About the Composer

This past Sunday was a date I’d been anticipating for months. As part of the City Arts and Lectures series here in San Francisco, Stephen Sondheim sat down with Frank Rich for a thoroughly spontaneous and entertaining hour-and-a-half discussion.

Now, I’ve read and heard so many interviews and similar Sondheim talks over the years, so there was very little new information for me, but this is my first opportunity to sit through one in person. Sondheim was upbeat, forthcoming and very funny; a true mensh.

Here are some tidbits of information offered by Mr. Sondheim that was indeed new to me, in stream-of-consciousness order:

• The accompaniment in the song “The Little Things You Do Together” from Company is as jumpy as it is, because Sondheim wrote the song while on a cruise ship that was listing drastically as he worked out the accompaniment.
• As he worked in an unoccupied lounge on the ship, passengers would come in and sit down, enjoying what they thought was a performance, despite what must have been a lot of stopping and starting and noodling, etc.
• Sondheim has very recently abandoned the idea of adapting the film Ground Hog Day into a musical, to the disappointment of many
• Elaine Stritch in a bar at 2am: “Bartender, just give me a bottle of vodka and a floorplan.”
• Sondheim thinks the film Vertigo is overrated. This was before a San Francisco audience, mind you. I don’t quite agree with that, but I would say that the film is entirely carried by the score.
• Vertigo is one of Frank Rich’s favorite films. (There you go: conflict=drama)

I’m kicking myself violently for not springing for a bigger ticket that would have included a private dinner with Mr. Sondheim at Absinthe afterwards. There were two left when I bought my ticket. Why? I don’t know. The San Francisco Chronicle apparently didn’t see this as a worthwhile event to cover, which baffles me, but then my big complaint when I first moved here in 1994 was that no one knows who Stephen Sondheim is.

Incidentally, I’m also a big fan of Frank Rich, who, if you’re not familiar, was a New York Times theater critic in the 1980’s — the so-called “Butcher of Broadway”. His memoir Ghost Light was a must-read for me as a fellow Washingtonian and theater fan.

It is well known among Sondheim kooks such as myself that Stephen Sondheim’s favorite among his own songs is “Someone in a Tree” from the 1976 musical Pacific Overtures. I love this song too, but it’s never been clear to me exactly why it stands out in particular for Sondheim.

Briefly, the song attempts to deal with a particular event that’s important to the piece, but not particularly dramatic. Sondheim even calls it a “song about nothing” (which is very interesting in these post-Seinfeld times). What’s interesting about the song is the reciter’s setup line: “No one knows what happened in the treaty house.” The solution is to tell the story from three points of view: 1) An old man who remembers watching from the top of a tree when he was a boy; 2) That same old man as a 10-year-old boy; and 3) A soldier hiding under the floorboards of the treaty house.

The old man and the boy report what they’ve seen. The soldier reports what he’s heard. It’s a brilliant use of time and space in a theatrical moment.

The first video below is a very young Frank Rich interviewing Sondheim and his collaborator John Weidman in Sondheim’s house, presumably during the (extremely brief) run of the original Broadway production. In this video discusses in depth how the song came about and why he loves it so much. He also talks about the repetitive accompaniment figure, and how it came about.

The second video is a continuation of the first, where Sondheim accompanies the four cast members involved in a reading of the song.

Now, here’s the song as it looked in it’s full production.

Just a personal note about all this. I’m literally kvelling that YouTube has made it possible to see all of this. I had once before seen the second video, with the actors in Sondheim’s house, at a Sondheim-kook event here in San Francisco many years ago, but I did not know of the existence of the first part. I used to think I’d seen every Sondheim interview that exists on video. I also have to say that it’s really fun to see what the inside of his house looks like (or at least what it looked like in 1976).

Why am I so uninterested in the new Sweeney Todd movie? It’s as much a surprise to me as it is to anyone who knows me. I remember being excited about it about 15 years ago when there began to be noise about a Tim Burton adaptation, but in recent years I’ve lost interest.

The original stage version of Sweeney Todd is a masterpiece, and I’ve written before about how my first exposure to it put me on the path toward being a composer. Over many years I’ve studied the score so thoroughly and seen so many productions, some good and some bad, that I don’t think I can ever get excited about it again. It’s not just this film adaptation I’m down on; I’m normally loathe to go and see new stage productions as well. It’s also not that I don’t think the original 1979 Harold Prince production can’t be improved upon, but that happens so rarely.

Also, I hate violence in movies (everywhere, really). I have no tolerance for it. I’m not sure why I find it more acceptable on stage, but I do. On stage, it’s a play and it’s about characters, whereas judging from the trailers and reviews, the violence is more front and center here, and can’t imagine that would add anything new or constructive. I’m a little concerned that the new audience for the piece brought about by the film will only see the blood and not the characters or the ingenious musical dramaturgy.

From the excerpts I’ve heard, the film version seems vocally miscast. This music demands strong voices. Even if, through the magic of mixing, we can have Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter compete with a full orchestra, it sounds weird to me, because the energy of an actor projecting on stage (even an amplified one) is missing. And, no, it’s not just the nature of a movie musical. Listen to Topol in the film version of Fiddler on the Roof (the best-ever film adaptation of a musical in my opinion).

I will see the film, probably on DVD in a few months. Despite whatever may bug me about it, it clearly offers a new look. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

What About the Recent Stage Revival?
I was more excited about the recent revival that was on here in San Francisco a few months ago. What I really can’t stand is when “new” productions basically just ape the original Harold Prince staging. This one had a new angle, and I found it thoroughly entertaining (mainly as someone familiar with the piece), because there was a sort of new sub-plot going on: the instrumental parts are played by actors on stage. So, in addition to being able to hear a really nifty, new orchestration, there’s this circus-like feel of watching the actors navigate transitions from playing to acting and back, and in some cases switching from instrument to instrument.

Unfortunately, the price of that (originally cost-cutting) gimmick is that those in the audience who are unfamiliar with the piece get shortchanged in a couple of ways. For one thing, particularly in the minor roles, the casting tended to skew toward competent instrumental playing, which made for some slightly amateurish acting performances, although the leads were top-notch. But there was also a weird disconnect among the actors. Since they were playing instruments they often couldn’t make eye contact with each other or the audience, so there was a sort of detachment about their performances.

Still, I love that production for at least attempting something different.

Other Productions?
Two other productions of Sweeney Todd stand out in my memory as being new and interesting. One was an early-90’s offering by Signature Theater in Arlington, Va., which was staged in a “black box” environment. Not only was it “in the round”, but the audience seating was arranged such that the action took place among the audience, if you can picture that. It was intensely creepy. And new.

Then there was the San Francisco Symphony “concert” version bringing George Hearn back to the title role. The semi-staging by Lonny Price, where action was played on platforms above and among the orchestra, was as effective as any full staging, and the power of the full orchestra made the drama soar.

It had been years since I’ve looked at it, but I’ve had the vocal score of Sweeney Todd out for the past couple of weeks, having just seen the revival currently on at American Conservatory Theatre (extended for still one more week).

Years ago I used to spend hours with this score, so it’s kind of like an old friend. Right now I don’t really have time to play with it, so it’s just sitting there staring at me all day. Funny thing though: since I’ve had it out, I’ve completed two Eros at Breakfast songs, and I’m now closing in on a third. Normally I’m a hopeless slowpoke. I think on some level I know the score is watching me, and I don’t want to let it down.

Let’s call it “The Sweeney Effect”

Throughout the year I’ve been occasionally posting recordings of songs from my earlier musical The Ghost of Wu. Today’s installment is the song “You Must Learn”, in which an ambitious mother lectures her naïve daughter, a concubine, in the ways of the Emperor’s court.

This song is probably the most Sondheim-derivative thing I’ve ever written. When I was a student, all of my music was completely derivative, and over the years I learned how to avoid that to some degree. This is a rare case where I was not only being openly derivative, but I actually knew what I was doing. If you know your Sondheim, you will surely recognize the influence.

(download)
4′12″

The lyrics are mine too, by the way. You can follow them and the score if you’d like on this dedicated page.

By the way, there’s a running index of all the songs I’ve posted so far on this page.

This is asking for trouble; I’m sure of it. In recent days a large number of people have found this site by way of a Google search on the words “sondheim like that”, mostly from the Washington, D.C. area.

Someone please tell me what this means. Should I also be Googling this phrase?

Time to roll out another song from The Ghost of Wu.

Composed in the summer or fall of 2002, Welcome Home is probably my favorite song from Wu; certainly the one I’m most proud of for both music and lyrics. It’s an ensemble number for womens chorus.

Following a tumultuous journey from her village to the Emperor’s court, Wu is met by gentle chorus of concubines welcoming her into the Emperor’s harem. During the course of the song, they transform her from a simple country girl into an elegant member of their circle.

Audio, lyrics and the score are all right here.

And now, another song from The Ghost of Wu. “The Ways of the Young” is a bit more of a comedy number, although I’m afraid it might only be funny on paper.

By early in Act II of The Ghost of Wu, Wu Chao has succeeded in becoming Empress, having removed the Emperor’s first wife from the picture. But she is not satisfied. She’s been trying to convince her husband to decree that upon his death, Wu will assume the powers of the Emperor herself, instead of their son.

Kaozong insists on checking with his Confucian advisors, whom Wu views as stuffy and out of touch. In “The Ways of the Young”, we see the Confucians from Wu’s point of view: as foolish old men with nothing useful to say, and certainly no solutions.

Between verses of the song the Confucians toss coins and consult the I Ching for guidance in this matter. The answer, it turns out, isn’t particularly helpful.”

A word about the lyrics. This song, written in 2001 or so, marks the beginning of my journey from fixing other people’s lyrics out of sheer necessity (usually for musical reasons) to actually calling myself a lyricist and taking it on myself, which is a fairly recent development. In this case, a lot of the best material is from the original given to me by my playwright collaborator Donna Kaulkin, but that version lacked formal cohesion that I needed, so I fleshed it out a bit. Mainly, I claim the final verse, which I wrote because I felt the song needed a coda. It’s pretty flawed, but I like the way it ties everything up. I’ve gotten better since then.

The lyrics and MP3 can be found on the song’s own page. Check it out here.

Since I’ve been crowing about writing a musical, and have nothing to show for it yet, I thought it would be fun to blow the dust off of some songs from my last musical The Ghost of Wu.

The first song I’m presenting is maybe the most, uh, presentable, in that it’s just a song. Many of the others are elaborate ensemble numbers or involve bits of dialogue between verses, and that makes them a bit more work to listen to. I’ll get to them too, but it seems like a good idea to start with the simple stuff.

So, please have a listen to The World Rolls On. Audio and lyrics after the jump.

Two items:

1. Am I the only one who didn’t know that Stephen Sondheim composed incidental music for the Public Theater’s current production of King Lear with Kevin Kline. (Thanks for the tip, Mom!)
2. Set your Tivo! Sondheim has a cameo in this Sunday’s episode of The Simpsons. It’s possible there’s something wrong with a world in which Stephen Sondheim and Andy Dick are on the same list of credits.