Side Man
May 5-28, 2000
The Guthrie Lab
Minneapolis, Minnesota

Starring
Clifford... Jim Lichtscheidl
Terry... Stephanie Zimbalist
Patsy... Kelly Bertenshaw
Gene... Frank Deal
Al... Stephen Pelinski
Ziggy... Richard S. Iglewski
Jonesy... Stephen Yoakam
 

To Capture A Faded Subculture

Everyone asks, "It it autobiographical?" and I always say, "Autobiographical enough."  My father was a professional trumpet player for over 50 years.  Most of the adults I knew, as a kid, were either refugees from the jazz world or struggling participants.

I had never seen the world of these guys written about by anyone who had a clue.  All of the movies seemed to consist of guys saying, "Hey cat, you dig?" or "Gone daddyo."  I felt I could do better.  But somehow I hadn't.  I avoided writing Side Man for 20 years.

During that time, I made my living as a writer for hire: comedies, documentaries, industrials, cabaret acts, articles, humor books, and just about every other kind of writing that paid.  Without realizing it, I had become, like my father, a sideman.  I had internalized what he used to tell me on his way to a bad club date.  "I play as good as they let me."

When I finally sat down to write the story of my parents' world, I had gained a little perspective and shed a little anger.  I tried to capture the way musicians talk, and think, and don't think.  I tried to capture a faded subculture of late nights and bus tours and club dates and hard language and sweet music.

I also knew no one would ever produce my play.  To be an aspiring playwright in this era is about as dim a choice as it was to be a jazz musician after Elvis.  So I was fired up.  Liberated.  I wrote as close to the world as I could, and I made the characters and their lives as specific and "real" as I could.

The surprise has been that because I didn't try to make the play "universal," it seems to have struck a chord, first with actors (who understand this world viscerally) and then with audiences.  Every week I hear from someone who tells me, "That's my father in your play."  When I ask, "What instrument did he play?" I'm told, "Oh he wasn't a musician, he was a stockbroker (or a doctor or an accountant).  He was usually at work, but even when he was at home, he wasn't home."

If Side Man tells the story of these men, and their music, it also tries to depict the pain of family: the silences, the shouting, the secrets, the choices parents make, and the effects of those choices.

It also says, I hope, that no one's path is easy; and when you look to blame others for what was done to you, you find their paths were no easier than yours.

I am very flattered to have Side Man produced at the Guthrie, and I thank those involved for their grace and talent.

Warren Leight