Meet Veteran Television, Film and Stage Star Gordon Clapp

Gordon Clapp, a North Conway native son, owns a thick, single-spaced résumé of remarkable roles. A veteran of television, film and stage, he remains a humble and thoughtful man, walking among us without the Hollywood swagger that players of lesser talent and larger ego often affect. With glowing reviews and innumerable awards, an Emmy among them, Clapp still favors the footlights of a regional theater (and the musty smell of an old wardrobe trunk). His intimate portrayal of Robert Frost in “This Verse Business” keeps him traveling and audiences enthralled. Take a bow, Mr. Clapp … and then another one …

Photo by David Mendelsohn

• I was the second of four. I grew up in a “neighborhood” — a mix of well-off and middle-class New England stock. My parents were New Yorkers looking for a quieter venue in which to raise a family.
• I loved making people laugh. My father recognized my potential and dropped me off at the local summer theater when I was 12.
• At the end of the season, I begged my parents to let me cut to the chase and go to New York with the rest of the company. My dad talked me off the ledge, and 44 years later, I made my Broadway debut.
• My real training was acting in as many plays as I could. I carry all of my experience from role to role. Every role is a learning experience. And every actor I work with is a teacher — good or bad.
• Agents?  I’ve had a few. Three in Toronto, four in New York, and three in Los Angeles. I’ve been let go by one. One retired. One stole money.
• The “I’ve made it!” moment has happened a few times: my first Equity contract at the Neptune Theatre in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  My first film role in “Running” with Michael Douglas.
• Ironically, I had a role in a low-budget feature at the same time. It was titled “Return of the Secacus Seven,” and was filmed in North Conway. It was John Sayles’ first feature and it became a huge cult hit. It did far more for my career than “Running.”
• The biggest moment came when Gail O’Grady called me at 6:30 one morning to say that we had both been nominated for supporting actor Emmys for “NYPD Blue.”
• My gateway to a character is often [the] voice. A particular prop or piece of wardrobe can open a door. But I try to identify the character’s threshold of insanity, what makes him “mad”? What about him will engage the audience and further the story?
• I still want to get it right. There’s no such thing as a perfect round of golf. There’s always a shot that got away. I think the same shot haunts every actor.
• I’m not good at turning down work. Parts are rarer and often smaller for older actors. But if I don’t feel at home with the dialogue, I won’t want to meet that challenge. Good writing can lift mediocre acting — the opposite is rarely true.
• Hollywood is a bit like Vegas. The only reason I went there was to hit the jackpot. I’m a Nordic soul. I missed the seasons. It’s hard to believe I was there for 25 years. I hit the jackpot with 12 years playing a gift of a character on an all-time great series. But I left a wonderful career behind in Canada. It would never have been as lucrative, but I might have been more at peace.
• I would have to say that my favorite role is that of Robert Frost. His voice and his manner come easily to me. The only non-New Englander of the bunch is Dave Moss. I had fun with the flat Chicago dialect.
• There’s no fourth wall in the play. I arrive on stage and greet the audience. I survey the faces in the first few rows and I find the two or three kindred spirits who will help me through the night. It never fails. I call them “Frostaceans.” Many of them knew or saw him when they were students or audience members or neighbors late in his life. In Frost, I found a love of wit and metaphor, common values, a figure overcoming tragedy and sadness—and a character I wouldn’t be too old to play for at least 20 years. We ain’t done yet.
• I got to “train” with an Equity company and attend acting classes with a minor acting guru. I played a major role at the penultimate production — the 12-year-old son of a French Canadian vaudeville family —in Samuel Taylor’s “The Happy Time.”
• It’s often been said that acting is not a creative art but an interpretive art.  I disagree. It’s said that Brando “created the role” of Stanley in “Streetcar.” Williams wrote it. Kazan directed it. Brando’s fingerprints are still all over it. But every actor who plays it creates a new Stanley. That said, a director has a strong hand in an actor’s work. I’ve worked with some of the top theatre and film directors. I listen. I follow their direction. But the final product —good or bad—is mine.

Becoming Robert Frost in “This Verse Business”

Clapp says his one-man show on Robert Frost came out of “a 40-year itch to bring my favorite poet to the stage.” His “obsession” with Frost began in high school when assigned Frost’s dark poem “Out, Out —”. “When I went away to boarding school, I took Frost with me and he brought me home,” says Clapp. He read the three-volume biography of Frost by Lawrence Thompson. (“It was riveting. Detailed but harsh.”) He listened to recordings of Frost’s talks. “That was a voice I knew,” he says. “I promised myself I would do something with it once I could feel comfortable as the older Frost. Eventually, a script “fell into my lap”,” he says, and he began work on it with playwright A.M. Dolan. Over the course of two years, they pulled together a “skeletal” performance of what would become “Robert Frost: This Verse Business.”

In 2010, Peterborough Players staged the first full production under the direction of Gus Kaikkonen. Then came bookings in regional theaters, colleges, town halls, church basements, pubs and living rooms. “We won Best Production at New York’s 2013 Solo Festival,” says Clapp. “There’s no fourth wall. I arrive on stage and greet the audience. I survey the faces in the first few rows and I find the two or three kindred spirits who will help me through the night. It never fails.”

CREDITS: Thanks to the following members of the Peterborough Players (on whose stage the photo on the previous page was taken): Beth Brown, advancement director; Tom Frey, artistic director; Bridget Beirne, marketing director; and Keith Stevens, managing director.

Gordon Clapp: The Rest of the Transcript

We always get great answers we can’t use from the interviews that become the copy portion of our monthly Transcript department (photographed and compiled by David Mendelsohn) in New Hampshire Magazine. But rarely is a transcribed interview as full of color and fascinating detail as Gordon Clapp’s responses for our July 2022 installment of Transcript, so we gave it a light edit and decided to share it with our readers and any fans of Mr. Clapp or of his many memorable roles on stage and screen.

I was the second of four.  I grew up in a “neighborhood”  — a mix of well-off and middle- class New England stock. My parents were New Yorkers looking for a quieter venue in which to raise a family.

I loved making people laugh. My father recognized my potential and dropped me off at the local summer theater when I was 12.

I got to “train” with an Equity company and attend acting classes with a minor acting guru. I played a major role at the penultimate production — the 12-year-old son of a French Canadian vaudeville family —in Samuel Taylor’s THE HAPPY TIME.

At the end of the season, I begged my parents to let me cut to the chase and go to New York with the rest of the company. My dad talked me off the ledge, and, 44 years later I made my Broadway debut.

I was active in theatre through my time in High school and boarding school (South Kent) and became devoted to acting at Williams College. There was no major in Drama when I was there, but there was plenty of theatre. I spent the fall semester of my senior year as a member of the inaugural class at National Theatre Institute at the Eugene ONeill Theatre Center. My only other training was the with Uta Hagen in New York and Kurt Reis in Toronto. My real training was acting in as many plays as I could. I carry all of my experience from role to role.  Every role is a learning experience.  And every actor I work with is a teacher—-good or bad.

Agents? I’ve had a few. Three in Toronto, four in New York and three in Los Angeles. I’ve been let go by one. One retired. One stole money. Some individual agents have moved to other agencies and I’ve followed them. And in a few cases I’ve had opportunities to move up.

The “I’ve made it!” moment has happened a few times: My first Equity contract at the Neptune Theater in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  My first film role in RUNNING with Michael Douglas. (Ironically, I had a role in a low-budget feature at the same time. It was titled RETURN OF THE SECAUCUS SEVEN. It was filmed in North Conway, NH. It was John Sayles’ first feature and it became a huge cult hit. It did far more for my career than RUNNING.) But the biggest moment came when Gail O’Grady called me at 6:30 one morning to say that we had both been nominated for Supporting Actor Emmys for NYPD BLUE.

What drives me today? I still want to get it right. There’s no such thing as perfect round of golf. There’s always a shot that got away. I think the same shot haunts every actor.

My gateway to a character is often to do with voice. A particular prop or piece of wardrobe can open a door. But I always try to identify the character’s threshold of insanity. What makes him “mad”? What about him will engage the audience and further the story?

I’m not good at turning down work. Parts are rarer and often smaller for older actors. But if I don’t feel at home with the dialogue I won’t want to meet that challenge. Good writing can lift mediocre acting, but the opposite is rarely true.

Dave Moss in GLENGARRY, GLEN ROSS was a career highlight. Bullying Jeffrey Tambor and knocking heads with Liev Schreiber and Alan Alda was thrilling. And the nominations and awards for that performance were gratifying. I’ve played The Stage Manager in OUR TOWN three times. It’s a challenge every time to tame my emotions in that final scene. Johnny Moynahan in Jack Neary’s TRICK OR TREAT (Northern Stage and 59 East 59th) was written for me —literally—and it was one of the great rides of my career.

But I would have to say that my favorite role is that of Robert Frost.  His voice and his manner come easily to me. The only non-New Englander of the bunch is Dave Moss.  I had fun with the flat Chicago dialect. I used it again when I recurred as the Chaplain on CHICAGO FIRE. And, of course Greg Medavoy of NYPD BLUE. The writers had great affection for the character so I had a lot of fun getting out of whatever corner they would paint me into.

Hollywood is a bit like Vegas. The only reason I went there was to hit the jackpot. I’m a Nordic soul. I missed the seasons. It’s hard to believe I was there for 25 years. I hit the jackpot with 12 years playing a gift of a character on an all-time great series. But I left a wonderful career behind in Canada. It would never have been as lucrative, but I might have been more at peace.

My stock smart-ass answer to “theatre vs film” question is: “I prefer theatre everywhere except when I’m looking down at the check I’m about to deposit.” With the exception of a long-running series, the process in film and television don’t afford the time to explore and develop a character. In theatre days and weeks are available for a character to “slow-cook” like a good soup. In film and television, the read-through, rehearsal period, preview, opening night, run and closing night take place over a period of several hours. And there’s NOTHING that can replace the feeling of performing for a live audience. Seeing one’s work on film can never replace that.  When I’m on stage I’m in control of my destiny.  When I’m on film I’m at the mercy of the producers and editor.  Sometimes I’m simply gone!  Snip, snip. It’s always a little disappointing.

Dinner with my favorite actor?  It took me awhile to settle on this one. There’s Ralph Richardson, Olivier, Poitier, Jack Lemmon, DeNiro, Jackie Gleason, Newman and a host of day players who supported the great ones. But for me, it always comes back to Spencer Tracy. Solid, grounded, always within himself but invested in his partner. Makes me smile.

When I was still a student, I saw a performance that electrified me, that made me aspire to higher ground. The play was Bruce J Friedman’s STEAMBATH. The actor was Hector Elizondo. Twenty-eight years later we were in the same Emmy category for Supporting Actor in a Drama Series. He had won the previous year. He graciously predicted (correctly, I’m happy to say) that I would win that year (1998). Gratifying. I was in Frank Langella’s CYRANO as an apprentice at Willliamstown Theater. Staggering!  Len Cariou’s Sweeney Todd.  Breathtaking!

Regional theatre is a my favorite performing “platform.” Every theatre production offers membership to a new family. But regional theater means everyone is away from home. The spectrum of tales goes from broken marriages to lifelong friendships. And in every case a lifetime of memories. There have been film experiences like that as well. EIGHT MEN OUT, MATEWAN and SUNSHINE STATE were all “company” films. Being on the road means getting to know the other company members after hours.

Glengarry…..  I literally stumbled across Opening Night of the original Broadway production of GLENGARRY, GLEN ROSS in March 1984. All of the actors were new to me. Their collective impact that night was profound. I came away hoping that I would, one day, get to play one of those characters. The film is dark and moody. The play is aggressively energetic and bright with a dark finish. Ironically the most memorable scene in the movie is the sales meeting scene. It has the energy of the play, but it isn’t even IN the play. Joe Mantello directed an all-star cast.  He didn’t pull punches.  He got the job done.  We ran for five months to sold-out houses, great reviews and numerous awards and nominations.  It was thrilling.

If I ever attempt an autobiography or memoir, I will title it “PLACES!”—a play on the number of locations in which I’ve worked over the past 50 years and the stage manager’s call to the actors to “Get your ass to where you need to be for us to start the show!”

I had a small but fun role in FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS. General “Howlin’ Mad” Smith. I got to go to Iceland where the beaches resembled the black sands of Iwo Jima. Clint loves finding new talent. He auditioned dozens of actors in New York for that project. It was like winning the lottery. Mr. Eastwood was calm, focused, witty and easy to be around. There was no struggle. It was a pleasure.

There’s no substitute for good writing. I’ve bathed in praise for a performance secretly knowing that it was the writing, not I, who was the star. David Milch, John Sayles and, more recently Aaron Sorkin have lifted me higher. And there’s that Shakespeare guy. Ironically it was I who gave Detective Medavoy the stammer. I did it in the audition and David Milch ran with it. Medavoy was originally a guest role.  I stammered my way into a series regular.

ROBERT FROST; THIS VERSE BUSINESS came out of a 4- year itch to bring my favorite poet to the stage.  My obsession with Frost began in high school when we were assigned his poem “Out,out…”.  When I went away to boarding school, I took Frost with me and he brought me home. During a “down” time in the fall of 1977 I read the 3-volume biography by Lawrence Thompson. It was riveting. Detailed but harsh. I came across a few recordings of his talks. That was a voice I knew. I promised myself I would do something with it once I could feel comfortable as the older Frost. When I finally decided to address it, I had no idea how to begin. Someone heard me calling because a script fell into my lap from an old friend who was reading plays for a small theater on Cape Cod. The playwright AM (Andy) Dolan and I began working on the script. He had cobbled a wonderful piece from hundreds of hours of audiotapes of talks Frost gave during 25 years of “barding around” the country.  Over the next two years we managed to put together a few readings and skeletal performances, adjusting and editing as we went. In the Fall of 2010, Peterborough Players gave us our first full production under the steadfast direction of Gus Kaikkonen who gave the performance a new energy and sense of fun. Over the next ten years we had bookings in four more regional theaters, numerous colleges, one-nighters in performance centers, town halls, church basements, pubs and living rooms.  We won Best Production at New York’s 2013 Solo Festival.

There’s no fourth wall in the play.  I arrive on stage and greet the audience.  I survey the faces in the first few rows and I find the 2 or 3 kindred spirits who will help me through the night. It never fails. I call them “Frostaceans.”  Many of them knew or saw him when they were students or audience members or neighbors late in his life. In Frost I found a love of wit and metaphor, common values, a figure overcoming tragedy and sadness—and a character I wouldn’t be too old to play for at least 20 years. We ain’t done yet.

In the fall of 2019 I was playing J Edgar Hoover in a production of THE GREAT SOCIETY at Lincoln Center.  I was offered the role of Judge Taylor in the National Tour of TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD scheduled to begin in the Summer of 2020. My wife and I decided that 14 months with only occasional visits might not be good for the marriage. It was hard to turn down the opportunity, but a week later they asked if I would join the Broadway cast. Done. Then Covid hit. A year and a half later the company re-assembled with some old, some new cast members. We had our first performance on October 5 and closed “temporarily” on January 16. Judge Taylor was a gift role. Joining a partially established cast was interesting for me. The performance of my predecessor, Daikin Matthews, was indelible. It took me a couple of weeks to convince myself that MY Judge Taylor was “sea-worthy” but I had the endorsement of the right people. The power of Aaron Sorkin’s adaptation was profound. The production had a new resonance following the events of 2020 and January 6. It was an honor to have been part of this production.

It’s often been said that acting is not a creative art but an interpretive art.  I disagree. It’s said that Brando “created the role” of Stanley in STREETCAR. Williams wrote it. Kazan directed it. Brando’s fingerprints are still all over it. But every actor who plays it creates a new Stanley. That said, a director has a strong hand in an actor’s work. I’ve worked with some of the top theatre and film directors. I listen.I follow their direction. But the final product —good or bad—is mine.

Once a play opens, its performance is written in stone. Energy and intensity can vary from night to night but text and staging remain the same. The stage manager is in charge of making sure things stay consistent. But the audience is the final character in the play. Their presence and response can have an impact on the performance.

My cell is an 818 number. That’s a Los Angeles exchange. I was a Valley Girl for 25 years.

 I have no specific ambition for the future. Every wrap or closing night feels like retirement now. I’m in a wonderful marriage with a beautiful, bright and talented wife. She’s the Art Manager at Boston Children’s Hospital. We’ve always been challenged by time apart. It’s always a consideration in my deciding what to do next. But I still have another 16 years before I’m too old to play Frost! Maybe I’ll get it right next time.