Funny Women: Patricia Routledge

One of the joys of Netflix (and possibly its downfall as well) is finding shows streaming in their entirety. One of these shows is the British hit Keeping Up Appearances starring the one and only Patricia Routledge as the one and only Hyacinth Bucket, the irrepressible social climbing snob. While the writing is rarely up to the quality of the cast, the show is often quite funny with Hyacinth getting carried away with herself and foiled by her down-to-earth relatives and friends. One of my favorite episodes is the one where she was desperate to get a part in a local production of The Boy Friend and spontaneously burst into song at the drop of a hat.

Routledge was the subject of an episode of the BBC series Funny Women, which profiled some of the funnier female stars of British stage and television, including Maureen Lipman and Prunella Scales. I relish in every opportunity I have to see Routledge’s film and TV work, as I was not yet born when her stage career was at its peak in the mid-70s and early 80s. Even if the shows themselves failed (as was the case with her Broadway career), critics and audiences fell in love with the vivacious comic soprano. She won a Tony for Darling of the Day, which lasted 31 performances in 1968 (and should be the next Jule Styne score heard at Encores!). The star could have taken the audience home in her pocket after her memorable “Duet for One” in the otherwise loathed 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (which ran only 7 performances).

The half hour episode briefly touches on her whole career, but focuses mostly on her TV work featuring interviews with the Ms. Routledge, Alan Bennett, Michael Frayn, Nigel Hawthorne and TV leading men Clive Swift and Dominic Monaghan. One of the things I especially loved was that people came up to Hawthorne after a gala performance and exclaimed “I never knew Patricia Routledge could sing!” I’ve had the same conversation myself many, many times. (And I would just love to have the entire clip of her singing “I Want to Sing in Opera”). Enjoy.

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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.

Lucky to Be Me: The Music of Leonard Bernstein

When I purchased my ticket to NYCO‘s Lucky to Be Me: The Music of Leonard Bernstein a couple months back, it was for two reasons – Victoria Clark was singing and there would be selections from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I’m a big Bernstein fan and love his other shows, but I revel in the opportunities I’ve had over the past couple of years to hear songs from this lost score performed in NY.

You see, ever since I first heard the 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue score and Patricia Routledge’s performances of “Take Care of This House” and “Duet for One” a few years back, I’ve wanted to hear Clark sing those numbers, as she is the closest we have to a Routledge on Broadway today. When the revised score, under the title A White House Cantata, is performed, opera singers without musical theatre backgrounds have been cast and much of the warmth and humor is gone from the role of the First Lady. So you can imagine my reaction when I opened the concert’s Playbill to see that she would be delivering this particular number in the eleven o’clock spot of the show. I think I summed it up best in my tweet: ‘Victoria Clark. Duet for One. They might to need to take me out of here on a stretcher.’

But I love Leonard Bernstein music in general. His material is interesting, tuneful and memorable. There is a distinctive sound that is his and his alone, with syncopation and variation and a love of difficult time signatures. His music evokes many reactions from me personally, and I find I’m pretty much able to appreciate and often love every piece of music he has written (that I’ve heard so far). Even when the wordsmith fails, the melody is still often compelling. And hearing his music live makes me wish I had been able to witness him conduct in person; his melodies are as impassioned and enthusiastic and full of life as he was on the conducting platform.

The entire concert was a delight from start to finish, with only minor quibbles about the technical aspects and staging. The performance was onstage at the David H. Koch (formerly the New York State) Theater. The songs were performed in front of the show curtain, which I found a strange choice. The chorus spent much of its time singing from either side of the first tier seats and the space limitations while not overly distracting, seemed generally constricting.

The first act was dedicated entirely to Bernstein’s classical repertoire, with selections from Mass, Songfest and a segment from his Kaddish Symphony No. 3. Aside from a brief introduction by Donna Murphy, the first act consisted of opera singers from NYCO’s current production of A Quiet Place as well as the reliable NYCO chorus and children’s chorus. Christopher Feigum sang “To What You Said,” Bernstein’s setting of Walt Whitman’s poem in Songfest, which amused me greatly as the melody has been recycled from the Prelude to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Feigum and Joshua Jeremiah, who sang a lovely “Simple Song” from Mass, were the solo highlights of the first act.

There were some other great singers onstage, unfortunately the acoustics in Koch Theatre made it difficult to hear them over the orchestra. The best sound seemed to come from the front orchestra section, where the children’s chorus lined up to sing – facing the stage – and could be heard clearer and louder than any of the trained opera professionals. Sound remained an issue throughout the evening, though it improved greatly during the Broadway themed second act.

As for act two, it was one showstopper after another from Bernstein’s five Broadway musicals. While the shows themselves run the gamut from classic hit to obscure failure, one thing remains consistent: Bernstein wrote damned good scores for all of them. The audience, which was exceptionally polite during the more solemn first act came to life during this portion. Darius de Haas, Michael Urie and Jeremiah Johnson got it started with a lively reading of “New York, New York” from On the Town which segued directly into a winning “Something’s Coming”  from West Side Story. Kelli O’Hara was the ideal Eileen with “A Little Bit in Love” from Wonderful Town, while Christine Ebersole had a field day as On the Town’s Hildy, with dynamite renditions of “Come Up to My Place” (with Urie) and “I Can Cook Too.” Cheyenne Jackson offered a lovely “Lucky to Be Me,” with the unbelievably gorgeous choral arrangement. Michael Baritone Sidney Outlaw held the audience captive with the most haunting rendition of “Seena” from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue that’s been heard since Gilbert Price originated the part.

Other highlights included Donna Murphy’s hilarious showstopping “One Hundred Easy Ways” from Wonderful Town, while Michael Cerveris countered with a beautifully understated, wistful rendition of “A Quiet Girl” from the same score. Clark and O’Hara danced and trilled their way through the comic duet “We Are Women” written for the original London production of Candide.  The high point of the evening was the combination of “Tonight” (sung by Jackson & O’Hara) with the “Quintet” which featured Cerveris as Riff and our Murphy as Anita. It was an electrifying performance that brought about one of the largest audience responses of the evening.

The finale packed a one-two punch: Ebersole, Murphy, Jackson and Cerveris performed the plaintive “Some Other Time” from On the Town. Then Armstrong and Jakubiak returned to lead “Make Our Garden Grow,” the finale of Candide. There is a section in the song at its climax where the orchestra cuts out while the choral group is singing in 8 parts; its effect is almost indescribable. It is one of the most spine-tingling experiences a person can have as an audience member and a perfect way to cap off the evening.

As for “Duet for One (The First Lady of the Land),” I relish every opportunity I have to hear it. It’s a challenging nine minute number that involves more than just the woman at its center and a successful performance hinges on mastering its deliberately schizophrenic nature. It was probably the starriest version I’ve ever seen with Jackson standing in for Rutherford B. Hayes and Michael Cerveris delivering the oath of office. Clark was a wonder, clearly having a field day with the material. The staging was far more cumbersome than it needed to be, but Clark was a delight. I want to hear her perform it again and again.

The Bernstein estate should seriously reconsider the withdrawal of the 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue score and create a new recording, akin to John McGlinn’s landmark reconstruction of Show Boat. While the show suffered an embarrassing failure in 1976, the score contains some dazzling material, including some truly great music left out of the concert revision, A White House Cantata. I had conversations with some concertgoers after the show and they asked me how I knew this score. They were astonished from the selections they heard and seemed genuinely interested in hearing more. “What a shame they didn’t record a cast album!” The Cantata does have a recording, but its staid and rather boring. Mr. Outlaw and Ms. Clark proved last night that the score deserves better. In the unlikely event the score ever does get a full recording, Clark should be first in line to play the First Ladies.

“1600 Pennsylvania Avenue,” A Concept

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue - Patricia Routledge, Ken Howard & Co.

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue - Hirschfeld

“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.

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.”

"Duet for One (The First Lady of the Land)" – 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue opened May 4, 1976 on Broadway at the former Mark Hellinger Theatre following a tumultuous out of town period in both Philadelphia and Washington DC. The musical, starring Ken Howard, Patricia Routledge and Gilbert Price, was met with critical derision and subsequently closed four days later, after a total of 13 previews and 7 performances in NY.

The show was the first and only collaboration between Leonard Bernstein and Alan Jay Lerner. In spite of the tepid response by both audiences and critics, this particular song caught the audience’s attention in the middle of the second act. Patricia Routledge starred as First Ladies from 1800-1900; in this particular song she was both outgoing Julia Grant and incoming Lucy Hayes at the 1877 inauguration of Rutherford B. Hayes. The comic soprano delineated the two characters with the flip of a trick, double-sided wig and change in voice. The nine minute tour-de-force received thunderous applause, and even some lengthy mid-show standing ovations; an incredible feat considering the show’s reception.

This is from the Broadway opening night performance, at which the audience cheered for a full minute and eight seconds (the ovation has been trimmed on this particular recording). It’s remarkable to hear the audience, which up until this point had been mostly polite in its applause, come alive in this one song. There is a slow build to total euphoria which is almost as fascinating to hear as the actual performance.

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Patricia Routledge Talks "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue"

Upon the premiere of A White House Cantata in 1997, Humphrey Burton wrote a detailed feature on the history of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue called “The House That Alan and Leonard Built,” for July 5, 1997 issue of the British newspaper “The Independent.” The piece talks about the show’s short-lived chaos from Philadelphia to New York. For the article, Burton talked with original star Patricia Routledge about her experience on the show and she offered these words:

Despite the heartache and the humiliation, the celebrated actress and comedienne Patricia Routledge says she wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to work with Bernstein for worlds. “Lenny gave you his respect if you knew your job. Wonderful to work with. Inspiring. But he was saddled with genius and genius can be monstrous. It was a heart-breaking tragedy, really. When we opened in Philly it was an impasse of the worst kind; nobody would cut a line of dialogue or a note of music. Basically you cannot write a musical about a house. A friend said it was like watching a great prehistoric animal lumbering across the stage but there were moments of dazzling light… When it really came to life was when the human element was allowed to emerge. `Take Care of This House’, for example, that’s a beautiful lyrical piece [sung by Mrs Abigail Adams, the first incumbent first lady]. And in the second act, there’s an absolutely genius number called `Duet for One’ – two first ladies, the incumbent Julia Grant and the incoming Lucy Hayes, waiting for the presidential election result, a wonderful cliff- hanger presented in Busby Berkeley fashion, surrounded by lots of ladies with parasols.”

"A Jubilant Song" at Carnegie Hall

On March 30, 2008 I was lucky enough to be in the audience for the New York premiere of A White House Cantata, the concert revision of Bernstein-Lerner’s 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, a fast failure in 1976. The Collegiate Chorale, who was responsible for that premiere, held a gala concert called “A Jubilant Song” last night at Carnegie Hall. I was more than thrilled to go when invited, especially when I learned that they would be performing excerpts from 1600/Cantata. Now while I have my quibbles with the Cantata and the use of opera singers instead of more qualified musical theatre performers in the lead roles, it’s always a pleasure to hear selections from this exceptionally underrated, often brilliant score.

Hosted by Tony-winning actor Roger Rees, the evening was the gala inaugural concert to introduce the new music director James Bagwell, who is assuming the mantle of conductor after the unexpected death of Robert Bass. The Collegiate Chorale was first established in 1941 by Robert Shaw and has been a staple of classical repertoire in NY ever since, emphasizing choral tradition and American music but also presenting operatic works.

While there many guest vocalists, the first segment of the evening was strictly about the Chorale. The evening started with performances of Giovanni Gabrieli’s “In ecclesiis,” Alexander Kopylov’s “Svete Tihiy” and an arrangement of the spiritual “Set Down Servant.” This led into Norman Dello Joio’s “A Jubilant Song” which may be one of the most difficult choral pieces I have ever heard with intricate melodic lines and rhythms; I can only imagine what the sheet music for this piece must look like.

With the exception of Daniel Mobbs as the President, the principal singers of A White House Cantata were on hand to reprise their work from the 2008 concert performance. Mobbs was George Washington in “On Ten Square Miles by the Potomac River,” Soprano Emily Pulley sang a tender “Take Care of this House” with Kalif Omari Jones while “Anita Johnson and Robert Mack performed the infectious “Lud’s Wedding.” Pulley, in a tremendous Carnegie Hall debut, recreated her colorful “Duet for One” to the wild enthusiasm of the audience. While she’s no Patricia Routledge (who is, really?), she understands the schizophrenic comedy better than other opera singers who have taken on the part in presentations of A White House Cantata (namely Nancy Gustafson and June Anderson). The segment ended with a full-throated rendition of “To Make Us Proud,” originally cut in Philadelphia but reinstated by the Cantata. The song echos other anthems, specifically Bernstein’s own “Make Our Garden Grow.”

One of the great joys of the entire evening was hearing this music performed, not only in such a perfect performance space as Carnegie Hall, but also to hear simply pure acoustic sound. Except for Rees’ commentary, the entire evening was without amplification. Though I’ve had a considerable classical background, I haven’t gone to many concerts or to the opera as much as I’d like in recent years. Every time I do; however, I marvel at the extreme beauty of hearing music performed with some sort of electronic filter. Even some of our loveliest musicals on Broadway are miked to the hilt, with an emphasis on loud. It was especially evident how thrilling to hear selections from a score I love, with its complete original orchestration intact. 160 voices singing “To Make Us Proud,” and holding out that last note for what must be glorious eternity. You can’t ask for anything more stirring or moving.

Coloratura soprano Erin Morley, who recently made her debut at the Metropolitan Opera brought the concert to a crashing halt with an exquisite rendering of “O beau pays” from Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots. Morley, dressed to the nines and with the poise of a true star, stunned the crowd into an extended ovation – the largest of the evening – with her gorgeous sound and flawless technique. I look forward to following the singer’s career, as I’m sure there is nothing but good things awaiting this diva on the rise.

The evening built to its climax with a performance of Beethoven’s “Choral Fantasy, Op. 80” Acclaimed pianist Jenny Lin proved her virtuosity and flawless proficiency with the lead-in piano solo. For the finale, Morley and tenor Salvatore Licitra were to lead the famed “Brindisi” from La Traviata; however, an emergency kept Licitra in Switzerland last evening so instead they divided up the parts between the various soloists. While they urged the audience to join in on the chorus, most of us were content to just sit back and enjoy the performers onstage.

I’m even more excited for the Collegiate Chorale’s next concert: Ricky Ian Gordon and Michael Korie’s The Grapes of Wrath will be presented at Carnegie Hall on March 22, 2010. This marks the world premiere of a two-act concert version of the ambitious contemporary opera. Jane Fonda, Nathan Gunn, Victoria Clark, Steven Pasquale and Christine Ebersole are among the folks participating.

The world is small and funny and fine. Last night, my high school freshman English teacher, Mrs. Fran Schulz, was also at the Chorale gala. Of all the teachers I have had, she ranks as the one who has made the most impression on me, and I continue to maintain a remarkable friendship. Throughout my freshman year, she encouraged my interest in film and theatre, often handing me a package of films and performances she felt I needed to see every Friday. With a personality akin to Mame, Fran is the only teacher I’ve ever had who entered the classroom with a quality not unlike star presence. I’ve been imbued with her enthusiasm for literature and theatre, and she has always been supportive of me as a writer and performer. An avid theatregoer, she has regaled me with stories of seeing every major revival of My Fair Lady in New York and London, Camelot with Richard Burton and again with his understudy John Cullum. She also has seen every major star turn by Angela Lansbury since the original Mame. I could go on for hours. She continues to encourage and advise me, even though I haven’t been her student in 12 years. I can only hope that you’ve had a teacher like her at some point in your life.

"Like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic…"

Whole songs and chunks of dialogue disappeared and new material had to be learned. Sets and costumes changed. “It was Dunkerque,” recalls [Patricia] Routledge. “I never knew how I would get to the end of the show. Sometimes I didn’t know which way I was facing.” Adds [Ken] Howard: “I couldn’t sleep or eat. I found it hard to focus my mind on what I was doing onstage. I became a zombie, an automaton.” But, says Howard, the endless changes that were made in the show were only “like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.”

– The two stars of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on the chaos of the experience in an informative article documenting the show’s failure from the May 31, 1976 edition of Time Magazine.