Matt Jackson Remembered

It was 2007 and I was set to direct TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE at The Blue Rose Theater.  The call for two male actors went out here in Prescott.  Three men showed up for auditions.  ‘Morrie’ himself walked in off the street in the form of Ernest Giglio, a New Englander who had just moved to Prescott with his wife Karin.

Meanwhile I was without a Mitch Albom.  I called a few friends asking if they knew of an actor/jazz pianist.  If I couldn’t get both in the same person I’d settle for the jazz pianist.  The name Matt Jackson came up and I contacted him asking, hmmm begging, that he read for a role that would require him to act, play piano and could even make use of his improvisation/composition skills.  I knew in seconds that he was perfect even though he had never been on stage --as an actor.

That night marked the beginning of a friendship built around music and storytelling.  Directing this show was in many ways remarkably easy.  The Mitch/Morrie relationship was translated with consummate ease by Matt and Ernest.  Matt’s acting debut was a great success.

 Matt Jackson and Ernest Giglio in TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE

At some point Matt’s interest in storytelling led him to study film making.  I had the great good fortune to be cast in his debut film.  Our roles were in some ways reversed.  I had practically no experience in film acting.  But Matt made me feel comfortable and the experience was both fun and enlightening.

Somewhere during this period Matt asked if he could study acting with me.  I believe his main interest was in understanding how actors work.  And now began the third stage of our friendship and the one most gratifying.  Matt would come to my home laden with notes, props, scripts, water bottle.  My living room has two couches.  We would each take our own couch and begin the session with what had been happening in our lives.  Slowly I would move us into the lesson.  Because I knew he was interested in acting from a director’s viewpoint, exercises often ran on two tracks.  First I would treat him as an acting student, letting him arrive at conclusions from the experience of the exercise.  Then often we would talk about the purpose of the exercise, how a director might use it with a novice actor.  Sometimes I would play opposite him in an assigned scene using our living room and kitchen as the set.  Rather often we laughed ourselves silly.

Matt was an outstanding ‘student’.  Always prepared, but what I cherished most was his layered and nuanced analysis/understanding of a scene.  Of course this should not be surprising in a mature man who had an extraordinary, intimate and working acquaintance, if you will, with both sides of his brain.  Artist and technician, observer and participant, reader and writer, composer and player, he walked these parallel tracks with grace and confidence until they joined in a seamless, single path.

Our last class was this past summer.  He was going off to France and would call me on his return.  But as he described it himself, outrageous fortune inserted itself in the form of cancer.  During his illness he shared his journey with us in a remarkable blog that begins with these words: 

  Outrageous Fortune.  Sometimes good, sometimes bad. 

Often outrageously so. 

In the end, telling the difference is beyond most of us mortals.

 But we’re human, so we must try.

Matt passed away Sunday evening March 27, a few days before his 58th birthday on the 31st.  Now we must learn to live our lives without him.  Rest in peace my dear friend…