“Follies” – The New Broadway Cast Recording

Follies - NBCR

Though the acclaimed revival of Follies will end its limited engagement on January 22, the landmark production has produced a staggering cast album, recorded by PS Classics and is without question a must-have and must-hear. The lavish 2-disc set captures is almost complete, capturing most of the score (more on that later) with its original orchestration intact (rare for any musical these days, most especially for a Sondheim show). It also may be the greatest album PS Classics has ever released; regardless of whether you agree with me or not, it is a spectacular achievement.

There are already four official recordings of Follies available on the market. There’s the devastatingly truncated original that preserves some incredible snippets of the performances (particularly Alexis Smith’s “Could I Leave You?” and Dorothy Collins’ “Losing My Mind”), the original London cast with its considerable changes, as well as the famed live concert recording Follies in Concert (or as I think of it, Follies without Context) and the most complete reading of the score, including cut material, the 1998 PaperMill production.

This latest Follies is as essential as these four. While I can’t say the album is definitive (the production and this recording lack the dance specialty “Bolero d’Amore”), it comes quite close. The album carefully captures the show in a way that in some ways improves upon the stage production, most specifically the inclusion of elements from the original 1971 libretto. In effect, the album is more like a radio play. Much of what is spoken is contained on separate tracks so you can program those out if you’re not a fan of that on cast albums (and knowing the friends I have, there are many who are not).

The disc captures the best of what’s onstage: Danny Burstein’s staggering portrayal of Buddy Plummer, with “The Right Girl” and especially “The God-Why-Don’t-You-Love-Me Blues.” Jan Maxwell’s brittle sophistication shines through, and the way she lands “GUESS!” in “Could I Leave You?” is one of the most satisfying things I have ever heard. Bernadette Peters tones down some of the more neurotic aspects of her onstage character for a more solidly sung performance on disc. Meanwhile, Ron Raines lends gravitas and his large baritone voice to Ben Stone’s mid-life crisis.

Onto the featured players, Elaine Paige sings a socko “I’m Still Here,” while Terri White tears into “Who’s That Woman?” which includes all the ad libs tossed around during the dance sequences. Rosalind Elias and Leah Horowitz are in glorious voice on “One More Kiss” while Susan Watson, Don Correia, the glamorous Mary Beth Peil and Jayne Houdyshell tear into the Montage trio. Every song is a gem, and each one has been recorded with great care.

One of the stars of this production, and subsequent recording, is the 28 piece orchestra conducted by James Moore. This production marked the first time I had seen a Sondheim production on Broadway using the original orchestration, and does it make all the difference. Kudos to Tommy Krasker and the team at PS Classics, as this recording brings out the colors and nuances in Jonathan Tunick’s brilliant charts with great clarity.

The double disc album is beautifully packaged by PS Classics, with a lavish booklet including an essay from NY1’s Patrick Pancheco, a personal note from album producer Tommy Krasker and a plot synopsis by Sean Patrick Flahaven. Also included are the show’s complete lyrics, as well as the dialogue heard throughout. Interspersed are some stunning photographs of the production. I don’t remember the last time a cast album was as stunning to look at as well as hear.

"Finian’s Rainbow" Revival on CD


When it comes to Broadway cast albums I almost always have a tendency for the original Broadway cast; they are usually definitive, including those made in the aural ice age of the 78 rpm platters or the dawn of the LP in the 1940s. Stereo came into play in 1956, Goddard Lieberson at Columbia was the champion of the original cast recording.

As the art form of the American musical has evolved, the technology with which music is recorded – and played on – has changed precipitously. Time constraints, technological limitations are no longer an issue. When there is money for an album, there is now room for dialogue, bonus material and occasionally a DVD companion. The problem is in the market – the original cast album has gone from one of the most lucrative areas of the music industry in the 1950s and 60s to a niche market. Pirating makes matters even worse. However, the producers take an extra special care in making sure the album released is the best it can be.

That said, I tend to prefer the contemporary recordings of new musicals as opposed to revivals. Perhaps its my ear lacking adjustment or just my personal preference, but in spite of all the great technological advancements, many of the older shows being re-recorded tend to lack the energy that makes the show work in the theatre, or the original cast album come to life in your room. So many of the new revivals sound as though they were recorded in a small studio, whereas the originals contain palpable theatre performance preserved for the ages. Revivals such as South Pacific, Gypsy and Hair were stunners onstage, but their respective albums fail to capture the magic. However, there are many older recordings that do capture that magic, in particular those Columbia albums of the 50s and 60s.

So while I vary my listening – I can have up to as many as 10 recordings of a particular score (and I do make it a point to listen to each to listen for variations in performance, orchestration, relevance, etc) I do find myself preferring to go back to the originals. However, there are always exceptions to the rule.

Finian’s Rainbow is one of those exceptions. I’ve never particularly cared for the 1947 original cast album released by Columbia (it was their second theatre recording; the first was the previous year’s revival of Show Boat). It preserves David Wayne’s Tony-winning performance as Og, but I’m perpetually bothered by the mannerisms of star Ella Logan. I don’t know if she found it charming, or was trying (in vain) to mask her Scottish accent, but her consonant heavy crooning gets on my nerves. A 1960 revival album is better, but lacks star power with the exception of contralto Carol Brice’s rendition of “Necessity.” Then there’s the film adaptation, a bloated anachronism from 1968 that fizzles on impact. A 2004 off-Broadway revival at the Irish Rep also received a delightful recording, but that featured that production’s spare 2 piano reduction.

It was the recent Encores! and Broadway revival that really introduced me to the many joys of its classic whimsy. This dated, “unrevivable” mix of satire and fantasy was suddenly back in fashion, a resounding production that led to its latest cast album, a stunning effort from PS Classics. The new disc is one of the most complete recordings of the score, featuring the glorious original orchestration under the baton of musical director Rob Berman. Everything sparkles from the first notes of “Glocca Mora” in the overture to its bittersweet finale. The overture is presented in its entirety, as well as the entr’acte. Recorded here for the first time is the second act “Dance of the Golden Crock” with its haunting harmonica accompaniment provided by Guy Davis. It’s noteworthy to hear “If This Isn’t Love” in its entirety, dance break and all. It was a showstopper in the theatre, and remains so on disc.

I’ve already exhausted many superlatives on this musical production, which should still be running. Despite some reservations with the book, the ebullient cast and creative team created one of the most beguiling revivals of the year, with stellar performances and the perfect mix of satire and sentiment. I expected the show to receive good notices, but I didn’t anticipate that its old fashioned charm would bring it the best notices of any show to open this season (to date).

Kate Baldwin and Cheyenne Jackson sparkle. She is entrancing from her first note in “How Are Things in Glocca Mora?” Nothing will ever erase the memory of hearing her sing this song for the first time, in the most bewitching deliveries of the ballad I’ve heard. Every element of her performance is captured here: her flirtatiousness, her feistiness and her unique charm. Jackson’s performance comes across better on disc than it did in the theatre. If Woody seemed a bit stiff onstage, his baritenor is perfect for crooning the period score. The chemistry between the two of them here is palpable (particularly on the standard “Old Devil Moon”).

Jim Norton supplies his gruff but lovable Finian, getting to do more singing than most prior actors in the role. Christopher Fitzgerald chews it up as the impish leprechaun Og, who score major points with the eleven o’clocker “When I’m Not Near the Girl I Love.” Terri White’s “Necessity” would bring down the house in the St. James, Carnegie Hall or Giants’ Stadium. Her contralto reverberates like thunder on the horizon – and rightly stopped the show at every performance. Chuck Cooper leads the second quartet “The Begat” with charm and gusto.

For those who are still lamenting its premature closing, much like myself, the recording recalls many fond memories. Those who missed it will get a feel for the treasure they missed. The resulting product is in my estimation the definitive cast recording of Finian’s Rainbow and one that I plan on revisiting time and again.

"Kitty’s Kisses"

There was this musical about three years ago that came to Broadway by way of Canada. It was about a middle age recluse who listened to his favorite cast album as it came to life in his own living room. It won a few Tonys, was a decent hit and endeared co-librettist/star Bob Martin to the theatre world. The show was The Drowsy Chaperone, which glibly spoofed 20s musicals of a certain ilk, namely the light romantic musical comedy.

The first time I popped on the cast album of Kitty’s Kisses from PS Classics, I was immediately reminded of Chaperone, seeing the character archetypes and plot contrivances popular in the pre-Show Boat musical that are reflected on and spoofed in the later show. Kitty’s Kisses ran for 170 performances, not bad for a show of the era, back when it took a couple of months if not weeks to recoup. Though a success, it wasn’t a blockbuster like No No Nanette or Good News, and like many other likable period shows, fell by the wayside. Some of the songs by Con Conrad and Gus Kahn became hits (the liner notes mention that Queen Marie of Romania was particularly fond of the title song), but the show has been mostly forgotten, except as a footnote in musical theatre history books.

One of my biggest issues with The Drowsy Chaperone was its initial conceit, a point exemplified by the obscurity of Kitty’s Kisses. There was no such thing as an original Broadway cast album during the decade. It wasn’t until the 1930s that record producers started to experiment in preserving musical theatre scores. It seems a minor sticking issue, but it’s what’s kept Chaperone at bay for me. Though, I took less issue with the London production which adapted the show for the West End (the original London cast album predates the original Broadway cast album by quite a few years). My main beef – the Chaperone is pastiche. It’s sometimes amusing, but it’s mostly mediocre, coming off as a rehash of a rehash of a rehash (and truth be told, I hope and pray there is a moratorium on new 20s musical comedy spoofs).

But now we get a sample of the real thing, and what a superb treat it is. Kitty’s Kisses was a success in NY, then it went to London where it was merged with the Rodgers and Hart musical The Girl Friend (that’s something you don’t hear every day…). It was a charmer that got lost in the shuffle, and was eventually shelved in a New Jersey warehouse where it would have continued to languish were it not for Tommy Krasker. He stumbled upon the material while cataloging the Warner Bros music archive in the mid-80s and it is through his persistence that the restoration was done, with painstaking research and commitment as well as the blessing of Donald Kahn, Gus’ son (to whom the album is posthumously dedicated). Now after 23 years of hard work, he has given us an unexpected surprise this fall: an official cast recording of Kitty’s Kisses, billed as “The Bright New Summer Musical Delight.”

Rebecca Luker lends her shimming soprano to the title role, the innocent ingenue who finds herself at the center of the ridiculous period farce going on around her. The big scandal – Kitty poses as a married woman to get a hotel room and is mistaken for another married woman. Hijinks, mistaken identities and your usual machinations propel the plot (of which there is admittedly very little). But as was often the case, the script was an excuse for gags and light musical entertainment. The score is light, engaging and often delightfully clever with Kahn’s lyrics beautifully complemented by Conrad’s period sound. There are many studio recordings of scores that feel like a textbook document of a musical, rather than a vibrant cast album. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt such joy and warmth from hearing a “lost” score.

The effervescent Kate Baldwin is the free-spirited Lulu, getting things off to a fresh start with the opener “Walking the Track.” Victoria Clark is an absolute riot as grand dame opera singing dowager Mrs. Dennison, who shares the duet “I Don’t Want Him” with Luker. The “Him” in that number happens to be played by Danny Burstein, while Malcolm Gets plays his brother. Andrea Burns and Christopher Fitzgerald take on the specialty material, originally created for vaudeville duo Ruth Warren and William Wayne. Phil Chaffin is Robert Mason, Kitty’s stoic love interest. Jim Stanek makes a brief appearance as the train conductor leading “Choo Choo Love.”

The album was not only produced by Mr. Krasker, but he has supplied a concise, informative essay on the show, its fall into obscurity and its restoration and resurrection. The show’s synopsis is provided by Robert Edridge-Waks. Orchestration was provided by Sam Davis, who also conducted the recording. The CD booklet also contains various production photos and images of newspaper clippings as well as the program from the Newark tryout.

According to the Krasker, the material for the finale ultimo was never recovered. The show ended on Broadway with a song called “Steppin’ on the Blues,” (with additional music by Will Davidson) and I can only assume that the song itself is also lost. The powers behind the album have created a brand new finale ultimo for the show using the composing duo’s Oscar-winning song “The Continental” from the 1934 film The Gay Divorcee. It doesn’t quite gel with the rest of the score, but it’s a cute way of wrapping things up.

This is the third in a line of score restorations for the label; they released Vincent Youman’s Through the Years in 2001 and Kay Swift’s Fine and Dandy in 2004. I cannot stress how wonderful it is that the folks at PS Classics have taken the time to painstaking refurbish a show like Kitty’s Kisses. In the late 1980s and 1990s, John McGlinn was pretty much the go-to archivist with an emphasis on the works of Jerome Kern, while John Mauceri took care of the Gershwin canon. Those albums, however, were intent on restoring the works of major composers. However, the audience for show music sadly appears to be shrinking and shrinking, so less recordings like these are less likely to be made. John Yap make a series of full studio cast albums of entire vocal scores, but given the economy has left them sitting on the shelf (including the full album of One Touch of Venus made with Melissa Errico). It’s unfortunate, as each of these recording provides musical theatre fans with a further link to the history of the genre. I only hope it’s not another five years until PS Classics releases its fourth restoration.