Q & A
David Lamb,
artistic director, Kavinoky Theatre
By Jana Eisenberg; photos by kc kratt

David Lamb.
David Lamb is a founder and the artistic director of the Kavinoky Theatre, which has been part of Buffalo’s theater scene for over twenty-five years. Lamb, sixty-five, is a native of England. He recently spoke about the upcoming season for his company, his life here in Buffalo, and his outlook on life and theater in general. We started off with the story of how, in the mid-1960s, he met his wife Marcia, a Buffalonian of Polish descent, in Dublin, where he was doing theater. She had won a scholarship to study there.

How did you decide to come to Buffalo?
After I met Marcia, I got a chance to come to Buffalo. UB has the world’s greatest James Joyce collection. I came over with the intention of extending my Ph.D. studies there. Except that I had to pass the GRE exams. Stupid exam! I wanted to continue seeing Marcia, so I stayed. We were married in 1968.

And how did you get started doing theater in Buffalo?
The following year, we went on a trip to Cambridge. On the boat back, we met a fellow who had a bloody great Afghan hound named “something something Prince of Pontybodkin.” He was Ron Brandow, a longhaired hippie, and a director from New York. We ended up doing skits and revues on the boat ride over, and we became good friends. A few weeks later, he got a job at D’Youville teaching theater. He then called me about a job. I met Jerry Marconi, the head of D’Youville’s theater department during this time, too. I started teaching English there.

He and Jerry asked me to do a show; I said, “You can’t afford me.” But we did Everyman in the First Presbyterian Church. This was still the sixties … We projected slides on the dome. I played Everyman straight, but all other roles were danced and sung; I’m still claustrophobic from being buried in a Plexiglas coffin.

Everyman ran for a packed three weeks. Then we did [The Importance of Being] Earnest, and I saw D’Youville’s theater for the first time. It was a mess—no thrust, no seats, linoleum floors; just awful.

Jerry and Ron decided that we could do semiprofessional productions. I would be the actor-in-residence, and they would raise money to restore the theater. But the following year everybody got fired, and they closed the theater. After barely surviving the 70s, they asked me back. I wasn’t interested, unless we could go ahead with the theater. It would be a straight professional company of professional local actors. I’d grown up with local theater, and I thought there was a place in Buffalo for a local company. Studio Arena was using out-of-town actors. I think Jeanne Cairns and I were the only two living and working locally then. It took until 1981 to get the money and start as “the Kavinoky.”

You met (late cofounder of Irish Classical Theatre Company) Chris O’Neill in Ireland, and you ended up sponsoring his brother Vincent O’Neill and his wife, Josephine Hogan, when they came over. You encouraged them to start their company … in Rochester. How has your relationship progressed over the years?
Vincent and I have directed each other, but we’ve never acted together. This season, we will for the first time in Heroes, by Tom Stoppard, adapted from Gerald Sibleyras. It could be dicey, but what the hell do we have to fight about any more? Vincent said he’s going to use an English accent, so I told Jo that I’m going to wear glasses and do an Irish accent. [Laughs] Paul Todaro will direct us; it’s about three World War I vets.

What do you think of the Buffalo theater scene now?
For a city like Buffalo to have a theater community at all is unusual now, so, bravo. There are problems. We’ve got a diminishing audience, and also the remaining audience is not terribly demanding—they aren’t insisting on the Hares, Stoppards, and Mamets. They are going to see the musicals. This makes it difficult as a business.

Can the community survive these difficulties?
If Buffalo doesn’t make it, theater’s not going to, either. Economic projections about Buffalo make the future look bleak; if you go by activity and talent, it looks good.

What are some of our other challenges?
There aren’t enough young leading men. Paul Todaro is one of the youngest, and he’s in his forties. Young leading ladies are being pulled out of university programs. Directors today don’t have degrees in theater or English. The university programs put a lot of people into theater, especially musical theater. But there are very few who’ve really developed their voices and bodies. We don’t have a big enough pick. That is good for actors, but I wish there was a way of putting all the best together in a company.

How do actors learn their craft today?
Actors used to train by signing on as low-paid labor with a company. Theaters can’t afford to develop talent that way; we’ve got to find it and bring it in. And meanwhile, we have to hire everybody. That’s my heartbreak; we need more families like the O’Neills to come to town.

What do you think happened with Studio Arena?
How can they possibly have let that go into the ground? It’s the theater’s fault, not just the artistic director, but the board, too. It cheapened itself.

What do you mean by that?
People ask what value the theater is to the community. “Value” has lots of different political meanings. The community has to bring something to the theater, or it ends up being cheapened. The value is taken out when we go from the theater business to the entertainment business. Although I do have respect for that—I might even spend my last ten years doing “entertainment.”

All my life, I thought theater was a “valuable” part of people’s lives. It’s a rude awakening that it’s not. The reason theater is dying is that people don’t put a value on it.

What is the benefit of the Kavinoky/D’Youville relationship?
If it wasn’t for the college, there wouldn’t be a theater. They handed me a brand new, restored theater—bravo, well done them. Sometimes it’s restrictive—the Kavinoky doesn’t exist as a separate entity.

What is the future for the Kavinoky?
It looks strong. We have a loyal subscription following, and we sell a lot of single tickets. But costs are high; people don’t want to pay more than $30 or $35. The $80 tickets at Shea’s suck up a lot of the theater dollars. I would imagine that hurt Studio Arena, too. But I‘m very upbeat. I think somebody will come along with young vision and take it in a different direction.
What are some of your hobbies?
Tennis. I don’t play rugby any more—that was my passion. My weakness is old cars. I used to race, and I like rebuilding them. When I was first acting, I used to import old MGs, then rebuild and sell them. When it became a business, the fun went out of it.
I read voraciously—mostly plays, which is time-consuming.

Who are some playwrights you admire today?
Itamar Moses. His writing is fabulous, but it’s so convoluted and esoteric. We are doing a play by Theresa Rebeck this season.

The legit theater is not where people are looking to make their base any more, either as writers, actors, administrators, or producers. They’ve got to make a living.

What has your career meant so far?
I could die tomorrow and wouldn’t be missed. Looking back at all I’ve done, and toting it up, it’s a hill of beans. But each moment meant something.

Jana Eisenberg is a freelance writer in Buffalo.


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