Quote of the Day #2

Ms. Smith gets another mention today from her second page:

I DON’T want to get silly here but must confess that seeing the incredible “South Pacific” revival at Lincoln Center is akin to having a true spiritual experience. I was never a big Rodgers/Hammerstein fan, but this time I was felled with emotion and appreciation. Everything about this production is perfect, including Bartlett Sher’s direction and the sets of Michael Yeargan. The music is more stunning than ever.

When it became the only musical to win all four Tonys for acting back in 1949 . . . when it was nominated for nine Tonys and won all . . . when it went on to nab the Pulitzer in 1950 . . . when it ran for five years – I was indifferent. Not anymore. This is a masterpiece. It seems to mean much more now, and its evocation of World War II is deeper. The moral lessons of racism seem even more apt. I salute one and all but especially Kelli O’Hara as the navy nurse Nellie Forbush. I also loved the magnificent Paulo Szot as the French planter Emile de Beque; his character is written as being a bit tentative but not his singing.

You may have to wait to see this show because current audiences are mostly upscale, upper-middle-class, middle-aged enthusiasts who support Lincoln Center. But young people and even kids are coming. Get in line! Don’t miss it! The revival experience of a lifetime – and with that other revival experience of a lifetime, “Gypsy,” also playing right now – well, that’s really saying something. Both shows are incomparable. I would hate to have to choose between them.

Quote of the Day

From Liz Smith’s gossip columnin today’s NY Post:

IN HIS review of “Gypsy” on Broadway, the Times critic Ben Brantley noted that the star Patti LuPone had gotten her role down so brilliantly that “she had made me eat my hat.” Previously, he’d given her a lukewarm review.

Indeed, after he saw Patti blow the audience away at the St. James Theatre, Brantley gave her the rave she deserved. The next day she sent him a chocolate cowboy hat in a deluxe hat box, with the note, “I hope you’re laughing.”

The overture is about to start

One of the reasons I loved the revival of South Pacific was its fearless use of the entire original overture. The overture, designed originally to play before a show to allow late-comers to be seated before the start of the show, has diminished in use these days, with many shows either opening cold or offering a very brief musical prelude before the start.

I love the overtures. They set a tone for the evening; they allow you to be introduced to musical themes and phrases from within the show and to get a feel for the size and scope of the orchestra and orchestrations. It’s the foreplay. What follows is the sex. It can be long, short, pleasant, exuberant, boring or just downright awful. It’s a part of the experience and I wish that more shows would continue to use them.

My first day of American Musical Theatre class in college, my professor, Stephen Kitsakos, played three as an example to give us a feel for the unending horizons of the musical landscape, as well as use it for a successful introduction to the class. The three he played were The Who’s Tommy, A Little Night Music and Guys and Dolls, (though he actually didn’t use the original overture for the latter, but “Runyonland” from the revival cast recording). When I became his TA I always wanted to toss in some of the ones listed below, but then again I’m always biased towards the greats. But I knew then that I was going to enjoy his class immensely, which I did.

Many of the great overtures are present on their cast albums. Some are truncated due to due the time contraints of the LP but odds are you can find a complete recording out there somewhere. Other recordings, such as Darling of the Day and On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, combined the overture and entr’acte for the cast recording (mostly an RCA practice). The original Mack and Mabel, a Gower Champion-directed production (who rarely used a traditional overture in his musicals) opened with a brief fanfare of “I Won’t Send Roses.” When they recorded the cast album, the entr’acte was recorded for the overture. The piece became overwhelmingly popular when Torvill and Dean used it for the 1982 World Championships, where they won the gold medal and ever since, the entr’acte is now officially the show’s overture.

Some of my favorites (alphabetically):

Candide
Funny Girl
Gypsy
High Spirits
Irma La Douce
Kismet
The Light in the Piazza
A Little Night Music
Mame
My Fair Lady
On the Twentieth Century
110 in the Shade
Pipe Dream
The Rothschilds
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
South Pacific

Yours?

Another "Coco" article…

Again from the San Francisco Chronicle (SFGate.com):

‘Coco’s’ music of chance
Edward Guthmann
Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Resurrecting “Coco” from the dead required ingenuity and detective work. According to Greg MacKellan, 42nd Street Moon’s co-artistic director, the show was never registered with Samuel French, Inc., or any other company that licenses performing rights for plays and musicals.
“We had to go to (lyricist) Alan Jay Lerner’s attorney to acquire the rights,” says MacKellan. Lerner died in 1986. “Unfortunately, no orchestrations existed and no piano score. There were a few songs published as sheet music, but they didn’t always match the routines in the show. There’s also some music in the show that’s not on the cast album.”

Luckily, the late Hershy Kay, orchestrator for the 1969 Katharine Hepburn production, had bequeathed a lot of piano vocal material to the Irving S. Gilmore Music Library at Yale University. Michael Horsley, 42nd Street Moon’s musical director, patched it all together, in some cases transcribing melodies and orchestrations from the “Coco” CD when he couldn’t find them in Kay’s papers.

“Fortunately,” MacKellan says, “the script was complete. We were also able to get the stage manager’s script from Lerner’s attorney.”

MacKellan says he always wanted Andrea Marcovicci to play Coco. She’d started her cabaret career at the Plush Room in the mid-’80s, played several starring roles at American Conservatory Theater in the early ’90s and headed the 42nd Street Moon production of “On a Clear Day You Can See Forever” in 1999.

When Hepburn sang the score, it was in the talk-singing idiom that Rex Harrison used in “My Fair Lady.” “We’re bringing the music back to the musical,” Marcovicci, 59, said at a recent “Coco” rehearsal. “No offense to Madame Hepburn, (but) there were very few of the melodies that she was able to actually deliver.”

Chanel’s emotional palette will also change in this production, Marcovicci promises. “From what I’m gathering of the Hepburn performance, she felt the defiance in the character. But the character is rich with pain, loss, ambivalence, joy, flirtatiousness, need, love. Every emotion under the sun. And defiance.”

Marcovicci had hoped to wear vintage Chanel onstage, but the Chanel organization declined to loan any clothes for this production. Instead, she says, “I am wearing vintage pieces from my own collection (including Givenchy, Valentino). And I’m wearing very serious pieces of costume jewelry from the ’30s through the ’50s.”

"Coco" receiving San Francisco revival

From the San Francisco Chronicle (SFGate.com):

‘Coco’ lives on (without Kate)
Edward Guthmann, Chronicle Staff Writer
Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Katharine Hepburn had no delusions about her singing voice. When she starred in “Coco,” her first and only Broadway musical, the actress was characteristically blunt about her performance. “I sound like Donald Duck,” she said when she heard the cast album.

That’s the way Rene Auberjonois, Hepburn’s co-star in the 1969 musical about French fashion designer Coco Chanel, remembers it. “Singing was not her strong suit,” he said in a recent phone interview. “She loved challenges and she trained very hard. But she couldn’t really do it.”

The critics agreed and yet, because of Hepburn’s star power the show became a media event and played to full houses. When Hepburn left the show in summer of 1970, however, and French actress Danielle Darrieux stepped in, “Coco” quickly closed. Apart from a summer stock tour in the early ’70s with Ginger Rogers, “Coco” has never been revived and is remembered, if at all, as miscalculated and overblown.

That didn’t stop Greg MacKellan, co-artistic director of 42nd Street Moon, a San Francisco stage company that specializes in obscure or little-seen musicals. Convinced that the show’s merits had been buried under Hepburn’s force of personality – “She was a great Hepburn, but not the ideal person to play Coco Chanel” – MacKellan set out to exhume “Coco” from its long interment.

MacKellan felt there was “a lovely score” by Andre Previn that had been scaled back to accommodate Hepburn’s musical limitations; in some cases, the melodies were dropped altogether. He also believed that the lyrics and book by Alan Jay Lerner (“My Fair Lady”), which situates Chanel in 1953 and 1954, when at 71 she attempts a comeback, were undervalued.

The 42nd Street Moon production, directed by Mark D. Kaufmann and starring Andrea Marcovicci as Chanel, opens Saturday at the Eureka Theatre for a two-week run. It’s a different species altogether from the unwieldy leviathan that starred Hepburn. Whereas the Broadway company had 40 performers, including a singing chorus separate from a dancing chorus, MacKellan’s “Coco” utilizes 15 cast members. Compared to the Broadway original, which cost $900,000, a Broadway record for its time, this incarnation is an intimate chamber piece. A piano is the only accompaniment, and the performers sing without mikes.

In retrospect, it’s stupefying that anyone envisioned Hepburn in a Broadway musical. Listening to the cast album is painful: In order to be heard above the orchestra, Hepburn bleats and shouts and Donald Ducks her way through the songs, obliterating any nuance or trace of pathos.

But Kate isn’t totally to blame. “Andre Previn was very, very upset about the way it was being recorded and by how much was being left out of the recording,” remembers Auberjonois. “At the time, you could only get a certain amount onto an LP record. In fact, they ended up compressing some of it so that we’re all singing faster than we sang in real life.”

If Hepburn’s musical abilities were deficient – nonexistent, really – her personal style was also a bad fit for her icon-of-glamour character. With her tomboy’s stride and her penchant for baggy gabardine trousers, sandals and high-necked shirts, Hepburn was anything but a fashion plate. “What I dread is dressing up,” she told Newsweek prior to the show’s opening. “I feel like Martha Washington.”

In retrospect, Kate-does-Coco makes as much sense as Courtney Love in a revival of “Hello, Dolly!” “When they told Coco Chanel that Hepburn was going to play her, she was thrilled,” MacKellan says, “because she thought they were talking about Audrey Hepburn. When she learned that it was Kate Hepburn she actually got very upset and refused to do any more for the show.”

It was Lerner who believed Hepburn was a plausible choice for “Coco,” and saw in her a defiance and originality that matched Chanel’s. “He and Hepburn were very friendly,” MacKellan says, “and they’d have parties and he’d convince her to sing a little. He’d say, ‘You should do a musical.’ And Hepburn would say, ‘If you ever get the right part, maybe I’ll consider it.’ “

During the ’50s and ’60s, a lot of non-singing actors and actresses were stretching their theatrical limbs in musicals. Vivien Leigh starred in “Tovarich,” Robert Ryan did Irving Berlin’s “Mr. President” and Anthony Perkins warbled in the short-lived “Greenwillow.” Rex Harrison had an enormous success in “My Fair Lady,” largely because he didn’t sing the role of Henry Higgins, but rather talk-sang it.

“Coco” rehearsals were embattled from the get-go, says Auberjonois. The British director, Michael Benthall, “was a friend of Kate’s but he was past his prime and really way over his head. The show was really directed by Michael Bennett, the choreographer.

Auberjonois played Sebastian Baye, a flamboyant costume designer and Coco’s nemesis. During rehearsals, he says, “Whenever I would do something outlandish or think up a piece of business, (Benthall) would say, ‘No no no, dear boy. You can’t do that.’ And Kate would say, ‘What are you talking about? He’s the only amusing thing in the show!’

“Kate would protect me and I give her full credit for allowing the role to become something that could be nominated for a Tony award.” In fact, Auberjonois won the award as featured actor in a musical, and was launched on a still-active career. He played in the Broadway musicals “Big River” and “City of Angels” and the TV series “Benson,” “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” and “Boston Legal.”

Hepburn never bullied her fellow actors, Auberjonois says, “but she was a terrible bully to the producers and to (costume designer) Cecil Beaton. If you read his autobiography, it’s devastating what he says about Hepburn. They had a real hate on for each other.” In his posthumously published diaries, Beaton called Hepburn an “untamed dog,” an “egomaniac” and “the most bossy of schoolteachers.”

Often, Hepburn gave Auberjonois a lift in her chauffeur-driven car, since he lived close to her East 49th Street house. “She would always make me come in and sit downstairs with her in the kitchen while she ate dinner after the show, and I would have ice cream with her. She was terrific. She was very kind to me.

“It was great to work with her. She set up this thing with me that whoever made a mistake or flubbed a line owed the other person $10. She would come stomping up the stairs to my dressing room with her hair rolled up in little pieces of newspaper and say, ‘Rene! Rene!’ She would come into my dressing room and pound the table and put a $10 bill down.

“Of course I needed the money and she didn’t,” Auberjonois says. “So I never made a mistake. It might have been her way of giving me a tip.”

Coco:

Previews Thursday and Friday. Opens Saturday and runs through May 11. Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson St. $22-$38. (415) 255-8207. www.42ndstmoon.org.

Where in the World is Lee Venora…?

As I listen to my ipod shuffle, Lee Venora‘s renditions of various songs from the Lincoln Center revivals of Kismet and The King and I keep popping up. I begin to wonder whatever happened to her. Her voice is a thrilling and grand operatic lyric soprano that just somehow manages to surpass that of Doretta Morrow (being a remarkable singer herself, no disrespect is intended), the singing actress that originated the roles of Marsinah and Tuptim. Hearing Venora take on the final ascending line of “My Lord and Master” is nothing short of breathtaking; or listening to how she takes the final solo reprise of “And This is My Beloved” and completely makes you forget anyone else ever in existence ever sang that song.

Her musical theatre record credits aren’t many: she recorded these two albums, the OBCR of Kean (on which she sings “Willow, Willow, Willow”, Wright and Forrest’s haunting musical setting of Othello’s “Willow Song”) and as Carrie on a studio cast album of Carousel, with Alfred Drake and Patrice Munsel in the leads. (The latter has never been released on CD). There’s also an easy-listening album of Show Boat, but I wonder if anyone’s ever heard that. My searches online are coming up with absolutely nothing, except that she has sung the role of Mimi in La Boheme and was also a soloist on various classical recordings, most notably Leonard Bernstein’s Mahler’s Symphonies.

One the Classiest Acts Around…

Tonight, I was browsing around aimlessly when I saw recent headlines about Cate Blanchett insisting on attending the 2020 arts summit in Australia, in spite of the fact she had given birth to her third son only a few days prior. To top it off, she brought little Ignatius along and as the little guy slept, he managed to steal the show (and Cate was given the moniker “Superwoman” by friend Hugh Jackman). It’s also a testament to her status as an actress vs. a celebrity. While she still can work a red carpet like the best of them, she’s not about to sink to others’ levels by hawking overpriced photos of her off-spring for the highest bidder. All the while managing to give superlative performances on film and onstage in varying genres; defying categorization or typing. And all the while doing it brilliantly and making it seem effortless. I kick myself for missing her Hedda at the Brooklyn Academy of Music a couple years back. Hopefully she’ll make a Broadway appearance one of these days. Until then, perhaps we should all save our pennies and see her in A Streetcar Named Desire when she plays Blanche in August 2009 at the Sydney Theatre Company.

So in my first count-down…

10 Random Reasons to love Cate Blanchett:

10. She’s not pimping out her newborn baby to the tabloids for exorbitant sums.
9. She’s in the upcoming Indiana Jones film. And she’s a complete bad-ass.
8. She practically fell out of her chair in excitement when Marion Cotillard won the Oscar this year.
7. She made a cameo in Hot Fuzz.
6. She played Bob Dylan. Probably better than anyone else could have.
5. She’s played Elizabeth I, Katharine Hepburn and Galadriel.
4. Unlike many others, she has not forsaken the stage.
3. She’s one of the most ridiculously talented people ever.
2. She’s an ardent supporter of the arts in her native Australia.
1. She’s Cate Blanchett. Period.

"La Fille du Regiment"

My unending thanks to Sarah for inviting me to the open house dress rehearsal of Donizetti’s La Fille du Regiment at the Met this morning. It was only my second time there, but what an extraordinary event (and one I’d like to do again and again). The production built around the French diva Natalie Dessay is nothing short of a vibrant joy. Fast and funny, it was a sheer pleasure from start to finish – and it was a “dress rehearsal.” I can only imagine the kind of magic that will emanate through that hallowed hall come opening night on Monday.

I have to admit, I wasn’t familiar with the opera prior to today. In fact, I had forgotten what I was seeing as I made a frenzied trip to NY this morning (don’t ask, it was too traumatic). I soon found out, and am now officially in love with the piece. A delectable opera comique by Donizetti (whose Lucia was a recent smash for Dessay in the same venue), this production was first done in Vienna and Covent Garden, and is now making (what will be) it’s triumphant Met debut. Seriously, the buzz is such that it sold out months ago. They keep it fresh and hilarious. Oh – and Marian Seldes has two marvelous cameos in the second act (non-singing). Who could ask for more?

Peruvian-born tenor Juan Diego Florez tackles the first act aria “Ah, mes amis” with such death defying technique that it seemed like no one wanted the opera to continue. There are nine high C’s in that aria. Yes NINE. HIGH C’S. And he nailed each and everyone with such ease, you’d have thought he was born singing this. I will never forget hearing that aria for the first time, and how I knew before it was over that the audience was going to go completely nuts. (In reading about it, his performance at La Scala in February 2007 broke the 74 year embargo on encores as he sang the entire aria – and nine high C’s for the enraptured audience). Dessay was in top form all around. A tomboyish and playful heroine, she relished in the physical comedy and athleticism in her characterization, tossing off coloratura trills while skipping around the stage, being tossed aloft and even in tantrum. I never thought I’d ever hear a tomboy expressed musically as a coloratura soprano. The match of the two leads was impeccable and find it hard to see or hear anyone else in the roles (all due respect to Pavarotti, Sutherland, Pons, et al). British mezzo-soprano Felicity Palmer was the Marquise and you know what? We could use a gem like her in grande dame musical comedy roles.

Afterwards, there was an enjoyable if slightly staid talk back session. Marian was marvelous as ever. Then Sally, Sarah and myself headed to O’Neals for lunch and a few drinks (and hours of endless conversation). A glorious afternoon.

Fortunately this production will be broadcast. This is from an earlier production of the opera (with Dessay & Florez).

UK Television segment on the opera (and its stars):

“Ah! Mes Amis”

“Chacun le Sait, Chacun le Dit”

“Salut a la France”

"It’s a New Old World…"


On this day three years ago I attended my first-ever Broadway opening night. It was also the night I fell madly in love with a new musical; a feeling that I had never experienced before nor since. The show: The Light in the Piazza.

It was an interesting progression for me. I was familiar with the film adaptation of Elizabeth Spencer’s original novella when it played on TCM a few years before. It starred Olivia de Havilland and Yvette Mimieux, respectively, as the mother and her daughter on vacation in Florence, Italy. George Hamilton was Fabrizio, who came off lecherous rather than romantic – to the point where I was actually disappointed the two got together. Rossano Brazzi was his father. It wasn’t a spectacular film, but it featured a stellar performance from de Havilland and beautiful CinemaScope cinematography (shot on location).

Anyway, as I heard this was being adapted as a stage musical, I was instantly intrigued at the prospect. I’d never really heard Adam Guettel before. I knew about Floyd Collins and that he was Richard Rodgers’ grandson, but that was it. I vaguely followed the musical while it was out of town, my interest piqued because I had recently seen Victoria Clark in performance for the first time in the Broadway production of Urinetown, in which she briefly assumed the role of Penelope Pennywise. Hearing her knock “It’s a Privilege to Pee” out of the ballpark remains one of my favorite discoveries of a talent ever. The song is mostly high belting, but it culminates in an operatic high C. From my vantage point mid mezzanine at the old Henry Miller’s I could hear her acoustic sound. Needless to say, I was very impressed.

When time came for the show to come into New York, I very calmly yet honestly told everyone it was the musical I was looking forward to the most. The out of town reviews were mixed to positive, but it was a work in progress so I expected continued work. Vicki earned raves for her characterization of Margaret Johnson and was supported by Celia Keenan-Bolger as her daughter, initially in Seattle at the Intiman (where Sher is artistic director) and in Chicago at the Goodman.

It was Lincoln Center Theatre who brought the musical to Broadway as part of their 2005 season. Noah went to a preview and called raving about and I knew that we were onto something special here. I followed his lead and joined the student ticketing program on the Lincoln Center website and proceeded to look for my $20 seat. When performing my search I did a double take when I saw they were offering the opening night performance for sale (While roaming through Lincoln Center on the day of the show, I would discovered the opening night performance was on TKTS). Well, I snatched that up immediately. My seat was in the rear of the Loge, but that didn’t matter for that price and the opportunity.

I’d only done the closing of the Bernadette Peters Gypsy prior to this, so my experience with high energy theatrical events was considerably limited. But there in the lobby of the Vivian Beaumont I watched as John Lithgow, Helen Hunt, Marc Shaiman, Scott Wittman, Adam Guettel, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Peter Sarsgaard, Frank Rich roamed about while Mary Rodgers Guettel stood receiving people like royalty.

The uniqueness of this experience is pretty much beyond the mere use of words. I can draw out all the adjectives I know: resplendent, ethereal, cathartic, et al. to describe what is was like for me. But none can ever do justice to the emotional impact that was delivered. I made fast friends with an aspiring actress and her friend next to me. There was the hat placed downstage center on the bench with a pin spot. The cell phone announcement wonderfully delivered in Italian by Felicity LaFortune. Then down came the house lights. And that overture started. A simple harp gliss with a hint of tension building from other instruments which released into the main “Light” theme. I knew within seconds – and this is a rare occurrence – that I was going to love this new musical. And I did. I immersed myself in the beauty and grace of the musical’s staging and scenography. I am forever a fan of Bartlett Sher. One thing about that opening night performance I will specifically never forget is how “Dividing Day” completely devastated me.

The actors were stellar, such legit singing on Broadway, though I was thrown by the more pop sounding Matthew Morrison as Fabrizio, though admittedly, he grew on me during the run. Kelli O’Hara was the perfect embodiment of the child-like Clara, creating a character of nuance and ambiguity that complemented Clark’s Margaret (her replacement Katie Rose Clarke, embodied the childish aspects of the character as well, but was nowhere near O’Hara on the acting and singing fronts). But the entire performance was centered around Clark’s tour de force as Margaret, giving a devastatingly beautiful performance that ranks among the best I have ever seen in my theatregoing life.

The first act ended with the gorgeous “Say it Somehow” with that coda and gasp-inducing black out. The second act ended with “Fable.” The audience went wild. I mean we went completely nuts – the entire house was on its feet before a single person re-entered for their curtain call. And another theatrical first: after the actors made their exit, our applause continued and continued. In fact grew louder and we would only cease once Messrs. Guettel, Sher and Lucas made a bow. I had a feeling akin to sailing, I think. A natural high. I had been both moved and affected by this work of art which to me was challenging but accessible.

I like to consider 4.18.05 the night I rediscovered my lost romanticism. As I left the Beaumont, I was already on my cell phone to Noah, proclaiming “Oh my God, this is the best new musical I’ve ever seen.” And he proceeded to read me back a rave review from Broadway.com. I strolled by the fountain at Lincoln Center in a daze, almost walking into Mr. & Mrs. Peter Boyle, Mike Nichols and Diane Sawyer, who were attending a Dustin Hoffman celebration at Avery Fisher Hall. I watched a rather attractive young couple walk by the fountain, also having emerged from Avery Fisher. The gentleman placed his topcoat over the shoulders of his lover with such tenderness and care that I could and only pause and smile. Truth be told, I’d been more likely to roll my eyes and scoff, but then again, it’s much easier to be a cynic than a romantic, no?

The score was unlike anything I could have anticipated. Orchestrated with as many strings as there are stars in the skies. (I’m a wee bit prone to hyperbole, sue me). All woodwinds save the flute and piccolo, which added just a tinge of melancholy to the score’s sound. And of course there’s that harp, that gorgeous harp around which the entire orchestration is built. I would venture a guess that I’ve listened to this score more times than any other. There were five months where the CD rarely left my player. And the repeat button was on. And repeat listenings/viewings only unraveled more and more depth and skill in the music and lyrics. (I know some people loathed the lyrics, but I admired their dramatic honesty and simplicity). Guettel as a musical composer managed to create a hybrid of the Rodgers & Hammerstein and the Sondheim schools of musical theatre, infused with a neo-classicist stream of consciousness in the flow of the melody.

It was also the night I became an ardent fan and supporter of the Lincoln Center Theatre, a non-profit company that is not afraid to take artistic risks and not afraid to spare any expense when they believe in a work. The show would eventually win six Tony awards – the most of any show that year – including a deserved sweep in the scenographic categories: Lighting, Scenic and Costume Design (the combination of the elements made me feel as though I was actually in Florence). The show was also awarded for its rich orchestrations, score and the coup d’grace: Best Actress in a Musical for Victoria Clark, whose performance in the role will one day be considered legendary. The show may have lost the Best Musical Tony, but it had already won Best Musical of my Heart – sentimental, yes, but I’ve never given that designation to any other show.

The 2004-05 season became a joyous one with four solid shows opening towards the end of the season, three of which were Spamalot, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and the fourth was Piazza, which became a surprise hit for LCT and warranted several extensions past its original June closing date (eventually extending its run by 54 weeks). By the time it closed on June 2, 2006, it had played 504 performances at the Vivian Beaumont. It would shortly thereafter launch a year-long national tour starring Christine Andreas and Elena Shaddow.

For the first time, I was compelled to go back to a Broadway show. Even when I thought of it prior, I had for whatever reason decided not to. But I returned, and returned. By the time of the closing (which, yes, I also attended) I had seen the musical 12 times. Can you believe it? And no, I don’t regret spending the money on it at all. If I could have, I would have gone back many, many more times. At this point, I do have to thank my friends who were so wonderful putting up with my year and four months of complete and total obsession. I wanted everyone to see this show, hear this score and could talk of little else. I took my a good friend to the closing performance who had listened to me harp on about the show for well over a year. He soon learned that I was rather calm in comparison to the woman to his left (who shouted “MATT!” at Matthew Morrison, who was in the audience for the last show, until he turned and gave her a quick wave). The only new musical to open since that I have appreciated nearly as much was Grey Gardens. I only hope it won’t be too long until a new musical captures my undivided attention.

The Light in the Piazza was a rare experience, and one which will forever hold a special place in my mind and soul. April 18th will always be an incredibly poignant and nostalgic date for me.

Here is Vicki Clark as Margaret Johnson performing the incandescent finale, “Fable.”