#washington park zoo

[uwmspeccoll]

Milwaukee Handicraft Monday

The Milwaukee Handicraft Project (MHP) of the Wisconsin WPA produced several block-printed and handbound books for children in the late 1930s. Among them was this title, At the Zoo, A Book of Block-Prints, with blocks cut by Milwaukee-area artist Kendrick Bell (1913-2004) and the book printed and bound by specially-trained, but formerly unemployed and unskilled Milwaukee-area women laborers. The MHP was highly successful at hiring and training around 5,000 people in total throughout its seven year existence during the Great Depression.  

At the Zoo is about animals at the Washington Park Zoo, situated on land designed by famed American landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted. The zoo opened in 1892, but by the time this book was produced, the park had become a little worse for wear. Planning for a newly-designed zoo began in 1942, and fundraising began in earnest in 1956. The new zoo opened in 1958 as the Milwaukee County Zoo, which is still in operation today. Perhaps its most famous resident was Samson (1949–1981), a male silverback western lowland gorilla. Today the zoo is known for several exhibits, but it is perhaps most well-known for the visitor-favorite Humboldt Penguin Pool at the zoo’s main entrance, and for its population of bonobos, the largest outside their native home in the Congo.

Shown here are a few of the animals Kendrick Bell would have encountered at the zoo in the late 1930s, although we think Old Mr. Leopard gets a bad rap!

View more posts about MHP and the Wisconsin Arts Projects of the WPA.

[petsincollections]

Washington Park Zoo - Bears Fed Daily Sign

Polar bears in the old cages at the Washington Park Zoo. A sign indicates that they are fed daily at 2:30. In 1919, the zoo was home to the first polar bear born in captivity in North America.

Milwaukee Historic Photo

[christmaslightssalesman]

Who does your eyeliner?

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Art Institute Lion visits other Chicago landmarks

[rabbitcruiser]

American Zoo Day

Philadelphia has always been an important city in America. It is one of the top ten biggest cities in the country, and once was the second biggest. It is also home to important historical artifacts and buildings such as the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, as well as the nation's first zoo, the Philadelphia Zoo, which opened on July 1, 1874. Today we celebrate this zoo, along with other American zoos!

A Zoo—short for a zoological park—is a place that contains animals and exists to entertain, educate, engage in scientific research, and focus on conservation. Early zoos, known as menageries, were private collections of animals held by the wealthy. They existed as early as 2,500 BCE, being found in Egypt and Mesopotamia. They were found soon afterward in ancient China, Greece, and Rome. Aztec Emperor Montezuma II had one of the first collections of animals in the Western Hemisphere.

Modern zoos came about during the age of Enlightenment. One of the focuses of the era was on science, and this extended to zoology. There was an increased interest to study animals, with the goal of better understanding their behavior and anatomy. In order to do this more accurately, animals needed to be observed in more natural habitats. This was a driving force behind the establishment of modern zoos.

One of the first modern zoos, Menagerie du Jardin des Plantes, opened in Paris, France, in 1793. This followed the French Revolution; the menageries of the aristocrats, including those of the king and queen, were used to start the zoo. This early zoo did not have much for natural habitat, though, and was set up more like a museum, having small display areas.

Shortly thereafter in America, in 1804, Thomas Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark on an expedition out West to find and document the animals living there. This demonstrated the new country's interest in animals, but the country was not quite ready for a zoo. When the London Zoo opened to the public in 1847, it influenced some in the United States to start thinking that it was time to open their own zoo.

A physician named William Camac spearheaded the cause for a zoo in Philadelphia. On March 21, 1859, the Pennsylvania State Legislature voted to establish the Philadelphia Zoological Society, and Camac became its president. The Society—the first of its kind in the United States—worked to raise public and private funds to build the zoo. With the start of the Civil War in 1861, the plans were put on hold, as money was not available to devote to the zoo until after the war.

Eventually, the Zoological Society was given 30 acres of land in Fairmount Park on the banks of the Schuylkill River. "The Solitude," a house built by John Penn, the grandson of William Penn—the founder of the province of Pennsylvania—was included on the land. The size of the zoo was later extended to 42 acres. The entryway included a wrought-iron gateway and gatehouses designed by Frank Furness, which are still in use today.

On opening day, 3,000 people visited the zoo and were welcomed by a brass band and flags. Adults were charged 25 cents for admission, while children were charged 10 cents—this was the cost of admission for the next half-century. Yearly memberships were available for 10 dollars, with lifetime memberships being 50 dollars. During its first year of operation, 228,000 people visited the zoo. Today it has 1.2 million visitors each year.

There originally were 616 animals (another account says 813) at the zoo, some of which were on loan from the Smithsonian Institution. The Smithsonian had collected them from Africa and Asia but did not yet have their own zoo in Washington D.C. to house them at. The zoo had 3,000 animals by 1976 but then began downsizing to the 1,300 it now has. Today we celebrate the animals at this zoo, the zoo itself, and those all across America.

How to Observe American Zoo Day

The best way to celebrate the day is to take a trip to the Philadelphia Zoo. If you can't make it to Philadelphia, perhaps you are nearby one of the best zoos in the country. Otherwise, find another nearby zoo to visit!

Source

[artofmemories]

the only animals we saw at the zoo that day

[wellspokenrambler]

@scull-not-skull

Bitey-face is a dog game you’ve probably seen and may love: lots of loud open-mouthed posturing and maybe some wrassling. I now invite you join me in experiencing bitey-face a la sloth bears. I grabbed these photos yesterday at the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle and lost my shit laughing when I saw how they’d turned out. (Open them fullscreen and zoom in on their facial expressions, it’s so worth it.)

I just cannot get over the excessively extra lips.

The fun thing about watching these two play was the clear use of the log to diffuse tension / reduce physical contact. They purposefully set up on either side of it to posture at each other, and then would circle around and wrestle for a bit, before going right back to their original spots.

Shameless plug, I’ll be posting these and a bunch more on my insta.

[bevanne46]

ILLUMINATE YOUR HOLIDAYS with WILDLANTERNS at Woodland Park & Zoo in Seattle, WA

November 10, 2023 – January 14, 2024 4:00 - 9:00 p.m. (Last ticket is sold at 7:00 p.m.)

An immersive, interactive, larger-than-life experience unlike any in the Northwest! WildLanterns presented by BECU returns this winter with brand-new lanterns and themed zones, along with some returning fan favorites, that will “wow” anyone, no matter their age!

[awesomefringey]

Hi Sabine if you could please spread this, this account lists all the memorials planned for Liam across the world and regularly updates them, for those who wish and are able to attend https://x.com/HS_News_/status/1847077799942934740

Sending lots of love ❤️❤️❤️

LIAM PAYNE MEMORIAL

Europe:

🇬🇧 London | October 20 - 2pm | Hyde Park

🇬🇧Liverpool | October 19 - 2pm | Docks on keel wharf bridge

🇬🇧 Glasgow | October 20 - 2pm | Sir Walter Scott Statue in George Square

🇬🇧 Manchester | October 20 - 6pm | Cathedral Gardens

🇬🇧 Birmingham | October 20 - 4pm | Chamberlain Square

🇧🇪 Brussels | October 19/20 - 2pm | Parc de Bruxelles

🇫🇷 Paris | October 20 - 2pm | Jardins des Tuileries

🇩🇪 Munich | October 20 - 3pm | Olympiahalle

🇪🇸 Madrid | October 20 - 3pm | Plaza de Santa Ana

🇸🇪 Stockholm | October 19 - 6pm | Svartensgatan 8

🇵🇹 Lisbon | October 27 - 6pm | Meo Arena, Oriente

🇮🇹 Milan | October 20 - 3pm | Piazza Duomo

🇺🇸 US:

Newark - Delaware | October 19 - 4pm | Glasgow Park

NYC | October 19 - picnic* at 11am and another event at 6pm | Washington Square Park

*Picnic RSVP : https://partiful.com/e/2WoJi0Onf8jWijlyFU8E

Boston | October 19 - 2pm | Boston Common

Chicago | October 19 - 2pm | Gather at Grandmother’s Garden outside of Lincoln Park Zoo

Los Angeles | October 19 - 4:30pm | La Cienaga** Park in Beverly Hills

**RSVP : https://partiful.com/e/P5qPcaZkgLizNYhzP0mm

South-America:

🇧🇷 São Paulo | October 27 - 2pm | Parque Ibirapuera

Oceania:

🇳🇿 Auckland | October 20 - 2pm | Freyberg Square

🇦🇺 Sydney | October 20 - 11am | Hyde Park (Memorial fountain)

Asia:

🇮🇳 Mumbai | October 20 - 5pm | Marine Lines, Opposite Pizza by the Bay

———————

EDIT: added Boston

[petsincollections]

Washington Park Zoo Boy

A boy looks at polar bears inside the bear exhibit at the Washington Park Zoo. In the 1930's, the zoo had the largest bear collection in the world with 37 bears of various species.

Milwaukee Public Library Historic Photo

Milwaukee Historic Photos

[violetsandshrikes]

Woodland Park Zoo + Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife release 20 captive raised Western Pond Turtles back into protected habitat 🥺

[christmaslightssalesman]

Get spooky!

[creaturefeaster]

You went on a road trip??! Where'd you go? Was it AWEOSME?!?!?

I went from the west coast of Washington over to eastern Washington and Idaho. Through mountains and into the desert of Washington, always my favorite!

Went to Silverwood in Idaho, the theme park. They are doing haunted houses at night for Halloween this month, so we went into all the haunts there, very fun. There was also an aurora event while we were out. The aurora events earlier this year I missed because I was out of town, so that was the first time I've ever seen them-- and by complete chance! Had no idea that was going to happen.

I also got to go to a petting zoo. Despite seeing many farm animals in my day to day life there's something very fun and cozy about going to a petting zoo where they actually want to be pet by random strangers lol.

A couple pics of me from the trip ^

It was a nice trip :3 I like to go out to Spokane a lot, so this isn't the first time I've been in the area, but I got to do a lot of new stuff.

[rabbitcruiser]

American Zoo Day

Philadelphia has always been an important city in America. It is one of the top ten biggest cities in the country, and once was the second biggest. It is also home to important historical artifacts and buildings such as the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, as well as the nation's first zoo, the Philadelphia Zoo, which opened on July 1, 1874. Today we celebrate this zoo, along with other American zoos!

A Zoo—short for a zoological park—is a place that contains animals and exists to entertain, educate, engage in scientific research, and focus on conservation. Early zoos, known as menageries, were private collections of animals held by the wealthy. They existed as early as 2,500 BCE, being found in Egypt and Mesopotamia. They were found soon afterward in ancient China, Greece, and Rome. Aztec Emperor Montezuma II had one of the first collections of animals in the Western Hemisphere.

Modern zoos came about during the age of Enlightenment. One of the focuses of the era was on science, and this extended to zoology. There was an increased interest to study animals, with the goal of better understanding their behavior and anatomy. In order to do this more accurately, animals needed to be observed in more natural habitats. This was a driving force behind the establishment of modern zoos.

One of the first modern zoos, Menagerie du Jardin des Plantes, opened in Paris, France, in 1793. This followed the French Revolution; the menageries of the aristocrats, including those of the king and queen, were used to start the zoo. This early zoo did not have much for natural habitat, though, and was set up more like a museum, having small display areas.

Shortly thereafter in America, in 1804, Thomas Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark on an expedition out West to find and document the animals living there. This demonstrated the new country's interest in animals, but the country was not quite ready for a zoo. When the London Zoo opened to the public in 1847, it influenced some in the United States to start thinking that it was time to open their own zoo.

A physician named William Camac spearheaded the cause for a zoo in Philadelphia. On March 21, 1859, the Pennsylvania State Legislature voted to establish the Philadelphia Zoological Society, and Camac became its president. The Society—the first of its kind in the United States—worked to raise public and private funds to build the zoo. With the start of the Civil War in 1861, the plans were put on hold, as money was not available to devote to the zoo until after the war.

Eventually, the Zoological Society was given 30 acres of land in Fairmount Park on the banks of the Schuylkill River. "The Solitude," a house built by John Penn, the grandson of William Penn—the founder of the province of Pennsylvania—was included on the land. The size of the zoo was later extended to 42 acres. The entryway included a wrought-iron gateway and gatehouses designed by Frank Furness, which are still in use today.

On opening day, 3,000 people visited the zoo and were welcomed by a brass band and flags. Adults were charged 25 cents for admission, while children were charged 10 cents—this was the cost of admission for the next half-century. Yearly memberships were available for 10 dollars, with lifetime memberships being 50 dollars. During its first year of operation, 228,000 people visited the zoo. Today it has 1.2 million visitors each year.

There originally were 616 animals (another account says 813) at the zoo, some of which were on loan from the Smithsonian Institution. The Smithsonian had collected them from Africa and Asia but did not yet have their own zoo in Washington D.C. to house them at. The zoo had 3,000 animals by 1976 but then began downsizing to the 1,300 it now has. Today we celebrate the animals at this zoo, the zoo itself, and those all across America.

How to Observe American Zoo Day

The best way to celebrate the day is to take a trip to the Philadelphia Zoo. If you can't make it to Philadelphia, perhaps you are nearby one of the best zoos in the country. Otherwise, find another nearby zoo to visit!

Source

[jgroffdaily]

The New Yorker Interview

Jonathan Groff Rolls Merrily Back

The actor reflects on his journey in reverse: from his latest Tony nomination to his arrival in New York, waiting tables and dreaming of Broadway.

By Michael Schulman, Photograph by Thea Traff

June 2, 2024

Excerpts:

One of the problems with “Merrily” is its protagonist, Franklin Shepard, whom we first meet as a slick, philandering forty-year-old Hollywood producer. It takes two acts to arrive at the charismatic musician he once was, with a lot of mistakes in between. Putting effect before cause gives each scene a painful irony—but how do you get an audience to care about a guy who’s off-putting for so long? “Merrily” is back on Broadway, in a production directed by Maria Friedman, and it’s finally a hit. One big reason is its Frank, played by Jonathan Groff, whose natural warmth shines through even in the character’s older, sleazier incarnation. When this revival opened Off Broadway, in 2022, The New Yorker’s Helen Shaw wrote, “Groff’s silky tenor and angelic face elevate a part that can sometimes be contemptible—for the first time, I could see Frank as both the dreamer who believes in greatness and the glib charmer who believes every lie he tells.”

Groff, thirty-nine, is now nominated for a Tony Award, alongside Friedman and his co-stars Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendez. He was previously nominated in 2016, for “Hamilton,” in the scene-stealing part of King George III, and in 2007, for the indie-rock musical “Spring Awakening,” as the rebellious schoolboy Melchior Gabor—his breakout role, opposite Lea Michele. Groff had come to New York three years earlier, as a stagestruck, closeted nineteen-year-old from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where he grew up among Mennonites and was obsessed with the original cast recording of “Annie Get Your Gun.” “Merrily,” with its themes of aging, idealism, and the vicissitudes of show business, has had Groff thinking about his own path toward stardom. “Doing this show on Broadway at this time, moving to New York twenty years ago, I’ve now lived the time frame of the show,” he told me recently.

We were talking at a bakery north of Washington Square Park. Groff had glided in on a bicycle. As we spoke, he frequently welled up with tears—he’s a crier—but regained his composure by focussing on a pair of googly eyes affixed to the wall behind me. For our conversation, which has been edited and condensed, I had an experiment in mind.

Let’s start with the extremely recent past. Three days ago, you went to the Met Gala. How was your night?

The big headline for me was Lea Michele was pregnant, and I sat next to her at the table, holding her giant train thing while she peed. She took it off, and I was holding that and her purse. I saw Zac Posen, who was at our table, help Kim Kardashian up the little tiny stairs, and I said to him, “Wow, that was such a sweet moment of the gay helping the diva.” I was relating to him, like with me and Lea. It’s a zoo of famous people. I was going to go to the after-parties, but my body was just, like, “No.” I hit a wall from the shows and the epicness of the week, with the Tony nominations. So I was home by eleven-forty-five, and in bed by midnight.

The Broadway production of “Merrily” opened last fall. You told Jimmy Fallon that Meryl Streep came to your dressing room, where you have a bar named BARbra, and she took a video of you and sent it to Barbra Streisand. Who else has been there?

The first thing that comes to me is sitting in BARbra in October or November, drinking whiskey with Sutton Foster. I came to New York as a teen-ager and saw her six times in “Thoroughly Modern Millie”—now she’s in BARbra, dropping in for, like, an hour and a half after the show, and it’s so full circle. Who else? Patti LuPone was there—another big one for me. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Martin McDonagh. Glenn Close sent back a bottle of champagne to be chilled in BARbra, which we drank together.

This show, like every Sondheim show, is very dense. Over the course of three hundred-plus performances, are there certain moments that have suddenly hit you a different way, or that you realize have a double meaning?

Double, triple, quadruple, infinity. I’m still having revelations, which really makes me believe that it’s a true work of art. Maria [Friedman] talks about how, with Sondheim’s writing, he “leaves space,” which is why it’s always new. He always needed to work with a collaborator, and she talked about the actor being an essential collaborator. She said the lyric he wrote in “Sunday in the Park with George”—“Anything you do, / let it come from you, / then it will be new”—is Sondheim’s directive to the actor.

The Tuesday after the Tony nominations, I got to the theatre, screamed with Lindsay [Mendez], screamed with Dan [Radcliffe]. [He chokes up.] Then I was singing “Growing Up”—“So old friends, don’t you see we can have it all?”—which has meant so many different things to me in the run of the show. At yesterday’s matinée, Dan and I were sitting on the roof singing “Our Time”: “Up to us, pal, to show ’em.” We’ve done it a million times. We look at each other, and Dan just fucking loses it crying. He had to look away from me. We talked about it afterward, like, “What the fuck was that?” I don’t know. Something just happened.

When you started the show, in 2022, at New York Theatre Workshop, were there kinks in your performance that you’ve since figured out?

I remember feeling shocked at being disliked for so long in the first half of the first act. It was very clear from the energy of the audience that they loved Mary in the opening scene—immediately, they’re on her side. I’m out here as a gay guy, playing this straight, two-timing Hollywood producer who’s cheating on his wife. I’m already having to feel confident in a way that I don’t in my everyday life, this sort of swagger. And the audience hates me. I remember feeling scared and self-conscious. Maria, in that preview process, really helped with that, because she talked about the value of when it’s real, and you’re not playing ugly just to be ugly. The one line that I really struggled with was “I’m just acting like it all matters so people can’t see how much I hate my life and how much I wish the whole goddam thing was over.” That is a really confronting thing to say.

People might say that this is one of the fundamental flaws of “Merrily We Roll Along”—that you’re confronted with this cynical, smarmy Frank in the first act, and you don’t really understand him until the show’s over. I can imagine going into this not knowing if that’s a solvable problem, because it hadn’t been for decades.

Well, Maria wanted us to find the truth. She really believed that these characters weren’t archetypes, that there’s humanity in the writing from beginning to end. I found it after that first week or two of previews, not being so afraid. The line that made me want to do the show was “I’ve made only one mistake in my life, but I’ve made it over and over and over. That was saying yes when I meant no.” I’ve done that a lot in my life, and there was something that felt like the closeted version of myself. George Furth and Stephen Sondheim—I can only imagine being gay at the time that they were gay. Even though Frank is straight, there’s so much repression that feels very familiar to me.

Except that you felt it at the beginning of your life and not the middle, as Frank does.

Yes and no. I still feel it. I’m still trying every day not to go back. I’m obviously out of the closet, so that’s a huge relief, but I’m always going to be reckoning with the Republican upbringing that I had. I’m always negotiating whatever homophobia I’ve got. It’s all in there, still. What we see as ugliness in the top of the show, to stand and say, “I want to fucking kill myself, I hate my life,” and not overdramatize it but try to find it in the most pure, truthful place—it’s still, every night, a meditation to go there.

Let’s wind back. In 2021, you played Agent Smith in “The Matrix Resurrections.” Any good stories about Keanu Reeves?

Getting to play Agent Smith really unlocked rage inside of me that I didn’t know was there. That’s helped me so much with “Merrily,” particularly in the first act. Learning the kung fu was, like, months of fight training. They called me the Savage, because I was so into it. We were shooting a big fight sequence with Keanu, and, after the first few takes, I remember Lana [Wachowski] at the monitor, like, “Jonathan, come over here. Who is that?” I was, like, “I don’t know.” And she was, like, “And what is that?” I said, “Gay rage?”

I’d never shot a gun before. I shot Keanu and thought I had peed my pants, because I had this hot feeling. You know when you pee yourself and it’s warm? It lasted about ten minutes and then it went away. I sat next to Keanu and said, “Keanu, I just had extreme heat from my groin for, like, ten minutes.” And he was, like, “You opened up your root chakra.”

You turned thirty that year [Hamilton]? How was that?

I remember it vividly. We were at the Public Theatre. There was a fire in the East Village, and the show was cancelled that night. I got a cupcake at the deli around the corner from my apartment, on Sixteenth Street, and ate it by myself. I can be a bit of a loner, so that was a happy birthday for me.

(On Looking being cancelled)

But, in 2015, Michael Lombardo was our executive at HBO, and I was crying into my salad at some restaurant in West Hollywood, trying to convince him to keep the show going, right before getting on the plane to come do “Hamilton” Off Broadway.

I loved Raúl Castillo, who played your love interest Richie on the show. I interviewed him around then, and he told me that, since he’s straight, you all had to teach him some of the mechanics of what gay people do.

Oh, yeah! God, I love him so much. I officiated his wedding in July.

Let’s go back to 2013, when “Frozen” came out. You voiced the iceman Kristoff and the reindeer Sven. How did that film change your life?

It’s funny—I remember recording some of “Frozen” in San Francisco. I would be teaching Raúl, like, how to lick my asshole while jerking me off—not teaching him, but sharing the ins and outs of gay intimacy—and then going into the recording studio on a Saturday and being Kristoff and Sven in a Disney movie.

When they showed me “Let It Go” for the first time, I was, like, Oh, my God, this will help millions of people come out of the closet. This is the gayest thing I’ve seen in my life! That was the thing about “Frozen”: I don’t think anyone who worked on it thought it was going to be a juggernaut. It’s so weird to think of this now, but when it came out it felt quite alternative, because there was no villain, really, and the love was between two women. Now there are, like, tissues with Elsa on it.

Now we’re moving backward to “Spring Awakening.” By the time it moved to Broadway, in 2006, you were the twenty-one-year-old lead of the coolest musical in town. What was your actual life like?

I was so not cool. The show was cool, and the music was cool. I had people dropping me off joints at the theatre. And I remember fully understanding the stark difference between who I was playing onstage and who I was in real life, which was an extreme theatre nerd who wanted to be in the ensemble of “Thoroughly Modern Millie” and never would have imagined playing Melchior. It’s his gravitas. And trying to tap into that side of myself, which was a side I’d never experienced before.

Tell me about your audition.

I went to the open call and knew who Michael Mayer was, because he had directed “Thoroughly Modern Millie.” But it was “Spring Awakening” and I was, like, There’s a beating scene? This is so intense! They called me in for Melchior, then had me sing “Hey Jude” in a falsetto, and Michael was, like, “That was your falsetto?” And I laughed at him sort of making fun of me. Tom Hulce, who was our producer, told me years later that he moved my head shot from the “No” pile into the “Yes” pile because I had laughed at Michael in the audition, and he thought, This kid has the ability to let Michael roll off his back. We should bring him back in the next month or two.

It was, like, ten people up for Melchior. They brought me in first, because they thought they would just see me and cut me. But I had worked so hard on the audition material. I remember calling my dad the night before the final callback and saying to him, “I know I can’t be this character all the way yet, but I—”[He tears up again.] I really got to get my shit together! Why does this keep happening to me?

Because we’ve gone on an emotional journey.

I guess so, in reverse! Fuck me. [Pauses.] I knew that I had it inside, if they would just give me the chance. That’s all I was trying to say, but I guess I can’t stop crying while I’m saying it.

In 2005, you made your Broadway début, as an understudy in “In My Life.” Now, this was the weirdest musical I’ve ever seen. As I recall, there were dancing skeletons in a song about how everyone has a skeleton in their closet, a giant lemon that came from the sky at the end, and a girl on a scooter who turns out to be a ghost. And it was written by the guy who wrote “You Light Up My Life,” who then came to a dark end.

And his son!

Yes, his son killed his girlfriend. What the hell was going on with that show? Did you ever go on?

I went on for the ensemble members. I was so excited! I was in my first Broadway show, at the Music Box Theatre, walking in where it says “Stage Door.” And you couldn’t give away tickets to see the show. People were coming to laugh at the show from the audience.

Like “Springtime for Hitler”?

Exactly. And the cast had to do the show, even though people were laughing at them, which is devastating for the actors. But we formed a little family. It’s the plight of the actor. You’re just out there, like Sally Bowles in “Cabaret.” I was twenty years old, so I was lit.

Had you been waiting tables?

Yeah. The whole year before that, I was at the Chelsea Grill, in Hell’s Kitchen. The day I got to New York—October 21, 2004—I moved to Fifty-first Street and Ninth Avenue, before it was super gay, and I walked down Ninth and got a job waiting tables. A week later, I waited on Tom Viola, who runs the charity Broadway Cares, and became a bucket collector. I’d watch the second act of shows and then collect the money at the end. I went to hundreds of auditions, trying to get my Equity card. That, to me, was “Opening Doors,” from “Merrily”—that moment of sheer will and ambition and ignorance.

We’ve now reached our finale, which is 2004. Can you tell me about the decision to move to New York?

My mom was a gym teacher and my dad is a horse trainer, and they didn’t really understand anything about the performing world. But my dad grew up on a dairy farm, and he was supposed to take over and become a Mennonite preacher, which is what my grandfather was. My dad didn’t like cows—he liked horse racing, so he sort of rebelled and did his own thing. My mom always says that nurse, secretary, or teacher were the options for women in a small town at that time, but her passion was sports, so she ended up being a coach.

So they understood the power of fanning the flame of passion. When I was a kid and into acting, they drove me to play practice. They drove me to community theatre. My senior year of high school, my mom drove me to New York to audition for this bus-and-truck tour of “The Sound of Music.” I got that tour, and deferred my admission to Carnegie Mellon. I made ten thousand dollars after a year on the road, and I learned so much from getting to act every day. I wanted to take my ten thousand and move to New York, and my parents were super supportive: “If you feel like you need to go to college, you can always go to college. But take a gamble and move to the city.” I’d worked at this theatre in Lancaster called the Fulton Opera House, where I’d met this girl who wanted to move to New York, so she became my roommate.

To me, “Merrily We Roll Along” is about how difficult it is to stay in touch with the person you were as adulthood knocks you sideways and forward. When you think about nineteen-year-old Jonathan coming to New York, do you feel like you’re the same person? What’s changed?

[He bursts into tears.] I can’t tell why I cry! When we were about to start rehearsal for “Merrily,” I would listen to “Our Time,” and I couldn’t sing it without crying. And, when I think about that version of myself—I think it’s because that person who brings you here does diminish. Maybe it’s the grief for that person. The whole reason that I’m here now is because of that person, but that person no longer exists.

But that person is still in there, somewhere. That voice is so quiet now, but it’s still driving my choices. You have to make choices. You get older, that pure inspiration dies, but it doesn’t have to go all the way away. I think that’s the whole point of the show, why it goes backward. Maria says that Sondheim put all of his regret into it, so that we could have less regret for ourselves. And perhaps the reason it ends with these people, with these versions of ourselves that we remember when we see it, is that it’s an invitation to remember and honor that person.

Why does that make me cry? Is it grief? Is it joy? I don’t know, but I’m so grateful for that purity and that optimism. The first month that I was here, feeling so lost and confused, I pulled the Bible that my Mennonite grandmother gave me off the bookshelf. She gave me that Bible before I left town. I was alone in the apartment thinking, What the fuck am I doing in New York? Or not even “what the fuck”—I didn’t swear until “Spring Awakening,” and when I would sing “Totally Fucked” I would get beet red. And I remember putting the Bible down and thinking, This is not the answer. This is not making me feel good. And then running to Central Park and standing in front of the Bethesda Fountain. I was nineteen, and I was, like, This feels better—but, like, What? Who am I? What am I doing here? I know I want to act, but I’m so scared. And gay. But it was something—some voice, some passion, some inspiration. Some something brought me here.