We lost a longtime friend yesterday.
His name was Jonathan McMurtry and he was an extraordinarily fine actor. He was a kind and lovely human being. In the last 24 hours, Don and I have done nothing but talk of Jonathan. And the Old Globe, where Jon worked off and on for over 50 years.
I’m not even sure what age Jon was – I’d say close to 80. Don first met him when he was 18 years old. Working as an apprentice at the Old Globe in San Diego, Don understudied Jon in two roles. Jon welcomed Don and was kind and complimentary. That kindness helped a kid who had been living a tough life after his parents’ divorce; moving from apartment to apartment, each worse than the last, on welfare, feeling insecure, not knowing his place in the world, to feel that he just might be an actor. He might have a path ahead of him, a direction in which to go.
Don is 68. He has known Jonathan for 50 years.
Jonathan was a rare bird. He loved being an actor. I never heard him complain about the life. He lived to work. He often looked like he’d slept in his clothes, smoked incessantly, loved doing the daily crossword puzzle, and more than any other actor I’ve known, had no agenda other than to do the work and do it well and that work included his fellow actors, actors that he always treated with respect. He never complained. Never trashed others. Never had an axe to grind. He just showed up, loved rehearsal, loved tech rehearsals, loved the run of the play. He was brilliant at Shakespeare. He was an incredibly funny clown. And he could rip your heart in two in a serious role.
I worked with him countless times. I loved coaching him. He didn’t need much coaching to tell you the truth, but he welcomed it and always took my notes to heart and incorporated them in his performance.
He and Craig Noel, the founder of the Old Globe were mentors to my husband. Craig has been gone for several years. Jonathan, along with Kathy McGrath (who died two years ago) and Richard Easton, were for several years unofficial resident company members, by virtue of their decisions to live in San Diego. Jonathan was there the longest. He was the heart of the Old Globe. All of them, along with my husband, were made Associate Artists of the Old Globe Theatre because of their longtime commitment to the theater and the excellence of their work.
This is how much Jonathan loved being an actor. I’m quoting from Don’s Facebook post about Jon:
“When he was young and first auditioned for the Old Globe, he was sent to the office of then theatre manager, Adrienne Butler. She told him in her refined and slightly imposing British accent, that it was decided he could join the company that season. Jonathan was over the moon as he sat there, then sheepishly asked how much money that would be. She replied that for the season it would be $500 dollars. He squirmed a bit, then said, “I’ll have to ask my father for the money.” She looked puzzled then replied, “No, no, Jonathan, we’re going to pay YOU $500 dollars.” That’s right. He would have gladly paid for the privilege just to act. I am very sad today. A part of my youth seems to have ended. Bless you, Jonathan, for being there at the very start, and for your kindness to that 18 year old.”
The death of Jonathan is hitting us hard, but especially so for my husband.
I was lucky enough to be at the Globe during its heyday. The artistic triumvirate of Jack O’Brien, Tom Hall and Craig Noel ran the Globe and there was a feeling of family there. I was welcomed with open arms by everyone, including Jonathan. It’s not the same place anymore and that change was already happening when Don and I decided to move East. No theatre can stay the same, not with changes in management. And you can’t go home again. But Jonathan reminds us of the Globe at its best: a home for actors, a place where well-known and not so well-known actors returned again and again. Where actors were celebrated and Shakespeare was played under the stars. Where all of us felt – and much of this was due to Jack and Craig – that we were pursuing something noble, something important. Where excellence was celebrated.
Jonathan was loved by the people of San Diego. Rightfully so. His death is a profound loss to the community and to all of us who knew and loved him. The photo at the top of the post was taken in 2008 when a man I’d never worked with before, Darko Tresnjak, asked me to come out and coach the Shakespeare Summer Rep. Rick had suggested that Darko call me. I had been away from San Diego for seven years. When I arrived, I met mostly new-to-me actors, but there were some old friends there, including Jonathan. How happy I was to see him!
One of my favorite remembrances of Jonathan: We were rehearsing Henry IV, Pts. 1 & 2. Jack was directing. Don was a member of the cast, as was Jonathan, as was John Goodman. John Goodman had a scene with Jon. They started to run the scene and Jonathan’s line readings and his comic timing resulted in Goodman collapsing in laughter. We laughed as well. They’d start again. Laughter. Start again. Laughter. None of us, including Jack O’Brien, could stop laughing. Jonathan was that good. It is still vivid in my memory all these years later. I remember where I was sitting. I remember exactly where Goodman and Jon were in the rehearsal room – downstage left.
Rest in Peace, my friend. You have blessed so many with your presence, with your kindness, your talent, your compassion. I’m so grateful to have known you.
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I can’t close without mentioning that today is the birthday of my dear, beloved sister, Meredith. Happy Birthday, little sister!
Happy Wednesday.
