MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS The Honor Roll - Part 1

MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS

The Honor Roll - Part 1

Over the past nearly half-century, I have seen many, many musicals. Some I was neutral towards; a few I hated; most I liked; some I loved and a select few I really, really loved. Those select few make up my list of my top twenty-five musicals. Like my selection of my top twenty-five plays, this list is completely subjective. These are musicals I like, not influenced either by critical acclaim or critical disdain. These musicals run the gamut from high-profile mega-hits to modest successes to, well, financial failures. Despite their position in the financial plus or minus column, though, each of these shows holds a special place in my theatre-going heart. Shows that speak to me, that inspire me, that delight me. Perhaps some of these are your favorites as well.

I'll begin this series with the fifteen shows that make up my musical Honor Roll. Because this will be a lengthy post, I'll only chat about one show today, the phenomenal 1776.

1776 - Music and Lyrics by Sherman Edwards, Book by Peter Stone

For decades, Sherman Edwards' and Peter Stone's remarkable musical based on the events leading up to the signing of the Declaration of Independence was my most-seen show. (Note: Follies is now most-seen show by a comfortable margin.) Between December, 1970 and May, 1972 I saw the show eleven times. During its Chicago run, I auditioned for the First National Company to replace the Leather Apron and understudy the Courier. (see Sidebar 1) In 1975, I played the Courier in a production at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. (see Sidebar 2) I enjoyed the film version. Surprisingly, this show is rarely professionally produced and somehow Bob and I missed the Roundabout revival in the late 1990s, so it wasn't until this year, 2013, that I saw my first professional production of 1776 after a span over forty-one (!!) years.

Happily, time has not diminished my love for this wonderful show. Peter Stone's book is rock-solid, often thought-provoking and frequently funny, with the character of Ben Franklin getting most of the choicer bon mots. Sherman Edwards' score briskly moves the plot along with terrific character songs, a frightening paean to conservatism ("Cool, Cool, Considerate Men"), a truly lovely ballad ("Yours, Yours, Yours") and a thrilling, no holds barred eleven o'clock number ( "Molasses to Rum"). It's a triumphant score by any standards and, sadly, Edwards' only Broadway contribution except for providing incidental music for a play in 1960. What is most impressive to me is the fact that this show is not afraid to have lengthy book scenes when such scenes are necessary to provide the proper dramatic arc and flow. What's even more impressive, and especially noticed when we saw the show most recently, was that audience was involved and engrossed during these lengthy scenes. That is a tribute not only to the talents of the cast, but also to the strength of Mr. Stone's book. If only all U.S. history could be so entertaining!

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December, 1970. My introduction to this amazing show. I loved everything about it. Peter Stone's book, Sherman Edwards' score, Patricia Zipprodt's costumes, Jo Meilziner's lighting and set and the incredible cast of actors who brought this story to vivid life. Irish actor Patrick Bedford, not to be confused with Brian Bedford, was a fiery John Adams, yet revealed a refreshing softness in his scenes with his wife, Abigail, beautifully played by a favorite of mine, Barbara Lang. And look who was in the cast…a young George Hearn as the Conservative's conservative, John Dickinson. Fun factoid: Rex Everhart, who  was deliciously tart as Benjamin Franklin, is the Franklin on the original Broadway cast recording of 1776. Howard Da Silva, the original Franklin ,was ill for the first few weeks of the New York run. As Da Silva's standby, Everhart took over and since cast recordings back then were traditionally recorded the first Sunday after opening, when the show was dark (Sunday matinees were a rare exception on Broadway and not the rule in those days), his interpretation of Franklin has been immortalized on the superlative original cast recording.  This was the First National Company, which opened in the spring of 1970 and played through 1972. Amazingly, it closed with Bedford, Everhart and Lang still playing their original roles. Amazing because today for a leading actor to stay in a show for six months is more or less standard; for that actor to stay a year is considered a long run; for that actor to stay over two years is all but unheard of. This was also my introduction to the vibrant Milwaukee theatre scene. Uihlein Hall was only about one year old when this tour breezed through and I became enamored of its sleek, somewhat cold design that seemed both large and intimate. I would see many shows there over the years. And as if that weren't enough, I met Barbara Lang's mother and (very hot) brother on the C&NW train back to Waukegan (they went on to Chicago). - at Uihlein Hall, Milwaukee, WI

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October, 1971 - May, 1972. By the time the First National Company of 1776 took up residence at the Shubert Theatre for a seven-month stay, Edmund Lyndeck had assumed the role of Dickinson and a few other characters were being acted by different folks than the ones I had seen in Milwaukee ten months earlier. During the Chicago run further replacements were made, but Patrick Bedford, Rex Everhart, Barbara Lang, and Michael Davis, the Broadway veteran who was superb as "Molasses to Rum" Edward Rutledge, were with the show the entire run and only seemed to grow in stature as the run progressed. As you can see from the ticket stub display, I saw the Shubert production more than a few times. One could say I was a wee bit obsessed with it. Just a bit. By the time the film version came out, I had become so used to Patrick Bedford's outstanding portrayal of John Adams, that I was initially a bit put off by William Daniels' (the original John Adams) performance. Fun sidebar: All of the Adams/Abigail scenes are exchanges of letters with both actors onstage reacting to, but not necessarily reacting with, the other actor, if that makes sense. Well, anyway, in the first Adams/Abigail scene, Adams is describing how other members of the Congressional Congress feel about him. As he lists his perceived faults, Abigail enters and responds to this list of unflattering comments. At the final performance, Bedford read off the first negative comment, but no response from Abigail. Barbara Lang had missed her entrance. Being a pro, he continued reading off the list and at the very last possible second, Lang hurried onstage and delivered her line to the obvious relief of Bedford. By this time, of course, I knew there had been an oops, but it's a credit to the professionalism of both Bedford and Lang that no one in the audience had a clue anything was amiss.  This show was such an important part of my early adulthood. - at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar 1: Auditioning for the First National Company. I had no clue how to go about this. I did it, frankly, on a dare. As I remember, this was an open call, first come, first served. I was so unprepared.  I was so young (21). I was so naïve. I had a hastily typed-up resume, but no headshot. By this time in my collegiate career, I knew I didn't want to act professionally, so why have one?  My resume was a paltry affair:  all educational theatre, and not even much of that, and one local summer theatre credit when I was still in high school. Everyone around me had much more impressive resumes. Everyone around me was oozing actor confidence and assurance. Me? I wanted to escape. But then I heard my name called and it was too late. The show's musical director, Glen Clugston, was at the piano and when he saw I didn't have any music with me (who knew I would need music?), asked me what I wanted to sing. Well, Clugston had recently been the musical director for multiple productions of The Fantasticks and everyone  in my group backstage up to that point had sung the same damn 16 bars of "Try to Remember." I shrugged and asked, "Can I sing the song from the show, "Momma, Look Sharp?" (God, I can't believe how clueless I was!). Was I mistaken or did I detect a look of relief from Mr. Clugston? He agreed and suddenly I found myself on the stage of the Shubert Theatre on the legendary Jo Mielziner's amazing set. Oddly enough, I wasn't panicked. I sang what I thought were 16 bars, thanked the People in the Dark and started to walk offstage. Suddenly from the house I heard, "Where are you going?" Huh? Me: "Uh…"  People in the Dark: "Could you sing the entire song for us?" Huh??? Me: "Uh, sure." And I did. The entire song. All of it. And as I did, I could see two of the People in the Dark move closer to the stage. WTF? I finished. People in the Dark: "Thank you. That was great." Me (in a daze): "You're welcome. Thank you." and I scurried off the stage to be met by a "good job" and beaming smile from Glen Clugston and some glares from the other auditionees. And that, as they say, was that. That was my only professional audition to date. Since you don't see my name on a Broadway marquee, I obviously didn't book the gig. And that's show biz, kids.

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September, 2013. It took over forty-one years for me to see another professional production of 1776. The moment I read on Playbill.com that this was being produced at San Francisco's A.C.T., I immediately ordered tickets. We went to the first preview. Magnificent! Not a weak link in the sizable cast. Great physical production. A few minor technical items need to be addressed and there was the occasional odd directorial choice by Frank Galati, especially in the Adams/Abigail scenes and the odd entrance-exit choice for the Courier, but overall this Broadway-caliber performance was a thrilling evening at the theatre. We even saw a Chicago face in the cast: Jarrod Zimmerman, who was the only true bright spot as Oscar in the otherwise sad production of "Sweet Charity" last winter at Writers' (see an earlier post). He played Rutledge and knocked the exciting and difficult "Molasses to Rum" out of the proverbial ballpark. Well done, Jarrod! Intelligent. Stirring. Unforgettable. Bravo, A.C.T. - at the Geary Theatre (A.C.T.), San Francisco

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Sidebar 2: The Courier in Kentucky. It may surprise you to learn that military bases, at least U.S. Army bases, have active arts programs. Over the years I was active in the theatre program at Fort Sheridan, IL, near my then-home of Waukegan. The Army sponsors the U.S. Army Festival of the Arts and the Fort Campbell production of 1776 was Fort Campbell's entry in 1975. My good friend Joe was the musical director for the  show (he had moved from Waukegan to Hopkinsville, KY, near Fort Campbell, with his then-boyfriend for reasons that elude me now.) Joe encouraged me to try out for the Courier. I figured what the hell. It'd be a fun weekend with friends if nothing else. I had absolutely no illusions that I would actually get the part. I did. (Full disclosure: according to Joe, what tipped the scales in my favor was that I could say my eleven lines and sing the song without a trace of a southern accent. Well, duh! I'm a northern Illinois boy.) I flew down to Fort Campbell twice to rehearse the Courier's scene, then went down for the final ten days of rehearsal and the four performances. It was rough going. I felt I was miscast. The song went to the very top of my range and I didn't feel I was singing it well. The cast, while pleasant enough, treated me as though I were an outsider. (Well, I was.) I wanted to quit. I didn't. I got better in the part. My voice adapted to the vocal demands of the song. I worked hard and cooperatively and eventually the cast warmed up to the "Yankee infiltrator." And on the last night, after my song, I got up from my perch (John Adams' desk) that hung over the orchestra pit, stepped back behind the curtain line and stood in darkness as the curtain fell on Act One. Dead silence. And then thunderous applause. Thirty-eight years later, that performance remains the finest work I have ever done onstage. I am intensely proud of it.

March, 1975. The Courier. Beautiful set. Exquisite costumes built specifically for us so they fit like gloves. Mine was a combination of corduroy and cotton that was hot as hell under the stage lights. Authentic, yes, but, damn! The cast, a combination of civilians and active military, were all personable, talented folks. Our Abigail Adams, Nancy Moffitt, was especially luminous. It was a thrill to work with these people. - Fort Campbell Community Theatre, Fort Campbell, KY

Sidebar 3: Some fun stuff specific to doing theatre on an Army base. First…cast listings. In Army theatre, if you're active military (or a reservist), your rank is shown, hence SP5, 1LT, etc. At Fort Sheridan, if you were a dependent, say spouse or child, of active military personnel, you would have (DEP) after your name, e.g. Jeffrey Geddes (DEP). If you were a civilian working on the base, you'd have (DAC) after your name. If you were a plain, old civilian, you would either have nothing after your name or (CIV). At Fort Sheridan, I was either Jeffrey Geddes (CIV) or just Jeffrey Geddes. I'm not sure if it was a requirement, but as a director at Fort Sheridan I was strongly encouraged to cast at least one active military member, preferably more, depending on the cast size. DEPs counted, but didn't score as many "points." There was also an unwritten protocol when working with or addressing military personnel, especially when dealing with those of different ranks. As a director, I tend to call my actors by their first names rather than by their character names. However, if I was staging a scene between an enlisted soldier and an officer, for example, the dialogue would go something like this: "Private Jones, I'd like you to cross to Major Smith. Major, take the letter from the Private and then cross center." It sounds a bit stiff and formal, but it soon became second-nature. Even in the collaborative environment of the theatre, rank was still, well, rank. It wasn't snobbish; it was just the way things were done.

Celebrate the upcoming week by planning on attending a live performance. More later....Ta.