You were my first real drama teacher. To me and my peers at the time (1966-70) you were always "Mr. Lowery". I never heard of “Buckets” until much later on the website. I think that if you had gone by that name, I would have seen you with very different eyes. Buckets…hmmm, sounds like a clown name. To my perception, you were more serious than that. As evidenced by the splash page of this site, theater was your church. You were uncompromising in your devotion to finding truth. As your student, I hadn’t the inner development to truly appreciate this, but years later when I visited your class as a guest and we hung out afterwards, well, we communicated from a place of truth - very profound, but totally relaxed, joyous, and something I longed to find and share with you. Much love and light to you, Mr. Lowery.
of the Greasepaint
Night after night, from the wings, I watched you sing Who Can I Turn To? in rapt amazement. What a gift you are and have always been. I love you and will always miss you...
had the extreme good fortune to know Buckets during the best years of
my life, (1967-1972). The Ring was "alive" with passionate
teachers, talented students, and the unique, extraordinary, lovable,
wild and crazy Buckets Lowery. To work for him in those incredible musicals
and plays he directed was the ultimate learning experience. To work
along side him in "Sacrifarce," "Greasepaint" and
"The Boyfriend" was the ultimate privilege. I am both blessed
and honored to have had Buckets in my life.
Ritter of Ringstetten "Ondine"
because of those special times at the Ring, but I moved back years ago-
and would run into Buckets at Xmas parties, Foxes, just around, last time;
awhile ago- I was walking down Lincoln Road, (he'd directed a show there)
late, and all of a sudden barreling across a crowd.... "Cohen....
you old broad!" I didn't have to look, just smiled from ear to ear,
turned around, big smile, big hugs, sincere honest care, love and talk,
made my evening, even just thinking about it now makes me smile.... what
a special friend we all got to enjoy and share.
sincere wishes to the family for their sadness, I hope they find peace and joy in the lives Buckets touched in many ways.
Becky Cohen (Ring 71-75)
I was not expecting
to find what came in the envelope from the Ring today. It caught me
totally off guard and made me very sad to say the least. I had the good
fortune to be in Mr. Lowery's very first acting class at the University
which he taught in the Spring of 1963. No one called him "Buckets"
then and I am wondering when and how the nickname came to be. I was
thrilled to be in the chorus of his first production of The Hostage.
Every night the audience went wild as the "lobsterscope" began.
For me the experience was pure joy. I also worked on "props" for the Glass Menagerie and other areas of various productions as the
years went by.
Leave it to Buckets
Lowery to make 'a sow's ear out of a silk purse'. I was, for all intents
and purposes, the quintessential 'princess' when I starting studying
with Bob Lowery. He always pushed me, pushed me to work and play a multitude
of different characters. And when he cast me in a very small role as "Colette the Irish whore" in "The Hostage" he made
me work harder than I had in all his other productions combined.
Performing in shows with you was almost as great a privilege as being in your class. I'll never forget when we did Brel in Washington D.C., and you came to me for a "blow job" (translation: blow dry your hair). You're in my heart, Buckets. With love and respect,
Barbara Turner (Turvett), class of 1972 New York City
was one of those special fellows that stays in your soul. I remember him
once saying to me "good concentration" when rehearsing a scene.
I thought I won a Tony!! The fact that I remember this some 28 years later,
shows the measure he had in my life. Although his loss will be felt by
many, his influence will live on in the souls of many actors for years
grateful I got to tell Buckets...well, not everything, but some things.
The last time I saw him he was at Fox's, the little pub where we hung
out after rehearsals and performances. I was with friends and he was alone
and I told my friends to run along so Buckets and I could hang out again
for a bit. Buckets was especially wistful as he reminisced about his different
students and at some point he asked me, "Di...did I ever...teach
ya anything?" I didn't know whether to laugh at the question or bop
him one in a joking fashion. Instead I let him have it. I told him what
he taught me. Not everything, but at least some things. And the more time
passes, the more things I remember.
1st real meeting with Bob Lowery was a disaster. As a new freshman in
the fall of 1964, my 1st Drama class was Drama 101 taught by Bob Lowery.
It was held in the Music Building and on my 1st day of classes on the
U of M campus, I was eager to begin my academic career (especially with
a Drama class). Earlier that morning, I bought supplies in the Student
Union Book Store and headed over for the class. On the way over, a famous
Miami downpour came. Having no umbrella with me, I got soaked as well
as my supplies in a paper bag and soon they were scattered on the ground.
What made matters worse was that I was wearing a Madras top with a skirt.
Now those of you that remember when Madras was "the thing",
know that the "enchantment" of Madras is that the dyes bleed
and indeed they did. Soon I was a vision of red, blue and green dye, drenching
my skirt, under clothes, body, and even shoes. Still determined not to
miss the class, I finally got to the door and when the eyes of Bob Lowery
met mine, he looked as though he was going to say "who the hell are
you?" but he kept himself in check and I slithered into a seat. He
could contain himself no more and said to the class "if you have
to come to class looking like that (pointing to me) don't bother!"
It was a crushing blow for me and needless to say, no matter what I did
that semester, or continuing with Drama 102, (which he taught) never fully
erased that 1st impression of me. It wasn't until the next school year
that things turned around. In another Drama course taught by a new instructor
(Kenneth Kurtz) we were to work on crews for the productions to get our
credits. Well, I still have that unfinished apron from 7th grade sewing
class around somewhere, so sewing costumes was not an option and I am
not handy with tools (although I have gotten better by default) so my
mission was handling props for "Oh What A Lovely War" that Bob
Lowery was directing. I am sure that when he found out that I would be
responsible for over 100 props for the show, he smelled disaster. The
show probably had more props than any play known to mankind complete with
rifles and a mock up of an arm blown off in battle. Well, somehow I pulled
it off and on his visits back stage he gave me the look of approval. If
a rifle were missing, I would track it down and run the props over to
the actors so they wouldn't miss a cue. I was doing it, not for the grade
for the class but to redeem myself in Bob Lowery's eyes and I succeeded.
The last night of the show, he gave me flowers (uncharacteristic of him)
and finally I was worthy. The next play that he directed, "The Knight
of the Burning Pestle", I was his AD and in all my years at the U
of M, he continued to be the one person that I was in awe of and still
am. It was an honor to be associated with him in any play that he directed;
particularly "The Trial" which I consider to be at the apex
of his talent as a director. The meaning of the play, the production of
it and the events that took place at the time of the run, (LBJ deciding
not to run for re-election and the assassination of Martin Luther King)
are part of my life. Knowing that Bob Lowery is no longer gracing this
earth, is a tragedy. But, having had the privilege of knowing him as an
individual and gaining his approval, is for me, a celebration of his life.
Bob, I'll always think of you with that devilish smile on your face, sometimes
with a cigar in hand, with enthusiasm given to students that projected
the love of theatre that continues to enrich my life today.
Marilyn Meyers (1964-1969)
Off Those Damn Blue Glasses!"
Buckets was my first
acting teacher - the guy who introduced me to a world I would inhabit
for the next twelve or thirteen years. I met him in 1967 and up until
that time, all I knew about acting I'd learned from movies or TV.
I thought I'd take
some acting classes because it would be easy, and a good way to meet
girls. It was, but then I found myself in a class with Bob Lowery, and
my life changed forever. I had already finished a degree in education,
but it wasn't what I wanted to do. I hadn't a clue what I really wanted
to do, but Buckets changed all that for me, and I am eternally grateful.
evening pulls the curtain... and pins it with a star, we'll always love
you... no matter where you are.
years is a long time. That's how long ago I graduated from the University
of Miami Drama Department. I'll never forget my first day - it was August
1975 - there was an audition. And packed in a small room, each of us waiting
for our name to be called, were a bunch of strangers, from different states,
different childhood's, different experiences, each having completed the
required curriculums of high school and each of us privileged to have
the gift of a college education before us. Today, maybe I finally fully
understand that privilege.
Today is May 2, 2002. A close friend from college who I met that first day in the audition is on the phone. He tells me Buckets died last night. We are amazed at how much time has past, we comment that in 3 years on the 30th anniversary of that audition we must mark it with a celebration. And as we talk I feel myself breaking down. I'm having trouble-saying goodbye, my voice is shaking and I am in pain. Why do I feel this loss so deeply? After all, that was a long time ago, I've lived so many lifetimes since then, have been so many places, seen so many things, you know, blah, blah, blah .
It was a delicate time, that time between being a child in your parent's home and being an adult in the adult world. Not everyone is given the privilege of the college interlude, the time to discover who you are and who you can become before being thrust into the exciting and often unforgiving world.
Clay to be molded? Putty in the wrong person's hands? For us - there was Buckets.
The first thing you figured out was that you had to find a way to shine so that he would notice you. He didn't give away his attention lightly. He was seemingly tough, coarse and hard hitting when he didn't like your work. There was an energy that surrounded him and you either responded to it or were repulsed by it. But you never didn't notice it. If you were lucky enough to be noticed by him - then you were really in for it! Tricks didn't work for him, games weren't of interest to him, and if you couldn't be honest he would go after you without mercy until you realized honesty was the only policy or you ran away "in pursuit of other interests".
So now it's May 2002 and he's gone. I'm wandering around in my bathrobe, and I had so many important things to do today that suddenly are not so very important anymore. And I really don't know what to do with myself. I hug my children. I tell my husband about Buckets I look at my phone book. I flip through it. I pick up the phone ..
and call a number is so & so there? No, I'm sorry - oh! Wait a minute - she just drove up. I call another number.. (Haven't dialed this work number in at least 15 years) a receptionist answers "CBS" "Is so & so there?" "So & so isn't in today would you like to leave a message?" As I stumble to explain I'm a really old friend and barely get out my first name she says, "Canyouholdplease?" I can hear the surprise in her voice when she returns to the line "Actually so & so just called on the other line, he told me to get your number, he'll call you immediately" .and so it went all day.
One so & so was in a cab in Manhattan, another standing by the water in Sarasota - nobody was where they were supposed to be but everyone connected immediately. I called one person and their other line rang in someone from school who it was explained to me was REALLY a surprise since he actually thought that person was dead. (I didn't ask.) I'm sure Buckets was very amused by this. I pictured him sitting on a cloud up there with one of those old telephone operator headsets on madly connecting lines as I was dialing numbers. But every voice (some I had not heard in 24 years) echoed the same feeling. Maybe they didn't all wander around useless in a bathrobe all day like I did, but every person upon hearing the news felt something inside of themselves, something we share that no amount of years, no menial nor grand job, no number of marriages, change of addresses nor birthing of children can alter. What is this bond so strongly entrenched?
What made this man so powerful? It's really very simple. His pursuit of truth. His relentless pursuit of truth. What made his productions so powerful? His pursuit of the truth. Was he honest with himself? I cannot honestly tell you. But he demanded it of us. And in doing so created a bond that lives as strongly in us today as it did in the year it was created. A bond as strong as he forced us to be honest. Under his guidance we exposed feelings, revealed personal truths, dug deep inside through the debris and uncovered our personal gold. We learned who we were and what we were capable of. Sometimes it was an utter joy, sometimes it was the most painful experience imaginable. But as we played the cords of who we were we soared and we were free. The gruff and tough guy held us in loving hands in our metamorphosis. He was trustworthy in this pursuit; betrayal was never an issue. We were able to fly time and again in his care, grow strong and mature and whatever we later went on to do, we were better able to do because of our time with him.
Twenty-four years ago I went out into the world and left Buckets in Miami. Only he knew what had changed inside me. Over the years on occasion I spoke to him and the 18-year old girl I had placed in the palm of his hands was someone I heard reflected in our conversation. Today I cried knowing she is gone with him but as I learned from the lights of the phone lines as they connected - he lives permanently in the souls of the lives that he touched.
Cheri Maugans (75-78)
knew the first day I met Buckets that he was a very, very special person;
one not merely to be listened to, but to be learned from. I had the privilege
of seeing him perform in THE SIGNALMAN'S APPRENTICE. He was as fine an
actor as he was an inspiring teacher and director. The lessons I learned
from Buckets have carried me not only through performances, but through
life. God bless him and all of us for having known him.
Ray Faiola CBS / NYC
Oh, dear Buckets!
I hold many memories of you close to my heart. You scared me and dared me to be better than I was. You tore down our safe havens to build beautiful structures that, at first, only you had the vision to see. Then, suddenly, everything would fall into place, like those Magic Eye prints, in which a series of individual dots and lines and colors merge into a dimensional image of something cohesive and deeply familiar. You taught us to ride the wave of an audience's laughter. In your best Irish brogue I can still hear your booming direction to "wait 'far' it, wait 'far' it!" There was no greater joy than to hear your laughter from the back of a darkened audience for a line you had heard a thousand times, and no greater honor than to see a tear freely roll down your cheek when your heart had been touched. I am so moved to be among those who have known you and loved you. How powerful love is that it reunites all of us to reconnect with one another, because of you. How special it is to know that you are still directing us, just on the other side of the curtain.
With love and gratitude,
Dr. Terry (Margoluis) Segal
Beginnings of a Playwright
My best and truest
memory of Buckets is during "Greasepaint." All these lifetimes
later, and I can still see and hear him acting and singing his role
of Cocky...I was one of the Urchins, and night after night, when he
performed "My First Love Song" with either Gail Edwards or
Marcia Sayet or his solo "Who Can I Turn To" my eyes filled
with tears...so moving was his performance. (Unfortunately, the only
pictures I have of that show are in my mind!)
I first came to U of M I was a very young, very scared little girl from
L.I. Where I got the nerve to audition for "CARNIVAL" I will
never know (what was I thinking?) - but I just had to have that part.
When Buckets cast me as LILY (what was HE thinking?) my "love affair" began - I have loved Bob Lowery ever since.
Besides technique, craft and experience, Buckets gave me permission to be "bigger" than I thought I could be. Several years later it was an honor and a delight to sing the duet "Never Too Late To Fall In Love" with Buckets in "THE BOYFRIEND". Funny, the 2 biggest highlights of my college career were both with Buckets.
Buckets my love, you are and will always remain, one of the brightest lights of my life. May God bless you, your family and the many lives you have touched.
my Darlin' Bob Lowery, my mentor, my teacher, my friend:
Many memories. Bob (not Buckets then) andI started at the U of M the same year 1963. His passion for acting and his way of teaching inspired me to work harder, to strive to do better and then the best that I could be. He set me on fire with Stanislavski, embedded in my heart respect for and the sacredness of the stage. He treated us all with patience, great humor and encouragement. Acting classes were beyond exciting and getting to act in one of his productions was a dream come true. I got lucky more than once.
During rehearsals for The Hostage, Bob held a contest for who could sing the entire lyrics for avery long Irish song. To this day I can sing all the lyrics and think of him.
After showing Bob a clay model for an idea I had, he said yes to me designing the set for Six Characters In Search of An Author. Double whammy -- he cast me in it, too. Part of Bob Lowery's expert coaching included circling the Ring, getting deeper and deeper into character, pretending and truly believing I was in the streets of Ireland before my entrances in Juno and the Paycock. The Drama Guild Award I received for that performance is dedicated to his honor. We celebrated big time at that party.
My other major was art and Bob collected some of my paintings. I'd drive to the Ring after classes and he'd grab some of my latest pieces right out of the trunk of my car. What a thrill! And I crocheted hats for his children. Hurray for four unforgettable years (1963 - 1967).
I finally got to see Bob act after moving back to FL from NYC. He wowed me in Sea Marks and Prelude to a Kiss. Oh, how I dreamed of sharing the stage with him. Told him so. I cherish the times I got to connect with him during his last years. Love you, Bob. Thanks for everything!!
Janece Martell Mamches
I first met Bob
when he joined the faculty at UM in 63 or 64, I think it was.
I attended my first acting class, I remember Buckets selecting me to perform
a skit. From that day on he supported, encouraged, and understood me as
a person and actress, I loved working with him because he really cared.
He also knew how to get the best performance out of me. It was magical,
the way Buckets worked, he just knew how to get me to feel my characters
I learned a great deal from Buckets, personally and professionally. There will always be a place in my heart for the kindness and warmth he gave to me. I feel blessed to have worked with him. He was truly a talented professor.
Pamela (Horbal) Meyers - Ring Theater 1976-1981 U.of M. B.F.A. Drama
I first became aware
of Bob's directing work when I was Drama Director at Miami Springs Senior
High in the mid-sixties; I believe I met him through the high school
drama festival that the Ring sponsored each year. I was a young, passionate
and idealistic teacher/director, so it made perfect sense for me to
become a Buckets fan; and, I'm three quarters Irish.
seemed timid, shy the first time I met him. With blue eyes that trembled
- seemingly ready to burst into tears if you looked at him the wrong way.
He said few words, those barely mumbled, as if speaking was an effort
for him. So, you had to listen carefully.
And his name - Buckets. He said it was because he was proficient in basketball in high school. But, after spending many hours drinking beer with him and the gang at Bill and Ted's, I had my own guess as to the origin of that name.
I met him in the summer of 1971, when I transferred from Tulane. I was transported to a different dimension during the daily two-hour acting class I took from him. He taught us acting games that nurtured and awakened my love of theater. But, it was also where I discovered the magnificent soul
of Robert Lowery. Most of the time, he sat in the audience as we grappled on stage to release our tightly held emotions. He would mumble some words of guidance and, if we didn't get it, he would mumble louder.
One day, we struggled mightily with an exercise called Private Moments, in which we were supposed to illustrate something we did that no one ever saw. Two or three students got up and did nothing, standing lifelessly on the stage, "acting", flatly going through the motions. Buckets kept saying they needed to "come from the jewels", but nobody knew what that meant.
We asked him to show us. He walked onto the stage and stood there softly for a moment. Gathering in. He started low - at first you could barely hear him:
His body was filled with energy as he reached the crescendo, and then, his emotions spent, he lowered his head and stood there.
THAT was the moment the spark was lit. And it has never gone out since then.
I saw that spark again when Buckets performed in Jacques Brel the following summer. I played the flute in the combo and, for six glorious weeks, I absorbed that show. Buckets sang Jackie and Amsterdam and Funeral Tango. [I perversely thought we should have sung that en masse at his tribute last week]. The fire in his belly came through those eyes - but this time, they trembled with rage and joy and sarcasm and love.
I knew then that the name "Buckets" was for the buckets of emotion that lay inside that fragile man.
Thank you, my friend, for all you have given me. And, thank you for bringing us all back together in that outrageous evening at the Ring Theater last weekend. The outpouring of love and talent and enthusiasm was electric. We shall do it again, but we won't wait thirty years.
Janet Seitlin, (1971-72)
|BOB BUCKETS LOWERY
I met Bob Lowery in 1964 when I got a part in what I now realize was his first production at the ring - THE HOSTAGE. In those days he had a crewcut, chewed a lot of gum and gave off a kind of humorous macho tinged with a slight air of menace. Not that he was menacing, just that you sensed something volcanic going on under the surface. This was a great quality in his acting. I played Edgar to his Gloucester, in KING LEAR, and at one point - after Gloucester's eyes had been put out - Bob let out a scream that shook the roof of the theatre and made the audience sit up straight. It was a scream that seemed to come out of his bowels to explode out of his head. There was more anguish and heartbreak in that scream than in the entire performance of the poor actor playing Lear; it was the most memorable and authentic moment in the production. After HOSTAGE, I was lucky enough to be cast as Tom in Bob's second production - THE GLASS MENAGERIE. I had a drunk scene which I was playing in a contrived, forced way. Bob pulled me aside. 'Listen, Al' (he was the only one in those days who ever called me 'Al') - 'Listen, Al ... just imagine there's a little gnome in your pants who's tickling your ass' ... Okay, Bob, I'll try it. We go back to the top of the scene, I start imagining this little gnome tickling my ass as I come on stage, and suddenly I start laughing. And kept laughing. Got giddy with laughter until I finally flopped down on the stairs and began the scene with Laura. And even during the scene, that gnome kept popping into my head and somehow the whole scene came alive that night. It was never that good again. Shortly after that, Bob got sick and had to have a colostemy bag (sorry about the spelling). I tentatively asked him how he was feeling and he answered in typical Lowery fashion: "Fine, I never liked taking a shit, anyway." He certainly didn't waste any time feeling sorry for himself. Bob also encouraged me as a writer, even staging one of my early plays - a dismal exercise in sex and angst which elicited 'boos' from the crowd. Bob must have known how bad that play was, but he felt that a playwright has to see his work performed in order to learn and grow. I've thought of Bob Lowery many many times over the past 35 years. He was my favorite acting teacher, the one I most wanted to impress, the one whose approval I was most eager to have. He was a mysterious character to me in many ways ... a very gifted actor, teacher, human being, beloved of many people. But when I think of him now, I think of that impish gnome tickling my butt ... he always has the face of Bob Lowery.
I was shocked to
find out that Mr. Lowery was gone. I was still a student when I moved
away, so he will always be Mr. Lowery to me.
a teacher, Bob Lowery's greatest gift was to awaken our senses and arouse
our passions; the primal ones. He made it safe for us to risk everything,
and insisted we try. He got us out of our brains and into our bowels.
And lower. We all have our stories, and these tales have become our mythology.
Somehow, Bob Lowery is inextricably intertwined in them all. He accepted
nothing less than our best, and to this day, I can feel his artist's imperative
nipping at my soul like a vigilant sheep dog. He holds the fold together.
His passion is with us still. As Hamlet says of his father
was a man. Take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again."
I have read over
the many "memories" posted. What a wonderful tribute. I was
a student from 1974 to 78 and have been out of the theater for many
years. Like so many, I decided to "pursue other interests,"
but will always remember my time at the Ring. Even though my life has
changed and taken me to many places and careers, Buckets will always
be an important influence. It is amazing how much there is to remember
from a relatively brief period of time. My most vivid memory is singing
"Cockles and Mussels, Alive A-Live-0h" in the wee small hours,
in the Ring courtyard, with Buckets and Barbara. I sang four kids to
sleep with that song for many, many years. I didn't even know how much
I missed him until I received the Memorial letter. I just assumed he
would live forever. In a way, he will.
first met Bob when, having decided not to go to law school and feeling
somewhat adrift, I audited one of his acting classes. I loved the class
and loved him. He suggested I get into the Graduate program, so I did,
and got my MA in 1968. During my second year, Bob had the surgery that
kept him out for a semester and asked me to take over one of his acting
classes. I loved teaching his class and it was the impetus for my teaching
in the Drama Department at UM for ten very enjoyable years.
A Gracious Man:
Wow. I stumbled on this page by accident and am flooded with wonderful memories. The season Buckets played Cocky, I was a desperately lonely and confused teenager, a high school drop out, who had volunteered at the Ring to help with the lighting crew. Buckets' performance was the emotional heart of my 15th year. I was thrilled night after night and have never forgotten his renditions of those songs. They have stayed with me as has Buckets' overall kindness and large personality. That summer is one of the happiest memories in my 30+ years of theater since then. God bless you, Buckets!
I was not part of the theatre department, but had the opportunity to be cast and directed by “Buckets” in Ondine, I loved him, as I am sure everyone whose lives he touched did as well. “Buckets” started me seriously thinking about a career in theatre or film.
tion for Buckets and all of you,
I have enjoyed the pages of Buckets' Memorial Celebration so much. I didn't even realize we'd lost him... I happened upon these pages quite by accident. I have relived so many wonderful memories of my acting classes with Buckets, shows in Miami, Fox's, and so many other special events and people from my years at the Ring in the mid-70's. Thank you!
I had heard of Robert Lowery for many years before I had the chance to work with him. I cast him in the play Sea Marks, and working with him was to say the least, challenging. Not only was I a lot younger, but I was from Ecuador. Robert disagreed with every choice I made.
By the end of a troublesome second week of rehearsal, he came into the theater my husband and I owned on Lincoln Rd., the Area Stage Company, grabbed my hand and said: "I get it. I get what you want."
Gaining his respect was a gift to me. He started calling me "My Director". He began creating one of the most memorable characters I had ever seen on stage, despite the fact that he was going through dialysis, three times a week. I can only imagine how painful it was. But he loved acting!
Opening Night was made of the stuff great movies are made out of. There was not a dry eye in the audience. Robert and Lisa Morgan gave us an experience that was touching, tender, funny, unpredictable, and reached deep into the soul.
Robert won the Carbonell for Best Actor. On the phone we had the happy chatter of two people basking on their accomplishments, I had also won a Carbonell for Best Director. We were discussing our new project, The Homecoming.
Robert was too sick to withstand rehearsals, Andrew Noble took his place. When he came to see the show, he said that it was too bad his body gave up on him. He came too late into my life I said; he said it was just the right time, I wouldn't have liked him if I knew him earlier. It doesn't mater, I will always be your director, Robert.
I came to UM after 3 years at another school, which so demoralized me, I felt I had little to offer. At my first audition in front of Buckets, he said, “My God, where did you get your training? You’re wonderful.” I mentioned the name of the school, but it was really reading “Respect for Acting” by Uta Hagen. Buckets cast me in The Time of Your Life in 1981. He also recommended me to Ken Kurtz for Maggie Cutler in The Man Who Came to Dinner. He instilled such confidence in me. He made me feel safe in acting class. It wasn’t a test. I never felt judged. It was a place to work. It was a place to worship talent and creation. His encouragement set me on a course that would fill my life with performance opportunities and theatrical experiences that have at times even been lucrative. I will always be grateful, and remember fondly the man and teacher that helped me satisfy my life’s theatre addiction. Thank you Buckets.