In November, Kristin Huffman made her Broadway debut as Sarah (flute, piccolo and sax) in John Doyle's production of Company. The actress, with a new series of tales that go inside the making of Company from an actor's perspective, starting at the Cincinnati Playhouse and on to New York, continues her stories about a 15-year career that has led her to the door of the Ethel Barrymore Theatre.
This is the thirty-fourth story on the making of Company. If you haven't read the others, go back and do so and then rejoin us here!
I only have one more Company story left. (Actually there were a few I didn't post, and will save for the book) But before the very last one, I wanted to share with you the very first one that is the most personal. You've taken the 'journey' with me, so you should know how I think it all actually started.
Also! I will be doing a special cabaret in New Haven CT at a venue called Zinc, in their cabaret room called Chow, on Thurday, February 14 at 7PM and 9PM. I am titling it "Lovesongs? an offbeat look at Valentine's Day." Come for a fun and funny night. I understand it's selling out! Call 203-772-3002 www.Zincfood.com for reservations and directions. I am donating all my proceeds to the West Haven Animal shelter.
RETROSPECTIVE: SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
My grandmother died at 104 years old in October 2004. We lovingly called her Drammie, and she was raring to go almost till the day she died. Because she had always wanted to be an actress, but realized that it was not the 'proper' thing to do in the 1920s, she married a lawyer and raised sons. One of them was my father. Later, when a granddaughter was born who decided that being an actress in the 1990s was the proper thing to do, Drammie got the chance to live through some of my own adventures.
Whenever I saw my grandmother she would give me words of advice regarding my career. "Be sure you wear something that is tight enough on your figure" and "Tell them you play the flute" The first bit of advice I could usually follow, but the second I tried to deflect. In the musical theatre world it's nice to have some 'special skills' like flute playing and kayaking that you list at the bottom of your resume, but you don't usually blurt that out at the end of an audition.
During my stint as Miss Ohio, Drammie could not have been more proud. She was 90 at the time, but made the trip to Atlantic City with the rest of my clan. When I was 'only' awarded a runner-up to Miss America my mother turned to Drammie and said, "Isn't that great, she got runner-up?" and my Grandmother said, "How can you be philosophical at a time like this? I'm mad as hell!" Of course she had been the only grandmother praying that her granddaughter would win Miss America. So convinced was she of this that she stayed mad at God for a whole year. We thought at 90 years old she ought to make up pretty soon, but how were we to know she would live 14 more years?
It became obvious toward the very end of her life that she was not going to pull through like we always expected her to so I flew back to Ohio to see her. And sing for her. When I visited her in her hospital room she had her eyes closed, but knew I was there. I sang a half-hour concert of all her favorite hymns for her, sometimes in duet with my mother. At one point my mother left us alone and I leaned over very close to Drammie's ear and said, "Drammie, maybe the distance between Atlantic City and God was too far, but you are going to be right there now. Could you just whisper my Broadway desires in God's ear once you are there?"
Interestingly enough, the month after she died John Doyle came back to New York advertising for actors/singers who played instruments. The show was called Company. This show wanted my type. My instruments. And it would debut in Ohio. Where my grandmother just died, my parents still live and whom I could visit on all my days off from rehearsals. It would eventually go to Broadway.
Now I truly don't know how it all works when you die. But I find it highly interesting and even inspiring to think that my Drammie might have had something to do with my getting this show. It has certainly been the best theatre experience of my life and one in which I have gotten to include my family. Exactly what she would have wanted. I shared this story with John when we finally got to Cincinnati and he never once laughed at me for thinking that it was Drammie who helped me get hired.
I also have a real piece of my grandmother on stage with me every night so that she can participate the way she wanted to, as an actress. I wear her bracelet on my arm. Normally you are not allowed to wear your own jewelry, but after I told Annie, the costume designer, my story, she said it was fine for me to wear this little bracelet. You will see it in the PBS version of our show on February 20 on my right arm if you look closely.
I have thought about my grandmother's advice as to my flute playing in winning an audition. Was this merely an interesting coincidence or might it be some kind of omen. Is this woman who died at 104 years of age still hoping and praying for my success?
Because, I need all the help I can get.
Photos: Kristin Huffman's grandmother "Drammie" and Kristin Huffman (photo by Joan Marcus)
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