THEATER
Atlanta actor refuses to let blindness keep him from sighted roles
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Sunday, January 04, 2009
He first appears on stage about 30 minutes into “Veranda,” the campy, Atlanta-centric comedy at the Ansley Park Playhouse.
His character is a charming homeless guy named Henry, brought into a madcap Buckhead household by the wealthy family’s young daughter. It’s not a big part, but a lot of comedy pivots around it: Henry translates a letter written in Spanish; the maid flirts with him; he’s yanked off a couch by the family matriarch desperate to win Christian of the Year, then jumps on and off a coffee table and rushes out the door.
Joey Ivansco/jivansco@ajc.com
Charles Mason, born premature, lost his sight to a disease caused by oxygen treatment in infancy. He plays a sighted character in ‘Veranda’ at Ansley Park Playhouse.
Joey Ivansco/jivansco@ajc.com
Family competition ensues in earnest in ‘Veranda’ at the Ansley Park Playhouse.
Henry isn’t blind. But Charles Mason, the actor playing him, is.
“I can’t tell everybody, ‘I’m Charles Mason, the legally blind guy,’” Mason allows backstage before a recent show. “What I love about acting is I get to be someone else for one or two hours. I lose my flaws and imperfections. It gives me a chance to step outside myself.”
Those who know Mason, 25, aren’t surprised that he’s on stage in a sighted role, his first as a professional. He’s been defying expectations since he was born three months premature. Doctors told his parents he wouldn’t make it through the night. A priest gave him last rites.
Mason was then given pure oxygen to strengthen his lungs, and three months later he came home. But a side effect of the treatment was retinopathy of prematurity, a disease that left him legally blind.
Doctors told his parents their son would never be able to attend a school not designed for students who are disabled. He went on to graduate from the Westminster Schools and Furman University.
“I didn’t listen to any of that. I just had more faith in God than that,” says Petrina Mason, his mother. “We always raised him like he could do whatever he wanted to do. No one ever told him ‘No.’ He had to draw the line. We never drew the line for him.”
Mason, who sees blurred images and can read words a few inches in front of him, has drawn few lines for himself over the years. He played football and wrestled at Westminster. He also started to act there his freshman year, when he played Tom Robinson in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” The role required him at one point to make a one-handed catch of a glass tossed at him by Atticus Finch.
“Yeah, I’m legally blind. But I never use that as an excuse,” he says. “Unless I tell somebody or they already knew, they’re kind of shocked.”
Thad Persons, who was Westminster’s drama instructor at the time, recalls the first day he had Mason in one of his English classes. Mason sat in the front row and squinted at everything Persons wrote on the blackboard. Persons, who hadn’t been told that Mason was blind, asked if he needed help seeing.
“He said, ‘Well, I don’t want any special treatment,’ ” Persons recalls. “That captures the way he thought of himself. Here was someone with a legitimate visual handicap, and he never let on, and you’d never know he could see only a fraction of what you could see.
“I think Charles recognized what the perceived limitations were of him,” Persons adds, “and he sought to constantly transform himself, whether it was to play on the football team or act complex interactive roles on stage. I can honestly say, to my shame, that I made virtually zero accommodations for Charles. I never thought there was anything he couldn’t do.”
Mason continued acting, with a memorable role as Oberon in Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He went on to act at Furman, where he majored in communications studies. The plays and roles became more challenging. His highlight: the lead, as Coalhouse Walker Jr., in the school’s lavish musical production of “Ragtime,” in which he sang and danced.
“I knew from when I directed him in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ that he had talent and drive,” says Persons, who saw Mason in “Ragtime.” “But I didn’t know he had the range and versatility that he showed in college and is continuing to show.”
Mason got a job after graduation with AirTran as a customer care specialist. He also enrolled a few years ago at Nick Conti’s Professional Actor’s Studio to improve his skills and get professional work.
Conti, a professional actor for 32 years, said he didn’t realize Mason was blind until the two had an extended conversation. Then he noticed that Mason had to move his gaze off to the side to look directly at him. It was a problem on stage, where eye contact is key to characters’ interactions. So the two worked on getting Mason to look directly at the actor he was engaged with, even though that meant he didn’t see that actor at all.
“I thought it would be a two-year process,” Conti says. “He did it in six months. Blew my mind.”
Mason had a number of auditions around town, but never got a call back until he performed at an actor’s showcase in June. In attendance: John Gibson and Anthony Morris, the Ansley Park owners who wrote and produced “Veranda,” as well as “Peachtree Battle,” the longest-running play in Atlanta history. Both were impressed by Mason’s performance and, like Conti, didn’t realize he was blind until they talked with him afterward.
“He’s a really good actor,” Gibson says. “We said, ‘There’s a lot of physical comedy. Is that going to be a problem?’ And he said, ‘No, throw everything at me you want.’ “
The set is a furniture-filled living room, and Mason walked off all of his movements so that he could navigate it as if he could see.
“I don’t even realize it [that he’s blind], and I’m standing right there,” says Tina McKissick, who has the lead role as the mother. “He’s amazing.”
Mason’s experience with “Veranda,” which runs through Feb. 1, has left him wanting to do more. His mother says Mason is “in his element when he’s acting. That’s his passion.”
Mason’s taking it one step at a time.
“I’m enjoying this,” he says. “I want to do more. I want to get better, get more experience. I’d just love to have that choice.
“It’s really exciting,” he adds. “You just gotta keep believing.”
