Alan Jay Lerner – Theatre Aficionado at Large

Barbara Harris in “On a Clear Day You Can See Forever”

I’m a big fan of Barbara Harris, make no bones about it. She’s a fascinating performer with a unique comic sensibility. For musical theatre fans, she’s most famous for her two back to back shows On a Clear Day You Can See Forever and The Apple Tree, earning Tony nominations for both (and a win for the latter). These are performances that theatregoers of the 1960s are still talking about today. I think in part it’s because Harris never returned to Broadway after The Apple Tree (Walter Kerr deemed her performance in the Bock & Harnick show “the square root of noisy sex”).

Harris found relative stardom in Hollywood in Robert Altman’s Nashville, Alfred Hitchcock’s Family Plot (as a phony medium), and as Jodie Foster’s mom in the first Freaky Friday. She was also Oscar nominated in 1970 for Who is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?, but shifted out of show business in the 80s and 90s (her last film role was in Grosse Point Blank in 1997). In a 2002 interview she claimed that she was more interested in the acting process than fame or even being successful, and says she doesn’t miss performing (definitely our loss).

Here’s a glimpse at her performance in On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, from a Bell Telephone Hour special on Alan Jay Lerner in 1966. She is joined by co-star John Cullum presenting a series of numbers (“Hurry! It’s Lovely Up Here!,” “Melinda,” “On the S.S. Bernard Cohn,” “What Did I Have That I Don’t Have?” and the title song). The musical itself is truly original – Lerner was interested in exploring ESP and reincarnation. Originally I Picked a Daisy, it was to have a music by Richard Rodgers. However, Burton Lane eventually wrote the music (Lerner and Lane previously worked on the 1951 musical Royal Wedding for MGM).

The show played the Mark Hellinger Theatre for 280 performances. There was chaos during the try-out in Boston. Lerner was taking amphetamines at the time, and that got in the way of his writing. Original leading man Louis Jordan was let go in Boston, as were several other actors whose roles were eliminated. The show opened in NY to less than stellar reviews, but Harris’ kooky Daisy, a girl who hears phones before they ring and can talk flowers out of the ground, charmed audiences. The original cast album has preserved the best of the show – namely the cast and the beautiful score. There have been attempts to revise the show almost from the outset, but will be seen in a wholly new version opening on Broadway in the fall (Daisy is now David). And the less said about the 1970 film adaptation, the better.

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They Should Have Stayed Another Week in Philadelphia

On February 23, 1976, the musical 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue had its world premiere performance at the Forrest Theatre in Philadelphia. The much-anticipated collaboration between musical theatre titans Leonard Bernstein and Alan Jay Lerner had been rehearsing in Manhattan for the previous weeks under the direction of Frank Corsaro and choreographer Donald McKayle. Tony Walton had designed the sets and costumes. Sid Ramin and Hershy Kay charted the orchestrations. Coca-Cola had put up the entire investment for what was looking to be Broadway’s big Bicentennial musical. This was the start of a pre-Broadway tour; and odyssey that would incidentally take the Presidential musical to the three cities which served as our nation’s capital.

Leonard Bernstein made a pre-show curtain speech in which he expressed his nerves and apologies to the Philadelphia audience for having canceled the scheduled first preview the night before. “The only trouble is that the scenery didn’t get here until Saturday afternoon, which is a mere three days ago and that meant that our most excellent company could not touch foot to stage until that moment.” He seems almost too apologetic, offering a flattering, “I know that you are the best trained out of town public in the whole country” and warns that “…this evening may be a long one; a long haul marred by pauses in which scenes simply do not appear uh and which you are subjected to the awful agony of sitting in black silence where nothing seems to be happening. If this should occur – which I perfectly hope it doesn’t – please know that we are all sharing your agony and that we are trying to make it as brief as possible.”

The musical starts with a mournful Prelude, whose melody is woven into the fabric of the entire score. This leitmotif will be somewhat jettisoned before the show reaches the Kennedy Center, as a new opening and a more traditional and livelier overture will be developed. As it played in Philadelphia, the show was considerably more somber. In a year of Bicentennial celebrations, a musical about the problems of housekeeping (as it was billed) made a fatal error in highlighting the less than commendable aspects of American history, a relentless critique where audiences had anticipated something more jubilant and celebratory.

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue ultimately became a concept musical with footnotes. While presenting this tapestry of American history from 1800-1900, the revue-like musical was also a play-within-a-play. The “actors” stepped out of their characters to provide a contemporary perspective and analyze and debate race relations in American history. After establishing what the play is about (which briefly descends into minstrel show banter that comes out of nowhere and goes nowhere), the company prepares onstage for the first scene, finding places, making sure Washington’s teeth are around and assembling to sing “Ten Square Miles on the Potomac.” It’s a fantastic number, but not quite appropriate for establishing the tone of a musical.

Lerner had originally envisioned the show as a reaction to the corrupt Nixon administration and Watergate scandal. Our democracy would be seen metaphorically as a musical in perpetual rehearsal and in search of structure. One actor (Ken Howard) played all the Presidents, one actress (Patricia Routledge) all the First Ladies, while a black actor (Gilbert Price) and actress (Emily Yancy) portrayed four generations of a White House servant family.

Arthur Laurents was sought to direct. He told Bernstein and Lerner that they were writing a show about Black America and that it should be about the servants. Bernstein and Lerner disagreed and Laurents ultimately passed on the project. What the show needed more than a strong script was a strong musical theatre director with vision. Unfortunately, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue never received either. Lerner was also good friends with the CEO of Coca Cola, who was convinced to allow the company to be the sole backer ($900,000). A rush was put on to bring the yet unfinished musical to Broadway in time for the Bicentennial.

In the most arresting scene of the first act, and ultimately of the entire musical, the audience is introduced to Abigail Adams. Patricia Routledge dominates the scene, singing what would become the score’s most famous number “Take Care of This House.” It is Mrs. Adams who brings Lud, a runaway slave, into the White House to serve as “the servant bell,” a messenger between the First Lady and the serving staff. Routledge brings empathy and warmth (and great humor) that is otherwise lacking in the show. As both the actress and the First Ladies, she is both the show’s heart and the voice of reason.

Ken Howard revisits Thomas Jefferson, a role he played in the far more successful 1776, for the amusing “The President Jefferson Sunday Luncheon Party March” which only really tells the audience that the third President had an affinity for importing foreign cuisine, while not-so-subtly hinting at his affair with Sally Hemmings. An unlikely scene follows in which he admits to the young Lud (who is writing a letter to Mrs. Adams) his disappointment at the concessions made for allowing slavery in the founding of the country. It is at this point the set breaks down leaving three minutes of dead silence onstage.

The War of 1812 and the burning of the White House are depicted in a lengthy musical scene known as the “Sonatina.” Bernstein’s music was some of his most interesting and the song’s concept was quite brilliant. However, its relation to the musical as a whole feels rather tangential. Nine minutes without the President or First Lady, while British officers ruminate over an abandoned state dinner before they light it on fire. It’s an eight minute sequence whose centerpiece is a variation on “To Tunes of Anacreon” which later became the melody for the National Anthem. It’s of exceptional quality but it exemplifies what is wrong with the musical itself: a series of historical anecdotes, amusing non sequiturs and tangents that lack cohesiveness.

The Monroes have a late night argument about sending slaves back to Africa, culminating in the “Monroviad.” This segues into Lud and Seena’s argument “This Time,” in which she expresses concern over his safety in DC. This leads the actors playing Lud and the President to step out of character to debate race relations, with some tension. (The first time since the opening scene anyone has “stepped out”). Their unresolved argument culminates in the President becoming James Buchanan, who is eviscerated for his ineffectuality in preventing the Civil War. He sings “We Must Have a Ball,” in which Buchanan’s idea of assuaging battle is to bring them together in a civilized party. Lincoln is elected and the South secedes as the curtain falls for the end of act one, which on this premiere night has ran one hour and fifty minutes.

The second act opened with the company singing “They Should Have Stayed Another Week in Philadelphia,” a catchy musical comedy number that might have been more at home in a backstage musical. The lyrics spoke of script doctoring, finding focus, and “fixing what stinks” pertaining to the efforts of the Founding Fathers. Once the reviews came out this was one of the first songs to be cut, as its metaphors inadvertently hit too close to home.

The debate prior to the act one finale continues. The audience quickly learns that the Civil War and presidency of Abraham Lincoln occurred during intermission as the action picks up again with Andrew Johnson. The black chorus sings “Bright and Black,” the promise of a better future for Black America in a post-slavery society though also expressing dislike of Johnson’s administration. The most interesting scene in the second act is a confrontation between the President and Seena, in which they have an open, honest discussion about racial America (also one of the only scenes worth salvaging from the Broadway libretto).

Then we have “Duet for One (The First Lady of the Land),” one of my all-time favorite musical theatre numbers. Routledge absolutely nails it on its first public performance. The unlikely nine minute showstopper became one of the only moments in the entire show that worked in any town. Ms. Routledge delighted crowds switching back and forth between a belty Grant and a coloratura Lucy Hayes with a flip of the trick wig, trading barbs, all the while singing of one of the most fascinating Presidential elections in American history (Rutherford Hayes gets the Presidency in exchange for removing troops from the South effectively ending Reconstruction and starting the Jim Crow era). Philadelphia likes this number and there are even some cries of “Bravo!”if the reception isn’t quite as vociferous as the mid-show standing ovations received in Manhattan.

The next twenty minutes are devoted to Chester Alan Arthur, who became President when James Garfield was assassinated. Reid Shelton has a memorable cameo appearance as the brash, corrupt Senator Roscoe Conkling (responsible for Arthur’s political success) who snidely refers to Arthur as “Your Accidency” when it becomes apparent that the new President won’t play dirty politics. The President warily agrees to host a dinner party for the Robber Baron elite of America (Rockefeller, Vanderbilt). For the evening’s entertainment, a minstrel show is presented highlighting the corruption of these men and insulting them. The audience responds better to this segment than I would have expected (having heard from original cast members that there were walkouts and even cases of booing at some performances).

The “actor” playing Lud has reached his boiling point over the race relations and continues the argument with the “actor” playing the President. Lines between the character and actor become intentionally blurred. The musical settles into disillusionment in “American Dreaming” an angry duet that further explores the actors’ frustrations as both angrily decide not to continue, which puts the play into a state of chaos and the “actors” into pure despondency. It takes the First Lady to bring the “play” back on track as the President admits that ultimately he wants to be proud of his country in spite of all the areas in which is has failed. The stirring finale “To Make Us Proud,” a choral anthem in the tradition of Candide’s “Make Our Garden Grow,” offers a musical resolution to the tension established in that opening prelude. Ken Howard’s last line resonates in the middle of the song, “By God, it’s beautiful. Edith, I don’t whether the problems of this country can ever be solved. But I do know one thing: that the man who lives in that house makes you believe they can be and for sure they never will be.”

And curtain. The first night ran well over three hours. The reviews and word of mouth are not good. Variety deems the show “A Bicentennial Bore.” However, the show attracts sell-out business, breaking a box office record at the Forrest Theatre in its last week before leaving for Washington. However, the Coca Cola, utterly embarrassed by the reception, starts to disassociate itself from the show removing its name from the billing (also taking the free Coke out of the rehearsal room). This musical about the problems of housekeeping would soon find itself with housekeeping problems of its own, with the director, choreographer and set/costume designer all departing company. No two performances were the same until the show was frozen on Broadway, and by that point 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue was one of the highest profile failures for Lerner and especially Bernstein, who would never again compose for Broadway.

“1600 Pennsylvania Avenue,” A Concept

“The play is presented as a rehearsal and takes place on a bare stage against a neutral backdrop, with perhaps one or two masking legs on either side.

During the play the facade of the White House as it changes through the years appears in the dark behind the drop as if suspended in mid-air.

Whenever possible, the actors enter from and exit to rehearsal benches on either side of the stage.

The time of the rehearsal is the present.

The time of the play is 1792-1902.”

This is an excerpt from the first page of a 1975 draft of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, in which librettist and lyricist Alan Jay Lerner establishes his well-intentioned ideas for the show. It all sounds intriguing, but the final product ended up an unfortunate footnote in Broadway history. One hundred years of the White House and race relations, with a passing resemblance to Upstairs/Downstairs presented as a musical with music by Leonard Bernstein.

Why am I fascinated? Because there is so much that is good, but there is no clear execution of the underlying concept. Lerner wanted to use the conceit of the musical play being a show constantly in rehearsal, but there was so much history to cover that the concept muddied the presidential pageantry with what seemed like two or three different musicals happening at once. Lerner wanted the actors to step out and comment on the nation’s racial situation during and between scenes, but it was a promising idea left unfulfilled.

The draft contains many lines and situations which we will be a part of the final musical product (either in Philadelphia or New York). The through line for the family of servants is in place, as well as most of the presidents. Interestingly enough, there was a lot more material for the First Lady in the first version, but the “Duet for One” was not yet conceived. That moment was part of a transition song for the President to sing in the second act while talking to his servant Lud. His lyrics about the Hayes election were incorporated into the future showstopper, but glossed over many years of presidential history, turning events into soundbites.

Already there is trouble. How do you decide which presidents are the most important, especially in terms of racial America? And of course, what about the other troubles of the first hundred years of the White House? Washington appears at the top, skips Adams (leaving that scene for Abigail) into Jefferson without much in the way of lucid transition. It’s confusing just to read one scene go into the next, because the stage ideas are half-baked, musical numbers left unfinished – though there are some which were performed without any changes from this draft. Delving into various presidents, their relationships with the wives plus the household servants, there is little room for the theatrical metaphors, which get lost along the way and are brought up in arbitrary moments. It was in this part of the gestation that a call should have been made regarding whether or not the concept was even necessary. There are passing references to Mrs. Adams, who is easily the most fleshed out of the Presidents or First Ladies, becoming a ghost (!) but again, the ideas lack specificity. For what it’s worth though, the dialogue in this draft is better than most of the lines heard in the final Broadway version. Ultimately 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue became a Presidential revue masquerading as a serious musical play.

But for me it comes back to that score, with its brilliant use of American-sounding idioms and Leonard Bernstein’s variations on patriotic numbers (including citations from “Hail to the Chief,” “Yankee Doodle” and “To Anacreon in Heaven,” which was adapted for our National Anthem). The overture, which played on Broadway, is worthy of the concert stage. Bernstein creates an eclectic musical style, with marches, waltzes, cakewalk, calypso and even a minstrel show reflecting on or commenting on the relations between Black and White America. (The minstrel show was met with a chilly reception, apparently resulting in booing and walkouts, which is also why I’m curious to see The Scottsboro Boys). The whole enterprise is done in by the lofty ambitions of Lerner’s script, which was eviscerated by the time the show opened at the Mark Hellinger Theatre.

I do wish that one of these days, someone might (to steal from Hugh Wheeler) find a coherent existence after so many years of muddle. The show failed, the score was swept under a rug without a cast album. But there are folks who wouldn’t let it be forgotten. Tapes of the show from its various incarnations exist in certain circles, and provide interesting insight into the show that wasn’t there.

In 1997, A White House Cantata, a concert showcasing highlights from the score, was the final result of several attempts at revision. However, as I’ve stated before, I don’t feel that staid classical piece (which plays like a sung history lesson) should be the final word. I do wonder if the Bernstein and Lerner estates would be interested in ever resuscitating the original piece for a complete studio album – with Broadway actors. In spite of the critical response of ’76, what remains is the score. A CD is available of A White House Cantata featuring Thomas Hampson and June Anderson. Conducted without feeling by Kent Nagano, the item is really for serious collectors only. It’s drained of anything close to color and life, mired in classical pretensions (particularly whenever Anderson tries to be funny).

In related news, some numbers from the score have been published for the very first time. “Take Care of This House” was for many years the only song available. The vocal selections which were printed by the Music of the Times Publishing Corp. were available for a short period of time and while incredibly rare, copies are available for perusal in the NYPL stacks. However, the mammoth soprano showcase, “Duet for One” was not included. It is now available for all those daring sopranos out there, published this summer as part of the new three book collection “Bernstein Theatre Songs” (high voice selections). While Bernstein’s “Glitter and Be Gay” is a demanding coloratura aria, his “Duet for One” calls for more incisive acting as the soprano involved must create two specific characters, alternate between mezzo and soprano, and cap it off with a D above high C. It is a highly satisfying enterprise, particularly as performed by Patricia Routledge in the original production.

No amount of revision could make 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue a great musical, or even a functioning one, but it contains a score of considerable merit and one which I think all serious musical theatre fans should know.

Reconsidering “Coco”

It’s hard to describe why I like Coco. It’s not an especially good musical due mostly to a lackluster book by Alan Jay Lerner. But the music by Andre Previn is quite effective and memorable. Unfortunately for Coco, its cast album was poorly recorded (were they in an airport hangar?) and it lives on as a curio. (When I go browsing through record stores, I always find unopened copies of the LP). But word that the show will be revived in NY as part of Musicals in Mufti this fall brings me back to the score, which is admittedly one of my guilty pleasures.

The musical, about the life of Coco Chanel, opened at the Mark Hellinger in December 1969 and is an important footnote as Katharine Hepburn‘s one and only musical. The show was so physically large that it couldn’t go out of town, opting for 40 previews in Manhattan, with director Michael Benthall’s worked eventually assumed by choreographer Michael Bennett, who was fresh from Promises, Promises and about to open Company. There were reports of clashes between the star and members of the creative team (set and costume designer Cecil Beaton especially hated her), as well as the anecdote where she provided tea for construction workers building the Paramount Plaza across the street to keep things quiet during matinees.

The critics were merciless. The musical received six pans out of six from the major critics. But Hepburn did not. Reviews like those received by Coco would be enough to shutter smaller shows that very night. But the presence of Hepburn – then a three-time Oscar-winning star – in a Broadway musical brought in audience members in droves. Ms. Hepburn, who had signed on for a limited six months extended her stay, ultimately leaving on August 1, 1970. The show continued with Danielle Darrieux to dwindling receipts closing two months later, a total of 329 performances. The musical recouped when Ms. Hepburn returned to take the show on its national tour.

Upon hearing the cast album for the first time, Hepburn reportedly commented “I sound like Donald Duck.” Hepburn’s singing style is not dissimilar to that of Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady, only it features a great deal of her New England timbre and vocal idiosyncrisies. But what she lacks in pitch she sure makes up in star power. Hepburn owned the stage from start to finish. She was very vocal about her insecurities (mostly after the fact) but she powered through. According to the books, the race for best actress in a musical was legitimate nail-biter between Hepburn and her good friend (and eventual winner) Lauren Bacall, who was headlining in Applause that same season.

At Hepburn’s final performance, Coco played like a smash. On her entrance at the top of the show, Ms. Hepburn received an extended standing ovation, to cries of “Bravo!” from the audience. From the beginning, Hepburn sinks her teeth into the show and runs with it until the finish. There isn’t much in the way of plot. An aged Coco Chanel wants to come out of retirement while taking an impressionable girl as her protege (while clashing with the girl’s chauvinistic boyfriend). Not much else happens, except Hepburn dropping comic bon mots, recalling her history and carrying musical numbers with her no nonsense vigor and unceasing energy.

One of the most impressive moments of the show came in the first act where Coco recounts her entire history to the ingenue. A musical scene lasting fifteen minutes and two songs – “Mademoiselle Cliche de Paris” into “The Money Rings Out Like Freedom,” the latter of which turns into a tribute to the basic black dress. The musical hinges on Hepburn’s patter in this musical scene and at this final performance the scene received 90 second standing ovation.

Suffice it to say, the show isn’t very interesting when Hepburn is offstage. She has a friend and confidante in her accountant Louis (the always reliable George Rose) and Sebastian Baye, an arch nemesis in what I think may be the gayest character ever written for musical theatre. (When asked if Baye is homosexual, Rose’s response: “Oh, I’m afraid he’s way beyond that.”) Rene Auberjonois played him with so over the top, that I imagine his performance was offensive even to the sensibilities of 1970. The character fulfills every stereotype and then some, but the main problem I have is that the character has absolutely no motivation or arc. He wants Chanel to fail – and to help her fail – but for no discernible reason.

Gale Dixon and David Holliday play the young couple and they barely register a pulse. Dixon is about as bland as it gets, and it seems impossible that Chanel would look at her twice. Holliday sports a spectacular tenor, but while his voice soars his line readings crash with a thud. There is very little to care about these two. She’s naive and relatively new to Paris; he’s a reporter and total boor. I am amused by his act one number “A Woman is How She Loves” for its exceptional melody, but that’s about it.

Coco doesn’t receive many revivals; its reputation precedes it and I will admit that Hepburn’s warbling is an acquired taste. Andrea Marcovicci did a run in San Francisco two years ago, and a revision of the show with a new book was workshopped starring Isabel Keating last year in Manhattan (which was a hot ticket and from all accounts worse than the original). Now those fans and cast album connoisseurs will have the chance to see the show this fall at the York Theatre.

When Hepburn made her final bow in Coco, the orchestra segued into a spirited rendition of “Auld Lang Syne” (which was once a great tradition of closing nights). Ms. Hepburn took several bows while the adoring audience cheered for several minutes. When the music ended, Hepburn stepped forward bringing a hush to the appreciative crowd at the Hellinger. Subdued and gracious, Hepburn made the following speech:

“It’s a…obviously an enormously confusing experience to stop in the middle of something that means as much to me as this play di..ha…does and the things that it has represented to me in what people can do for each other. Alan Lerner had the confidence to trust me to do it. I had two good friends: Roger Edens, who is dead, and Sue Seaton, who teaches me every day, who had the force to convince me that I would be able to do this.

Then I started rehearsal and I was very, very frightened. And all these people whom you see in back of me really gave me the faith to go on. Then there was the terror of the opening night and for some wonderful reason for me, you people (audience) gave me a feeling that you believed that I could do it. I… lived a very fortunate life because I had a father and mother who believed in me. I had brothers and sister who believed in me and a few friends who have believed in me. And I cannot begin to thank you enough and I hope that you learn the lesson that I have learned – and that is, I love you and you love me. Thank you.”

Now that’s a star.

Vocal Selections from "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue"

While I have the vocal score in my possession, I do not have this gem which must be some sort of collector’s item. I find it amusing that a show that played seven performances and folded without a cast album would publish vocal selections, especially since Mr. Bernstein went on to recycle elements of his score into future works. (Bernstein and Lerner made the arrangement with Music of the Times Publishing in November 1974 to publish their collaborative effort). I’m assuming there aren’t many copies of this available, though I did locate several in the NYPL catalogue. Unfortunately if you’re looking to perform the “Duet for One,” that 26 page behemoth has been left out. But there are other hits from the show you can sing around the piano in your living room: “Bright and Black” – “Pity the Poor” – “The President Jefferson Sunday Luncheon Party March” – “The Red, White, and Blues” – “Take Care of This House” – “Seena” – “We Must Have a Ball.”

A lyric you probably don’t know…

This is the opening number from the woefully unrecorded Broadway disaster 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, as I posted earlier one of the few shattered remains of the original theatrical concept of a show-within-a-show… (they went through several tries with this slot before arriving on this one for NY). Now just imagine it with a syncopated, distinctively Bernsteinian sound (the melody was recycled as the second theme for Bernstein’s “Slava: A Political Overture”).

Seriously, I obsess so much about this one, I should write a book about it… or maybe just unearth press photos of Patricia Routledge mid “Duet for One.”

“Rehearse!” – 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Alan Jay Lerner (m. Leonard Bernstein)
Let’s start looking alive
When we arrive
It’s gonna be great.
Keep that fervor ablaze
And one of these days
It’s gonna be great.

In the course of human events,
There’s only one event that makes sense
Rehearse and rehearse
Rehearse and don’t stop
And if we do and if we don’t drop,
It’s gonna be great.

Grindstone under your nose
Up on your toes,
It’s gonna be great.
Keep that fervor ablaze
And one of these days
It’s gonna be great.

If we all have plenty of grit
And if we don’t fall into the pit
Of gloom and
Rehearse, rehearse and don’t stop
And if we do and if we don’t drop
It’s gonna be great.

Don’t let go of the thread
Way up ahead
It’s gonna be great.
Stitch wipe stitch
And you’ll see eventually
It’s gonna be great.

Pray to God as much as you please
He’ll only say,
“Get off of your knees.”
Rise up and rehearse
Rehearse and don’t stop
And if we do and if we don’t drop
It’s gonna be great!

Let’s start knockin’ them dead
Looking ahead
It’s gonna be great.
Let’s make everything pop
For up at the top
It’s gonna be great.

Pray to God as much as you please
He’ll only say,
“Get off of your knees.”
Rise up and rehearse,
Rehearse and don’t stop
And if we do and if we don’t drop
It’s gonna be great!

Let’s start looking alive
When we arrive
It’s gonna be great
Keep that fervor ablaze
And one of these days
It’s gonna be great.

In the course of human events
There’s only one event that makes sense
Rise up and rehearse,
Rehearse and don’t stop
And if we do and if we don’t drop
It’s gonna be great.
Gonna be great!
Gonna be great!
If we rehearse!
If we rehearse!
Rehearse!
Rehearse!
It’s gonna be great!

Quote of the Day

“Since Fritz retired, I have written three musicals for the theatre, On a Clear Day You Can See Forever with Burton Lane, Coco with Andre Previn, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue with Leonard Bernstein, and reversing the normal order, adapted Gigi for the stage. On a Clear Day was modestly received, Coco less modestly, but because of the incredible Katharine Hepburn did well. Gigi, comme ci comme ça. 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, well you remember the Titanic…”

– Alan Jay Lerner’s sole mention of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in his memoir The Street Where I Live, 1978

"1600 Pennsylvania Avenue" – a synopsis of sorts

I found this posted by WesternActor on ATC this evening and felt that it was worthy of sharing; it takes a close look at the songs and scenes of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue as it played in NY in 1976.

Act I

1. Overture (different from the one played at A White House Cantata, but more on that later), a mixture of “American Dreaming” (see below), “Rehearse!”, “Take Care of This House,” and “The President Jefferson March.”
2. Prologue: A march-and-tambourine opening in which the “actors” playing the four leads introduce themselves, their characters, and what the evening will be about.
3. “Rehearse!”: The complete casts sings about the American virtue of trying things over and over agqain until you get them right (“In the course of human events / There’s only one event that makes sense / Rehearse and rehearse / Rehearse and don’t stop / And if we do / And if we don’t drop / It’s gonna be great!”)
4. “If I Was a Dove”: Little Lud, a runaway slave, tries to hide from the people who are trying to track him down in the night.
5. Abigail Adams’s carriage, lost en route to Washington, almost runs over Lud. They strike up a friendship when he gives Abigail directions, and she takes him with her. Along the way, she explains how President Washington founded the city (“On Ten Square Miles by the Potamac River”).
6. “Welcome Home Miz Adams”: The black White House staff greets Abigail and Lud as they begin to get situated in the unfinished White House.
7. President John Adams arrives and immediately begins making plans to leave the house he already hates (“On Ten Square Miles by the Potamac River” reprise, sung by Abigail in Cantata).
8. “Take Care of This House”: Abigail, though distressed at the distressed state of the house, is nonetheless enchanted by it, and sees it as a symbol for the freedom the United States represents. She convinces John to give the house a chance, and he agrees; Lud stays on and joins the serving staff.
9. “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue”: Adams writes an invitation to Abigail for a house-warming party to christen the new Executive Mansion. (“May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof).
10. When Thomas Jefferson becomes president, he insists that all the serving staff, including Lud, learn to write.
11. “The President Jefferson Sunday Luncheon Party March”: Lud writes a letter to Abigail telling her of Jefferson’s latest innovation: music during brunch. During the number, it becomes clear that Jefferson has been having an affair with one of the servants. (In different lyrics in the “oom-pah-pah” section, the women sing “Father of democracy / And I’m told there is proof.”
Lud finishes his letter and time passes).
12. “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue” reprise: Dolly Madison writes an invitation to a Presidential reception during the war of 1812. Lud, now an adult, prepares for the celebration with Jefferson’s daughter, whom he happens to love: “Seena.”
13. “Sonatina”: The Madisons escape from Washington when the British invade Washington, afraid that all the city’s black residents will defect. Lud alone stays behind in the White House and confronts the British. They burn down the city, but a torrential rain prevents the White House from being completely destroyed.
14. “They Don’t Have to Pull It Down”: The original White House architect returns to inspect the damage house, and declares it fixable, though it will take three years.
15. “Lud’s Wedding (I Love My Wife)”: Lud, overjoyed, asks Seena to marry him, and she accepts. The proceedings are overseen by Reverend Bushrod (“Lord look into da window / Where dere’s love dere is life / Take de cake from de oven / We got a lovin’ / Husband and wife!”) and a dance follows.
16. “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue” reprise: Eliza Monroe begins writing an invitation to the official reopening of the White House, but can’t see to complete it because none of the furniture has arrived.
17. “Auctions”: Eliza complains to her husband James about the slave auctions in the streets, which she finds especially detestable because the auctioneers are snatching free people off the streets and selling them into servitude. (This, for the record, is what Lud and Seena are discussing in their duet “This Time,” in the Cantata but not in the show on Broadway.) James is afraid to do anything about this, and proposes ending the problem once and for all by sending all black Americans to Liberia—beginning with the White House staff. Outraged, Eliza goes to bed.
18. “Monroviad (The Little White Lie)”: James tries to convince Eliza this plan is the best way to make things better for everyone, but she refuses to accept it.
19. “The President Jefferson March” reprise: A parade of presidents leads us to
20. “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue” reprise: On the eve of the 1960 election, President James Buchanan writes an invitation to a party celebrating the arrival of the Prince of Wales.
21. “We Must Have a Ball”: Buchanan, aware of the troubles brewing in the country, believes a party between representatives of the North and South will reduce tensions.
22. “Take Care of This House” (reprise): It doesn’t work. Abraham Lincoln is elected, South Carolina secedes, and the curtain falls.

Act II

1. Entr’acte (not in the Cantata in any form), a combination of “The President Jefferson March,” a bit of “Yankee Doodle,” and “Rehearse!”
2. “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue” reprise: President Andrew Johnson’s staff celebrates his impending removal from office.
3. “Forty Acres and a Mule”: Johnson’s staff holds a mock trial while the real trial is being held in the Senate.
4. “Bright and Black”: The staff celebrates the better world that will result from Johnson’s absence.
5. Mrs. Johnson, suffering from consumption, worries about her husband’s fate. Johnson returns, in high spirits, and sends her to bed. Alone with Seena, he confesses he expects to be found guilty. She’s cold to him at first, but he convinces her that he truly has black Americans’ best interests in heart, however the opposition may have made it look. He is saved from removal from office by a single vote.”Hail”: Ulysses Grant is elected.
6. “Duet for One (The First Lady of the Land)”: Grant leaves office and is replaced by Rutherford B. Hayes, following a complicated and controversial vote recount. Grant’s wife, Julia, believes he stole the office, while Hayes’s wife Lucy revels in her new role.
7. The servants roil at the results of the election, with Lud saying that Hayes is “repealing the Civil War” all by himself.
8. “American Dreaming”: Lud, outraged, screams that Lincoln’s advances are being destroyed (this is also not heard in the Cantata).
9. “When We Were Proud”: Lud and Seena, in despair at the state of affairs, leave the White House, Lud’s promise to Abigail echoing sadly in his ears. (This song uses the same melody as the Cantata‘s finale, “To Make Us Proud,” but has entirely different lyrics.)
10. “Hail” reprise: James A. Garfield is elected and assassinated.
11. Chester Alan Arthur assumes the presidency but finds himself fighting powerful forces of corruption.
12. “The Robber-Baron Minstrel Parade” and “Pity the Poor”: These and the two following songs are presented in the form of a minstrel show, complete with tambourines, end men, and blackface. Senator Roscoe Conkling of New York wields much power, and the rich men of America can’t stop singing about their impact over the powerless president.
13. “The Mark of a Man”: Arthur resists the allure of wealth and power, and stands firm in the face of adversity. (In the Cantata, this song is sung following “The Little White Lie.”) He feels good about himself, even if the rest of the country isn’t convinced.
14. “The Red White and Blues”: The robber-baron minstrels, however, are too powerful, and Arthur can’t win against them. He isn’t even nominated for reelection, but escapes the White House with his morals intact.
15. “Hail” reprise: Grover Cleveland and William McKinley are elected, and McKinley is shot.
16. Funeral sequence: The music heard as the overture in the cantata serves as the music playing under the country’s mourning for McKinley.
17. The actors—or their characters—make speeches about how far they and the country has come since 1800. “A fine old house. I’ve seen an enemy try to burn it and fail, one part of the nation try to divide it and fail, one branch of the government try to capture it and fail, and a group of men try to buy it and not fail,” the president actor says… “Until now.” Teddy Roosevelt assumes the presidency.
18. “Rehearse!” reprise: The Roosevelts and the country rejoice in the new opportunities ahead. “1900 is here / Stand up and cheer / It’s gonna be great / 1800 adjourned / The corner is turned / It’s gonna be great / All of the wrongs we never put right / Can have a happy ending in sight / If we will rehearse / Rehearse and don’t stop / And if we do / It’s gonna be great!” Everyone continues rehearsing as the curtain falls.
19. Exit music: Several different variations on “The President Jefferson March.”

"A White House Cantata"

Colossal failure. That’s the summation I generally give 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the Leonard Bernstein-Alan Jay Lerner flop that played a tumultuously chaotic out of town tryout and limped into New York for a 7 performance run. Where did it go wrong? Probably at the very start. Lerner was frustrated over the Watergate scandal of 1972 and collaborated with Bernstein on a concept musical that would examine the first hundred years of the White House, with an emphasis on race relations through that time. Highly ambitious stuff.

Tonight I was at the condensed revision of the piece (which eliminated practically the entire book and focused on the historical musical scenes) called A White House Cantata. The event was presented by the Collegiate Chorale under the artistic direction of Tony award winning actor Roger Rees and marked the NY premiere of this revision, and the first time the score had been heard in NY since it closed May 8, 1976.

The piece calls out for a more theatrical staging rather than the staid classical production it received tonight. The Collegiate Chorale stood and sat upstage in a semi circle, with four chairs and four mike stands (everyone had a binder) downstage. Chills were to be had several times throughout. “Take Care of This House” and “To Make Us Proud” (which reminded me so much of “Make Our Garden Grow”) are stunning pieces. The crescendo of the latter was beyond gorgeous. (“To Make Us Proud” should never have been cut as the finale. It is a stunning summation of liberal patriotism – and that last note is held forever and a day). Hearing those original orchestrations (by Bernstein, Hershy Kay and Sid Ramin) was worth the price of admission alone. Dwayne Croft was amusing as the President, and in stellar voice, if no great shakes as an actor. Emily Pulley‘s “Duet for One” was well executed – she found the comedy where June Anderson failed in the initial presentation/recording ten years ago. And needless to say, the number stopped the show. However – she did not take the high D above C at the end which separates the good First Ladies from the superlative First Ladies (like Patricia Routledge and Judy Kaye, who made the first official recording of the showcase for John McGlinn). Robert Mack and Anita Johnson were fine as Lud and Seena; especially with the infectious “I Love My Wife.” Rees also made an amusing cameo as Admiral Cockburn during the “Sonatina.”

As the show is performed now, with practically nothing left of the book it runs an intermission-less 90 minutes. Basically it’s everything you hear on the disappointingly lifeless album they recorded after the London premiere ten years ago (with Thomas Hampson and June Anderson). But I feel though that by removing the entire book, you’re left with just songs and little context. They tried to make up for that with a historical Powerpoint presentation that lasted the entire performance. They also wisely used supertitles for lyrical clarity. Which brings me to my aforementioned quibble. The piece is eminently theatrical and not classical – it would have fared better with musical theatre actors in the leads. Say for instance, Marc Kudisch and Victoria Clark as the President and First Lady. (Let’s face it, Victoria Clark should just do the Patricia Routledge songbook). There was a lack of cohesion that was made even more obvious with the lack of dialogue or even a narration. Hmm.. That sounds like an idea for the cantata, link the fragmented musical sequences with narrative. That would make more sense than just jumping from one musical piece to another. It could also help the audience care more for Lud and Seena, since they are the fictional characters of the piece, who really come out of nowhere and go nowhere, except to serve as catalysts for racial discussion within the musical numbers. We should have an opportunity to care for them. But let’s face it, it is a problematic show, otherwise it wouldn’t be obsessed by elitists and curious flop fiends.

I am, as many of you are well aware, fascinated to no end by the piece, especially since it’s one of such breadth and scope. And there seems to be a masterwork yearning to break out of the confines of the show in each of its revisions. I found that there was more fun to the piece when it was a Broadway musical and not an oratorio (the piece demands the energy and acting, especially in regards to the satiric numbers). They’ve reinstated the much more reserved original Prelude as opposed to the lively overture that opened the show on Broadway (which is decidedly Bernsteinian) and the framework of “Rehearse” which is infectious and little tidbits, like “The Honor of Your Presence is Requested” which for whatever reason I just love the melodic line. The impeachment scene between President Johnson and Seena is one of the most compelling dialogues that the show had to offer. It was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the servants rarely interact with the President and First Lady in the revision. The fragmentation sort of defeats the author’s original intent, doesn’t it?

The following quote from John Adams’ correspondence with his wife Abigail, written on his second day of occupancy was missing – and it makes for a beauty of a line:

“I pray Heaven to bestow the best of blessings on this House, and all that shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof.”

After the show, there was a highly engaging talkback hosted by Seth Rudetsky with Richard Muenz, Beth Fowler, co-director George Faison and Fowler’s husband John Witham (they met during this production and were married a year later). Also present was Warren Hoge, who covered the show during its preview period in 1976 – and told an amusing anecdote about how he sang “Take Care of This House” to Ronald Reagan at a White House dinner. One of the audience questions was actually a comment from a man who was at the closing and recalled how Routledge received such an ovation for “Duet for One” that she performed an encore. Fowler backed him up saying it was the only time she had ever seen anything like that “They wouldn’t let the show go on.” She also does a rather amusing Pat Routledge impersonation. They mused on what worked and didn’t work. The chaos of rehearsals and being out of town. The confusion of having rehearsed half a scene, only to perform the new first half and the old second half at the evening perform. Yikes. Many mixed reactions on the original work from all onstage. “A wonderful-terrible experience.” They were all thrilled to hear the score again – and Faison summed it up best when he said that Lerner and Bernstein were trying to say too much.

Erik Haagensen, who was cited in the concert notes as having written an article about the musical for Show Music magazine in 1992, has worked on an estate-approved revision of the work that was done in the early 90s. What a shame we can’t get his work out in the open, because I feel that there is a masterwork among this ruin that has yet to surface.

One final quibble. For a show that deals with race it was jarring that the chorale was almost all white, with nary an African American woman in sight, save for Ms. Johnson.

While it was a treat to hear the piece live in NY, A White House Cantata is not and should not be the final word on this score.