Interview (conducted 4/30/15)
Pamela Gaye Walker
and John Walker
Pamela and John Walker
star in the current production of Garret Jon Groenveld’s Empty Nesters running May 18- June 14 at Thick House, in
San Francisco. The interview below
indicates just how ideal that casting is.
Pamela and John are married, and are “empty nesters.” And they have had
professional lives in theatre and film their entire adult lives.
John in recent years
has been active primarily in film. He
was Associate Producer of The Iron Giant (Warner Bros.); Producer for The
Incredibles (Pixar), for which both he
and Pamela provided voices; and is currently working as Executive Producer of Disney’s
Tomorrowland (starring George
Clooney), which will be released May 22.
Pamela is currently developing for production a screenplay she has
written and is directing an independent feature comedy/drama. She is also working on a journal
project.
So, they’re busy. But also having a lot of fun rehearsing Empty
Nesters, for which they could apparently
have written extra scenes had they been necessary.
DC: You both have deep backgrounds as theatre
artists.
PW: Yes!
We went to the University of Notre Dame together. I majored in theatre there, and we did a lot
of shows together. Then I went to Circle
in the Square on Broadway in New York for post graduate training—acting,
singing and dancing all day, glorious. I
studied with renowned teachers Larry Moss, and director Michael Kahn, and many
others. And then we joined a company in
Door County, Wisconsin, Peninsula Players, which was how I got into the Union, my
Actors' Equity debut. That theatre is
still going strong after 85 years. It’s
a gorgeous place to work, in the woods in northern Wisconsin. John and I did about twenty-five shows
together there before he started managing the theatre. We started the Fall Season there too. He proposed to me on stage during the curtain
call in front of 600 paying customers, and our oldest daughter spent her first
three summers there. That was a very
important time and place to us. I really
believe in companies. We were challenged
by many roles we might not play elsewhere.
We earned some “chops,” as they say.
We eventually moved full time to
Chicago, and I worked a lot there, while we also raised our two daughters. I
received some awards along the way—Actress of the Year in '96 and a Jefferson
Award nomination, Chicago’s Tony Award, along with Tony winners Lois Smith and
Linda Emond.
Then an agent from Los Angeles saw
me in a play at Victory Gardens Theatre and said he’d represent me in LA! So I went to California for about seven
months, commuting back and forth to Chicago.
I did my first movie with Randy Quaid, another one with Peter Fonda, some
TV work, and started acting and directing in LA theatre as well.
Raising the kids well was the most
important thing to us, of course. We
commuted; I went back to Chicago and taught at Victory Gardens, and continued
to work in LA, then we moved the whole family out there. We’ve been married for thirty-three years. My work in the theatre has always co-mingled
with John’s—on purpose. He got a break in
the film business and took twenty years off of theatre but we’ve talked about
working on stage together again many, many times.
While in LA, we commuted up to the
Bay area for three years. I've been able
to do some great plays here—for instance, at Playground, The Magic, Aurora, and
TheatreWorks. I’ve been writing and
directing film as well. I made the film Trifles while teaching acting at Pixar, using
an all Pixar cast and crew, which began my foray into screenwriting, and doing
other film work in earnest. But I'll
work in theatre forever. It’s an
actor’s medium and is the most satisfying.
This is an auspicious moment, for
us to be working in a play together again.
JW: Our stories are practically the same. I've always loved the theatre and found it
while pretty young, in school when I was around twelve or thirteen. I started as an actor, but I also worked on
the sets and did all the things one does.
When I went to college I did some, but I never actually studied drama
there. I got a degree in English—I felt
that if I was in college I should learn how to do something, and I couldn’t
write very well, but I figured if I studied English I’d at least learn how to
write a decent letter [laughs]. The best thing that happened to me at Notre
Dame is that I met Pam.
After college, I thought, “Well,
what am I going to do?” and I applied to law school and was accepted, and at
the same time I applied to acting schools and got into a bunch of those. Eventually I decided that I didn’t really
want to be an attorney, so why go to law school—I’ll go to acting school
instead. I went to ACT out here in San
Francisco, during the Bill Ball era and spent a couple years here and loved
it. At that time I had never seen the
inside of a professional theatre—I had never met anyone who had made a living
as an artist of any kind. It seemed like
a lark when I did it and it just didn’t seem real. Even in college, even in my twenties, I had
never really known anyone personally that made a living as an artist, of any kind. But I got out here and saw that company,
which at that time was just remarkable.
ACT was running in true rep, so they had three different shows each week,
and a 220 member company. They had a
forty-five member acting company that was on fifty-two weeks a year. They also ran their school, and I was part of
that school, and the teachers in the school were the actors and the directors
in the company. It was just eye-opening. We’d see the actors during the day as
teachers, then at night they’d be performing, and the students were spear
carriers and supernumeraries, and you’d watch your teachers acting. The next day in class, you’d say, “I saw what
you did . . ..”
There was that feedback loop between teacher and student that was really
interesting . .
. and that was Bill Ball’s thing,
that a conservatory is designed to conserve talent. I had never seen the inside of a theatre
company before, so I thought, well, they’re all
like this [laughs] . . . and
when I left I never saw it again! That ten-to-fifteen
year period of ACT was magical.
And my dream at that point was that
I wanted to be an actor-manager. I
wanted my own company—to run it, to be the producer of it—but I also wanted to
be an actor. I wanted to be John Wilkes
Booth without the assassination. So
that’s what I worked on. I bugged the
producer at ACT at that time, Jim McKenzie, because I wanted to learn his
job. I kept hassling him about working
for him and he let me do things like filing for him. At one time he taught a producing class for
middle managers, and I really wanted to take that class, but he said, “You’re
an acting student: you can’t take that
class, you don’t know anything about it.”
Finally he said, “Look, I’ve never taught a class before, and if you
took the class, you could be the lowest common denominator, and you could come
up after class and tell me what you didn’t understand.” I remember one discussion of his when he was
talking about budgeting and kept talking about the “bottom line,” and I went up
to him after class and said, “Yeah, I think I got everything, but what is this
‘bottom line’ thing?” He said, “Man, you
really are the lowest common
denominator!” So he became a great
friend and my mentor and got me my first job and we worked together at his
company in Wisconsin, the place where Pam and I did so many shows together.
While I was at ACT, Pam was in NY
at Circle in the Square and she would come out and visit . .
.
PW: We were working out our relationship then,
how it would fit into this lifestyle. He
mentioned Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir so I read a book about them
and realized they never married but were together for fifty years or
something. Hmmm. To counter, I presented him with a book about
Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne.
JW: That’s
right. We’d try to figure out what we
were going to do when we both got out of acting school. We worked up an audition in sign language for
the leads in Children of a Lesser God
and won the parts. We wound up going to
this company in Door County for many years where we got to do lots of great
roles. Then we went to Chicago and Pam
worked as an actor. I stopped acting and
managed theatres and produced.
PW: We produced a few of the shows we starred in
together, too, which was great. We'd
gone to college with Theresa Rebeck, and we did a number of her plays. We arrived in Chicago as Equity actors, and
so we started producing by default, because there are many non-union theatres
there where you can do your work and get into the community that way, but we
couldn’t do that as Union members.
Peninsula Players had been a great place for us for over half the year. John began producing professionally in
Chicago, but we still did plays together on and off, which was very
special. We were managing a family and
making our living in the theatre!
JW: When Pam got the offer from an agent to go to
LA, things sort of switched for us, as we uprooted our family and moved and
started over. At the time, it was a
really scary thing to do and I was not a big fan of it, but Pam was a champion,
very adamant about it and it turned out to be a good move for us.
PW: My accepting offers for work also revolved
around trying to keep the family together.
Having a family and being in the theatre each required 120 percent. I didn’t want to skimp on either, so I had to
be very choosy. I could have left town
to do Regional Theatre, I could have gone to NY, which I wanted to do—we
couldn’t figure out how we were going to manage that one. Actually, we were able to produce a
successful Chicago show off-Broadway in NY together, a play by eventual Academy
Award nominated writer John Logan, and starring eventual Tony Award winner
Denis O’Hare.
It’s been
an amazing ride in both theatre and film.
It’s turned out better than our wildest dreams. Right now we’re very happy to be doing
another show together.
JW: We haven’t acted together for almost twenty
years.
DC: The two of you can appreciate Empty Nesters purely on its artistic
merits, without needing to identify personally, just as you can appreciate Taming of the Shrew without your own courtship
being anything like Kate and Petruchio’s.
That said, you are empty
nesters, and Groenveld’s play presents issues faced by empty nesters who are
reviewing not only their future plans, but their relationship. Are there specific things in this play that
are speaking to you?
PW: Absolutely!
I was just taking my hour walk with the dogs, and running some lines, and
the play has this section about the husband’s obsession with sports, which is a
really funny beat that a lot of people can relate to. And
all the while that I'm processing the lines, I know it's not exactly our story,
but as an actor I have to find how it relates to me personally so that I can
play it, and then translate it, so the audience can find that
universality. Well, sports is not an
issue with us, but in our own lives, all of a sudden we were thrown into this
amazing experience in film, where everyone is as passionate as in theatre—obsessed. But for women, and women of a certain age,
it's not exactly friendly and welcoming.
So I could relate what happened to me with his job in film, feeling a
bit left out and tired of hearing about it from the men, to the sports issue in
the marriage in this play. How do we get the marriage back on equal footing again? Lots of specifics to mine as an actor. We're in a long, committed marriage, and we ask
ourselves, what choices will we make for the rest of our lives? What gets sacrificed for our greater good,
over ego, money, and fame, let’s say.
We’re heavily influenced by what our culture dictates as important and
sometimes you have to push back.
DC: They use the word “plan” in the play.
PW: Ah, this piece has kind of dropped from
heaven . . . it’s
amazing and wonderful. Another thought -
we have friends who have little
kids—Jim Kleinmann, for instance - said no matter how old your kids are, you
start freaking out when they’re born that they’re going to be gone in eighteen
years. So it’s not only about people
whose kids have just left the house—it’s a life-long anxiety provoking concern,
a universal theme.
JW: Right, and this play—we’ve had almost every
single one of these conversations, probably twenty times!
PW: Well . . . not exactly! Don’t get the wrong impression! But there are many we can personalize.
JW: No, but he [Groenveld] has a great ear. I can’t imagine any married couple that
hasn’t had very similar discussions.
PW: Yes, there are differences between what men and women want. Success in this endeavor, marriage, is about
weathering storms, navigating core differences and being respectful of those
differences.
DC: And as the play demonstrates, in order to be
respectful it is necessary just to notice.
In part of the play the husband is not even conscious of his wife’s
concerns. It’s not yet a matter of his
being respectful of her deep concerns—first he has to know. The two of you have
not only been parents—you have both also been professionals at the same
time. As you just said, it’s 120
percent plus 120 percent. So where’s the
percent devoted to the task of “who are you?”
PW: Right, when does life slow down enough that
you can look each other in the eyes? And
my character in the play says: if you can just notice, if you take the time to
look into my eyes and talk to me for at least two seconds. Because we get caught in this whole roller
coaster of what we’re supposed to be doing, and how much we’re supposed to be
making, and what material stuff we should have.
JW: So we’ve had such a kick working on this
play. Just learning the lines, we’re
cracking each other up. We’ll get to a
point in a rehearsal and just start laughing .
. .
PW: .
. . giggling . . . and
crying . . .
JW: .
. . giggling with each other, like kids, and the
rest of them are just wondering, what the hell’s going on with you guys? The material is so available to us on so many
different levels that it’s effortless.
And the challenge, for me at least, is not to get too big a kick out of
her because it won’t serve the piece!
PW: You can’t enjoy it too much! But if we have
fun, the audience will have fun, and that’s going to come through for
sure. This play has come to us at a
perfect time, while we have this moment to do it, to get back to our theatrical
roots together. What a blessing.
JW: That’s right, and that has actually happened
to us all through our lives. I don’t
really have this thought well-formed in my mind, but in our lives different
pieces of the movies or the theatre or other artistic projects kind of came
into our lives and helped us reflect on our own. It seems like things kind of drop in for us
at the right time.
PW: Fate, higher power, whatever is going on
. .
.. Maybe we’ve been tapping into
the universe for what we want and need and then getting it back somehow.
DC: Yes, though you might not be giving
yourselves enough credit. Since the classical
era there has been the figure of Opportunity, with his forelock that must be
grabbed when he appears. As represented
in literature, the only people who benefit from this are those who recognize
Opportunity when he arrives, and who take the initiative—which often involves
risk—to grab that forelock at that moment.
It seems that the two of you, when presented with opportunity, have had
the communication among yourselves that is necessary for you to take advantage
of many opportunities.
JW: Pam is much more intuitive than I am. She is not encumbered by structure; she’s
much more willing to take a leap of faith than I am. I think that’s an interesting and good
dynamic. She’s ready to leap, and I’m
running around moving the net!
PW: It’s like in the play. We’ve always called this, between us, a “closed
system.” Like yin and yang. When one of us was out here and the other
pulled back . . .
they’re doing this in the play all the time, too, between the
characters. And the fact that we have art
at the base of our lives—art has the potential to heal, you know. And when you go off and you’re the boss for
a really long time you have to exercise that side of you, you lose the little
boy inside you, the artistic side that heals and brings you back to the earth
and nature and things that are really very important. Maybe it’s the feminine side? I don’t know.
We’re both now at a time in our lives when we’re able to call up our
feminine and masculine sides when we need it.
He understands me more, and I’ve gotten a little more macho because I’ve
had to survive . . . the
film business is difficult, and I’m in it too.
DC: So the arts are sort of a catalyst here for
you?
PW: Yes, and one can’t be passive.
DC: Imagine that Groenveld said to you, “I need
to expand this play, so I want you to suggest another scene that further
develops what you understand this play to be about.” What would you suggest?
PW: That’s a great question.
JW: In any relationship, each person has some personal
passions that the other one is not so into.
I think it’s really interesting when one of the partners goes with the
other one on the thing that the other person really likes, and feels all the
while, “Oh, god . . . ugh
. .
..” That to me is
interesting. Each of us has brow beaten
the other into going to do something that just the initiator really likes and
the other one can’t stand . . . [PW
laughs] . . . and the result is usually a disaster,
because the person you drag along is not having any fun and that ruins your fun
at the same time. That might be
interesting to add. In the play the
wife seems to like going to the sports events, at least somewhat . . .
PW: .
. . yeah, but the more polarized they get, the
funnier it is.
JW: We’ve had many
of those.
PW: We have many examples of these things in our
lives that we could write in one afternoon.
JW: I drag her to the top of Squaw Valley and she
drags me to . . .
PW: .
. . O.K., yeah, a silent retreat. He hasn’t done a silent retreat yet . . .
JW: Exactly—I think there’s gold in those hills!
DC: You bet.
In the play it is sort of assumed by the characters that each has some
sort of “Plan” and a question is whether they are conscious of it or not. The action of the play suggests that larger
plans tend to be organic rather than formally stated, with the partners slipping
into the roles they need for those plans.
As actors working season to season, and producers working project to
project, many of your plans must be fairly structured. But do you see yourselves in your personal
lives as consciously working on the “Plan” in your marriage or do you just
organically manage to follow each other?
PW: We’ll probably have different answers on
this. From my perspective, I'd like to
plan a little bit more for the long term. Because otherwise, in the wake of some big
opportunities we’re given, one of us might end up flailing around a bit, not
able to make choices. That betrays who
we are. To be true to myself, I need to
say, "this takes a little bit more organizing." Part of it is hearing what fate is offering
and having the ability to go with it wisely and, well, consider both sides in
the journey.
JW: I like to plan on the short term: what are we doing tomorrow, tomorrow
afternoon, this weekend? And Pam likes
to be very improvisational in the short term.
You know, “It’s 10:00, let’s
go do this!”
PW: “I’m going to have a surprise party for you, tomorrow! And thirty people will show up! . . .”
JW: .
. . and “I’m going to call thirty people tonight!”
PW: [laughing]
That’s just about it. The big
decisions I like to plan, though.
JW: And with the big stuff, I have no freakin’
idea—the world is too complex. I can’t
think about six months from now. And we
sort of clash about that. I’ve never
planned my career much. I kind of knew
what I wanted to do, and I just, well, grabbed the forelock—“Oh, there’s one,
let’s go do that!” I knew I wanted to
work in theatre and in the arts, but I wasn’t too particular about what part of
it as long as I could be in it. When I
got an opportunity, for instance, to be a producer on an animated film at
Warner Brothers I thought, well that’s out of left field. I had two offers. I could run the Geffen Playhouse in LA as a
managing director, or go work on this animated film. I went to talk with Gil Cates, who was
running the Geffen at the time, and I told him thank you, but I also have this
offer to make an animated film at Warner Brothers. He looked at me like, “Well, if you want to
make cartoons . . ..”
But I thought it sounded kind of interesting, and I’d never done
anything like it. I knew what the job
was with him—I had done that work for twenty years—and the Geffen Playhouse was
cool and I thought it would be great.
But I thought, maybe I should just do this crazy thing.
PW: Can I just say . . . that’s very
interesting. The foundation of our marriage was that we were a
team and had a partnership with our work, our life, and as parents, the whole
shebang. Some of our big decisions had
to be based also on money, because we needed it, and so we did that. But I felt some of my opinions weren't
considered due to the stress and pressures of that time, JUST like in this
play! One of the central questions is what
are we going to be when they grow up? A
turning point for me was hearing people refer to JW and his business partner as
an “old married couple,” and my response was, no, no, no . .
. that’s not going to cut it with
me. We
are an old married couple. And this,
the theatre, is our home. We did the work thing, we raised our kids,
now I’m going to be included in the
big decisions and in the art. It’s our
time. We live in this culture, where at
times women are devalued and not heard. It could drive a person crazy! That's why I love this play, because it
speaks to that.
DC: Both of you are impressively articulate about
these issues, from the play, from your experiences as a couple, and as empty
nesters. I’m thrilled that the two of
you are performing this play.
JW: Well, I feel as if I have to bring this game
on that I haven’t done in a long time.
And she’s really good.
PW: [laughs] If he would just listen to my wise
ole’ ideas and directions.
JW: Yeah, I’m not going to do that. Well . . .
