Quick Q&A: Gavin Lawrence

Pure Confidence star Gavin Lawrence inspires talk about the legacy of slavery on-stage and off.

Were you aware of the history of African-American jockeys before playing this role?

Vaguely. It was an eye opener for me as it has been for most people working on the project. Most people had no idea that at a time when everybody was a good horseman – because that’s all they had – these guys were dominating that world and all the first winners of the Kentucky Derbys were African-American.

What attracted you to playing Simon?

Carlyle Brown and I had collaborated before on other plays of his. First of all, I’d be interested in being a part of anything he wrote. Then after actually reading this and finding a hero, someone who takes a hero’s journey with all its complexities….you wait as an actor for moments like that.

What makes the audience like and root for Simon so quickly?

Maybe it’s because he’s so bodacious and confident. He’s got pure confidence, like a Michael Jordan or a Tiger Woods. I think we tend to gravitate toward people like that, they make us feel more alive. He’s also earnest and sincere; even with all his boldness there’s a certain naïvete and innocence. He means what he says.

How would you describe the more positive aspects of Simon’s relationship with the Colonel, who buys him?

They have this wonderful thing in common, this love of horses, and at some point they do communicate as two men who have this common love. But the bottom line is that once the Colonel buys Simon he calls all the shots. That’s a big wake up call for Simon. In as much as they have this jocular thing going on, Simon’s freedom and bodacious way of going about life threaten the Colonel because Simon is his commodity. These jockeys were worth so much to their owners but it was all about the money. Especially in the first act, practically every scene is about money, about buying and selling and ownership and worth. It’s really important to do the research because otherwise I think an actor’s contemporary sensibilities about the relationship dynamics between owner and slave might skew what is specific to this piece.

When I saw the play, the audience applauded you mid-scene after your monologue riding a keg barrel as if it was a horse. Is it as physically challenging to do that scene as it looks?

The ride on the barrel is very challenging. This is my seventh production of this play. It’s kept me honest in my personal life because everything revolves around having the physical stamina to do that. I’ve asked everyone in the company: “Can you ride the barrel and do the monologue just once?”

photo: Carol Rosegg

Has Chris Mulkey, who plays the Colonel, been involved with the play as long as you have?

This is Chris’ second shot with the play; we did it together at Mixed Blood in Minneapolis back in January and this is pretty much a transfer of that production. It’s fun working with Chris! We have a great chemistry on stage and a great trust with each other. In the past some actors really had a difficult time with some of the language and some of the circumstances – they didn’t want to be vilified. Chris realized that in order for us to bring the honesty about the time period he couldn’t hold anything back. So there’s a harshness he brings to the Colonel that I think is really fresh.

There’s a good amount of comedy in the play. Do you play it as such?

God, no! We try not to. Some of it is just written in the characters and situations, but we try to play against all that. I certainly never wanted this to be the happy slave comedy. It’s about human beings trying to forge relationships in the worst circumstances which we do whether it’s slavery or the Holocaust or the Japanese being interned. Carlyle wanted to bring a new take, something different to this time period. Also it’s important to allow people to have an in to find their way into the play. I’ve found as a writer myself that when you beat people over the head with something that’s obvious they tend to not listen or to disassociate themselves. If you give them an in they get caught up and by the end of the play people are willing to have an open and honest dialogue about slavery and race and where we are now. That’s been the most satisfying thing for me, the contemporary post-show discussions about the legacy of slavery that we’ve had in different parts of the country.

Did you feel differences between audiences North and South, black and white?

Yes and no. In most of our previous productions, audiences came away wondering what Simon and Caroline do after the play ends. That was divided almost entirely along racial lines. Also there’d be situations where the white people in the audience didn’t know if it was okay to laugh and they’d look to the people of color in the audience for permission. Also there have been times when the African-Americans didn’t necessarily want to laugh about something in a room with white people.

The place it was most noticeable was in Montgomery, Alabama. It felt like they were stuck in 1968. Not that the people weren’t friendly, they were, but there was palpable discomfort and I got the sense that people were not ready to share about where we are now about race and the legacy of slavery.

Where do you think we are now?

I think we’re way behind; most of us really don’t want to talk about it nor to own its legacy, black and white. I don’t think it’s something we have grown with in terms of a dialogue as a country. It’s easy to pay lip service when it’s safe and popular but not when it comes down to an honest discussion about the legacy of slavery and why we’re the most powerful country on Earth. One of the reasons I’ve continued to work on this piece has been to contribute to that dialogue.