My dear friend Kay Bosse is being remembered tonight at the Human Race Theatre Company, where she had been a Resident Artist for many years. I was honored to be asked to create a video memorial for the event. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you, but perhaps this can reach a larger audience online. And for those in attendance, maybe this can help clear up any fast talking I was doing (I TRIED to slow down!), or being caught up in emotions.
![Human Race collage of Kay Bosse announcing the day of celebration of her life, Friday July 26](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Kay-Bosse-Tribute-Human-Race2-1024x936.jpg)
Here’s what I recorded (or attempted to record):
I first met Kay in 1992, after a performance of A Christmas Carol. My high school gave three seniors the opportunity to do mentorships, and I was one of the ones selected. The other two followed a doctor and a lawyer, and I remember thinking “Can I even do this for an actor?” They had to do some digging to figure it out, but someone eventually paired me with Kay. She was about to start rehearsals at the Human Race for The Elephant Man, as Mrs. Kendall, the woman that befriends John Merrick. We met, and I was instantly smitten.
The mentorship was originally planned for 1 or 2 days, but that didn’t line up easily with the rehearsal schedule of a handful of hours each day. So I was told, okay, go for 8 or 16 hours, your choice. I think I stopped counting at 96. Kay also took me with her to one of her auditions, which I’m pretty sure she didn’t get cast from. And that began some of the true mentorship. I got to know the real ins and outs of working to make a living in this industry, but also about the real friendships created – especially the foursome that was Kay, Scott, Kevin, and Diva Pat. God, how I loved Closer Than Ever with the four of you. I learned from Kay as she pivoted throughout her career, first more towards directing. Then she began adapting Steinbeck works to plays, and then later she became quite the Steinbeck scholar, publishing papers and giving lectures at conferences. And she helped me pivot, too, as I turned from acting to stage management, including bringing me along occasionally as an assistant director or stage manager. My first paid stage management gig was as a production assistant on the Race’s Sweeney Todd. Of course, Kay made sure to be in the audience…and managed to do so on that fateful night The Beggar Woman Didn’t Die. If you know, you know. Thank you to my Human Race friends for supporting the initial mentorship, my early career, and for providing this opportunity to celebrate Kay.
But beyond theatre, it’s the LIFE that Kay opened up to me that I remember most. That look of combined disgust and delight when you hadn’t seen or heard of one of her favorites – Scoff! – which she then had to immediately share with you. I spent a snow day tucked in at her house, with viewings of Edward Scissorhands and The Court Jester with Danny Kaye. “You haven’t read The Phantom Tollbooth? Or like, any Steinbeck, really?” She’s the reason I own a Swedish Chef clock, as we’d sit underneath it so often while catching up. Kay would NEVER let me live down that she sat through my performance in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. She’s also the ONLY actor whose headshot ever hung on my wall, right there among all the family photos. One visit back home, I sang her a silly tongue twister song I was trying to memorize, and to this day, I remember her gleefully re-enacting it for hours after as it was stuck in her head. (“Dee-dee-dee…”) And then there was Tom Waits. I never could quite appreciate him the way she did, but boy did she love his voice with a passion that you had to adore.
I got mistaken for Kay’s daughter Sarah several times, and it took me a long time to realize Kay was actually older than my mother. When I got married in 2012, there was no other choice for me but for Kay to be my Maid of Honor. She was even willing to carry a stuffed animal Eeyore down the aisle, which is a whole other thing I won’t even try to explain right now.
![A man and a woman in Hawaiian style clothing and leis head towards the camera. The woman is holding a stuffed blue Eeyore, than man a pillow.](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Kay-bearing-the-ring-bearer-Eeyore.jpg)
Several years ago I was interviewed for a backstage industry podcast – which never aired. During it I was asked who had been my stage management mentor early in my career. And I said I didn’t really have one. I had some strong stage managers that I looked up to, but I’d felt pretty on my own with no real stage management mentor in college, and I had felt pretty much like I had fended for myself along the way. But after the fact, I realized the question had been too specific. I had had a very strong mentor – just not specifically in stage management, but in life, especially in the theatre world.
And these days, some younger stage managers are pointing me out as one of their mentors, and I’m frankly surprised. However, I know that I’m known for happily talking to anyone about the field, letting them shadow me in the booth, how to survive, how to cherish the good relationships you find, and how to keep the joy through all the ups and downs. And a lot of that boils down to Kay, really.
And that’s what everyone could use. So, I ask you, in honor of Kay, to take time to talk to others about what you do, how you survive, how you thrive. If someone asks to shadow you at work, find a way to say yes if at all possible. My mentorship with Kay led to my parents offering to participate in a mentorship program for their business as well, totally unrelated to theatre. Please, share your knowledge. And what you love. And today or over the next few days, I want you to spend some time enjoying one of Kay’s many loves. Read or watch some Steinbeck. Watch Edward Scissorhands or The Court Jester. Do some “Bork Borks” along with the Swedish Chef or smile over some silly ditty that gets stuck in your head. Even go listen to some Tom Waits.
Cheers, Kay. I miss you, and have missed you for several years. I’m so glad we’re all taking this time to remember you. I love you.
![A woman is in a near hug with a horse, as another woman laughs behind her with an additional horse.](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Kay-with-Sunny-and-Erin-with-Chocolate.jpg)
![One woman holds a paper fan, another holds guitar and both are singing](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Wedding-Singalong.jpg)
![A woman plays kazoo and holds a blue Eeyore sutffed animal while a man next to her looks a bit uncomfortable](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/07-19-12_5934-1024x680.jpg)
![Four people in Hawaiian outfits, with Leis, smile at the camera.](https://7c3271.a2cdn1.secureserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/07-19-12_5826-scaled.jpg)
More…
Dayton Daily News: STAGE NOTES: Kay Bosse, member of Dayton Theatre Hall of Fame, dies at 75
A preview of one of her Steinbeck writings, on the music of Steinbeck.
Amazon link to John Steinbeck’s Global Dimensions, where she contributed a chapter on his theatrical vision (By the way, did you know Steinbeck’s wife Elaine was a stage manager? I did, thanks to Kay.)
PDF from the Hofstra University JOHN STEINBECK’S AMERICAS: A CENTENNIAL CONFERENCE (2002) where Kay presented “The Ritual Language of To a God Unknown: In Performance” – there was also a session mentioning Elaine being a stage manager of Oklahoma! on Broadway, too
Earlier this month, I also re-listened to Closer Than Ever – and frankly it’s been in my head ever since. Here’s what I wrote about it on July 3rd to my Facebook friends (and why I referred to the office chair above):
It’s been way too long since I listened to the Closer Than Ever soundtrack. I could only find one of my two cd set, but the entire thing is available on YouTube (of course it is). Had a great time reminded of the foursome of Kay Bosse, Kevin Moore, Scott Stoney, and Patricia M Linhart, and how much I loved watching the four of them in this one. And so many memories this pulled. Kay talking about her silly rolling chair choreography that the audience loved as well as being onstage with the bass player for another. Being stunned how much I cried the SECOND time I saw it, then realizing my grandfather had gone into the hospital for the last time between the two viewings, so “If I Sing” and “Fathers of Fathers,” along with much of the show hit much deeper. The hilarious “How we wish we were you watching us” during the workout number. Two of the songs were ones I ended up working on my own in voice class, including after I switched to stage management. (Still sing “The Bear, The Tiger, the Hamster and the Mole” a fair amount to myself.) ….How different this show hits – and yet not a ton different – when I myself am 49 now instead of in college. “The March of Time.” “I Wouldn’t Go Back”, and many more. And I’ve certainly listened to it many times in at various ages. Time to get it back more into my rotation again. Enjoy the trip down memory lane, or your first exposure to it!