Actors get a pretty bad rap for being fussy, self-centered, bloviating blowhards who want only brown M&M’s or no brown M&M’s or maybe not M&M’s at all but Skittles instead. Sheesh, such trouble. But when you find the right one to be a part of your new theater company, one who embraces the idea of doing plays to help the Alameda Food Bank and is willing to play any part, large or small, for no pay, in the rustic glory of the Healing Garden (honk, honk go the cars passing by on Webster Street) supplying her own costume, and biking to rehearsals and shows because it’s what we all should be doing, that actor you hold onto and celebrate.
Lisa Appleyard was in the Foodbank Players’ first play and immediately showed her amazing talent and magnificent mettle. We had to replace her co-star with 10 days to go—some dude went on holding his script, we lost a weekend of shows due to bad air, and she had to play the villain opposite an adorable talking dog. But she was so good, and then so good again in Hamlet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream and the upcoming Macbeth. Enough from me, here is the thespian sublime, with answers to 5Q4 Lisa Appleyard.
At what moment did you discover that you wanted to be an artist?
I think the first time I realized that being a performer was a possibility was when I saw Annie for the first time in San Francisco. I was five or six years old. Seeing myself in those girls—singing, dancing, playing make believe. They got to do all of my favorite things with everyone watching. What could be better? So I learned the whole score and even directed my friends in our own version. The moment that really solidified my love of performing, though, came in second grade when I sang “Tomorrow” from Annie in the school talent show. That feeling of filling the multi-purpose room with my voice while the rest of the room was taking in my story—there’s nothing like it and I was hooked!
Who was the most influential person who helped you achieve your goal?
There have been a number of directors and teachers along the way who cast me and believed in me, but it has to honestly be my Mom. (She is not a performer, but she is an artist in her own right, making a business of selling her crafts and quilts to this day.) She sang with me from the beginning. There are recordings of us singing “Que Sera” and “Bushel and a Peck” when I couldn’t have been more than two years old. We had a player piano that I sang to when she was too busy to accompany me, and my parents gave me their record collection—I sang along on repeat—which included Ella, Frank, Doris, and Sammy. My Mom took me to see all kinds of performances, from concerts to the ballet and of course the theater. It was she who encouraged me to take tap at age six and traveled to New York with me for many Broadway experiences in the ’90s. She still sees almost everything I do.
Tell about the best—or a best—experience you had as a performer.
So many choices. Sharing the stage with my son, playing the title role in Gypsy, and tap dancing in Herald Square are all highlights, but the best acting experience has to have been in The Savannah Sipping Society at the Altarena about seven or eight years ago. The script is so well written, we had a tremendous set to play upon, and the all-female team was a joy to work with. The four of us who got to inhabit those vulnerable and yet ultimately strong southern women had chemistry that was both real and magical at the same time. I knew exactly who I was and exactly what I was doing at every moment in that piece. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But would it be the same? Even if Kimberly, Julia, Sally, and I came together again, I’m not sure. Theater is often so dependent on a moment in time.
Conversely, tell us about a pretty bad experience.
Bad experiences are few and far between. I could talk about catty backstage behaviors, or feeling lost in the ensemble, or even times when things felt dangerous, but instead I’m talking about the time I was in a production of The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade with the Thrillpeddlers in San Francisco. I loved working with this company and had done so on many projects, and this was a fantastic production. Why was it the worst? Well, because I was cast as Mme. Coulmier, the wife of the asylum’s director. Each night I got into a very elaborate Marie Antoinette-esque gown and wig only to sit in a chair down stage left and watch the entire thing. Sitting still for me is difficult to begin with. I like to move. So being left out of all the craziness onstage was excruciating. I wanted to play with my friends. At the very end each night, when the inmates rioted, I did get to run away through the house to what must have been Mme. Coulmier’s inevitable death. So that was something to look forward to.
Any advice to folks out there hoping to pursue a life in the arts?
Always “shoot your shot.” Don’t be afraid to go for what you want. Audition for a role you’re not sure you’re capable of, because you probably are. Make bold choices. Your director would appreciate having to pull you back rather than having to pull a performance out of you. If you’ve wanted to try acting but have been hesitant, for whatever reason, try something. A class, an open mic, a local company’s auditions. A friend of mine has a tattoo that says, “To begin, begin.” That’s what I’m trying to say.
All photos provided by Lisa Appleyard.
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players, a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane.
