Huron

"PLAY BAWWWWW!"

-- Philip Roth, The Great American Novel

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Brigadoon opens in a week minus one day. It's odd to be in the show again, in a different place, with different folks, from a completely different perspective. I'm a sword dancer, which fulfills for me some small dancer fantasy, and at the end of "The Chase," I and one other first-tenor sing a high C. Which, he said sheepishly, I really kind of love.

The Mousetrap, a murder mystery by Agatha Christie, opens in two weeks minus one day. I'm Paravicini, a scuzzy Italian stranger who tries to have an amour with the matron of the house. Tune in to see whether I'm the culprit or not...

And in Honk, opening in three weeks minus one day, I have been given a brief but fun cameo as a mandarin duck with "Oriental charm" which is referred to in the opening number but whose role was created for this--and this only, folks--production, at the wonderful Huron Playhouse, where everything is possible if you believe. (He said, once again, sheepishly.)

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Strange magic of late, as well. Along with swarmsy Scottish brogues and putting slashes in scripts, the world has looked awfully lovely lately. (That's three words with the -ly tail, ladies and gents, and don't judge me.)