Omar Shapli Obituary

Omar Shapli 1930-2010 Omar Shapli died peacefully on December 29, 2010 at the Berkshire Medical Center with his wife at his side. He was born on August 2, 1930 in Cairo, Egypt and came to the United States as a young child with his mother, Frances (Smith) Shapli. His father, General Aziz Ali el Masri Shapli (Schabli), remained in Egypt. Omar graduated from Scarsdale High School in 1948 and attended the University of Chicago. He was drafted in 1951 and is a veteran of the Korean War. Following his tour of duty, Omar returned to Chicago, where he began a long career as actor, director, writer and teacher. He was a working member of Second City in the 1960s and has written, directed and acted in numerous plays in Chicago and New York. He loved music and shared this love as announcer on WFMT in Chicago, WRVR in New York, where he also produced a series of radio plays, and WNYC. Omar taught at NYU School of the Arts (Tisch School of the Arts) from 1966-1983 and chaired the acting program there during the late 1970s and early 1980s. He chaired the Theater Program at CCNY from 1983 until his retirement and taught at Dartmouth, Emerson and Williams. Omar liked to say that he preserved his sanity while teaching by writing poetry, some of which has appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Café Review, Main Street Rag, New Orleans Review, Small Pond, and viviparous blenny, to name a few. He has three published collections of poems: The General Is Asked His Opinion and other sad songs 2002-2005 , Them: poems 1999-2002 and Thin Snow: poems 2006-2008 . Omar and his wife, Tryntje, met at Bennington College in 1959 where he was playwright-in-residence and she a student. They were married June 18, 1961 in Truro, Cape Cod. Omar loved the Cape and spent much time there with his family. Omar and Tryntje bought their home in Williamstown in 1992. Omar was an inspirational teacher and a generous man whose warmth, imagination, wit and intellect will be treasured by all who knew him. Besides his wife, he is survived by their three sons, Tarik, Alaric and Zachary and two grandsons, Ivan and Isaac. FUNERAL NOTICE: A memorial celebration of Omar's life will be held at a yet-to-be determined date. Omar's ashes will be interred in Williamstown. The FLYNN & DAGNOLI-MONTAGNA HOME FOR FUNERALS WEST CHAPELS, 521 West Main St. North Adams, MA is in charge of arrangements.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by The Berkshire Eagle on Jan. 8, 2011.

Memories and Condolences
for Omar Shapli

11 Entries

Terri Augello

Planted Trees

Stephen Hymes

December 9, 2022

It was only recently that I learned of the sad 2010 passing of Omar Shapli, with whom I had studied and worked, and am prompted by those memories to offer a very belated but heartfelt remembrance.
Unlike so many in academia (it's hard to picture him as an "academic", however technically he may have fit the bill), he functioned in varied and often incongruent capacities: teacher, director, wit, raconteur, writer, mentor, theorist, bar buddy, left wing provocateur and coffee house intellectual, and perhaps most indelibly to me, the largest single contributor to the profits of Heineken Brewing Company. With Omar, those categories meshed so seamlessly that one didn't often know which was the default status. It didn't matter. It was Omar, and whatever you brought that day, he was there.

In numerous meandering discourses he would unpretentiously reveal the breadth of his knowledge, which was more impressive for being gained, not through endless matriculation, but through the processes of a thirsty, absorbent mind. Much of that lore he consigned to us on many lubricated evenings, where in sudsy thunder the world's knotty challenges were met and, at least to us, subdued. The stickier the issue, the more muscular the deliverance. When occasion required, he would aim one of his stylish epistles - he was perhaps more than anything else a writer --- at whatever bureaucrat or other miscreant had traduced his sense of fairness or reason. He had, in spades, a talent for waggishly exposing the folly of opponents' views, not that he was always right, just always funny, knowing as he did, that humor in the service of argument can be as lethal as a stiletto.

His varied cultural references ranged from classical music to classic film, and though I chose to think that I would have discovered the richness of the latter on my own, he provoked my interest with his steady quotes from this or that masterpiece, most notably "Casablanca" ("I am shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on", etc.), which due to his prompting I finally saw, and which like the Grand Canyon did not disappoint.

It seemed fitting that his forte, at least when I knew him, was as an instructor of Theater Games, a wacky improvisational genre that contrasted refreshingly with the ordained "traditional" approach and its clannish patois (it's hard to imagine him brandishing words like "objectives", "motivation", and other marks of election). For him, and for his students, performance was in the most constructive sense, fun, and who better to pilot the process than a man who was in large and constructive measure, a big kid. The games exercised an under-used but potentially powerful theatrical muscle that had atrophied in the shadow of more conventional methods, but which produced not only classroom hysterics, but often viable original material. From this idiom he fashioned several theater pieces; some worked, some did not. But the failures were those of overreaching rather than artlessness, occasioned as they sometimes were by his partaking of liquid solace.

He had his eccentricities, and as so often with the gifted, those quirks could be charming even as they misfired. I remember his attending a party (non-costume) wearing a Russian muzhik's blouse that made him look like he'd stepped out of a production of Boris Godunov. But such was his relationship with students that I didn't hesitate to tell him that he looked mildly absurd. And I always suspected that his grand and often-twirled mustache was worn partly to enhance his minor resemblance to the young Joseph Stalin --- with whom, be assured, there were no other similarities.

Among his stubborn drives was to mount ambitious pieces based on major persons and events in American history. In this, he would tend to overreach in a noble, but ultimately bootless attempt to wed quirky techniques to such weighty themes. (It would be another decade before "Hamilton" would successfully use a modern, non-traditional idiom to express a classic American tale.) In a perhaps predictable irony, his most satisfying work derived more purely from the games and improvisation that were his essential métier. These were the audience pleasers, devoid of highbrow designs but unburdened by them as well.

The last images I saw of him were on a website that showed him reading his original poetry in a Greenwich Village cafe. It seems that in the succeeding years he had built a reputation as a respected poet. It didn't surprise me that his creative energies extended into later life. And it was good to see that the event was well attended by many of his former students. But the images had a sobering side: he did appear much altered. If I had passed him on the street that day, I wouldn't have known him. Some people change little, some change more yet remain familiar, and a blessed few seem to change not at all. Omar may not have been fortunate in the above ways, but was in so many others.

As these memories assembled, I heard the poignant coda of James Taylor's "Fire and Rain" floating softly through the air. I picked up on the words ---- "but I always thought that I'd see you again." Indeed, with Omar I'd always thought that I would. But it was not to be. Yet I think it would have given him wry satisfaction to know that I was writing this in the kind of watering hole (drinking Heineken, no less) where he used to grandly hold forth, and to know that I was acknowledging the imprint he had left. Every great, or even good teacher leaves something. He left more than most. And so, Omar, good night.

Jerry Boyke

February 4, 2011

I remember him as an announcer on WFMT in the 60s and his humorous contributions to the New Year's eve edition of the Midnight Special. What a distinctive voice. What a remarkable man.

Terria Joseph

January 16, 2011

I would like to light a candle to my teacher, Omar, in honor of his life, his contribution to the arts, his laughter, his smile. I know my improvisation skills and willingness to just relax into the work is because of him. The light he shone over us all, dimmed ever so slightly. Goodbye Omar. Sincere Condolences to his Family.

Lynn Weinstein

January 15, 2011

Omar was a great friend and one of my first champions as a young actress. We spent hours at The Orchidia, which was NYU's version of an actor's Algonquin table, with Omar always sharing the greatest tales about theatre, politics and life. He cast me in my first leading part at a very hard time in my life, for which I always be grateful. He was such a wonderful director and friend. I worked with him again on "The Chilean Game" (which he wrote in response to the assasination of Allende). We also worked for a few years at St. Clement's ( one play, a relatively unknown and fascinating play by John Arden) where I first got to sing, dance and act. He always saw me as powerful, a great gift to a young actress.
Omar madly loved his children and beautiful wife. Thank you for sharing him with us so we can always remember his grand passion for life, politics and art. And thank you for allowing us to be with him again when he read his poetry.
Blessings to all of you
Lynn Weinstein
(New York City)

Linda Elbow

January 14, 2011

Peter Schumann would like to send condolences to the family. He doesn't use a computer. Is there a postal address that Peter can write to?

Linda Elbow
Bread & Puppet Theater

January 14, 2011

Milling and seething?
And looking for Omar?

Step inside the Orchidia at Second Avenue & Ninth Street anytime from the mid-70's to the mid-80's, slide into the booth just inside the door to the right, and there he'll be - in his "office" - his back to the window,
reading glasses dangling across a corduroy shirt, the New York Times spread haphazardly on the table, and a tall glass of Spaten always within reach. Looking up, he will greet you with a warm, surprised chuckle, a wonderful smile, and an inimitable twinkle in his eye. He'll open his hand, and offer you a seat.

If you find him there, he'll always have time for a chat, a "chat" that might well range into the wee, dim hours of the night. Inside the Orchidia, you will almost never talk about the theater, but you'll find yourself learning more about what it means to be a compassionate, imaginative, engaged human being in that one little corner of New York City than almost anywhere else. You will be in the welcome company of a singularly great teacher, one who implicitly understands that the best learning is earned by doing - "playing," if you will - at first, minding all the rules, and then, of course, not minding any of them at all.

We offer our prayers, our hearts, and our sorrow
to Tryntje, Tarik, Alaric, Zachary, and their families;
not only has the orchid long since faded,
but so now, too, has its brightest, most radiant light.

"Many a tear has to fall, but it's all in the game,
All in the wonderful game we know as love."

Holly Thuma and Larry John Meyers
NYU SOA, 1979
(Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)

?

January 11, 2011

I can hear Omar, rumbling about "Defenestration," unable to stop laughing- Omar the "Chilean Game" writer, the games framer/observer. I am so grateful I was able to hear him read his poetry not so far from Phebe's or the Orch that Mother's Day. By the way, the Spring Hill School's campus still exists (it simply has another name...) Love, Polly

Abigail Costello

January 10, 2011

Omar was so influencial in my life, first as a teacher at the School of the Arts, and than again as an actress in his company, Section Ten. He taught me to think on my feet, to relax in performance, to trust my instincts,and to be open to the moment and those lessons served me well in life as well as the theatre. When I think back to those years I spent with him, I am so grateful. I will always remember that great, booming laugh and that wicked sense of humor.

Bruce Cobb

January 10, 2011

I am sorry to hear of Omar's passing. He was a key teacher at the School of the Arts...I guess I studied with him in the late 60's...for two years...wonderful man...wonderful experience. I was very happy when he was chosen to lead the school for a time. I believe I worked with one of the sons in San Francisco about 10 years ago...I'm sorry to say that I no longer remember which son or the nameof the shop...or even the show. If you remember me contact me at [email protected]. Abby Costello sent me a picture of Omar and Me playing "Press Conference" in '67 or '68. It was part of an invitation to a TSOA reunion. I'm sorry I don't have a scanner...
Omar was a fine man!

Lynn Rogoff

January 8, 2011

I am so sorry to learn of Omar's passing. He will be terribly missed. He was a special man with an indomitable, kind spirit. He had a great laugh and a fabulous imagination. He gave of his time with pleasure. He directed my play " Love, Ben Love , Emma" at the White Barn Theatre to rave reviews
http://www.amerikids.com/Theatre%20Reviews.htm
All of the cast and crew adored him.

He will always be remembered fondly by all that had the pleasure of his company.

Warm Regards,
Lynn Rogoff

Showing 1 - 11 of 11 results