Dear Eileen,
I love and respect you. And I shall always be grateful for our friendship and our collaboration. As you have told me, “Old Wicked Songs” helped you a bit in a time of need. Me, too.
Your board are an impressive band of believers: intelligent, generous and dedicated. I have been pleased to share in their exemplary qualities. I have not been much use, as I told you would be the case when you first asked me to join. This alone would not be enough to cause me to leave.
I kvetch about my industry. I cry about my lost art. The art, I mean, that has been traded away by tee vee and movies, and too often disdained (literally, by the NEA) by sponsors of all stripes. Sponsors of the Boob Tube presentations (who cater not to their own tastes, to be fair to them, but to the masses, who disappoint me most gravely at the polls) are not in the only business I ever cared to show. My heart’s business has been always to show artfully crafted pieces of entertainment. High standards—too high, some have suggested to me—can keep an artist isolated. I have isolated myself, and my industry has given up trying to woo me back. I have not acted at all in almost two and a half years. I have cried about it and lain awake nights and brooded some mornings and afternoons. I have reasoned and rallied, bled and healed, railed and quietly accepted. I am feeling more peaceful about it than I have felt in ten years.
Partly because I am accepting that I am the artist I claim to be, and have proved it enough times. I want more. But I have no power left to snatch it. My work speaks for itself, and it is seen and heard or it is not. It could be characterized as a Buddhist or even Talmudic resignation. Or the Existential defiance of Sartre, or Nietzsche’s aggressive despair. My only comfort is in release.
When I feel I have finished my work, I feel better. When I take myself out of the theater, live and filmed, I feel better. When I disengage, I feel free. I have a household to run and family and friends to care for. I must take care of me and them.
I want you to find someone to fill my spot who wishes passionately to build your new theater and present exciting plays and players. I shall continue to support you with dollars, but I respectfully withdraw from active promotion. With a proper optimism, I consider that someday I may regain my enthusiasm for my own work and for the theater. When the big light comes back on, I’ll call you.
Stay well. And interested.
Sincerely, and with LOVE,
Daniel J.
If you feel it appropriate, do read this to the board.