We often think about our Angie or Patti (or Elaine or Sheila or Judy, et al), but here’s another solid interpretation of the great Mrs. L. offered by one of the premiere interpreters of Sondheim in the London theatre scene, Julia McKenzie. McKenzie was a lead in Side By Side By Sondheim, a fetching Sally in the London premiere of Follies in 1987 and was the Witch in the original London cast of Follies. She was also the person behind the early 90s revue, a follow-up of sorts to Side By Side called Putting it Together. She won the Olivier award for her performance in the RNT revival of Sweeney Todd and here the awards telecast performance, including the “The Ballad of Sweeney Todd, followed by her rendition of “The Worst Pies in London.”
Tag: Stephen Sondheim
Quote of the Day
“It’s finishing the hat. You get completely entranced. The world disappears and you’re with your own imagination, and it’s really fun,” he says. “Starting the hat is hard. Finishing the hat is fun.”
– Stephen Sondheim on why he hasn’t retired and remains excited about work. Excerpted from Jeremy McCarter’s profile on the composer in this week’s New York Magazine.
Sondheim Responds
Stephen Sondheim responds to Susan Elliot’s New York Times piece about Broadway orchestrations in a letter to the editor:
Orchestrations: Who Writes the Songs?
Re “Off the Stage, What’s Behind the Music” by Susan Elliott [Aug. 17]:
Ms. Elliott, in her piece on Broadway orchestrators, claims that Robert Russell Bennett was responsible for the “shifting harmonies and alternating rhythms” (whatever the latter term means) of Richard Rodgers’s score for “South Pacific.”
I can assure you this is not so, and the implication that orchestrators routinely do it is misleading. True, many composers of musicals can neither read nor write music and merely hum their tunes or pound them out on the piano, forcing orchestrators to supply everything from chords to rhythms, but some of us spend long hours working out harmonies and contrapuntal lines, and Rodgers was one of them, as his distinctive harmonic styles — one for Hart, one for Hammerstein — prove.
For those who, like me, write detailed piano copy, the orchestrator’s chief task is to give the dry monochromatic texture of the piano color and atmosphere, which indeed may involve adding additional lines, but the notion that orchestrators do much of the composing for composers who know what they’re doing is inaccurate.
Like everybody else, as Ms. Elliott reports, I deplore the downsizing of orchestras, but I understand the economics. If I had thought for one minute that Roundabout, a nonprofit company, could afford 11 players for the revival of “Sunday in the Park With George,” I’d have asked for them. After reading in Ms. Elliott’s article that Todd Haimes, the company’s artistic director, would have given them to me, I’ll know better the next time we work together (which, I hasten to add, I hope will be soon).
As for Jason Carr, who won the Drama Desk Award for his deft reduction of Michael Starobin’s thrilling 11-player orchestration to an ensemble of five, I’m happy for him, but the atmosphere and most of the extra instrumental lines and decorations were still Michael’s. Six-elevenths of the award, at the very least, belong to him.
Stephen Sondheim
New York
The writer wrote the music and lyrics for “Sunday in the Park With George.”
"Bounce" retitled "Road Show"
The little Sondheim musical that could, Bounce, is being resurrected in a yet another revision that will play the Public Theatre fall under the title Road Show (the book is from the pen of John Weidman). The show (which is on its fourth title; early workshops include Wise Guys and Gold!) is now under the direction of Tony-winner John Doyle and will star Sondheim regulars Michael Cerveris (Assassins, Sweeney Todd) and Alexander Gemignani (Assassins, Sweeney Todd, Sunday in the Park With George). Tickets go onsale to the general public on October 12, with a first preview date set for October 28 and an opening night of November 18. The show will run at the Public’s Newman Theatre through December 28.
In an exclusive commentary with Playbill.com, Mr. Sondheim explains the dramaturgical reasons behind the new title. It sounds very interesting to hear the gestation process of this long-in-development musical. It’s also great that New York will be getting its first fully original Sondheim score in 14 years.
"Don’t Touch the Coat…"
Pacific Overtures is one of the most fascinating of Stephen Sondheim’s musicals. A concept musical about the westernization of imperial Japan in the 19th century, and its impact on Japanese culture and traditions is not your typical musical. Sondheim studied Eastern music for months, director Hal Prince adapted the styles of Kabuki theatre for the production in its design and staging. The results are mesmerizing. The show featured an almost all-male cast that included Mako, Yuki Shimodo (the original Ito in Auntie Mame!), Sab Shimino, Alvin Ing (who reprised his role for Roundabout) and Gedde Watanabe (later part of Sixteen Candles? Anyone?). The show opened in 1976 at the Winter Garden, where it ran for 193 performances. I saw the Roundabout revival, starring B.D. Wong. While I didn’t particularly care for that production on the whole, I was able to look past what I disliked to admire the brilliance in the writing of Sondheim and librettist John Weidman.
While the show boasts the ever-brilliant favorite of Sondheim, “Someone in a Tree,” I would have to admit that “Please, Hello” is my personal favorite song in the entire score. It’s mammoth 9 minute act two opener in which America, Britain, Holland, France and Russia are vying for detente with Japan. It’s a marvel of sophistication, historical accuracy, pastiche (each country is represented by a native musical style of the period) and vocal arrangement. The number was the highlight of the revival, bringing the show to a halt.
The original production was taped for broadcast on Japanese television, but has never been aired in the US. (Calling PBS!! Or Image Home Entertainment!)
Here is the original cast performing “Please, Hello.” Enjoy.
Where in the World Was Stephen Joshua Sondheim?
The man of the hour was notably absent during the telecast in which he received a lifetime achievement Tony. Instead, Mandy Patinkin showed up in Steve’s beard and proceeded to frighten all the kiddies (and read a very classy and gracious letter that cited all of his book writers through the years).
Well, according to Michael Riedel,
“Sondheim wasn’t at the Tonys because he was traipsing through Europe.
I hear he found out about the award only when it was announced in the press. Nobody from the Tonys bothered to tell him beforehand, so he didn’t change his travel plans. “
And they’re off…
The 2008 Antoinette Perry (remember her?) Award nominations were announced this morning. I shall spare you a complete listing, but will touch on a few talking points. In the Heights (13 noms? not bad…), Passing Strange (7) and Xanadu (4) seemed the most likely to receive nominations from the comittee, but I think most people were expecting the fourth slot to go to A Catered Affair before it went to Cry-Baby, a show that has received unanimous pans from everyone I know who’s seen it. However, it’s practically no surprise that the critically eviscerated juggernauts Young Frankenstein and The Little Mermaid didn’t get much love. (Disclaimer, I’ve not seen a single new musical this season). In terms of Best Play, August was a no-brainer there, but I was also quite pleased to see The 39 Steps get recognition as well. Also, was it absolutely obligatory that the Tony committee had to give out four nominations for Best Musical Revival? It’s asinine to think that Grease is anywhere near the other three superlative revivals. I’ve seen the latter three, but will not under any circumstances venture towards Grease. I even turned down a free ticket to that too. Another minor quibble: since when is it Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific? (However that’s nothing in comparison to The New Mel Brooks Musical Young Frankenstein. What the hell…?)
Let’s hear it for Deanna Dunagan, Amy Morton and Rondi Reed, the three superlative Steppenwolfe actresses of August: Osage County in three landmark performances that are helping this play’s reputation as the must-see of the season. Other nominated performances that I’ve seen and am thrilled for: Patti Lupone, Laura Benanti and Boyd Gaines in Gypsy; Paulo Szot, Kelli O’Hara and Loretta Able-Sayres (who is such an unbelievably adorable person, I almost can’t stand it) in South Pacific (not Danny Burstein though, I feel that Matthew Morrison deserved his slot); Daniel Evans and Jenna Russell in Sunday in the Park With George; S. Epatha Merkerson in Come Back, Little Sheba. (I was secretly hoping that they’d just give an award to Harriet Harris for her triumphant apartment trashing in Old Acquaintance, it’s up there with the act two finale of August as one of my favorite moments in a play this season). There was no Tony love at all for the revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which scored zero nominations. Also, Kevin Kline didn’t make the final cut for Cyrano de Bergerac.
Let it also be known that Robert Russell Bennett, quite possibly the greatest orchestrator in the history of the American musical, is getting a posthumous Tony award for his contributions. A recipient of a special 1957 award, I’m mildly curious as to why (other than the fact that his spectacular South Pacific, which is one of the best of the best in terms of orchestrations, is currently a smash-hit revival) they felt the need to give him another, not to mention waiting until 27 years after he died to do it. He is best represented in an abbreviated list of his original orchestrations: Show Boat, Of Thee I Sing, Anything Goes, Oklahoma!, Annie Get Your Gun, Finian’s Rainbow, Kiss Me Kate, The King and I, My Fair Lady, Bells Are Ringing, Juno, The Sound of Music, Camelot, The Girl Who Came to Supper and On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (to name only a few). Not too shabby, huh?
Oh, and Sondheim’s getting one too for the whole “Lifetime Achievement” thing. 😉
I guess we’ll see what’s what on 6/15. Not that the Tony’s play politics or award commercial shows based on whether or not they will tour. Hmmm? What’s that you say? They do? Fiddlesticks! (Yeah, let’s take another look at the Best Musical Cry-Baby).
The Theatre World Award winners will be announced on 5/15. I’m much more excited about what will happen there.
"The Ecdysiast Play"
Oh you know the one I mean. Where crazed patrons choke one another. Where vents fall from the ceiling and light bulbs explode. Oh, and curtains come down on Laura Benanti. Yes. It’s the latest revival of Gypsy. It’s a little strange for me since it’s the first time I’ve seen a second production of a show on Broadway (especially in so short a lapse between). Bernadette Peters. Remember her? Well, anyway, Gypsy is welcome back on the Rialto anytime, as far as I’m concerned. And tonight was one of those electric nights where everything aligned for that certain 5’2″ bundle of dynamite, Ms. Patti LuPone in what early ads were referring to “the role she was born to play.” They were not wrong.
Patti came.
Patti saw.
Patti conquered.
Taking the early mold of her previous experiences with the musical, both at the Ravinia Festival in ’06 (the start of the journey that culminates in her opening last night) and the City Center presentation last summer, LuPone has refined her character with the precision of a diamond cutter. Rose is a determined mother of two very lovely young girls that she thrusts into the throes of show business in an effort to assuage her own unfulfilled ambitions. It just screams musical comedy, no? Well, anyway. It’s genius. The score. The orchestrations (and that overture. yowza!) The book. It’s almost fool-proof (so why did you tamper with it, Mr. Laurents?) You follow through Rose, the character as she goes from unmitigated determination (“Some People”) through desperation when she uses Louise in an effort to mask her emotional scarring and fear of failure (“Everything’s Coming Up Roses”) through her eventual breakdown when confronted with the reality that both show business and daughters have passed her by (her defeat: “Rose’s Turn”). Might I add, Patti’s diction was almost too perfect (not a problem, just an observation) and her vocals were the best I’ve ever heard live. Just for the record.
From Mr. Brantley, who was decidedly mixed this summer:
“When Ms. LuPone delivers “Rose’s Turn,” she’s building a bridge for an audience to walk right into one woman’s nervous breakdown. There is no separation at all between song and character, which is what happens in those uncommon moments when musicals reach upward to achieve their ideal reasons to be. This Gypsy spends much of its time in such intoxicating air.”
Nuance, chemistry and impressively layered acting abounds. From Patti. From Laura. From Boyd. From Leigh Ann. From Nemora. From Alison. From Tony. All of whom are superlative in their roles. (For my money, Laura, Boyd and Tony are definitive in theirs). As for the ending, I’m not really sure what I think. I guess if you tamper with what has been for years, you’re bound to notice. But on the flip side, the staging of the new ending is a bit more naturalistic and honed into the unresolved rift between mother and daughters. It’s not really going to make or break the experience. That happened five minutes before.
Did I mention, it was opening night? Yep. Noah and I sat in the balcony behind a deluded crone and her rude mother. One insisted on leaning forward the entire show and the other chimed in with an extensive crinkling of a candy wrapper, for literally the entire show; except when she leaned forward. That group clearly had no idea what was going on and looked out of water when the crowd continually went to pieces, especially the overwhelming standing ovation received at the end of the “Turn.” Thankfully it didn’t detract too much from the overall experience. Kari and Sarah were also among the first nighters reveling in what was a thrilling experience. Post show, we had dinner at Angus McIndoe’s. As Kari and I sat waiting like wallflowers for Noah and Sarah while they kibbitzed, I spotted none other than Mr. Stephen Sondheim at the bar. Kari and I immediately made our way over; not to speak with him make no mistake, but to sit near at the bar like the total theatre geeks we became in about, oh I don’t know, 3 seconds. (Kari surreptitiously snapped a photo with her iphone – and no one was the wiser. And she was literally trembling from her proximity to musical theatre’s living deity). Dinner was fantastic. The booze was fantastic – and I drank almost half a bottle of water – not a Poland Spring or Fiji, no I guzzled one the size of a large merlot bottle – as we made our way out. Pity it wasn’t vodka or gin. I might have had another act to my evening.
Those sighted: Angela Lansbury, Mandy Patinkin, Laura Linney (flawless with little to no makeup), Martha Plimpton, Corky from Life Goes On, Thomas Meehan, John Weidman. Others I probably had no clue were in the house. They even had a red carpet and an official opening night sticker on the playbill.
Oh, and after her curtain call, Patti LuPone lay fully prostrate onstage to her cast. It was that kind of event. Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents got their props. And Sondheim gave a shout out to the late Jule Styne. (Class act). Though it appears Laurents gave Patti notes as they exited the stage…
Hey guys. Gypsy is back on Broadway. What the hell are you doing reading my blog? GET TICKETS AND GO NOW!!!!
‘What the eye arranges is what is beautiful…"
It took me years to warm up to Sunday in the Park with George. There I admit it; in fact the first time I saw the taping of the original Broadway production, aside from Bernadette Peters and the end of the first act, I was bored. The jaunty atonal score was initially unmemorable; leaving little to no impression on me. Plus, I have never been a big fan of Mandy Patinkin, so that didn’t help any.
However, the more I matured, the more I kept pushing myself back to the score; I always felt like I was missing something important about it; and was intrigued. It took years of listening, and several attempts at viewing the production; reading about it plus reading the libretto that started the thawing process. Not that every musical should have that laborious nature (indeed, while I have come to respect and admire Passion, I will never love it).
Anyway, the clincher was in 2004 when I was asked to work on my college’s production as dramaturge. I immersed myself in the information around the show: I read all I could on Sondheim and Sunday from varying texts and sources. Reviews, biographies, intricate analyses, you name it. I also auditioned for the show, merely for fun, since I knew that as an outsider who wasn’t a major in the theatre department, I would never be seriously considered for any roles. My audition went very well. I sang the patter section of “It Would Have Been Wonderful” and the last A section of “Love Can’t Happen” (in the show key, to toot my own horn) and did a Nicky Silver monologue. It went much better than I (and I think they) expected. I got a callback. Well, that didn’t go very well. (The confidence I had at the initial audition was thoroughly depleted when met by the condescending glares of the other actors). And I wasn’t cast. So we set about working on the show; I was rarely utilized by the cast and crew for questions throughout the rehearsal period, but was ready to be a source if necessary.
Then I got put into the show (the person playing “Man with Bicycle” and “Man on Shore” opted not to accept his part); mostly to add my voice to the choral numbers, an extra person to hit the high G’s in “Sunday.” However, getting involved in table work and talking about the productions; and even seeing things in the Lincoln Center TOFT archive (which included the original Playwrights Horizons workshop), my eyes were opened to the artistic genius at work. Anyway, I’ve experienced this feeling of protectiveness whenever I’ve been involved with a show where I develop a sort of unconditional love for the work; even if it be a red-headed step child of the theatre.
I came to love Sunday in the Park with George.
And I saw it live as an audience member for the first time last night at the first preview of the Broadway revival playing at Studio 54. It’s an import of the British production that played the Menier Chocolate Factory in 2006 and contains the Olivier-winning stars of that production; Daniel Evans and Jenna Russell (the latter making her Broadway debut). Supporting the two superlative stars are the superb Broadway veterans Michael Cumpsty, Jessica Molaskey, Anne L. Nathan, Ed Dixon and the delightful Mary Beth Peil.
The production affected me in many ways. I was mesmerized by the animation of the scenic design which cleverly altered itself to show a flash of a figure of the painting here and there or even the subtle encroachment of autumn during “Beautiful.” (They even used the animated projections for the multiple George sequence in “Putting it Together”). The twilight effect of the streetlamps on La Grand Jatte 1984 during “Lesson #8 was a sheer marvel of subtlety and of scenography complementing the onstage action.
Evans is particularly stunning as George. Though Mandy has his teeth firmly embedded into the role (which was also aided by the original Broadway cast recording being the only album of the score for 22 years), for the first time I felt I understood George. I saw an artist so dedicated to his work and so close to a breakthrough that he shuns the world and eventually loses the great love of his life as a result. His George wasn’t a cryptic brooding mess of nerves; there was a heart to Evans’ George that took on new and refreshing dynamics, especially driving home “Finishing the Hat” (which received the Peter Filichia applause: the audience response was huge; it started to dissipate only to re-emerge louder and more pronounced than before). The song “Beautiful” is one of the most quietly poignant moments Mr. Sondheim has created; you have juxtaposing opinions of perspective and change between George and his somewhat senile mother. George finds such promise in change; “Pretty is what changes…” while nostalgia and a dislike of change gets the best of her “How I long for the old view.” It’s a moment of remarkable depth; especially hearing George find beauty in all that he sees, whether it be old or new, and his commitment to capturing it as an artist. Russell founds ways of both reinventing Dot and yet at times, coming so close to reminding me of Bernadette. She’s beautiful, she gets the laughs and while she may not be as warm as the famed originator of the part, she does manage to give Dot a loving heart. She scored especially well as Marie in the second act with a devastating “Children and Art.”
What was most surprising was the amount of polish since it was their first performance in front of an audience. The lighting cues are many (the tech rehearsal must have been hell) and so much of the production revolves around the lighting and projections for its full effect. While there could be a little tightening in spots (particularly “Putting it Together” which has always been too long), they have a rich foundation on which they will continue to grow throughout the run.
Speaking of quibbles… the pit. Five pieces, are you kidding me? Why don’t you just get Dick Van Dyke to reprise his one-man band Bert from Mary Poppins and save even more money. The loss of the French horn is the most mournful in the instrumentation; the sax substitute is lackluster. This is not Sunday in the Park with Kenny G. Others had quibbled with the use of British accents in the first act, but I was strangely okay with that; which also got me wondering how well the show would translate to French… Another weak spot: Alexander Gemignani is rather annoying onstage. Didn’t love him in Sweeney Todd and didn’t care for him here as the Boatman.
The show has always been plagued by its second act which is necessary to the authors’ intent, but doesn’t live up to the magic of the first (one review of the original production said act one was the best new musical in town; act two the worst). I have never seen the problematic second act run as smoothly and enjoyably as it did last night. Moment to moment, I was continually impressed; particularly the final 20-30 minutes; rich are the songs “Children and Art” (the lyrics in this song alone are enough to warrant its Pulitzer Prize win, followed by “Lesson #8” and the long-awaited musical release in “Move On” (which no doubt would have brought the house in on itself had it not been directed to move directly into dialogue and leave us without the opportunity to applaud; I’ll be quicker next time). It was ethereal.
The moment that has haunted me through the day the most and will likely continue to do so for a long time was the final moment of the show. There is the reprise of the “Sunday” anthem with 1984 George connecting with Dot and the characters of the painting. In the moment following the exit of the characters from the stage, the projections have reversed themselves and gone back to a pure white stage.
George reads: “White. A blank page or canvas. His favorite. So many possibilities…”
My breath was drawn and my heart exploded with emotion when he turned upstage and made his breakthrough; gasping with rapture and openness at the white canvas that lay ahead for him as an artist. The words that I have just written can’t even begin to explain just how stunning this final flourish was as the lights went out. All I know is that it will stay with me always.
The ovation was extraordinary. As the house lights came up, the audience only increased its roar of approval; and it was clear no one was going anywhere until the cast came out one more time, which they did. Both Evans and Russell were visibly overwhelmed by the reception. I love impromptu moments like that.
Not everyone I was with shared my enthusiastic view, but Sondheim interpretations generally tend to polarize than unite. It’s the nature of the beast and that’s all right with me. It was just enough to share the night with a slew of classy friends and acquaintances.
I’m already going back. It can’t be soon enough for me.
Side note: Miles said observed that Sunday is the MILF of musicals; it gets better with age. Not the classiest observation I’ve heard, but he’s actually not far from the truth (though in his favor, he also referred to it as a fine wine, but I found this reference more amusing). Sweeney Todd is the masterpiece, Follies the cult favorite, and Pacific Overtures the most intriguing; Sunday in the Park With George is probably Sondheim’s most fascinating score.
Second side note: I apparently bear a striking resemblance to Georges Seurat (at least the onstage version) as was pointed out to me by two strangers in the lobby at intermission.