As I work diligently to prepare myself for opening night, I’ve found it necessary to sit down and really think about each of the roles that I play throughout the show. Each character has a different part of the Ragtime story to tell, with different motivations, histories, and backgrounds. I’ve attempted to fill in many of the blanks to create “my story,” both as an actor as well as a character.
I begin the show as an upstanding citizen of New Rochelle named Michael Ashbury, entering the promenade with my wife, Elizabeth Ashbury (Mary Kate Francis). We observe the goings on of the opening number and socialize with our friends and neighbors of the area. Elizabeth and I are newlyweds, so much of our talking during the opening number consists of (mimed) chatting about our plans for our house, children, and things of that nature. I quickly switch into the role of storyteller, as I become the persona of Harry K. Thaw and help detail his involvement with Stanford and Evelyn.
Later in the act, Michael Ashbury returns as a member of the jury in Thaw’s trial (ironic? very). As Michael, my day job is working as a police officer. I chose to assume the persona of an officer with traditional viewpoints; consequently, my treatment of Sarah in “What Kind of Woman” is condescending and callous.
Michael’s work is never done, however, as he quickly has to assume the role of Customs Officer on Ellis Island (they must have been short-handed that day) following that scene. My attitude in this scene is also one of condescension (and possible xenophobia). On a routine patrol later, I encounter Tateh fighting with a man on the street. Breaking up the fight, I remark that Tateh’s behavior is typical of his kind (“you people”), as I storm off in disgust.
Later in Act I, I (still playing the role of Michael) take a 2nd job in Henry Ford’s Model T Factory; the pay of a police officer apparently wasn’t enough to pay the bills. However, after seeing a black man drive off in one of the latest models, I quit my job at the factory out of disgust. To fill in my new spare time, I start volunteering at the Emerald Isle firehouse. As fate would have it, I encounter the same man who drove off from the factory one day when I’m working. It wouldn’t be the last time, though.
During the Union Square sequence, I (the actor) briefly assume the role of storyteller in the rally before rushing offstage to assume the persona of Michael Ashbury (everyone’s favorite jack-of-all-trades police officer) once more. I take Emma Goldman down from her pedestal, and at that moment, something weird happens; I develop a crush on Emma (yes, I am still a married man) . It’s this sudden spark of interest that makes him “go easy on her,” and choose to let her go free rather than doing a full arrest.
Meanwhile, back at the firehouse, another encounter with Coalhouse sets me and my boys off. As an actor, this scene is crucial – I channel hate and ignorance as I trash the car.
For the end of the first act, I become a storyteller once more to proclaim the need for a “day of hope.”
My journey as Michael throughout the rest of the show is just as varied as in Act I: I vacation to Atlantic City, act in a silent movie, and later restrain my boss Willie Conklin in the final scene. The one thing I like about playing “Michael” is that there’s rarely a dull moment. He seems to like to fill his time up by being involved with virtually everyone else’s stories. Michael’s role may not be the focus of Ragtime, but his is a journey that helps tell the overarching story of the show, and for that reason, I am dedicated to giving it my full focus.
David, I really love how much thought you’ve put into your character. It’s so cool to see how you’ve actually managed to explain everything you do on stage as either part of your role as a storyteller or in your life as Michael. I particularly loved the tidbit you included about being outraged at Coalhouse’s ability to purchase the car you were building; it made me think for the first time about how Willie Conklin and the other firefighters were probably not the only people rubbed the wrong way by an African American man owning a car back then. I think it also helps inform your actions later on – not only have you already established yourself as more than a little bit racist (after all, you do quit your job over one car purchase), but you also have a specific grievance against this one man, who later shows up in your neighborhood once again.
Of course, my favorite part was discovering your little crush on Emma. Between you and Evelyn, it seems like I have some pretty decent options should the radical anarchist thing get old, and should the authorities *ahem* let me back into the country. All kidding aside, it was actually useful to understand your motivation in that scene, because it helps me understand why you let me go. That scene has always felt a little bit strange to me, but next time I’ll be able to see you as a kind-hearted (though seriously misguided) police officer, instead of a neglectful cop who can’t even arrest someone correctly.
All in all, I think that the way you told your story was extremely creative. Seeing this, I’m honestly a little jealous that I’m bound to history, and that I don’t have as much freedom to make up more of my journey. Who knows, maybe in an alternate universe where Emma didn’t have a definite path, she could have fallen in love with a kindly police officer despite their differences. Michael Ashbury could have been the third (and final?) in her string of famous affairs.
I really like the creativity in how you linked all of your roles together. That’s a really clever progression between your multiple jobs.
Hi David,
I am commenting on your first post first. I was interested in your comment about needing to control your tendency to over-exaggerate emotions and gestures onstage. I was drawn to Ragtime because for the most part, the characters and the action called for a more ‘authentic’ presentation, rather than a more cartoon-like representation. I agree that music can lead us to a level of emotion quite quickly, and if the emotion is more real, music seems to infuse our body with it. If the emotions are more superficial, music can enhance that distance from reality as well. I thought you did a really good job of weaving in and out of the comical or the serious depending on your part at any given time. The White shooting by Thaw and the Crime of the Century scene were clearly meant to be ‘entertainment’ whereas the scene with Tatah was anything but. I absolutely loved your choice in the ending to embrace – was it Taylor, or Erica or? – when you were on the stairs. I felt that connection added greatly to the message that, as storytellers, the hate and division is not real, and that though the individuals of the cast may be different, that difference is something to celebrate and to share. I also enjoyed watching you and Mary Kate in the opening number. Your newly-wedded state came across very effectively.
Best,
Barbara