The two lives of alum Anthony P. Armstrong by Katlin Smith A raspy musician in a rumpled suit enters a New York City hotel room. He eases onto the bed, deep coughs rattling his body as he reaches for a bottle of gin. He's 59 and only hours from death. And he's played to perfection by 34.-year-old Anthony P. Armstrong ('76). Amlstrong has recently received fervent reviews for his performance as tenor sax player Lester Young in "The Resurrection of lady lester," performed at the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center in Portland. The PSU alum "grabs the role of jazz saxophonist lester Young and shakes it-and the theater-to irs foundations," writes Oregonian critic Bob Hicks. And shakes the audience he does. But Armstrong may be one of Portland's least public actors, a humble performer in a namboyant field. "I love it that way because I'm not your actor stereotype," he says. '" Armstrong did finally find a role model in the theater. After viewing a performance of itA Raisin in the Sun" with his junior high class, he sneaked backstage to meet the star, Paul Winfield. In a brief but inspiring moment, the actor asked him how he was doing in school and advised him to keep up the good work. "He was a positive influence. And to this day, he's my favorite actor," he says. Armstrong's adolescence was marked by more than the theatrical experiences. He spent more time "acting out" than ading. "I couldn't see past my nose," Armstrong says of those reckless days. A joy ride with a friend who had stolen a car resulted in a four-month sojourn in juvenile hall. "Once I got in there, I realized that wasn't where I wanted to be," he says. "1 was a 13-year-old and I was in jail." Fortunately, a counselor took an interest in him resulting in a turn to spons and studies upon his release. "I " .. .once I do get the opportunity to do theater, it's just like being in the desert and getting water. .. " was actually embarrassed a lot of times-people coming up to me and saying. 'Hey man, I saw your picture In the paper. I didn't know you do this.' " Many of his friends were oblivious to his theatrical talents as were co-workers at Union Oil where he is a retail representative. An extra in LA. Armstrong took his first bite of the acting life 30 years ago but was far from smitten. Growing up in los Angeles, the PSU alum and his nine brothers and sisters were extras in Hollywood productions, "not an uncommon thing in los Angeles," he says. "All these people you see in movies like 'Ben Hur'-where did they come from?" he asks. "They are just regular people from los Angeles. " The "Ben Hur" crowds were filmed sans Armstrong. He made his film debut later in "Rachel Cade," starring Angie Dickinson. Five-year-old Armstrong promptly blew his part by running in front of the star during the filming of a scene. The e x p l ~ t i v e s she screamed a ~ him were not in the script. As a teenager, Armstrong shared the screen with Sidney Paitier in "They Call Me Mr. Tibbs." His opinion of actors was reinforced when Poitier refused to talk to him. "I was about 1 6 ~ y e a r s - o l d at the time and I was a wide-eyed kid and he wouldn't talk to me. I mean, who am I?" he jokes. "You nea, get out of here," he mimics a perfect Poilier accent. "My impression of these people is that they were jerks," he says, "and I didn't want to be involved in it." P A ~ 12 / PSU Perspective, Spring 1986 never got in trouble With the police again," he reports. After high school, Armstrong attended colleges In Helena, Mont., los Angeles, and Northridge, Calif. Out of money, he had dropped OUf to work when a friend advised him that Portland State was recruiting football players. Ron Stratton of PSU asked him to send films of his playing. The result was an important athletic scholarship for the linebacker. He played ball in 1974, resigning the next season to focus on his studies. "When I let go of football, my grades shot up:' Armstrong states. "It felt really good." At the same time, he transferred his playing ability from the athletic field to the stage. While majoring in history, Armstrong look a year-and-one-half of theater courses at PSU, starring in "The River Niger" with Rosemary Allen. And he performed in lunchbox theater productions. from sales rep to jazz great Armstrong honed his research skills at PSU while studying history, 'SO he naturally returned to the PSU library while researching the life of lester Young. "1 didn't know much about lester Young," he relates. "He was one of the major transcenders from the swing era to bebop. It's incredible how he used to play." It was that playing, not Young's words, that intimidated Armstrong on stage. Though not a musician himself, he was expected to carry the sax on stage like a n a t u r a l ~ b o r n jazz man and to occasionally playa note or two on the instrument. "Sometimes I Anthony P. Armstrong ('78) as 5dX player Lester Young wondered if anything was going to (orne out. And one performance nothing did come out. So I started coughing," he laughs. "l'm secure in my acting, but something like a saxophone ... oh man. II used 10 scare me!" Armstrong more than overcame the fear, passing the ultimate test when OyamO, the playwright of "lady lester," flew in from New York City to watch the Portland production, the West Coast premiere of his play. "I wanted him to grade me," says Armstrong. "He was really happy about the acting. He pulled me aside and said, 'Hey, man, you gave il life.' " Switching from sales rep to jazz great to sales rep again, Armstrong learned his many lines-he was in every scene in the play-while driving through his Union Oil territory which stretches across northwest Oregon and southwest Washington. When the play dosed in February, he had given 25 exhausting performances while continuing his full-time professional duties. While he has an agent scouting for other parts, and has completed a video drama and a radio ad for a Portland bank, the part-time actor is committed to a non-theatrical life. "My number one priority is my job," he firmly states. But the theater does have allure, and lure. "I tell you, once I do gel the opportunity to do theater, it's just like being in the desert and getting water every now and then, /I the PSU alum says. "You cherish it and hold on to it as long as you can ... And that's theater to me." Armsirong, in turn, gave a cherished performance back to Portland audiences. In the words of theater critic Bob Hicks, "We don't observe his performance; we feel it in our blood. More theater should be like thaI."
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