ARTicles vol. 5 i.4b: Introducing Mike Daisey

“I’m sorry if I’m going on and on,” Mike Daisey says brightly. “But that happens when you talk to a monologuist.”

A monologuist is a person who delivers monologues; in Daisey’s case a single monologue comprises an entire evening’s entertainment. Daisey “goes on and on” with such panache that his one-man shows are a hit from coast to coast. Unlike many solo performers, Daisey does not portray characters; instead, he goes onstage as himself. “I’m not an actor,” he says. “I’m a storyteller.” Seated behind a table with a glass of water in easy reach, Daisey weaves a narrative web, braiding together story lines and blending in metaphors. He juxtaposes autobiographical events with global events, compelling the audience to see each through the lens of the other.

For the past twenty-five years, monologuists like Daisey have played a major role in American theatre. In 1979 Spalding Gray debuted his monologue Sex and Death to the Age 14 at the Performing Garage in New York. The piece examined Gray’s childhood in Barrington, Rhode Island, and he followed it with other autobiographical pieces, including Swimming to Cambodia, A Personal History of the American Theatre, and 47 Beds. Critic Theodore Shank declared Spalding’s monologues the “most literally autobiographical work that has been presented in the theatre.” While autobiographical material has always provided fodder for stand-up comedians, satirists, and writers of all kinds, it remains rare in the theatre for a performer to use himself as his text.

Enter Mike Daisey.

Daisey’s rapid rise began after he quit his job at Amazon.com, where he had worked for two years. Starting out as a menial temp, he edged his way up the first few rungs of the corporate ladder before resigning. Daisey then developed a monologue about his experience at the company, describing the caffeine-fueled frenzy of corporate America and the surreal monotony of working in a cubicle. 21 Dog Years: Doing Time @ Amazon.com succeeded on the West Coast before enjoying a triumphant off-Broadway run. Since then, Daisey has developed and performed eight other monologues, including Invincible Summer and Monopoly!.

Though these monologues share a kinship with Spalding Gray’s, key differences exist. First, Daisey’s pieces involve non-autobiographical content as well as intimate personal detail. Second, Daisey does not use a script, onstage or off. His process begins when, sitting and “doing what looks like nothing,” Daisey thinks of an interesting juxtaposition of two ideas. As his ideas expand, Daisey discusses them with his wife and collaborator, Jean-Michele Gregory. Twenty-four hours before the first performance of a piece, Daisey writes a rough outline, using a separate piece of paper for each new idea.

This unusual process is his own invention. “I’m self-taught,” he explains, but he eagerly lists those who have influenced him. Stand-up comedians like Bill Cosby and Lewis Black top the list; Daisey admires Cosby’s dexterity with complex narratives and emphasizes that seeing him perform live – watching him command an audience’s attention – differs significantly from seeing him on television. Daisey also admires Bertolt Brecht. “Brecht violently dissolves boundaries between actor and audience. Those ideas inform my work.”

In addition, Daisey looks to people outside the entertainment world. The oratorical style of black preachers and radical black politicians fascinates him. “They’re working from loose notes or no notes,” he marvels, “and they speak with this fabulous narrative construction.” Daisey carefully studies the speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr., admiring the leader’s ability to captivate and persuade an audience.

Though Daisey’s work is less politically driven than King’s, he too has a mission: he believes that it’s an artist’s job to “talk about things people don’t want to talk about.” Topics in his monologues have included Daisey’s decision to abandon his pregnant girlfriend; his confusion and grief when his parents’ long marriage ended; and his surprise when, studying abroad in London, he found himself dating a prostitute.

If Daisey’s subject matter intrigues, his performance enthralls. Though he spends the show sitting behind a table, his delivery remains active. As A.R.T. interim artistic director Gideon Lester explains, “his voice is the voice of a shaman. He uses his voice musically to lead you on a sensual journey. So it’s not just about narrative.” Daisey uses facial expressions, too, to great effect. “His face is like a rubber mask,” Lester muses. “It’s incredibly expressive. He contorts it in a way that can be very funny. And it can also be scary.”  Lester also emphasizes Daisey’s ability to touch the audience.  “You really feel that he’s talking to you. It doesn’t feel artificial or distanced.”

Lester’s enthusiasm for Daisey’s work rivals that of critics across the country. They have compared Daisey to a motley mix of performers and thinkers: Robin Williams, Noam Chomsky, Jack Black, Jackie Gleason, Michael Moore, and Franz Kafka.  They’ve praised his comic timing, tragic intensity, and ability to leap deftly between the two. They’ve declared him one of the finest solo performers of his generation.  But Daisey himself, the object of such lavish, takes it in stride and focuses on the task at hand: “The whole reason to do it is to have a communion with the audience.”

Neena Arndt is a second-year dramaturgy student at the A.R.T./MXAT Institute for Advanced Theatre Training.

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