Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Bill Killian

Brecht said "All Art contributes to the greatest Art of all, the Art of living."


Bill Killian tells me he is seventy going on seventy. I don't believe him. He is twenty-one all the way - and a bit of a Renaissance man. I offer a few examples of his deeds and interests, in no particular order, but with freestyle commentary.


Bill has made over one-hundred basketball free throws in a row more than forty-seven times. Just this past week he made 197 out of 200. This is staggering. His form and rhythm when he shoots the ball is impeccable, flawless, and seems effortless, graceful, poetic. Now when I was a kid, I beat the then world record holder, Ted St. Martin, in a free throw shoot out. I made 10 out of 10. Ted missed his first shot, didn't shoot again, but claimed he made 9 out of 10 on the certificate he gave me. I hate to have to dust off my shoes and head down to the gym to give Bill a little competition but I might have too! The only problem is I really don't think I would stand a chance vs Bill. Therefore, I am staying at a distance, preferring to cheer Bill on and admire his ability in this skill which he often shares with young players, teaching them proper habits and the fundamentals of shooting. Bill's personality, love and enthusiasm combined with his knowledge, practice and experience make him an ideal teacher of this sort.


Bill has been to more Actor's Gymnasium sessions with me than anyone. Therefore - I love him no matter what! It's not just that he attends though. His presence has been crucial for many reasons. Bill's work as an actor existed of course long before Actor's Gymnasium and will continue well after Actor's Gymnasium but for this space and time, Bill has shown his great commitment to his craft, his art, with the work he has shared with all of us in Actor's Gym. The list is a long, long one if I tried to mention each session that jumps to mind when I think of Bill's work. But I will give you two, as classic examples, though seemingly opposite types of work.

The first one is of a monologue from Horton Foote's "The Man From Atlanta." Bill presented this work to us in several forms the first time he brought it in. He did it first that day as a straightforward monologue. He worked on it a second time that day, not with the language of the piece but instead with music playing. (For those unfamiliar with Actor's Gymnasium the short explanation is that we explore and work on ways to make ourselves more scenically expressive as actors). In that repetition with the music playing, Bill worked his way through various actions of the character, sometimes metaphorically, touching certain rhythms and moods. A couple of weeks or so later, Bill was ready to present the monologue again to us, having continued his work on it at home in the meantime. Let me clarify something though. Most, most, work on monologues in workshops and classes consist of a stage where the actor has almost learned, memorized, the lines of the text itself, or has just learned the lines and is now trying to work out the basic action and activities as to how best present it to spectators. Depth and detail, meaning layers and layers and layers of human behavior within a specific event and situation are usually nowhere to be found. That is not the case with Bill here. With this monologue Bill was well in to the depth and detail and we were trying to figure out how to organize it craftwise and draw it to a poetic rendition. And then it happened. Bill, as the character, begin to actually live in the space with full blown thoughts and emotions and physical actions, at one point picking up a picture of his son in the most simplest of fashions as he spoke - a loving, heartbreaking moment as he gently but deeply felt asked for his son back. On that day Bill was not just a good actor, he was a great one. One that day Bill was not just a technician with the ability to speak and move and indicate skillfully, he was an artist in the deepest and widest and best sense, revealing to all of us something unique, something profound, something captivating. It was great!


(And BTW the next week Bill, in typical hardworking and practical fashion, was right back at the rigours of the daily physical and vocal exercises that are the "beginnings") .


The second example is when we were all working as group, or taking turns rather, with the words from Hamlet's To Be or Not to Be monologue. Bill and Tom Wentzel were ripping through segments of the speech using the most bizarre and unexpected vocal qualities and intonations. I was on the floor dying of laughter. I won't give further details now but it was hysterical. You should have been there!

Bill has purchased many books and DVDs on theatre and acting that he has generously shared with us and he has participated actively in a ton of research on various topics that we have done through Actor's Gymnasium. He has always been a conscientious supporter of theatre and the arts in general here in Tucson as well as in Phoenix (that god-forsaken soul-less wasteland of a town to the near north).

Bill recently came out of retirement and started back to work again as a Chaplain. This time he is at Corondelet counseling the grieved and anyone seeking spiritual comfort, advice and guidance. If there is a more practical and sympathetic ear than Bill's in this regard I haven't seen it. And, in addition to his daily duties (if I may use that word) as a husband, father and grandfather, Bill is completing a book of poetry. Now this isn't one of those I wrote ten poems kind of books. Bill has so far selected over eighty-five poems from a working catalogue of over five-hundred that chronicle his life and work, much of it theatre related.

And one last thing. While I have seen Bill upset and bothered, I have never seen him without a smile and kind words and compliments for everyone present. Bill, you have made a work of art of your life! Thank you for all you have given us and keep up the great deeds!



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