I'm Not Dead... Yet! (53 page)
I flew in just as Iowa was hit with the 500 year flood.
The talented director Randal K. West, who was also the artistic director of The Stephen Sondheim Center for the Performing Arts, had a terrific summer program for college interns. This was the first time I had the opportunity of hearing my music the way I had written it, with a chorus of twenty singers and dancers and terrific new orchestrations by musical director Justin Hill for a big and very talented band—all too expensive to pull off in New York. How exciting to see my musical up on its feet, the way I envisioned it in my mind!
Audience members would meet us in the street and hold in-depth conversations about the text of my show. The community in Fairfield, Iowa—the home of Maharishi University—understood my piece better than I could ever have imagined. We received standing ovations every performance of our two-week run.
Then I had to immediately go back to L.A. to begin a very fast post-production schedule on the film I had just directed. A certain producer had gone ahead with
Billy
as if he had the Graham family’s cooperation to make the film on the life of ‘a young Billy Graham.’ I was later astounded to learn that nothing I had been told was in writing. No matter how we cut the film to make it a better movie, the next thing we would find out was that some of our producers were ‘making nice’ with not only the Graham family members, but preachers all around the country, having them come into the editing room—to make changes. It was insane. Artistically, it was a tug of war for every single frame. And even though I lost in the end, I can still appreciate what we all accomplished. As the film now sits on DVD, I can say, it’s beautiful to look at, and I’m very proud of my cast and crew. The experience was a bit
heart-b
reaking—and I mean that literally as well as figuratively.
A
fter what we thought were the last of the Graham ‘family changes’ editorially, I went to New York for the final mix.
Suddenly, the music in the film had become an issue as well. I had a temp score with period songs which contributed to the authenticity, but one of the titled producers was also the ‘music supervisor.’ This was nothing but an opportunity for an opportunist. In other words, the album had nothing to do with the film artistically. Absurd
modern
country songs were being placed in a
period
film.
Sad. And painful. My heart… This is what one gets for coming in, last-second, to direct a film—I should’ve known better. (Truth is—I’d do it again. The pre-production and production was wonderful, and my son got an education of a lifetime.)
Then from New York’s mixing stage, I moved back to Boone, North Carolina where Zephyr
had blossomed into a young man who was now interested in the arts.
What better place to be if y
ou are interested in the arts? New York.
Again?
Again.
I let NYU know I was available again, and because of the good graces of Chair Lamar Sanders, and Dean Mary Schmidt Campbell, I was offered my job back. 2008. We moved back to New York. This time, faculty housing was down in the financial district. Water Street.
It was a phenomenal experience;
NYU had apartments in a building for faculty and graduate students way downtown and this was a great opportunity to learn a lot about a part of the city both Karla and I never had the chance to discover.
The first bus that left Water Street for Tisch was at 6:05 a.m. That was
my
bus.
All of my classes were going extremely well and life was good for all of us.
Then,
my worst nightmare.
We found out Karla needed thyroid surgery. Even if it wasn’t cancer, Karla’s vocal cords could be damaged from the operation. Now, for the first time in our marriage, I was the medical advocate. She had the surgery in October and we waited for the results. Karla came through the surgery like a champ with perfect vocal chords and most importantly, when the biopsy finally came back—no cancer!
