The Journals of Spalding Gray
Page 11
[San Francisco; Shafransky has returned to New York]
Getting into the same routine now, working on the writing in the morning until too painful stiff to move and then started a tape to Renée out in the sun which was not so bright but warm enough, then for my shopping, walk down to Mission St. bought one trout at the fish store for $1.59, so light and delicate, I could eat them every night. My little nap in the afternoon. I was feeling a little lonely and missed Renée and admit the need of a “love” also was brought down by Bay Guardian review saying “Sex & Death” was not fresh material but it’s true. Looked at the list of names [of people coming to the show] and saw Shepard, made joke that it was Sam and it turned out to be true so I sort of did the show for him. It got me thinking of old TOOTH [The Tooth of Crime] days and how close the material was. He sat center and I avoided looking at him most of the time. Often his eyes seemed to be closed with a slight smile on his face but it gives me good energy. I went with Adele and Ted to the Powell Grill to drink with Sam. It was good talking with him, serious Western Male that he was with son named Jesse of course. Ted and Adele left at 11 and Sam and I went on drinking and talking about writing, New York, Hollywood, Bob Dylan, Joyce Aaron, Boroughs [William Burroughs] = weak and dissident. Sam the moral Western man with two horses and a leather jacket and cowboy hat on the seat of his truck car. We drank Anchor Steam till 1:15, he put it on his credit card.
OCTOBER 27, 1980
[Back in New York]
Watching Renée get up, seeing her as beautiful and sexy and yes, I think yes, it’s all connected. First woman I think would look good pregnant with my child (FEAR) and off I went to get my stuff and head up for R.I. [where he would perform Sex and Death]. It was a beautiful day. Dad and Sis were at the train station to meet me. I was surprised to be happy to see them and of course talked my head off in my nervous way. They wanted to know who my “new friend” was and what had become of Liz. Sis saying something at dinner about Liz having run my life for long enough. Me wondering how dad and sis had picked up on that. “Well, she never waited on you,” was their response (but I tried to make her “WAIT”).
OCTOBER 28, 1980
[Rhode Island]
Got up late and was a little rushed by dad to get over to see Gram Gray before eleven. She was very surprised to see me and I think she thought I was Chan at first. She had a lot of problems with phlegm and could not hardly talk and kept choking up her V8 juice saying “I hate myself,” then she’d ask for her “little candy” Fig Newton’s, which she said were her only joy and she kept eating them and choking on them. Dad wanted to go so I said to go along and I’d stay because Gram started to cry when I got up to go. I sat with her. There was not much to be said because she could not hear me and she could not talk well. I put her sweater on her and felt her old flesh and bone arms which felt good they were soft and still very strong. They had a kind of beauty to them like an old tree.
OCTOBER 31, 1980
Up around seven, could not sleep, all geared up I guess from the performance. Had breakfast and got down to Gram Horton’s about 11:15. Felt agitated and bothered by her constant insults of my work but got more relaxed after asking her about her life. She looks very old now, hard for me to look at her mouth and she is nervous because she has lost her faith from creeping doubt and insists it is her fault. So strange to see this active guilt at 90 almost like it gives her energy, something to fight with, to come up against. She showed me pictures of her 90th birthday and I felt faint and a little sick. Everyone looked so old. We had a nice lunch of beans, rolls and breaded oysters, trying to avoid topics of old age and death, then I left and drove down to the river. Everything seemed so small and in no way a threatening reality like as a child when I knew it as the only world. It felt like an acid trip.
NOVEMBER 10, 1980
[Back in New York]
Stopped to have my palm read on Bleecker Street. Long life, not much money, travel this year and three children, two boys and a girl. Cold night, nice to be in heated cozy loft, three beers and sitting, doing a little writing on book, short talk with Willem and Liz and to bed early. Beginning to read [Virginia Woolf’s] The Waves again: “Everybody seems to be doing things for this moment only; and never again. Never again. The urgency of it all is fearful.” It was good for me to be alone again. Come back to myself as CENTER.
NOVEMBER 19, 1980
Renée having trouble with her feet and is afraid she may need an operation plus more anxious talk about where we will end up this summer. We talked about looking to rent something cheap Upstate so we both could come in for unemployment and maybe I could keep it into the fall. We both want to be in one spot but I think she is worried about getting bored and not being around her friends. I think that I am longing to get in a place where I can write as a habit, I don’t know. When we talk like this I see little future in our relationship together but I am writing a lot now and it gives me pleasure, also going through crazy regrets about why I did not go into movies and trying to get a clearer view of how I was in the early 70’s and how I thought. This should feed into a History of Theatre. To bed alone.
NOVEMBER 26, 1980
Worked on a poem “Coming down from Berkeley Heights” which I really like sections of. It seems to me that I’m going through another crisis and that one creative way to follow it through is to stay with the poems. The book [the novel The Father of Myself] will come when it comes. I must slow down on the drinking.
A small audience but good I did it [A Personal History of the American Theater] as a relaxed show. Ken was there and very encouraging. He liked the name cards [with the titles of various plays that Gray had acted in throughout his life] and the way the stories played off the names. Back to the loft to drink four beers and feel so sorry for myself. I kept crying like the old hypoglycemia days. Wrote crazy passages and read about Freud in New Yorker—free association—don’t sense or hold anything back. I wrote, “I am crying, look at me mom, I am crying” should be juxtaposed with “look at me mom” in the water—need for audience to prove to myself that I exist! “Look look over here” see me go to bed DRUNK and crying. SEE me weep for all HUMANITY.
From November 28, 1980, until February 8, 1981, the Wooster Group performed Point Judith (An Epilog) at the Performing Garage.
DECEMBER 7, 1980
Old Sunday, down day. Always miss Liz on Sundays and can’t get around it. Renée and I go out to Market Diner and talk of Liz and what to do. She says I am still involved and she is right. I suggest that Liz and I go into therapy. Renée says you only do that when you want to get back together again. She says I have to propose that to Liz or break it off. I feel that it does not have to be so black and white. Liz and I are who we are and we are different. My biggest fear is that Renée will soon demand that I live with her and I don’t know what I will do in that case because I don’t want to leave the loft and I know she won’t move in with me which I could swing if I had a studio and moving in would soon mean children. [Gray and Shafransky would discuss moving in together for several years before actually doing it.]
DECEMBER 8, 1980
Around midnight, just as I was grinding down to Wallace Stevens, Renée called to tell me that John Lennon had been shot and killed. I was surprised she was not more upset. I did not know how to talk about it and I heard Liz in the bathroom and said hold it and opened the door a crack to tell her and it was like I had hit her with Robert Kennedy again. She looked incredulous (later in front of the TV with Willem she cried) but Renée got so upset that I reported it to Liz that she hung up on me which brings me to think Renée and I are almost through. She cannot accept the friendship I have with Liz. I had just had a long talk with Ken about that and how I didn’t know how to go on with R. NO SLEEP. NIGHTMARES OF BEING STABBED.
DECEMBER 21, 1980
Gram [Gray] died last night at 12, full moon. A bleak cold and depressed Sunday. How do I get out from under these sad Sundays? They come each week and this one seems worse and is wors
e because of Christmas and Gram’s death. Renée and I came over to the loft so I could catch up on my diary then went out for a walk on the lower east side. Dad had called me to tell me that Gram died and would understand if I did not come up. I got all confused and Renée cried all mixed up. I’m sure her tears were also much about my not coming to her Christmas party and oh the day got worse. We went to bed. She slept some and I read “The Waves” and then it was time for Pt. Judith which went very well. A big house and they loved it.
DECEMBER 30, 1980
Up at Renée’s and off quick to meet Rock [Rockwell, Gray’s older brother] at Cupping Room [restaurant in SoHo]. I slept late because of anxiety insomnia, fears of death and no money, wondering what to do for Poetry project. Rocky and I had a nice breakfast at Cupping Room. We shared a vegetable omelet then I went off to buy theNew York Times with big headliner “Spalding Gray’s Pt. Judith” which was an inflation to my ego but Liz burst into tears when she saw it and cried for a long time as Willem and I sat on either side of her. [The review, by Mel Gussow, mentioned that LeCompte directed the play and then criticized the production but praised Gray for his “comic equilibrium” and his “intuitive style of storytelling and play-acting.”] Willem took her in his arms and said stop freaking out. She said it was like losing a child that she could have had TWO children and she did this work instead and now it was gone and I had received all the credit. I felt sick for her and very sad and depressed for the rest of the day.
DECEMBER 31, 1980
Woke late at Renée’s, called Rocky, made love with Renée, went off to meet Rocky at Cupping Room for vegetable omelet then went out to get Voice for [Michael] Feingold review which was OK. Well written, at least. No one else around the Garage except for Meghan would read it as a sort of boycott to all the attention I’ve been getting. My back is still bad so I took a bath and did some work on the ball and then over to do Pt. Judith for an uptight intellectual New York Times audience, one of the worst we’ve played for. It reminded me of Amsterdam, no response. All that energy going backwards.
JANUARY 1, 1981
Thursday
Renée came over in a good mood. She is going to do loft cleaning to supplement unemployment. I took her out to eat at Eva’s [restaurant]. And then we rushed over to the Poetry Project [an institution that has presented readings at St. Mark’s Church-in-the-Bowery in Manhattan since 1966]. It was snowing and very beautiful but I could not enjoy it because too nervous. We got seats. The place was packed. As I began to hear all those poets do their stuff I began to think I should tell a story instead of reading. Then slowly I began to realize that Allen G. [Ginsberg] and the whole mob was there. I began to lose my identity. It was like a nightmare. When my turn came I got up to do a short thing on the death of Gram Gray but I was not centered nor was the room. I felt bad after. Renée said I was only half there. I’m afraid that I have gotten lost in the FAME DRUG, the need to be instantly GREAT without working at it. Back at Renée’s we talked heavy stuff about me going away to Europe and how she could not wait. FOR ME.
JANUARY 12, 1981
Monday
When I think of that Doris Lessing idea that we’ve all been put on earth as an experiment makes me feel weird and ashamed. Everything becomes flat like a bad joke. Even the sea feels like a foolish puddle.
JANUARY 19, 1981
Monday
I went in to see Liz who was talking to Libby about some private matter and ended up getting the riot act read at me from both of them—how selfish I was and they only kept me around the Garage because of my talent so I got all dry mouthed and defensive and then just gave up and admitted yes I was selfish and self concerned. Ah, but I hate that word “selfish.”
JANUARY 24, 1981
Saturday
Worked on one short section about masturbation in my book and then Willem came in acting like a little kid sort of embarrassed because Bob Holman [a poet who curated a reading series at the Poetry Project] had demanded to see the porn film. [LeCompte shot a pornographic film in 1980 with Dafoe and other members of the Wooster Group to include in their play Route 1 & 9. The controversial piece combined excerpts of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town with snippets of the porn film; the actors also performed in blackface, prompting many critics to condemn the play as racist.] Then Willem told me a long dream he had had, sat on the edge of my bed like a little kid. For the first time in a long time I felt like a father to him because he was trusting me with all this personal material and I felt both flattered and a little uneasy. The dream was long and I only remember the image of him giving life to a male bust, a statue that he touched and it came to life in his hands.
FEBRUARY 6, 1981
Friday
Unemployment then rush here and there and up to Lincoln Center to see video of Rumstick with Dan and Morgan. Just before it goes on, Morgan tells me that his mother is suddenly dying of cancer and he has to go down to Baltimore. This puts an extra heavy feeling on Rumstick. I keep crying as I watch it. It’s very strong but I know I am also sad that the video in no way captures the potential power of the piece. I have many sad feelings and ended up going out after with Dan and Morgan and I talk about the car keys and feel an old unanswered guilt come up. Why? When mom said to me that she wanted to do it with the car. Why didn’t I hide the keys or tell Dad. Was I just so passive or did I think it would be better if she did it. This was a new and strong guilt that I had never realized was working there so strong before.
FEBRUARY 7, 1981
Saturday
I told Renée how Philip made my heart beat fast. She said she felt that for me when she first met me. Have I ever felt that for a woman like when I thought my heart would burst in Amsterdam for “love” of Philip? I tell Renée that I am worried about her growing old. I am attracted to the 10 year old in her.
MARCH 2, 1981
Monday
I have so much resistance to packing up and getting on the road again. There is part of me that would just like to settle down and write that book. Just get down to the material, to take a place on Staten Island and just write. I think I will try to do that next spring.
Gray traveled to Amsterdam once again in March to perform Nobody Wanted to Sit Behind a Desk, a new monologue primarily about his cross-country travel with Shafransky, as well as Booze, Cars, and College Girls. This trip also marked his first performance of Interviewing the Audience.
While in Amsterdam, Gray wrote “Seven Scenes from a Family Album,” a thirty-page chapbook comprising seven very short fictions about a middle-class suburban family, which was released by Benzene Editions, a small independent New York City publishing house, in 1981. This is by far the darkest of all of his work—the stories include the rape and killing of a young boy as well as scenes of grim magical realism, such as one with a father taking a large bite of his son’s body. Throughout, the language is rhythmic, playful, and sinister, with details from Gray’s real life smuggled in. (Like Gray’s mother and father, for example, the fictional parents were married on Halloween.)
APRIL 8, 1981
[Shafransky met Gray in Amsterdam, and they traveled together abroad]
Wednesday
It was strange to see Renée. I got freaked out about money when she said the train cost $50.00. On the boat we talked a lot, got caught up on New York, nothing much new. I babbled a lot to Renée. Was confused to see her. (Who was I or to me who). All the money! So expensive here! Renée has a bad cold. We make love and then I gush with confession babble about Aggie [a woman Gray had an affair with in Amsterdam]. Renée says sleeping with her was hostile act. Maybe it was. I don’t know. Renée also says I look tired. I use her as my traveling analyst. We talk to 12:30 then have another fuck. It feels good. She says I get my money’s worth at $50.00 a fuck. I laugh and think is that what she is to me? My whore. I talk a lot about my future. How I do not want to do another autobiographic piece. Will work with children for a bit. Maybe do some acting. Sleep at last.
APRIL 14, 1981
In bed late everyday, why-get-up-feeling roll around, make love. Slow mixed day. We get a late start and drive down the coast road in the opposite direction of Sligo. Very beautiful. Some sun. Small towns but I am beginning to get bored and feel a real need to get down to work which is what? I’m not writing. Just mulling over things in my mind. I do not miss THE GROUP. I miss Liz and Philip. I miss being the center of that group, old group family atmosphere. Here it is beautiful and a welcome time to unwind. We shop for food and I fixed up the lamb stew. We eat and Renée reads to me from “The Mandarins” by [Simone] de Beauvoir. I am also skimming through [Henry James’s] “The Beast in the Jungle.” The old egotist who could not love until it was too late. Liz speaks to me from the past in this story.
APRIL 19, 1981
Sunday
I woke fighting off my depression by acting like a spoiled kid which finally got Renée angry. I said something to the effect that I hoped all was well between Willem and Liz and R. said, “And if it isn’t what does that have to do with you?” And I admitted that I might be drawn back. Old passive fear. At last Renée said and I felt she was right. I am a masochist to the extent that I mainly feel and express and identify with negative emotions. I would always drive Liz to a painful state before I could feel deep feelings for her. After breakfast we went for a walk on the beach and Renée suggested that if I do want to see a psychiatrist I should try [Paul] Pavel because she has heard nothing but good reports about him. I have decided to call him as soon as I get back to the city. It is being out and distant from it all that has made me realize that I must make a plan of action and try to follow it for the next year or so. Writing, work with children, the film and maybe some theatre work. We walked back and made love out in the garden in the sun. It felt good but ended fast, me coming as I looked up at the clouds. Yes, the spiritual aspect is missing with Renée. I had it with Liz in the WORK. That work was like our religion together. The spiritual aspect is very important for me. Renée says my HEART is elsewhere and not with her. With her I am heartless. “Where is my heart?” I ask her. She says it is with my mother. I feel she is right.