As it was at the overture and shall be at the exit music, bliss without end. Amen.

Theatre Aficionado at Large

Tag: Gypsy

A Decade in Review

As we approach the end of 2010 as well as the first decade of the 21st century (There’s no such thing as Year 0 in our calendar), I’ve been looking back on the ten years of theatregoing I have had and have compiled a list of some favorite moments:

January 9, 2001 - It was my third Broadway show, but the sublime revival of Kiss Me Kate was the first show in NY that made me feel as though I were ten feet in the air. Stylish, elegant and irrepressibly funny, I went with my high school AP English classes (one section was reading The Taming of the Shrew). Starring Brian Stokes Mitchell and Marin Mazzie (whom I adored from the original cast recordings of Ragtime), the revival (at the Martin Beck). I can remember every detail. We gathered after school, caught a train and headed right to TKTS (my first time at the booth) then dinner at TGI Fridays. I sat with my favorite English teacher, Fran Schulz, and we just laughed and laughed. We were breathless by intermission and practically needed oxygen by the end of act two. It’s become the standard by which I judge all musical comedy revivals. The London company was preserved for PBS telecast and DVD, but that incarnation doesn’t live up to my memories of this enchanted evening.

July 9, 2002 – Noises Off! I didn’t think I’d see the revival, which had recently won a Tony Award for featured actress Katie Finneran. However, while roaming the local mall on school break with a friend, I saw there was a contest for free tickets to the production. For the hell of it, I just put my name on the piece of paper and tossed it into this vat of thousands of slips. You can imagine my surprise when I got a phone call telling me how to arrange my free tickets. Knowing that the revival’s original cast would be departing, I arranged for the final week of their run. I’m glad I did; it was one of the most hilarious productions I’ve ever seen. It was my first time seeing Patti LuPone, Faith Prince, Richard Easton and T.R. Knight onstage. On top of it, it was also the first time I stage-doored a production and as a result I fell in love with Katie Finneran, who showed me great personal kindness and graciousness in a brief moment. Noises Off was the funniest production I’d seen until The Norman Conquests in 2009.

November 27, 2003 – Barbara Cook Sings Mostly Sondheim. I’ve long been a huge admirer but had never seen her perform live. Then I received word that she’d be in my very town while I was on Thanksgiving break. I had the CD of the 2001 Carnegie Hall concert, which featured Malcolm Gets. However, in Peekskill, it was just Barbara and her three man band. I sat in third row center and just basked in the performance. Her nuance with the lyrics, her warmth and humor, the depth of her feeling as she delved into the lyrics. The pinnacle, though, was hearing Cook sing “Ice Cream” her trademark number from She Loves Me. In the original key, no less. Chalk that one up to musical theatre zen.

May 27, 2004. I’ve talked about this day before, as it remains one of the most important of my life. Without the final performance of Gypsy with Bernadette, I wouldn’t have such marvelous friends like Noah and SarahB (and the extended family as a result). It was my first time at a Broadway closing (I’ve now done 14) and it was the first time I ever went backstage at a Broadway house. It was also the first time I saw Bernadette onstage, and in spite of what you see in print these days, her performance was well received by critics and audiences alike. And she should have won the damn Tony.

April 18, 2005. My first opening night. The Light in the Piazza at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre. (To date I have done 7 opening nights). It was the start of an obsession with a superlative musical, which I ended up seeing 12 times throughout its run. There have been many other important theatregoing experiences of my life, but none that have been this magical. Victoria Clark’s performance as Margaret Johnson was one for the ages, and Kelli O’Hara was equally sublime as her daughter. Adam Guettel’s score was one of the best of the decade and it’s a shame we haven’t yet heard anything new from this brilliant composer/lyricist.

December 4, 2007 – August: Osage County opening night at the Imperial. I’d never gotten more dressed up or cared more about my appearance than this particular opening, as I was a guest of Noah. Because of the union strike, the opening had been delayed and by my great good fortune I was allowed to attend. It was a lot of fun standing in the lobby with Sarah, Kari and Sally people watching people as the stars made their entrance into the lobby. But what was even more amusing was the fact that there were celebrities who were there because they just had tickets for that performance – and celebrities who brought celebrity friends as plus-ones. But nothing prepared me for the searing power of Tracy Letts’ play with a dynamite cast including Deanna Dunagan, Amy Morton and Rondi Reed. After the second act, I was in need of air. Saw this three and a half hour play 7 times.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007. My first post-Tony performance. We were in attendance after Christine Ebersole and Mary Louise Wilson won Tonys for their brilliant work on Grey Gardens. I had seen and loved the show earlier in its Broadway run, but the audience at this show made it something to behold. The applause at the top of the show threw the actresses off of the pre-recorded track (charmingly saved by Wilson) and Ebersole received the only second act standing ovation I’ve ever seen upon her entrance as Little Edie just before stopping the show with “The Revolutionary Costume for Today.”

March 27, 2008 & April 4, 2008. Two glorious revivals of American musical classics opened: Gypsy at the St. James Theatre, South Pacific at the Vivian Beaumont. I was in attendance for both and just adored both productions. I’m of the school that loved both Bernadette and Patti, so comparisons are a moot point there. However, this second revival was aided considerably by the sublime Tony-winning performances of Laura Benanti and Boyd Gaines. Over at Lincoln Center, Bart Sher directed what is probably the best production of a musical I’ve ever seen. Superbly cast, thrillingly sung and acted – and that orchestra of 30. I couldn’t ask for a better week at the theatre (interspersed between the two were favorite flops Juno and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue/A White House Cantata).

May 11, 2008. Two-fold. Brunch at Joe Allen’s and No No Nanette at City Center Encores. Each in itself was an event worth rejoicing, but the combination made it a day for the ages. It was the first gathering of the Bloggers Who Brunch (as I like to call our gatherings). At that point, I had only been blogging for seven months and it was the first time I was aware that there were other people whom I didn’t know that were reading what I had to write! It was the start of many wonderful friendships that I continue to cherish wholeheartedly. The afternoon was spent SarahB in my first visit to the TLC before we took in the fabulous production of Nanette, which is still the best of the best when it comes to the Encores productions I’ve seen – and the only one I think deserved a Broadway transfer. The performances were all top-drawer (esp. Sandy Duncan and Beth Leavel), the choreography was sublime as were the costumes and orchestrations and… well everything. The evening ended at Seppi’s afterward with many of the folks from brunch, all of us smiling and singing “I Want to Be Happy” until the wee hours.

March 15, 2009. I had seen Angela Lansbury make her Broadway return in Terrence McNally’s Deuce opposite Marian Seldes and I would see her sublime portrait of Madame Armfeldt in the revival of A Little Night Music. But there was something extra-special about her Tony-winning performance as Madame Arcati in Blithe Spirit. I never would have imagined Lansbury would have such a Broadway renaissance, but am so grateful to have been here to witness it. As Arcati, Lansbury was an utter delight and continued to become even more entertaining as the run progressed. She nailed every laugh, gesture and indignant expression. And watching her improvise her spirit dance around the Condomine living room was worth the price of admission. This opening night was like something out of a 50s movie: tie and tails, elegant evening gowns and a party at Sardi’s. We maintained our own mad-cap party of sorts on the street and gleefully applauded the Liz Ashley as she got into her car (“I’m not in the show!”)

May 16 & July 26, 2009 – The Norman Conquests. I had been out of the country for the birth of my nephew when the announcements and the marquee went up and was a little surprised to see the play’s logo at Circle in the Square upon my return. I confess, I knew very little about Alan Ayckbourn’s trilogy of plays. But on a whim, I decided to take in a Saturday marathon of all three. It would become one of the most personally satisfying theatrical experiences of my life. A brilliant ensemble, impeccable direction by Matthew Warchus made these plays the funniest dramas or the saddest comedies I’ve ever seen. I was aching with laughter. I loved it so much, I had to be there for the final marathon which only cemented its place in my estimation. The ensemble was brilliant, but Stephen Mangan’s turn as Norman remains a personal favorite of all time.

September 18, 2009. I only knew of The Royal Family from its place in theatrical lore, but was excited to see the play at Manhattan Theatre Club. Sarah and I attended this early preview and were in awe. Jan Maxwell owned the stage as Julie Cavendish, in a sublime study in comedy. I also just adored Rosemary Harris as the aging matriarch, whose eleven o’clock moment took my breath away both times I saw the show. But more than the production itself, it was the way it made me feel – I loved the Cavendish dynasty and reveled in their love of all things theatre and would have loved to have been a member of the extended family.

December 12, 2010 – The final performance of The Scottsboro Boys. The performance was brilliant, as I knew it would be. However, it was the audience that surprised me this time. Before the show started, the audience gave composer John Kander a spontaneous full-house standing ovation – a gesture I’ve never seen in my ten years of theatregoing. At the curtain call, Kander toasted the late Fred Ebb, librettist David Thompson toasted the real-life Scottsboro Boys and director/choreographer Susan Stroman toasted the entire audience.

Every trip to the theatre is a memory for me, some good and some bad. (The Philanthropist, Bye Bye Birdie, The Ritz, Next Fall… but why dwell on the negative?) So here’s to the next decade and all the wonderful theatre it will bring.

Posted on December 30, 2010 at 8:04 pm.

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Act One Finale

My musical theatre professor Stephen Kitsakos teaches his classes about various song types heard in musicals. He would start at the very beginning with the overture and progress in sequence through the general structure of a musical. However, my two favorites were always the eleven o’clock number and act one finale. The eleven o’clock number is that last showstopper that galvanizes or energizes the audience just prior to the finale. With the act one finale, Stephen (facetiously) said its most important function is to entice the audience to return after intermission. That is merely one aspect (and truth be told, a valid one). It should also serve to move the story forward and provide a sort of button for what has been seen so far. There are dozens and dozens of different numbers that come to mind, but I’ll keep it to a few examples.

Dreamgirls. Michael Bennett’s staggering finish to act one is the stuff of theatre legend. The Supremes-like trio is on the rise, but everyone is forced to deal with Effie White’s diva temperament. Effie, the overweight lead singer finds herself pushed to back up position for the prettier Deena. The first act ends with her being kicked out of the Dreams, with a volatile confrontation (“It’s All Over”). Effie sings of not feeling well and pains in her stomach, which hint at the pregnancy revealed in the second act when she struggles to make a comeback. The original production’s first act ended with Jennifer Holliday’s impassioned and defiant “And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going,” a force of nature showstopper that earned the star standing ovations mid-song. There are reports of people standing on their chairs and running down the aisles to the stage screaming while she was riffing. Bennett; however, brilliantly cut off Effie’s moment by upstaging her applause with the debut of the new Dreams as the curtain falls.

A Little Night Music. Stephen Sondheim has written phenomenal act one finales for his shows, but this one in particular is quite dazzling. Fredrik and Desiree have reconnected after fifteen years apart. He’s married to an 18 year old virgin. His 19 year old son is in love with his stepmother. Desiree’s lover is insanely jealous, his wife tells the virgin about Fredrik and Desiree having a fling. As the show approaches the end of the first act, Desiree unhatches a plan to win Fredrik back for good by inviting him and his family to her mother’s estate for “A Weekend in the Country.”

South Pacific. Rodgers and Hammerstein and Joshua Logan ended the first act of the show with a musical scene rather than a curtain number. It’s mostly dialogue between the two protagonists, interspersed with reprises of Nellie’s upbeat songs heard so far. The scene takes a serious turn when Emile and the audience discover a new, uglier facet of Nellie’s personality when she reveals her racial prejudices against Emile’s deceased Polynesian wife. The final reprise in the act is Emile’s “Some Enchanted Evening,” first sung as an expression of love to Nellie, but is now in an entirely new context.

She Loves Me. My favorite musical comedy. The first act ends with Georg realizing that Amalia, his arch nemesis at work, is his lonely-hearts correspondent and soul mate. Knowing this information, he irritates Amalia, who is quite insecure as to whether or not Dear Friend will actually show up. Georg’s teasing leads to an argument between the two and Amalia dismisses him with a withering summation of his character flaws. The quieter-than-usual first act finale is her plaintive plea, “don’t let it end, Dear Friend,” a gentle waltz that brings down the curtain as she becomes quite aware that she has been stood up.

Gypsy. I don’t know that you an have a discussion about act one finales without bringing up Gypsy. Madame Rose dominates the musical and has three major solos that are all at eleven o’clock quality. I look at Rose’s character arc through these three numbers: “Some People” is a defiant expression of her determination, “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” is her desperation and “Rose’s Turn” is her defeat. As the show approaches the end of the first act, favored daughter Dainty June runs off with Tulsa, the rest of the act walks away while faithful Louise and Herbie want nothing more than to settle down. Rose, ever the pioneer woman without a frontier, sets her sights on bringing stardom to the overlooked Louise, in an incredibly chilling moment where it becomes clear that Rose will stop at nothing.

Posted on November 13, 2010 at 8:11 pm.

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June Havoc (1912-2010)

The musical was named after her sister and it was about her mother. But it’s impossible to forget Baby June, dancing on point to those hokey routines thought up by her mother, the formidable Madame Rose. June Havoc, the real-life counterpart to that character is probably best known to contemporary audiences through this fictionalized depiction of her in the iconic Gypsy. The musical itself – one of the greatest ever written – is “suggested” by her sister, Gypsy Rose Lee’s memoirs and dubbed “A Musical Fable” by librettist Arthur Laurents because of the show’s skeletal resemblance to the truth. (Laurents also wrote in his memoirs that the former ecdysiast was “allergic to the truth”).

Their lives were the stuff of legend – especially of their mother’s ruthless attempts to commandeer her children into show business (along with the forged birth certificates, their gypsy-like existence and even of Rose killing someone at her boarding house). If we were to compile the story from all three, we’d probably end up with Rashomon with spangles.

However, Havoc maintained successful career as an actress, comedienne, singer, dancer, author and director. In the musical, June elopes with Tulsa (in reality, his name was Bobby Reed) and the story shifts focus to Rose’s attempts to turn the lesser talented Louise into a star. That’s the last you see of her, though there is a vague reference in the climactic dressing room scene where Gypsy says, “June’s the actress, Mother.” But that’s it. June was far from thrilled with the way the musical portrayed her and her mother, and it led to long-standing rift between her and her sister (They reconciled when Gypsy was diagnosed with lung cancer. She died in 1970).

Both daughters had fascinating lives. Gypsy went on to become the highest paid star of Minsky’s and launched a career as a personality that resulted in books, plays, films, and her own TV show. Havoc had to work harder, struggling as a vaudevillian (and later single mother) during the Depression before a major break came on Broadway in the original cast of Pal Joey. She took herself to Hollywood where she appeared in the 1942 film version of My Sister Eileen, Hello Frisco Hello and her most notable role, Gentleman’s Agreement (as Gregory Peck’s Jewish secretary passing for Gentile). The time she spent as a marathon dancer led to her writing Marathon ’33 a short-lived but critically acclaimed play starring Julie Harris that brought Havoc a Tony nomination for her direction. Later notable appearances on Broadway included Dinner at Eight and as the last Miss Hannigan in Annie. In the 1980s, she toured as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd and also in her own one woman show (amusingly called An Unexpected Evening with June Havoc).

Their mother, the indomitable Rose Hovick died of cancer in 1954, at which point both daughters felt they could finally write their memoirs (avoiding what would have been an inevitable lawsuit from Mama). Gypsy’s was published first in 1957 and the rest on that front is history. However, Early Havoc was released in 1959, followed by More Havoc in 1980 – two books that I am seeking out myself because I am really interested to know June’s side of the story. The first time I really saw Havoc was on TV in various interviews, most notably her contributions to Rick McKay’s essential documentary Broadway: The Golden Age. I’ve always felt that Gypsy was always in “Gypsy mode -upholding a persona. Whereas June is the opposite, always genuine and warm with parts of her performing self seeping through. There was one particular moment in Life After Tomorrow in which a camera backstage after the closing of Annie captured Havoc warmly consoling a particularly distraught young girl.

Havoc spent most of her remaining years living in Connecticut. Havoc’s good mental and physical health kept her active and energetic for many, many years. In 2003, an off-off Broadway house on 36th Street was dedicated to her. She was one of the last links we have to the era of vaudeville and burlesque, not to mention pre-Rodgers and Hammerstein musical theatre). June is survived by her nephew Erik Lee Preminger. Her daughter, the former actress April Kent, died in 1998.

The following is an outtake from Broadway: The Golden Age in which Havoc talks about her audition experience with Pal Joey, most appropriate titled “That’s Show Business.” Enjoy.

Posted on March 30, 2010 at 10:37 pm.

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Broadway Commercials, Part 2

Gypsy (Tyne Daly):

Oliver!:

Annie:

Hello, Dolly!:

A Chorus Line:

Dreamgirls:

The Mystery of Edwin Drood:

Song & Dance:

The Rink:

Timbuktu:

Posted on October 5, 2009 at 7:12 pm.

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Mama’s Got the Stuff

There are certainly a variety of recordings of Gypsy on the market for discerning cast album collectors. Ethel Merman originated the role of Rose in 1959, Roz Russell scored the 1962 film adaptation. Angela Lansbury breathed life into the original London and first Broadway revival in 1973 & 74, respectively. Tyne Daly starred in the 1989 revival; Bernadette Peters in the 2003 revival and of course Patti LuPone in the recent 2008 production. Oh, and Bette Midler made the 1993 made for television adaptation. So even if you don’t count the horrendous Kay Medford studio cast album, that’s a lot of Gypsy.

If there is any one argument to be had, it’s over which actress is the definitive Rose. Every one of these leading ladies has had their share of vociferous champions as well as detractors. It’s just the nature of the beast. When it comes down to it, there are two recordings of Gypsy I listen to repeatedly: the original Broadway and original London albums.

Tyne Daly’s album is marred by the powers that be who insisted she record the score while suffering from laryngitis (don’t let the album – which Tyne herself has disowned – fool you: a trip to youtube shows you what a marvel she was in the part). I don’t feel that the most two recent albums fully captured what made Bernadette and Patti’s performances indelible (and the tempo and energy on the latter is surprisingly lacking). The two soundtrack albums offer very little in terms of musical enjoyment, unless you’re a fan of Lisa Kirk or Bette Midler.

While I love the London cast album for Angela Lansbury’s truly stunning turn as Rose, the recording of Gypsy to end all Gypsy‘s is the original Broadway cast recording with Miss Ethel Merman. The album was recorded May 24, 1959. As was the tradition for most musicals at the time, it was recorded on the first Sunday after opening. It was released a mere two weeks later and has been a must have for Broadway fans ever since.

The original album is definitive for three reasons: Ethel Merman, Milton Rosenstock and Dick Perry. Merman was a force of nature in the part, and though people have looked back on her performance as lacking, she is electrifying on the album. Rosenstock was the musical director and I’ve yet to hear a better Gypsy orchestra. Dick Perry was the second trumpet player on the show who became an in demand player for many musicals as a result of the showstopping improvisation during the overture. Styne insisted on Perry for the pits of many of his subsequent musicals and can be heard on the cast albums of Do Re Mi, Subways Are for Sleeping and most prominently in Funny Girl where he was the Cornet Man. Gypsy is widely considered to have the greatest overture in musical theatre, and its first recording has never been bettered.

There is also something about the way Goddard Lieberson recorded these big scores for Columbia records in the late 50s and 60s that is just so satisfying. While Lieberson took liberties with false lead-ins and endings and rarely recording dialogue, his albums are some of the best ever produced. He had a knack for producing and helped make Columbia the leader in original cast recordings, when show music was at the height of popular culture. Once he retired in the 70s, Thomas Shepard, who produced the remastering of this recording, became the leader over at RCA. But in terms of how it was recorded – everyone was in a large room and the performances were big and theatrical, truly capturing what it was like to hear the score in the theatre. There was a kineticism that is lacking on most contemporary cast albums. This energy is especially evident on Lieberson’s recordings such as Gypsy and for my money, the greatest cast album of a musical ever made, Mame.

In honor of the show’s 50th anniversary, Sony Masterworks has reissued the album in a brand new edition (its third CD release). The new release is pretty much the same as the ’99 release, with the noted addition of three tracks: a publisher’s demo of “Who Needs Him?” from 1959, Michael Feinstein’s brief interview with composer Jule Styne about working on the show and “Gypsy Rose Lee Recalls Burlesque.” The latter is one of those novelty items that has to be heard to be fully appreciated. The liner notes are reprinted verbatim from ’99, with the addition of a few new paragraphs that comment on the continuing popularity of the show, mentioning Bernadette and Patti in the process.

In lieu of a jewel case, the new release is in one of those trifold cardboard slimline cases, with an insert for the liner note booklet and another for the CD itself. The case itself recreates the original LP artwork, the liner notes recreates the collage of photos used for the LP reissue and first CD release. One in particular that I’ve never seen before but is a rather fun shot of Paul Wallace recording “All I Need is the Girl” with Sandra Church.

If you already have the ’99 Gypsy, the new release isn’t really necessary unless you’re a purist, such as myself. To those who don’t have it, I resist the urge to ask you what you’re waiting for and instead offer you links from which you can purchase it.

Posted on July 23, 2009 at 2:31 pm.

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The Last Five Years

When I was a senior in high school, we had a brand new principal who used to sign off from her daily morning address with a treacly admonition of “The choices you make today, shape your world tomorrow.” Given that she was ingratiating, new and a bit of an upstart (and a marriage between Hillary Clinton and Miss America), we were loath to consider what she said at the time. However, as I sit here this evening I realize how accurate she is.

You see, it was five years ago today that the revival of Gypsy starring Bernadette Peters closed on Broadway, and a chance meeting at the theater that day led to the writing of this blog and the substantial friendships I have cultivated as a result of it, and has contributed to the course my life has taken.

When it was announced for the second time that Gypsy would definitely close at the end of May, I decided it was time for me to get my rear in gear and see the show. I had never seen Gypsy, one of the best shows ever written, live. While browsing online at Telecharge, I noticed that tickets were available for the very last performance and I decided I would jump at the opportunity. I had never attended a closing before.

Then came the problem: no one wanted to go with me. “Some people can’t even give it away” rang true as I counted down to the big event. The day of the show I managed to get in contact with a close friend from high school, who dropped everything and rushed to meet me at the train station. Sam is a writer and was just beginning studying to be a playwright at SUNY Purchase, so she was interested to look at it from that perspective, since she had only heard selections of the score and was almost wholly unfamiliar with the work.

That day, Bernadette and co. blew the roof off of the Shubert Theatre. The announcement of Marvin Laird as the musical conductor brought cheers from many regulars. That overture. That titanic overture brought the crowd to a standing ovation. Shortly thereafter came the words “Sing out, Louise” as the audience once again flew out of their seats to cheer the star entrance as Bernadette as Rose made her way from the back of the house to the stage. In spite of any critical misgivings certain people might have had, Ms. Peters delivered nothing short of a powerhouse performance as Madame Rose, with absolutely no vocal trouble and passionately intense acting. The energy was palpable, the book was ripe and Bernadette’s Rose finagled, seduced, charmed and ultimately horrified when she brought the house down on itself with “Everything’s Coming Up Roses.”

At intermission, we were engrossed in conversation with the woman to our left, who was in attendance with her young son, looking dapper in a suit and who couldn’t have been more than seven. Turning to each other, we discussed the show from a written perspective. Sam had never heard “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” in its context before, so she floored at the underlying subtextual darkness. A younger gentleman making his way back to his seat in our aisle passed by as I was discussing the definitive nature of Ethel Merman with the role of Rose, at which point Sam alerted me that someone behind me was disagreeing with me. I turned and had a congenial debate with the young, passionate theatregoer, who admired the theatre and in particular this production. We discussed all the actresses who have inhabited the part of Rose, having as big a conversation in about 6 or 7 minutes than many people have in an hour.

Then came act two. The show was uproariously brilliant, every number bringing great applause, half the house even stood for the three strippers. Tammy Blanchard had to work hard on her “Strip,” ultimately falling short of expectations but still getting an E for Effort. Then came that moment to end all moments. A cone of silence fills the theatre as an embittered Rose emerges from a heated row with her daughter. Rejected, vilified, humiliated yet defiant, she once again starts to stand her guard by defiantly shouting to the empty stage that she could have been better than everyone else. This embittered cloud explodes into the storm that is the eleven o’clock number to end all eleven o’clock numbers: “Rose’s Turn.”

Bernadette Peter’s Turn was as devastating and cathartic as you could imagine, with hers an emotional breakdown as you watched her seams come apart. On the final “For me!” The audience stood and cheered and cheered and stood and stood and cheered some more. Bernadette bowed. And bowed. And bowed. Then she froze to wait for the applause to end, only to continue bowing as Tammy Blanchard entered clapping. This Gypsy still played to the more positive ending, with both leaving arm in arm, the audience emotionally drained yet exhilarated from witnessing yet another performance of “the best damned musical I’ve seen in years.”

Sadly, I had hoped to say goodbye to the young guy but missed him as we exited the theatre. Someone else from my high school happened to be there and had grabbed my attention. Such is the case with so many of the theatregoing acquaintances you meet. You share two to three hours with one another; if you’re lucky they are vibrant and intelligent conversationalists. So, I continued on my way.

The day also marked the first time I went backstage at the Shubert. Sam and I have a mutual friend from high school whose father plays in the pits for various shows and he was subbing that last week in the Gypsy pit, and arranged for us to get a brief impromptu tour of the wings and backstage area. We got to venture down into the pit area and look up at the Shubert from the most unusual vantage point, the three tiers towering above us.

The next day, I posted on ATC something specific about the production and lo and behold, my theatregoing friend and I reconnected via one of the threads about this particular performance. From that moment on, I made a fast friend by the name of Noah, who shared an exuberant passion for theatre, and in particular, musical theatre. Unbeknowst to me, he also met someone at the performance who also loves the live theatre experience and is always in the endless pursuit of entertainment. I would meet Sarah briefly a year later at the Theatre World Awards, but within the following two years developed a sturdy friendship that involved theatrical excursions and goings on, whose pursuit would bring us to many Mame-like heights opening new windows and enjoying life to the fullest. It was due mostly to Noah and Sarah’s encouragement that I started writing as the Theatre Aficionado at Large back in October ’07.

Life has a funny way of leading you into unexpected territory. Though I wrote some theatrical criticism in college, I never loved it. In fact I rather hated it. When forced to turn a critical eye to everything, there is the risk of missing out on enjoying the experiences. The very first thing I wrote was “I refuse to be a critic.” The blog was a compromise of which I was initially reticent. At first I didn’t take it seriously, only occasionally posting and not thinking I would stick to it. Well, I kept blogging, and then blogged even more. Now not a day goes by where I don’t think about something to share with my bloggers. As a result, I’ve made some of the greatest friends; people I would never have met otherwise. I look forward to seeing them on a daily basis via their websites, but also for their woefully infrequent trips to the New York City, where we gather for food, drinks, endless banter and of course, theatre. Whenever any of us get together, it is unquestionably an epic win.

Five years removed, I look back nostalgically on the friendships I treasure and look excitedly toward the next five. So to celebrate this anniversary, I raise a toast to all those good and crazy people, my theatre friends. Thanks for the laughs, the memories and the good times. My world is a better place because you are all a part of it.

And here’s to Bernadette Peters, for starting it all.

Posted on May 30, 2009 at 2:23 am.

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The Great American Musical Turns 50

Next month marks the 50th anniversary of what Walter Kerr called “The best damn musical I’ve seen in years.” The musical, based on the memoirs of that memorable ecdysiast Gypsy Rose Lee, opened at the Broadway Theatre on May 21, 1959 (after a mere two previews) to great reviews and a memorable star turn from the irrepressible Ethel Merman. Arthur Laurents, in what would be prove to be his last credible success as a musical theatre librettist, contributed arguably the finest book in American musical history. Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics, and at the insistence of Ms. Merman, Jule Styne wrote the music. Jerome Robbins directed and choreographed. The show, which opened in New York just following the 1958-59 cut-off, would be trounced in the 1959-60 season by The Sound of Music and Fiorello! in what is so far the one and only Best Musical tie in Tony history. Merman famously lost the Tony to Mary Martin, headlining the more crowdpleasing Sound of Music, with the infamous quip from Ethel: “You can’t buck a nun.” The musical play ran 702 performances in NY before Ethel Merman went out on national tour. This original cast album is a must-have for any musical theater lover. There are a lot of people who insist that Merman’s performance is subpar (many of whom didn’t actually see it, but I digress); however she delivers an electrifying performance on the album. She is ably supported by Sandra Church, Jack Klugman and Maria Karnilova as Tessie Tura. With all due respect to all other recordings that have come along, I don’t think the orchestrations by Robert Ginzler and Sid Ramin have ever sounded better than they do here. (Though let it be said, all recordings of Gypsy are required listening). Also, it’s only right to mention Dick Perry, a favorite of Jule Styne’s, who rocks out the improv section on the overture like none other. Perry also played on the original cast albums of Subways Are for Sleeping and Funny Girl, serving as soloist for “Cornet Man” and even receiving billing for it. His credits include several other big 60s musicals, as well as trumpet player in the original “Tonight Show” band.

I currently own the 1999 Sony release that cleaned up the album and restored part of “You Gotta Get a Gimmick.” The album included previously unreleased demos of songs from the score, including some cut numbers, an early version of “Some People” and a combination of “Mr. Goldstone” and a tender “Little Lamb” sung by Ethel. On May 5, the original cast album will be re-released yet again by Sony Masterworks in a new 50th anniversary edition. This new release includes all material on the 40th anniversary release, but will also include an audio clip of Michael Feinstein interviewing Jule Styne, as well as a track on which Gypsy Rose Lee herself looks back on burlesque. Yes, I’m seriously considering the upgrade. Also, Masterworks is planning a similar 50th anniversary release of The Sound of Music this fall.

Posted on April 18, 2009 at 3:23 pm.

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You Just Got Patti LuPwned

Something tells me this is never going to die.

Posted on January 22, 2009 at 4:20 am.

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Gypsy
Patti LuPone

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Cut from the 2008 "Gypsy"

I was perusing the libretto of Gypsy last evening as I realized I haven’t read it in quite some time. Seeing the show onstage tends to give me an excuse not to. However, as I’ve said before, my one major qualm with the 2008-Patti LuPone Gypsy was the alterations made to the libretto. The following items were cut unless otherwise bracketed with the changes made. Some are inconsequential, but there are some moments, particularly the rather uproarious Kringelein scene and the “Small World” reprise that detract from the dimension of Rose.

Act One, Scene Two (“Home Sweet Home – Seattle”)
LOUISE: That’s dog food, Momma.
ROSE: That’s what she thinks. I’m hungry.
LOUISE: Then why didn’t you eat some of our chow mein after the show?
ROSE: Because you two did the work and we gotta save every cent.

Act One, Scene Six (“Happy Birthday – Akron”)
(A knocking on the door)
KRINGELEIN (Off): Madame Rose!
ROSE: I am not cooking in here, Mr. Kringelein. That cow –
KRINGELEIN (Knock): Open this door!
ROSE: I’m dressing. That cow –
KRINGELEIN (Knock): Madame Rose –
ROSE: I’ll call you when I’m finished. That dear fat cow looked me right in the eye and said: “Rose, if you want to get on the Orpheum Circuit, put me in your act.” Children, you know what I’m going to do?
YONKERS: You’re going to pay that crummy cow and not us!
ROSE: I ain’t paying anybody but I’m going to take that cow’s advice! I’m going to call the new act: Dainty June and her Farm Boys. I’m going to get more boys. I’m going to put that cow in the act –
(In the other room, KRINGELEIN – a pompous hotel manager – opens the door quietly, shuts it behind him and tiptoes to the doorway between the two rooms as:) and Chowsie and the monkey. And Louise’s present – if you don’t mind honey –
LOUISE: But Momma, I don’t even know what my present is!
KRINGELEIN (Haughtily): No cooking, Madame Rose?
ROSE: How dare you enter a lady’s boudoir without knocking?
KRINGELEIN (Advancing): Where’s your hot plate?
ROSE: Where’s your search warrant?
KRINGELEIN (Heading toward bathroom): In all the years I have been running a theatrical hotel –
ROSE (Opening corridor door): If you don’t leave, I’m going to scream!
(ONE OF THE BOYS darts to block the bathroom door)
KRINGELEIN (Pointing toward sign): You know the rules. No cooking. No electrical appliances. No – no pets other than small (Pushes kid out of the way) dogs or – (Opens the bathroom door. A little lamb in rubber drawers runs out between his legs and over to LOUISE)
ROSE: Happy birthday, darling!
KRINGELEIN: It’s a GODDAMN ZOO!
ROSE: Profanity in front of my babies! June, get the Bible! Get the Bible!
(People in bathrobes and wrappers etc. begin to appear in the doorway, flowing into the room)
KRINGELEIN: You pack up this dirty menagerie and get out!
ROSE: You’ll have to throw me out, you rotten ANIMAL HATER! (To others) That’s what he is! Send for the SPCA!
KRINGELEIN: Send for the police! I rented these two rooms to one adult and three children! Now I see one adult! 5 pets and 1,2,3,4
ROSE: You counted him twice! (The KIDS are running in and out. SHE turns to the others) It’s a simple little birthday party for my baby –
KRINGELEIN: 1,2,3,4 – STAND STILL!
ROSE: Chow mein. I’d offer you some but there’s only one egg roll –
KRINGELEIN: How many are sleeping in that room?
ROSE: What room?
KRINGELEIN (In doorway between two rooms): THIS room, Madame, THIS room!
ROSE (Pushing him in): There isn’t a soul in this room.
KRINGELEIN: Now you know what I –
ROSE (Closing door behind them): Except you and me. (She lets out a scream as she shoves him down onto the mattress on the floor) Mr. Kringelein, what are you trying to do?!! (Throws pillows and blankets on him) Mr. Kringelein! Stop! Help! Help! (She wrenches her robe open and staggers back into the other room where PEOPLE get a chair for her and ad lib as:) My babies! My babies! MONSTER! Thank you, Gladys. A little birthday party – chow mein – a tiny little cake –
(LOUISE, with her lamb, goes into other room during this. KRINGELEIN is getting out of the snarl of blankets and exits)
HERBIE’S VOICE (From hall): Rose! Rose! Are you all right? (He enters room and pushes his way to ROSE’s side) Rose! What’s happened? Are you ok, honey?
ROSE (Straightening herself): Sure! Where have you – (Then remembering) Herbie. Mr. Kringelein, the hotel manager, he – he tried to – to –
HERBIE (A cynical eye): Again?
(Straightens up and starts for other room)
ROSE: Well, I had to do something Herbie, don’t you dare apologize to him!

Act Two, Scene Two (“The Bottom – Wichita”)
TESSIE: You know, from the way that dame walks, she would have been a damn good stripper in her day.

[changed to:
TESSIE: She's your mother?
LOUISE. Yes. She's my mother.]

MAZEPPA (Belligerently): Something wrong with stripping?

[given to Electra]

Act Two, Scene Four
(PASTEY races out. ROSE touches the place where HERBIE kissed her, and then sings:)
SMALL WORLD – REPRISE – ROSE
ROSE:
Lucky, you’re a man who likes children
That’s and important sign.
Lucky, I’m a woman with children –
Funny, small and funny –
(ROSE gets up and slowly walks to the white gloves. She has them in her hand, and is glaring at them as LOUISE comes out and takes the gloves from her. ROSE watches her start to put them on, the speaks quietly, as though dazed…)

ROSE (Softly): You look beautiful!
TESSIE (Runs on with an old fur stole which she wraps around LOUISE): For luck, honey!
ROSE: Are you nervous?
LOUISE: …What?
ROSE: I said Are you nervous, Baby?
LOUISE: No, Mother.

Act Two, Scene Five (Louise’s Dressing Room)
ROSE: You won’t be ready when vaudeville comes back.
LOUISE: No, I’ll be dead. (Then, indicating the furs she has thrown on a chair) Renee, tell Sam he can lock up the animals for the night.
RENEE: Ok.

Act Two, Scene Six (Backstage)
ROSE (Tough with herself, too, she shakes her head) If I could’ve been, I would’ve been. And that’s show business… Listen. About that school – I could open one – for kids, like you said. Only – kids grow up. And twice is enough… I guess I did do it for me.
LOUISE: Why, Mother?
ROSE: Just wanted to be noticed.
LOUISE: Like I wanted you to notice me. (ROSE turns and looks at her) I still do, Momma.
(She holds out her arms to ROSE, who hesitates then comes running to her like a child. LOUISE pats her, kisses her hair as she says) It’s ok, Momma. It’s ok, Rose.
(ROSE clutches her, then moves away. Forces a smile as she turns back)

[They've streamlined this exchange, taking out "Listen. About that school.... And twice is enough" as well as dropping the line "I still do, Momma."]

ROSE (Stops moving): Only it was you and me, wearing exactly the same gown. It was an ad for Minsky – and the headline said: (She traces the name in the air)
MADAME ROSE
(Louise gives her a look; ROSE catches it, and moving her hand up to give LOUISE top billing, says:)
And HER DAUGHTER, GYPSY!
(They both begin to laugh as they walk off and – )
CURTAIN

[The change here comes in the staging and characterization. As originally written there is a sense of understanding between the two of them and they walk off to the party together. In the revival, Rose is still in the midst of her delusions as she says this. Louise laughs, shakes her head and walks off in hysterics, leaving Rose onstage in her own world of hopelessness, maniacally reaching for the out of reach, broken down "ROSE" sign. The orchestration has been slightly altered for this sequence, with the piano now starting the final phrase of "Everything's Coming Up Roses" for the curtain.]

Posted on January 21, 2009 at 2:16 pm.

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Theatre Aficionado at Large

Tag: Gypsy

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