performed in 1821.

The audiences for “The Grove” were largely black. The “National Advocated” reported the management of The Grove “had graciously made a partition at the back of the house for the accommodation of whites.” In actuality, white hoodlums, a product of their times who came to laugh and jeer, forced the management to take action to protect their actors. It was these hoodlums that eventually forced the closing of “The Grove,” but not before it could inspire young Ira to become an actor. After viewing a performance of James Hewlett’s at “The Grove,” Ira Aldridge became friends with him

As a teenager of fifteen (1822), one year after Hewlett’s Othello, Ira’s father allowed him to pay the part of Rollo in Sheridan’s Pizarro. Pizarro was about a Peruvian Inca leader who tried to defend his people from the invading Spaniards. The show was produced privately with an all black amateur cast.

Ira Aldridge’s career was under way. He played Shakespearian leads at “The Grove” during the day, but at night “did clown roles on the uptown stage.” He also held a backstage job at the “white” Chatham Theatre, to observe acting more closely.

Ira’s father, a pastor of the black Zion Chapel, being against theatre, sent Ira to the University of Glasgow for an education. He did not stay long. Desiring an acting career Ira left the university.

Ira’s friends persuaded him that American prejudice against blacks was too great for him to overcome. Ira’s only chance for success lay in his immigrating to England. So Ira went across the Atlantic. There he found that same racial prejudice that he had left behind in America had swam the length of the ocean to meet him in England. After the “journey,” however, the prejudice seemed not to be so strong. After much difficulty, Ira Aldridge got his first job in a London East End theatre.  His first European part was in The Revolt of Surinam at the Coburg Theatre. He was successful. From Coburg to London’s Sadler’s Wells, Ira took all the acting opportunities he could.

Almost all of Ira Aldridge’s first roles cast him as a black struggling for freedom, either for himself or his people. Billed as “Mr. Keane, Tragedian of Colour,” Ira acted in The Slave, The Negroes Curse, The Death of Christophe, King of Hayti, and a comic-musical play entitled Padlock to add variety and to demonstrate versatility.”  Besides his “realistic acting style, freedom from stilted posturings and natural but impassioned way he spoke rather than declaimed,” Ira Aldridge also had a fine singing voice. His comedic skills could only top all of that. Ira was well able to move an audience to tears one night and laughter another, “to turn with ease from the Moor of Venice to a farce like The Paddock. It was Ira’s style and versatility which won him a following among the patrons of the East End Theatres, but prejudice was still too strong in London’s West End.

Ira settled in England and then became naturalized. He took a wife, an English woman named Margaret.

On April 10 1833 it happened. Ira Aldridge had his debut at the Royal Theatre in London. His part was Othello. He was a smashing success.  In addition to Othello, Aldridge added the parts of King Lear, Macbeth and Shylock to his repertoire, He also performed in Titus Andronicus. Aldridge managed to play these parts, because his make-up included white face.

At this time Ira began to tour the British Isles, playing their principal theatres, and dropping the name of “Keane”. He was then billed as “Ira Aldridge, the African Roscius,” after Quintus Roscius Gallus, a famous slave-actor in ancient Rome. “That’s how far back they (the public) had to go to find another black man who’d had such a sensational impact on theatre.”

After twenty-five years of playing in England, in 1852, he launched his first tour of Europe. Ira Aldridge could not escape racism. In Dublin, Ireland Aldridge was banned form the stage until he could talk the theatre manager into producing a limited engagement of Othello. Aldridge succeeded and again was a smashing success. Call it the power of God, or fate or what you will, but Edmund Kean, famed “white” British actor, was at Aldridge’s performance in Dublin. Aldridge was asked to play Othello to Kean’s Iago. The duo was a success and toured for two years.

“The African Roscius” continued to tour. He performed in English while local actors spoke their native tongue. What endeared him to the populace was the fact that he sometimes “interpolated into his performance folk songs in the language of whatever country he might be appearing.” Aldridge elicited a great response in Belgium, Germany, Austria and Switzerland, and later included Poland, Russia and Sweden to his list of conquerings. His wife Margaret died in 1858. It was during his Swedish tour when he met Swedish opera singer Countess Amanda Pauline Brandt and married her. This was exemplary of the elite circles Aldridge traveled in. His friend included Hans Christian Anderson, who, inspired by Aldridge, wrote The Mulatto, and Jenny Lind, the “Swedish Nightingale.” Aldridge was also an intimate friend of Alexandre Dumas, the half-black author of The three Musketeers.

My parents instilled in me a sense of judging a man by his deeds rather than by his skin. They’ve done an incredible job of raising a son.  I find it frustrating and maddening that 150 years later prejudice in theatre hasn’t changed much. Sure there are more opportunities for ethnics now then in Ira’s day. But it’s far from equitable. For every ten chorus boys in a Broadway show there is one contract for an ethnic male.

Once bitten by the acting bug no argument my parents could come up with would dissuade me from conquering my dreams. Ira was the same. Yet in the face of insurmountable odds for thirty years audience greeted Ira Aldridge with acclaim and the papers showed him with praise. In Moscow students unhitched Ira’s horses and physically pulled him, wagon and all, to his hotel. He was a member of several learned societies in Sweden. The King of Prussia awarded him with the “Order of Chevalier”; the Czar of Russia presented him with the “Cross of Leopold. He was knighted by the Royal House of Saxony. He then penned his name “Chevalier Ira Aldridge, Knight of Saxony.”

When slavery was abolished at the end of the Civil War, Aldridge began planning an American tour, “delighted at the fact of returning in triumph to the land of his birth.” Before the arrangements were completed, Ira took ill. He died on August 7^th, 1867 in Lodz, Poland.

Ira’s grave is still cared for today by the “Society of Polish Artists of Film and Theatre.” There is an “Ira Aldridge Society” in the United States, whose main goal is the “cultural cooperation of all colors and creeds.”

In England, visitors to Stratford-upon-Avon can see thirty-three seats in that theatre bearing bronze plates dedicated to the great actors in world drama. “One of these is inscribed simply: IRA ALDRIDGE.”

The title of my senoir thesis: “In search of a chair like his.”

In order to succeed one has to put aside other’s preconceived notions about the face of theatre and what that literal face looks like. So if you’re perceived to be fat or old or ethnic or short or any other thing that is seen as a liability in Show Business cast it aside. Audition for what your talent is right for, regardless of what physical limitations have been superimposed upon a piece. In doing so however be prepared for heartache, heart break and soul debilitating depression.

But do it anyway.

Seek out the people behind the tables who appreciate you for what your talents have to offer a production, rather than just being a warm body on stage. It will take time and perseverance.  You will be bucking the system, not to mention some major casting people. The payoff will come and it will be amazing. I know because it’s happened to me.  (More on that in another blog)

I found someone to aspire to, someone who faced the same obstacles that I do and worse, 150 years ago, and triumphed. I plan on succeeding just like Ira Frederick Aldridge did. I’m thankful for all I’ve learned and done thus far. And I’m ready for more.

Now it’s my turn to help and teach and lead. So I offer this to you...

Go out and find someone who has faced the same demons you face in Show Business, hell in Life, and triumphed. Aspire to conquer those demons just like he or she did, instead of being cursed by them. A Jewish female colleague of mine, Sarah, uses Fanny Brice as her muse. (If you don't know Fanny Brice google her) She sings Fanny's songs  and songs about her for auditions . She's even gone as far as to write a one woman show starring, you guessed it, herself. Incredible.

Sometimes my parents would tell me "Do as I say, not as I do." But we all know children learn best by example.

...The only one who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man.