
Pass the word: Kerry Glamsch is back on stage.
The Tampa-born actor, who appeared regularly in area theaters in the 1980s, and who then was the victim of a brutal assault that seemed to end his career, is appearing for the next three weeks in A Number, Caryl Churchill's celebrated play about a father and his three sons — two of whom are clones.
Glamsch's return to the boards after 14 years away is nothing short of a miracle. Add the fact that he's appearing with fast-rising star Jack Holloway in a drama that only a few months ago had New York critics singing praises, and it becomes clear that A Number is the most important production of the new season. Serious theater-lovers won't want to miss it.
I talked with Glamsch after a rehearsal a few evenings ago at Gorilla Theatre (which is co-producing the show with Stageworks). In the small managing director's office, we covered a swath of subjects, from his first interests in the theater to his feelings about Tampa, his love of teaching and his devotion to screenwriting. Tall, slender and bearded, with a penetrating stare and an almost disconcerting ability to focus in on a subject, Glamsch, 45, is both eloquent and unpredictable.
One minute he's speaking about his methodical approach to teaching a new course at the University of South Florida, at another he admits that he once relocated to a small town in Arizona because a dream seemed to point him there. He underplays his talents — as actor, playwright, screenwriter, director and professor — and worries that a bit of philosophizing might sound presumptuous. But just the opposite is true: He's clearly earned his insights through hard thinking about his experiences — including the one that almost killed him. More about that in a moment.
First, his acting career. It began when Glamsch was a student at Tampa's Plant High School. He noticed a new drama teacher. "I fell in love with her," he says. "I just thought she was beautiful, and thought, 'Wow, who's this?' And started hanging around the drama department."
Classes in drama followed, during which Glamsch wrote a small play of his own. This was brought to the attention of a professor at Hillsborough Community College, who secured a one-year scholarship for the budding artist. Around this same time, Glamsch became a professional with a role in The Alice People's version of The Comedy of Errors.
Four years in the theater program at USF came to an end in 1984, at which point Glamsch began acting consistently for the Playmakers and The Tampa Players. Not making enough money from his theater work, he also taught and drove a cab. "I was so committed to doing theater, and working as an actor," he says, "that I didn't mind having holes in my shoes, not being able to afford to go to the dentist all through my 20s."
He also acted for Stageworks and for the touring company of Sarasota's Asolo Theatre. Wanderlust caused him to explore the country from time to time, but it basically seemed as if he would spend his adult life on the stage.
And then came the attack that appeared to change everything. In the summer of '91, Glamsch was acting in Atlanta and living in an apartment provided by a theater there. One Saturday afternoon he walked into the flat, locked the deadbolt with his key — and was surprised in the kitchen by a man with a knife. As Glamsch tried to unlock the deadbolt and escape, the intruder "ran at me and we fought and he stabbed me 11 times in the neck, in the shoulders."
Glamsch, unable to breathe, threw the attacker and himself through a plate glass window, hoping the noise would attract someone's attention. He fell into a hedge "and the guy cut my throat." A maintenance man called 911, and Glamsch was rushed to surgery, which lasted 12 hours. "They called my family, told them I wasn't going to make it," he recalls. Glamsch was unconscious for two weeks.
Afterwards — and following a bout of pneumonia caused by his lungs being flooded with blood — he discovered that he'd lost the use of his left vocal cord: "[The attacker] severed a nerve that collapsed the vocal cord, basically." For almost two years, Glamsch could only speak in a whisper, during which time he devoted himself to writing.
He penned a play called Amy's Pitiful Legs, which was eventually staged by Tampa's Warehouse Theatre, and worked for the Forest Service in Washington State.
After several more moves, he enrolled in the graduate creative writing program at the University of Texas in Austin, committing himself especially to screenwriting and fiction. With his voice having returned to a degree, he dared to take an acting class in the hopes that it would make him a better writer.
Then the acting bug awoke. Cautiously, Glamsch accepted some roles in student and independent films. In 2003, he returned to Tampa, not as an actor but as a visiting professor at USF. Another two years passed before he brought A Number to the attention of Stageworks' Anna Brennen; he thought he might direct it. Instead, she asked him to play one of its characters.
How does he feel about returning to the stage after more than a decade? "I feel excited by it," he says. "I feel much more centered now as an actor than I did 14 years ago. And I feel like this opportunity to work with Anna, with [director] Jim [Rayfield] and with Jack has been a special blessing to me."
But he's not committed to staying in Tampa; it all depends on whether he's offered full-time work at the university, or whether he decides to start a new theater company (he's talked with local arts czar Paul Wilborn about the possibility). In any case, he's already accepted a role in a Rhode Island theater's June 2006 production of Frozen — provided that the theater obtains the rights.
Glamsch is philosophical about the years he lost because of the stabbing. "Each thing that happened to me I tried to learn from," he says. "And I feel as long as I'm learning from it, it's not a tragedy. If I'm not learning from it, then it's tragic."
He notes that it was because of the stabbing that he became a screenwriter and playwright. And he adds that after his attacker was convicted, the man wrote to Glamsch, asking for forgiveness. Glamsch says the request led him to write a screenplay about the subject. The theme: "If forgiveness is empathy, yes, I've forgiven him. If forgiveness is excusing one from one's responsibilities, no, never."
So spread the word: Kerry Glamsch is on stage again. He's starring with the talented Jack Holloway in a play by one of England's greatest living writers. And he's in good voice. Wondrously good.
He deserves an enthusiastic welcome back.
This article appears in Oct 4-10, 2006.
