I like this version. There is a longer version published in American Theatre Magazine, not sure of the date, you can read it on their website if it's still available.
I think this version is better . . . there's more detail about the theater scene of that time and more about the problematic aspects of his work I didn't feel like including.
Your absence is one more reason to quit Facebook. Maybe a dozen people made insightful, worthwhile posts on Facebook worth reading and for me you were at the top. I hope you'll be posting your pithy movie and TV reviews here.
I love how much you love/loved Spalding, Laurie. Me too. I have a huge file of interviews and notes about him and his performances. When you saw the piece where he talked about sucking a cock and wondered what the Village Voice would say, did he look right at you (the way he did at me)? :-)
Also beautiful about this post is your tribute to Spalding as a writer, which is often overlooked -- and clearly inspired you FOR LIFE.
Thank you for this tribute to the uniquely fabulous Spaulding Gray. I came to love him at his 'famous period' of 'Swimming to Cambodia' time. Late 80s after moving west to live in San Francisco attending California College of Arts & CRAFTS (first they got rid of the crafts in the title, and recently the school - so goes more of the Arts). Studying Graphic Design, my best friend and I fell in love with Spaulding in 'Swimming to Cambodia' and would quote parts of it to each other (including ' "Ivan devil in my ear") to explain whatever quirky reality was happening during our design school days. And to explain to each other life in the Bay Area. We were both east coast transplants and had lived in downtown NYC in the 80s (me for my entire life), and missed it, but left to go to the left coast to recover from the burnout of those heady times. That film (video we rented repeatedly) helped us with our nostalgia and homesickness of NY. This was a deep dive on a remarkable man that was existential, comedic and profound. I'm sorry his later life was so difficult and filled with pain, perhaps it always was, but later, it seemed to become untenable.
Coda: My friend and I ended up back in NYC a few years later where we are still best friends and NYC citizens.
I saw History in NY and was blown away. Visceral. This piece about him is also about writing, the exacting complexity, the rolling with the punches, the weaving of tragedy with humor. It's all point of view.
This is a stunning piece of writing, Laurie. You done the great man good. Brava.
This is so kind and unsentimental. I love the description of a man travelling out beyond safety. “His delivery was low-key in contrast to what he was revealing.” Often I respond: of course! to what you are saying even if I know little about the subject. You bring me with you. One minute I’m in Australia, next minute I swear I’ve had lunch with you and Spalding Gray and I know and like you both.
What a tour de force. Thank you, thank you. And Facebook will now be a lesser experience for me. Fuck ‘em. One further note: my former husband graduated from RISD in 1985 or so. Speaker at graduation: Spaulding Gray. Unforgettable.
Fabulous. Thanks for your comment and thanks for the support! I was working all day on this post and didn't have time to think about the loss to me of Facebook. R's asleep. I had just the kind of thought I would open my computer to Facebook and begin to think-type, and I realized it's a form for me, and the form involves Facebook and my family of readers there. I opened R's computer and wrote my post on his Facebook, and it was good in that I wrote what I wanted to write. It's not the same for me, I mean the creative part of writing on Facebook to a body of readers, it's not the same on Notes. Notes was where I would copy posts I wrote on Facebook. That may still be possible on R's computer. It's strange. All new, too. xxL
Oh man, this turned me inside out. I miss him. Spring Street Natural was my go-to during that exact time. I swear I must have seen him there. Maybe I saw the two of you together having lunch. I can see it clearly. Thank you.
Do you remember the Times piece written by the last person Spalding ever spoke to? It was on the ferry, the author was a stranger, they had a perfect little exchange. Spalding asked him an ordinary question, if I remember the essay correctly (now I’ll have to find), and then he was gone.
oh wow, laurie. the way you write about spalding is masterful: i was transfixed by every word and the rhythm of your telling. how i could see the trajectory of his life, not just his life but those threads to his parents, and how his work informs your own. you are so so good writing about culture and artists—that could be a whole other book. i’m late to this post which is why i learned @ your FB ban, ironically, on richard’s FB post. it’s an amputation, so shocking and unfair. i’m really sorry.
A tribute that rises to its subject and dances with him.
I would like to see (and have) the long version published as a chapbook if they still did that.
I like this version. There is a longer version published in American Theatre Magazine, not sure of the date, you can read it on their website if it's still available.
‘Oh, I just figured this version is so good, how could more not be better? But sometimes less is more.
I think this version is better . . . there's more detail about the theater scene of that time and more about the problematic aspects of his work I didn't feel like including.
Thank you!
No reason given.
Your absence is one more reason to quit Facebook. Maybe a dozen people made insightful, worthwhile posts on Facebook worth reading and for me you were at the top. I hope you'll be posting your pithy movie and TV reviews here.
Absolutely. ❤️❤️
I love how much you love/loved Spalding, Laurie. Me too. I have a huge file of interviews and notes about him and his performances. When you saw the piece where he talked about sucking a cock and wondered what the Village Voice would say, did he look right at you (the way he did at me)? :-)
Also beautiful about this post is your tribute to Spalding as a writer, which is often overlooked -- and clearly inspired you FOR LIFE.
Yes, learned so much from the music of his speech.
Thank you for this tribute to the uniquely fabulous Spaulding Gray. I came to love him at his 'famous period' of 'Swimming to Cambodia' time. Late 80s after moving west to live in San Francisco attending California College of Arts & CRAFTS (first they got rid of the crafts in the title, and recently the school - so goes more of the Arts). Studying Graphic Design, my best friend and I fell in love with Spaulding in 'Swimming to Cambodia' and would quote parts of it to each other (including ' "Ivan devil in my ear") to explain whatever quirky reality was happening during our design school days. And to explain to each other life in the Bay Area. We were both east coast transplants and had lived in downtown NYC in the 80s (me for my entire life), and missed it, but left to go to the left coast to recover from the burnout of those heady times. That film (video we rented repeatedly) helped us with our nostalgia and homesickness of NY. This was a deep dive on a remarkable man that was existential, comedic and profound. I'm sorry his later life was so difficult and filled with pain, perhaps it always was, but later, it seemed to become untenable.
Coda: My friend and I ended up back in NYC a few years later where we are still best friends and NYC citizens.
I saw History in NY and was blown away. Visceral. This piece about him is also about writing, the exacting complexity, the rolling with the punches, the weaving of tragedy with humor. It's all point of view.
This is a stunning piece of writing, Laurie. You done the great man good. Brava.
Thanks love. xxL
This is so kind and unsentimental. I love the description of a man travelling out beyond safety. “His delivery was low-key in contrast to what he was revealing.” Often I respond: of course! to what you are saying even if I know little about the subject. You bring me with you. One minute I’m in Australia, next minute I swear I’ve had lunch with you and Spalding Gray and I know and like you both.
A beautiful comment. Thank you.
What a tour de force. Thank you, thank you. And Facebook will now be a lesser experience for me. Fuck ‘em. One further note: my former husband graduated from RISD in 1985 or so. Speaker at graduation: Spaulding Gray. Unforgettable.
Fabulous. Thanks for your comment and thanks for the support! I was working all day on this post and didn't have time to think about the loss to me of Facebook. R's asleep. I had just the kind of thought I would open my computer to Facebook and begin to think-type, and I realized it's a form for me, and the form involves Facebook and my family of readers there. I opened R's computer and wrote my post on his Facebook, and it was good in that I wrote what I wanted to write. It's not the same for me, I mean the creative part of writing on Facebook to a body of readers, it's not the same on Notes. Notes was where I would copy posts I wrote on Facebook. That may still be possible on R's computer. It's strange. All new, too. xxL
This is a gorgeous. Thank you.
Oh man, this turned me inside out. I miss him. Spring Street Natural was my go-to during that exact time. I swear I must have seen him there. Maybe I saw the two of you together having lunch. I can see it clearly. Thank you.
Do you remember the Times piece written by the last person Spalding ever spoke to? It was on the ferry, the author was a stranger, they had a perfect little exchange. Spalding asked him an ordinary question, if I remember the essay correctly (now I’ll have to find), and then he was gone.
Thank you for this. So evocative and moving. I have good memories of him.
I miss him. xo
I've been procrastinating reading this post. I feared how deeply I knew it would affect me. I've just now finally read it. Thank you.
Wonderful tribute to SG…thank you! Now I want to find something of his to watch. Glad I was able to see him perform during his time here.
There's a lot that's streamable.
I just love your portraits, Laurie. You use words like a painter smudging oils on a canvas, building the texture of a visage smudge by smudge.
oh wow, laurie. the way you write about spalding is masterful: i was transfixed by every word and the rhythm of your telling. how i could see the trajectory of his life, not just his life but those threads to his parents, and how his work informs your own. you are so so good writing about culture and artists—that could be a whole other book. i’m late to this post which is why i learned @ your FB ban, ironically, on richard’s FB post. it’s an amputation, so shocking and unfair. i’m really sorry.
Thanks, dear C. I am using R's account right now. xxL