A Motto to Live By

I bought my father a paperweight a few years before he died which read, “Whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re probably right.” I thought he’d love it, remembered the idea as something he’d taught me when I was a boy. (The quote has been attributed to Henry Ford.)

He didn’t like it, thought it was banal.

Brother and SIster

I will be talking about my father’s brother and sister, because they influenced my father—especially Fred, my father’s older brother.

My father’s father died before my father was born. Fred was more than a brother to my father, Fred was the male head of the family—the mother of Jarvis and Fred never married again, never again as far as I know had a male companion.

Marie, Jarvis’ and Fred’s sister, is little known to me. Perhaps others will comment about her here.

70 Years Ago This Coming April 24th

I found this telegram in my father’s folder of unfinished writings—he appears to have kept it on account of a few notes on the back for a play. Mean anything? Who knows?

My father was 23 years old, and the telegram is probably work-related.

So many bits of my father's history are like puzzles. If could piece them all together, I’d have a man’s life, perhaps.

Censorship

To what extent should I censor these entries? Not that my father had anything to hide, or that anything I’d write would trouble anyone. But this is not my life, it’s his, and I owe him more than respect.

On the other hand, this is my project. He’s gone, and truth is its own justification.

On yet another hand, this is my account of his life. I’m the one choosing what to reveal, and subjectively spinning his words and deeds and what others thought of him into a story with an arc.

Who’s life is it, anyway?

Who's There?

When I was young, and my parents and my brother and I were a suburban family of four, people calling on the phone often mistook me for my father.

Haven't thought of that resemblence in a long time. I saw a video of myself in a character role. I sound just like Jarvis.

Socrates Is Dead

I have found some lost plays of my father... Not sure he ever completed them... One is entitled:

"Socrates is Dead."

William J. ONeill

I wonder if the author of my father's Stage Acting Notes is the same William J. O'Neill who was "Business Manager" of a production of Shakespeare at Fordham College in the early 30s?

More "Notes"

Below is the Bibliography typed at the end of William J. O'Neill's 1932 acting notes, the subject of my previous post. Hyperlinks in many cases are to entire texts online, courtesy of Google—likely at least in part because these books from the 1930s and earlier have slipped into the public domain:

The Art of Play Production -- Dolman
The Technique of Dramatic Art -- Bosworth
Acting and Play Production -- Andrews and Weirick
Producing in Little Theatres -- Stratton
Modern Acting -- Chalmers
Practical Stage Direction for Amateurs -- Taylor
The Book of Play Production - Smith
Play Production for the Country Theatre -- Dolman
Problems of an Actor -- Calvert

(Enough hyperlinking…. You are welcome to search for the rest yourself….)

The Art of Pantomime -- Aubert
One Hundred Hints for Amateurs -- Benson
The Technique of Pantomime -- Lutz
Drama and Dramatics -- Fish
Effective Gesture -- Mosher
Speech Crafts -- Craig
The Technique of the One-Act-Play – Gannon, S.J.
Dramatics for School and Community -- Wise
How to Produce Amateur Plays -- Clarke
The Practical Theatre -- Shay
Acting -- Crafton and Roger
Psychology -- M. Maher, S.J.
Essentials of Effective Speaking -- Orr
Better Speech – Woolbert and Weaver

"Contingent Beings"

In 1932 someone named William J. O’Neill gave my father a loose leaf book of typed acting notes. I assume they are a copy, but they’re a copy which is typed-out manually—Forty-seven pages of notes, single-spaced.

The preface:

“These personal notes on acting are offered with the intention that the aspiring actor will find them helpful in perfecting his body, intellect and will. The body will be trained though the practice of the principles herein contained. The intellect will be exercised in the fulfillment of all the principles, but particularly, in the analysis of character, not only in the play at hand, but in the world itself. The will receives training by compelling the actor to do the matter required to make the play successful, and by strengthening personally the actor against the pit-falls of erroneous motives. As no contingent being is an end in itself, so acting is a means to an end, the perfection of our natures.”

Google at a Glance

“Jarvis Rice” isn’t the most uncommon name, so searching for his internet imprint involves discounting almost all hits resulting from his name.

I’ve only found one so far that is his: http://www.ibdb.com/person.php?id=57658. Dad was in a production of “The Good” on Broadway, eleven years before I was born. It closed within a month.

I’ll keep searching.

Time Slips Away

I’m Jarvis’ son, Bernard, and I can honestly say I never imagined my father’s legacy would seem to fade away so quickly. Fifty years ago he was in his prime, had many friends, many more who knew him by association or by reputation.

He’s fairly well forgotten now, the vagaries of existence. But the internet allows me to illuminate his life with his images and thoughts once again—he left a lot of papers and pictures behind, as well as an indelible impression on me.

This blog also allows me also to attempt some reconnection to my own Rice family. We are something, we Rices, have a way of living which distinguishes us. Of course, we’re not all alike, and it’s been so many years since I’ve spoken to most of you, I presume to know little about us all, actually. Perhaps this is a place for us.

From my removed point-of-view, I don’t see us as particularly social. I know I’m not—which is remarkable, considering I’m a rather public person, having spent a good part of my life on stage. But I don’t have the conversations I would have with people.

It’s occurred to me that, hosting a blog, I don’t have to. We can meet, reconnect, even without contacting one another: I welcome you to simply "lurk" as a story unfolds on this blog like a book. Isn’t the internet a marvelous medium?

But of course you are welcome to comment, add your own memories of Jarvis. And then there’s everyone who isn't family who may land here, old friends as well as those reading about a man they never knew.

I hope this site enriches your life, that you find time spent here worthwhile.