“Wildly Nostalgic Commentary on Fiddler on the Roof at The Lexington Theatre Company”
As observed with a maximum of self-indulgence by Kevin Lane Dearinger
An observer observes, watching at a distance from “behind the curtain,” eliminating self from the recorded observations. The observer stays objective.
This observer, however, has a long if ancient history with Fiddler on the Roof, and his observations of rehearsals at The Lexington Theatre Company have a deeply personal resonance.
So, for the first and probably only time, indulge me as I step out with scant modesty and present myself in first person.
Hi, I’m Kevin. I was a professional actor for many years. Who knew? Did my long-winded and obscure theatre stories give me away?
I retired from the theatre long ago, however, and I gratefully collect my Actors Equity pension.
I first played in Fiddler on the Roof fifty-two years ago, when I was a senior at the University of Kentucky. I stepped into a budget touring company as a local jobber at twenty-five dollars a week, playing several small roles, including one of the two Yeshiva boys in act two. Very small roles, but I took even the smallest opportunity to be on stage very seriously. That production moved on in its wobbly fashion to its next tour stop, but in its wake, I cut the collars from all my shirts and sported an improvised Anatevka look on campus for many months afterwards. I wanted to remember Fiddler.
Kevin Lane Dearinger in Fiddler on the Roof
I joined the union, became a professional actor, and moved to Manhattan. I was cast in a Broadway show that never made it to Broadway, and as consolation and because I liked to keep working, I joined a touring company of Fiddler, traveling around New England, but centered in Boston. This time I was Sasha (two lines!), the Russian Orthodox priest in a fast crossover, a crowd-scene villager in an unconvincing beard, and the Russian Tenor, with a showy solo in “L’Chaim.” I got to jump up on a tavern table and sustain a lovely high note for a very long time. Always an observer, I watched the actors who were playing the central roles in the show and saw how the story moved them, every performance. I felt a bit left out, and my “big note” felt like a bit of showing off. In retrospect, it was. Still, I was grateful to be in Anatevka again. I cut the collars off a few more shirts.
I kept busy with my career—Broadway, national companies, and some wonderful regional theatres. I worked with talented people. I learned. I had a few years off from Fiddler, but it eventually called me back.
My agent sent me to audition for a revival at the Paper Mill Playhouse in Milburn, New Jersey. I had done a few shows there. The theatre was commuting distance from Manhattan, and it had a reputation for strong companies and lavish productions. Paper Mill has always been a great gig. I was sent in to read for Fyedka. I was told that in this Fiddler, Fyedka might sing the Russian Tenor solo. I still had the notes—or note. I thought about hoisting myself up on that tavern table again.
Fyedka is a lovely part (exquisitely played at The Lex by Wesley Byers), and I would have been honored to play him, but I was restless to find a new place for myself in Anatevka.
I was asked to come back in two weeks for a second audition, to match me with possible Chavas. I went home and started growing a scruffy red beard. I cut the collar off one more shirt. I explored “Miracle of Miracles,” a song I had long ago learned. I told my agent, “I want a chance to be Motel, the tailor. I want to move closer to the heart of the show.”
The producers were mystified but open-minded. The audition came. I sang Motel’s song. I read Motel’s scenes. And—rare occurrence—I was offered the role at the audition. (Alert the Ego Police!) The producer and the director congratulated me and promised me that I would be playing opposite the Tzeitel of one the finest actresses in New York. My heart raced. I felt so lucky.
Kevin Lane Dearinger in Fiddler on the Roof at Paper Mill Playhouse
Rehearsals were so different this time. Many in the cast had been playing in Fiddler for decades—Broadway, revivals, stock, touring companies—but every company develops its own chemistry. The director was kind, knowledgeable, and helpful, and our Tevye watched me with supportive amusement—he had seen quite a few Motels— but I quickly discovered that my performance depended entirely on the eyes of my Tzeitel, a beautiful young woman and brilliant actor of absolute honesty. Her eyes gave me everything I needed. She was my strength—the inspiration and motivation for everything I wanted my performance to be. I was so lucky.
I loved every moment of being Motel and still feel an adrenaline rush when I think of the explosion of happiness that is “Miracle of Miracles.” I remember the joy I felt when I revealed my new sewing machine and the pain of the farewell scene.
But it is the end of the first act that stays with me most clearly. Putting on my hat and feeling the weight of what was to come. Tzeitel taking her place by my side. Her face behind the veil. Being lifted up in a chair and carried around the stage in celebration. Sitting by Tzeitel as the ferocious bottle dancers crawled directly in our direction. Searching for some hope in her eyes in the heartbreaking last moments of the scene. Her hurt. Her strength. Her love.
Yes, at last I found my way to the heart of Fiddler on the Roof, and Fiddler on the Roof stays in my heart. I am so lucky.
The company of Fiddler on the Roof in rehearsals at The Lex
Observing the wonderful cast of The Lex’s meticulously crafted production is a richly emotional experience. I thrill to every moment of discovery and honest human life I see on the stage. Sometimes, I weep a bit with joy. This company is a gift.
A final thought before I creep back into the cool shade of anonymity.
Ari Barmor plays Motel, the tailor, at The Lex. It’s his first time playing the role. Last winter, he told me, he cheered his brother’s performance as Mendel in Fiddler—at the Paper Mill Playhouse in Milburn, New Jersey! It was the company’s first revival of the show in forty-one years—the first since the 1983 production that gave me such pride. I love the comforting reach of coincidence.
As I watch Ari discover and cherish his own Motel, and as I watch him watch the vibrant Tzeitel of Eliza Levy, my old pride becomes a new pride. I hope Ari knows who will be cheering loudest for his performance.
What will he remember of playing Motel when he thinks of Fiddler forty years from now? I think I know.
Every minute a “wonder of wonders.”
Aren’t we lucky!
The Lexington Theatre Company's production of Fiddler on the Roof will be presented for six performances at the Lexington Opera House, July 11-14.
Kevin Lane Dearinger is a retired actor, singer, and teacher. His published works include four theatre histories, six volumes of poetry, six plays, and two memoirs, Bad Sex in Kentucky and On Stage with Bette Davis: Inside the Fabulous Flop of Miss Moffat. For many years, he sang to the back row, acted from the bottom of his heart, and danced, as one astute critic put it, “with athletic grace.” In his soul, he still does all three. He counts among his blessings the privilege of sitting in on rehearsals with The Lexington Theatre Company. He owns at least one collarless shirt.
