There are some things you only do for money. Prostitution and teaching in a juvenile detention center are high on the list. I think dressing in that spider costume from Tarzan might be on there somewhere as well (but no judgments). Selling drugs is high on that list too, I think, and if you're under eighteen, it comes with no 401K but a great free meal plan in a juvenile detention center.
Let me start at the beginning. I first encountered Jason Robert Brown's song "Stars and the Moon" on Audra McDonald's first solo CD, Way Back to Paradise. In fact, hearing his work on that album was one of the main reasons I made it to Parade on tour (that and seeing the performance on the Tony Awards).
"Stars and the Moon" is a song about a woman who wants to marry for money. On the road of life, she encounters men who offer her excitement, romance, and adventure, but they don't have what she really wants in life. Finally, she accepts the proposal of a rich man who provides her with a life of the rich and indulgent. By the end of the song, however, she looks back on her life of wealth and security and realizes all the things she's missed out on. It's a beautiful and moving song, starting with a soothing and memorable piano intro, and topped, of course, by McDonald's stunning voice and interpretation.
I first taught "Stars and the Moon" to low-ability sophomores my first two years of teaching. In that class, I was always trying new works to pull the kids in. Some things were effective--Sherman Alexie, short plays, short stories dealing with gangs--some things were not--Maya Angelou, anything in the literature book, anything long. When I first selected it, my principal was coming to observe me, and I wanted something good. "Stars and the Moon" was just the thing.
I began by having my kids draw pictures of what they wanted their life to look like in fifteen years (it was always the big car, the big house, all the money), and then we'd share. When we got to the song, which I'd always play for them as they read along, we discussed the different sections of the song--looking at what each of the men are offering (i.e. what is "the open road" representing, what is meant by the stars and the moon). Then we discussed the ending, exploring how she could be unhappy after getting exactly what she wanted. After that, we evaluated the message of the song and kids shared ideas about what is of more value, the stars and the moon or champagne.
Okay, so I'm not exactly doing justice to the lesson here, but it may help to know that my principal was very impressed with the selection, and essentially for the same reason I was, because it would speak to the kids at their level without talking down to them. There was some new vocabulary in the song, but it wasn't so far beyond them that they couldn't comprehend it. And it was high interest. Best of all, the kids really liked the song and enjoyed getting to share their ideas about the concepts in it.
"Stars and the Moon" has come in handy at all the schools I've taught at. When I taught a discussion class, I used it as a basis for the kids to enter into a discussion (and my singers were all writing down the name of the song and songwriter for later use). When I taught middle school, I used it in a unit with Our Town as a pre-read activity to get the kids thinking about what in life is of value. I also used it once in an eleventh grade unit on The Great Gatsby as a related work. The Great Gatsby is about the American Dream, and "Stars and the Moon" ties in so beautifully with that concept.
The most interesting response to the song, however, was when I taught summer school at a juvenile detention center. Talk about a horrible place to teach. The first day on the job was a training on self-defense techniques--what to do if a knife is held up to your back, what to do if a student has you by your hair, that sort of thing. We learned the different emergency codes to use (one was if you needed a student removed from your classroom, the other if you needed emergency assistance from about everyone in the building--I used that one once).
I'm an idealist, and as much as teaching wore me out more than inspired me, I really worked hard for my kids. I always put in 110% and really longed to inspire and motivate my students to become more than what they imagined they could be (I am, at heart, a nurturer).
But let me tell you, it was hard there. As everyone young and naive (or is that stupid?--I was 30) thinks, I really felt like I had the chance to change their lives. But as the days wore on, I realized the chances of that happening were slim to none. Dean (not his real name), for example, started out really eager to do work, to read, to engage in conversation, but then two days later, he was belligerent and rude and remained that way the whole five weeks. Mitch informed me that when he got out he'd go back to dealing drugs because that was the easiest thing to do and the whole time refused to do any work, to focus, or to even be pleasant. Little John was in for spray-painting a police car (he was about fourteen), and though he wanted acceptance more than anything, he could not earn anything but scorn from the older kids. He would certainly never do anything as un-cool as be respectful or do work.
And it wasn't a question of me being nice. I was so nice to those kids and did everything I knew how to do to bond with and engage them, but for the most part, it just didn't work.
When I wound up with about forty-five minutes at the end of the day with no district-endorsed curriculum (though I quickly learned the district-endorsed curriculum was worthless for these particular students anyway), I decided to round up some songs to teach. I wanted to find songs that had some literary depth to them but would speak to something about their situation in life--give them hope, give them motivation, inspire them.
I don't remember all the songs I used, but the one that the kids liked best was undoubtedly "Stars and the Moon." Here's a room with eight or so really tough kids, most of them people of color, and I'm playing for them a song performed by operatic Audra McDonald. And they liked it!
There was one kid, Jimmy, who would close his eyes and move his head to the music, playing an imaginary piano. He was trying to get a response from the other kids, but at the same time, I could tell he was connected with the music. After discussing it, he said, "That was a good song." And he wanted me to play it again.
At the end of the summer, five weeks after I had originally played "Stars and the Moon," we discussed our final song, and Jimmy asked me to play "that one with the piano." There were some new kids in the class now (there was a constant rotation of kids in and out of the detention center), and he wanted them to hear it too.
When I gave up the district-endorsed curriculum, I replaced it with high-interest articles from People and Ebony. Like the songs, I tried to find articles that gave them hope--stories about people rising out of poverty, using their time in prison to develop their talents, that sort of thing. A number of times, after reading the articles or the songs, one of the kids would say, "Are you trying to tell us something?" or "Did you pick this just for us?" I'd always answer, "No, I just thought it was interesting."
They always believed me. I don't know if that's a good thing. Yet, I still hope that one of those kids remembers something from that summer, maybe even that sacrificing your freedom and joy to make quick, easy money won't bring true contentment.
I don't know if any will, but I will always hope.
the Broadway Mouth
January 28, 2009
Note: Don't forget to enter the giveaway for one of two autographed Luba Mason Krazy Love CDs. For info, see below!
Showing posts with label Jason Robert Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jason Robert Brown. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Friday, June 13, 2008
20 Great Broadway Songs of the Past 10 Years: “This Is Not Over Yet”
While it was unjust, the real tragedy was not that Parade closed after only eighty-four performances. The real tragedy is that it will have taken ten years for a second Jason Robert Brown show to have made it to Broadway when 13 opens this fall (and no, Urban Cowboy doesn’t count).
Here’s another one of those great scores loaded with genius songwriting, ripe with emotion and intelligence. My favorite song of the bunch, though, was aired on the Tonys telecast, “This Is Not Over Yet.” I’ve often said that if I was magically gifted with a beautiful singing voice, I’d sing “This is Not Over Yet” first.
Lyrically, I love it for its intelligent use of rhyme. Jason Robert Brown writes songs where songs don’t rhyme for rhyme’s sake, but the lyrics works together with the music to propel the ideas forward. Look at the section:
Tell my uncle not to worry!
Tell the Reaper not to hurry!
Make the hangman stop his drumming
‘Cause I’m coming into town to win the day!
Somehow I haven’t with my scheming,
Screwed things up beyond redeeming,
And we’re finally on our way!
When he uses internal rhyme to pair drumming with coming, he’s speeding up the pacing of the song, reflecting the hope and excitement building within Leo Frank, furthered by the tempo created by the remaining rhymes and the use of alliteration in the t and s sounds.
Musically, the song soars, rivaling a romantic ballad in the final moments as Lucille comes in. Indeed, it is a song that is both about Leo’s hope and also the newfound love between these two people whose week marriage has only been strengthened by adversity.
Inside the liner notes of the OBCR, there is a note that says a contribution toward the recording was made in memory of Mae Holliday and Chickie Brown. I can’t think of a better way of being memorialized than in the preservation of this amazing, majestic, and powerful score.
the Broadway Mouth
June 13, 2008
Here’s another one of those great scores loaded with genius songwriting, ripe with emotion and intelligence. My favorite song of the bunch, though, was aired on the Tonys telecast, “This Is Not Over Yet.” I’ve often said that if I was magically gifted with a beautiful singing voice, I’d sing “This is Not Over Yet” first.
Lyrically, I love it for its intelligent use of rhyme. Jason Robert Brown writes songs where songs don’t rhyme for rhyme’s sake, but the lyrics works together with the music to propel the ideas forward. Look at the section:
Tell my uncle not to worry!
Tell the Reaper not to hurry!
Make the hangman stop his drumming
‘Cause I’m coming into town to win the day!
Somehow I haven’t with my scheming,
Screwed things up beyond redeeming,
And we’re finally on our way!
When he uses internal rhyme to pair drumming with coming, he’s speeding up the pacing of the song, reflecting the hope and excitement building within Leo Frank, furthered by the tempo created by the remaining rhymes and the use of alliteration in the t and s sounds.
Musically, the song soars, rivaling a romantic ballad in the final moments as Lucille comes in. Indeed, it is a song that is both about Leo’s hope and also the newfound love between these two people whose week marriage has only been strengthened by adversity.
Inside the liner notes of the OBCR, there is a note that says a contribution toward the recording was made in memory of Mae Holliday and Chickie Brown. I can’t think of a better way of being memorialized than in the preservation of this amazing, majestic, and powerful score.
the Broadway Mouth
June 13, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
A Year of Living Anonymously: Stepping Out (a Little)
No one knows who I am.
No, I’m not quoting a song from Jekyll and Hyde; literally no one knows who I am. It’s been exactly one year (and over 34,000 hits ago) that I started writing as the Broadway Mouth with a column entitled “Hello and Faux,” an introduction to myself and a few thoughts concerning the very talented Michael John LaChiusa’s coining of the phrase faux musical.
I owe a big thank you to everyone who has been checking in this past year, be it daily or occasionally to see what the Broadway Mouth has to say. When you start something like this, you never know what to expect, and I have been very blessed to have received so many repeat visits.
But writing in anonymity has been an important part of all of this. I have fought to remain intentionally anonymous to protect me when my loud mouth gets the best of me. I’ve been critical of a few shows (hopefully for the sake of education, not to be nasty or out of a mean spirit), and let’s face it, it’d stink big-time to someday have it thrown in my face that I wasn’t a big fan of someone’s show and to lose out on some great opportunity because of it.
That said, I’m going to withdraw the veil of secrecy for a select few, a few who just might remember me (or just have been annoyed). You have to remember this when I finally do get a show on Broadway because I’ll probably remind you of it if I get the chance to meet you, and I’d appreciate it if you acted like you didn’t remember (or were grateful, whichever the case may be).
Russell Warfield, I owe you an apology and an explanation. In August of 2000, I saw Jekyll and Hyde (which was my first show on Broadway). While waiting in a deluge to meet the cast as they exited the stage door, my Playbill managed to soak up buckets of water. Since I’m a saver, I returned to the theatre the next day to get another. The woman at the ticket office said to go to the stage door. When I did, you were eating McDonald’s and chatting with the man who guarded the door.
As I’ve written before, I get horribly star struck around Broadway people. Long story short, you didn’t believe I had actually seen the show because I didn’t recognize you, but let’s face it, you were wearing much more clothing than you did in the show. I was both embarrassed because your part in the show was very sexual and because I wasn’t used to seeing that sort of thing on stage. Then, in my state of star-struckness-embarassedness-feelinglikeanidiotness, I asked to have my picture taken with you even though you were eating McDonald’s. No wonder you look like you want to ax me in the picture. I apologize.
Marin Mazzie, I apologize for snapping a picture of you outside of Kiss Me, Kate when you weren’t expecting it. You probably thought it was rude. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I was in such awe, and you are so beautiful, I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance for a picture with you. It took me several years to realize how that could have been a violation of your personal space, but at least you look great in the picture. I’m sorry.
Jason Robert Brown, after one performance of Parade on tour, a young man came up to you and said that he taught your song “Stars and the Moon.” That was I. I actually taught it many times since, and it was always a big, big hit with kids. In fact, it was a favorite of the kids when I taught summer school at the juvenile detention center, and they even wanted me to play it again several weeks after I had originally taught it to them. I’ll add, too, that I always showed the scene of Parade from the Tony Awards whenever I did my drama unit.
Merle Dandridge, not even a month into the first stop of the Aida tour, you went on for Simone a second time. As you exited the theatre, a tall young man with a female friend greeted you and told you how wonderful you were, but I don’t think you quite believed them. It was I who saw was there, and your performance is still a favorite of mine. I’m a fan forever.
Faith Prince, I saw you in Bells are Ringing on the Saturday night before its closing Sunday. I was still waiting at the stage door in those days, and I was so sad when you didn’t come out that, the next day, I left a card for you at the stage door. You were so fantastic in that show (mid-way though, I remember thinking, “I want to marry Ella Peterson. Where’s my Ella Peterson!”) that I wanted you to know how much I loved your performance. Your recording of the show is one of my most-listened-to CDs, by the way, and I have many vivid memories of that wonderful production and your performance.
Jayne Patterson, I’ve been a big fan of yours since Jane Eyre, and I was elated to discover that you were playing Fantine on tour a few years afterward, which I didn’t know until I got my program in the theatre. I even bought a third (or was that fourth?) Les Miserables souvenir program just to have a keepsake of your performance. I’ve seen many very fine Fantines on tour, but you’re my favorite. I was the one who wrote you a fan letter about it.
Sherie Rene Scott, it doesn’t really matter because no one will ever see it, but I was writing a pilot for a sitcom for kids (think Hannah Montana but funny) and always envisioned you as a regular character, the rock star mother who was a Madonna on the outside but a Britney Spears on the inside. I guess it’s kind of pointless to even bring it up, but I just wanted you to know someone thought of you, even if he was never even minutely close to having anyone of any importance seeing. It would have been fun, though.
The guy who came on to me in the Broadway shop under the Marriot Marquis in August 2006, I was in there several times in one day simply because I love shopping there (and had to return to find a card to send to someone). When you came on to me, I tried to act disinterested in a way that was respectful and polite. Please don’t take it personally . . . I’m straight. Really, all I wanted to know was if you knew where I could find a 42nd Street souvenir program. I didn’t mean anything by it.
the Broadway Mouth
June 2, 2008
No, I’m not quoting a song from Jekyll and Hyde; literally no one knows who I am. It’s been exactly one year (and over 34,000 hits ago) that I started writing as the Broadway Mouth with a column entitled “Hello and Faux,” an introduction to myself and a few thoughts concerning the very talented Michael John LaChiusa’s coining of the phrase faux musical.
I owe a big thank you to everyone who has been checking in this past year, be it daily or occasionally to see what the Broadway Mouth has to say. When you start something like this, you never know what to expect, and I have been very blessed to have received so many repeat visits.
But writing in anonymity has been an important part of all of this. I have fought to remain intentionally anonymous to protect me when my loud mouth gets the best of me. I’ve been critical of a few shows (hopefully for the sake of education, not to be nasty or out of a mean spirit), and let’s face it, it’d stink big-time to someday have it thrown in my face that I wasn’t a big fan of someone’s show and to lose out on some great opportunity because of it.
That said, I’m going to withdraw the veil of secrecy for a select few, a few who just might remember me (or just have been annoyed). You have to remember this when I finally do get a show on Broadway because I’ll probably remind you of it if I get the chance to meet you, and I’d appreciate it if you acted like you didn’t remember (or were grateful, whichever the case may be).
Russell Warfield, I owe you an apology and an explanation. In August of 2000, I saw Jekyll and Hyde (which was my first show on Broadway). While waiting in a deluge to meet the cast as they exited the stage door, my Playbill managed to soak up buckets of water. Since I’m a saver, I returned to the theatre the next day to get another. The woman at the ticket office said to go to the stage door. When I did, you were eating McDonald’s and chatting with the man who guarded the door.
As I’ve written before, I get horribly star struck around Broadway people. Long story short, you didn’t believe I had actually seen the show because I didn’t recognize you, but let’s face it, you were wearing much more clothing than you did in the show. I was both embarrassed because your part in the show was very sexual and because I wasn’t used to seeing that sort of thing on stage. Then, in my state of star-struckness-embarassedness-feelinglikeanidiotness, I asked to have my picture taken with you even though you were eating McDonald’s. No wonder you look like you want to ax me in the picture. I apologize.
Marin Mazzie, I apologize for snapping a picture of you outside of Kiss Me, Kate when you weren’t expecting it. You probably thought it was rude. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I was in such awe, and you are so beautiful, I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance for a picture with you. It took me several years to realize how that could have been a violation of your personal space, but at least you look great in the picture. I’m sorry.
Jason Robert Brown, after one performance of Parade on tour, a young man came up to you and said that he taught your song “Stars and the Moon.” That was I. I actually taught it many times since, and it was always a big, big hit with kids. In fact, it was a favorite of the kids when I taught summer school at the juvenile detention center, and they even wanted me to play it again several weeks after I had originally taught it to them. I’ll add, too, that I always showed the scene of Parade from the Tony Awards whenever I did my drama unit.
Merle Dandridge, not even a month into the first stop of the Aida tour, you went on for Simone a second time. As you exited the theatre, a tall young man with a female friend greeted you and told you how wonderful you were, but I don’t think you quite believed them. It was I who saw was there, and your performance is still a favorite of mine. I’m a fan forever.
Faith Prince, I saw you in Bells are Ringing on the Saturday night before its closing Sunday. I was still waiting at the stage door in those days, and I was so sad when you didn’t come out that, the next day, I left a card for you at the stage door. You were so fantastic in that show (mid-way though, I remember thinking, “I want to marry Ella Peterson. Where’s my Ella Peterson!”) that I wanted you to know how much I loved your performance. Your recording of the show is one of my most-listened-to CDs, by the way, and I have many vivid memories of that wonderful production and your performance.
Jayne Patterson, I’ve been a big fan of yours since Jane Eyre, and I was elated to discover that you were playing Fantine on tour a few years afterward, which I didn’t know until I got my program in the theatre. I even bought a third (or was that fourth?) Les Miserables souvenir program just to have a keepsake of your performance. I’ve seen many very fine Fantines on tour, but you’re my favorite. I was the one who wrote you a fan letter about it.
Sherie Rene Scott, it doesn’t really matter because no one will ever see it, but I was writing a pilot for a sitcom for kids (think Hannah Montana but funny) and always envisioned you as a regular character, the rock star mother who was a Madonna on the outside but a Britney Spears on the inside. I guess it’s kind of pointless to even bring it up, but I just wanted you to know someone thought of you, even if he was never even minutely close to having anyone of any importance seeing. It would have been fun, though.
The guy who came on to me in the Broadway shop under the Marriot Marquis in August 2006, I was in there several times in one day simply because I love shopping there (and had to return to find a card to send to someone). When you came on to me, I tried to act disinterested in a way that was respectful and polite. Please don’t take it personally . . . I’m straight. Really, all I wanted to know was if you knew where I could find a 42nd Street souvenir program. I didn’t mean anything by it.
the Broadway Mouth
June 2, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Ancient Texts of 2000
I recently dug out a binder in which I stashed a variety of Internet article printouts from around the year 2000. Trends and issues change so much; it’s interesting to look back on the past and see what trends and fears never came to be, promising artists who have yet to flourish, and the big shows of tomorrow that disappeared the next day.
A few of these ancient texts are still floating out there in cyberspace, so I’m sharing them here.
“Spotlight on Jason Robert Brown” by Jonathan Frank
Here’s an interesting interview with Jason Robert Brown from 2000, before The Last Five Years appeared in Chicago on its way to off-Broadway. I love reading interviews with Brown because he’s always thought-provoking and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.
I particularly like what he has to say in the third section of the interview on the need for shows to have an existence outside of Broadway. The only show to successfully do this since the interview without a feature film adaptation has been The Color Purple. With the aid of Oprah’s show and Fantasia’s American Idol performance, The Color Purple was planted firmly before millions of Americans, keeping a show running that otherwise would have closed within a year. Yes, its time was greatly extended as a result of Fantasia’s turn as Celie, but the fact that it survived long enough for her to take part is a credit to that multi-media existence.
The article also makes for a great read because it’s almost from an entirely different Broadway, where Jekyll and Hyde was still running, Ragtime was a recent memory, and a small pool of writing talent was thought to hold the key to Broadway’s future in their piano, a small pool which has greatly expanded and left a few great talents still treading water.
“Whatever Happened at Class” by Peter Filichia
Here’s an interesting article on a trip Peter Filichia made to a musical-writing class at a New Jersey university. Filichia has been known to be supportive of young writers, and his impressions on this up-and-coming talent pool is interesting, never condescending.
I love the article for its accurate depiction of the college student—questioning, harshly criticizing, living the same creative learning experiences every college student journeys through on his or her way to maturity as a writer (or whatever their course of study is).
I once read a criticism of young musical theatre lovers/students, I don’t remember where now, in which the writer was shocked at the gaping holes in the breadth of knowledge some young people had about the classic shows.
I think it’s important to remember that learning is a process. No CD collection is ever complete, no inquiring mind ever truly satisfied. For pretty much any young person out there wanting to study musical theatre with a passion (unless he or she is a performer), the learning grows primarily from self-directed learning, stumbling upon a production at a community theatre, seeing a random book at Barnes and Noble, seeing an old book collecting dust at the library. I’m familiar with many of the classic shows, but it has come through years of CD-buying and book reading, the likes of which I didn’t have time or the resources to pursue at the age of twenty. Even a movie translation easily available on DVD or video isn’t always fair game—that still takes resources to acquire and time to watch.
In other words, it just takes time to learn.
“What’s New on the Rialto: A Conversation with Annette Niemtzow”
Here’s a glimpse inside the mind of a producer, namely the lead producer for the musical adaptation of Jane Eyre. Producing is something I’ve wanted to learn more about, and this interview with Annette Niemtzow takes some of the mystique out of the process.
This interview took place before the show opened, and in it, Niemtzow discusses the journey of producing a musical. It’s particularly poignant, and no doubt typical, to hear Niemtzow’s excitement and hopes for a beloved show that ultimately closed deep in the red.
Happy Talk from the Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization
I used to get the R&H Organization’s newsletter when I was directing plays at a high school. I’ve since been thrilled to learn that Happy Talk is posted on the R&H Organization’s website. In it, there are usually profiles or updates on new productions of shows that are licensed by the organization, including the works of Irving Berlin, John Michael LaChiusa, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Adam Guettel.
Best of all, there is a search function which allows you to search for information in past issues.
It’s also worth noting that for most of the shows licensed by the R&H Organization, a picture is included as part of the promotional material on the webpage. If you need a picture of one of the shows they license (like Marie Christine), it would be a very good place to start.
My Links
On the side of my blog, you’ll find a selection of theatre-related links to check out. You’ll find the link to the American Theatre Wing’s invaluable Working in the Theatre Seminars. If you are attempting a career on Broadway in any capacity, check out their tremendous resources.
You’ll also see a link to Musical Writers, a site for those who want to write musicals. Be sure to sign up for their newsletters to keep up to date on available opportunities.
You’ll see the blog The Director Sector, where you can follow a budding director as he develops his craft and tries to figure out his path to a career in the theatre, not to mention his intelligent thoughts on the craft.
Lastly, off-Broadway producer Ken Davenport provides brief insights into the world of producing via his blog. If you’re looking to learn more about the business of show business, Davenport’s blog would be a great place to begin.
the Broadway Mouth
February 3, 2008
A few of these ancient texts are still floating out there in cyberspace, so I’m sharing them here.
“Spotlight on Jason Robert Brown” by Jonathan Frank
Here’s an interesting interview with Jason Robert Brown from 2000, before The Last Five Years appeared in Chicago on its way to off-Broadway. I love reading interviews with Brown because he’s always thought-provoking and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.
I particularly like what he has to say in the third section of the interview on the need for shows to have an existence outside of Broadway. The only show to successfully do this since the interview without a feature film adaptation has been The Color Purple. With the aid of Oprah’s show and Fantasia’s American Idol performance, The Color Purple was planted firmly before millions of Americans, keeping a show running that otherwise would have closed within a year. Yes, its time was greatly extended as a result of Fantasia’s turn as Celie, but the fact that it survived long enough for her to take part is a credit to that multi-media existence.
The article also makes for a great read because it’s almost from an entirely different Broadway, where Jekyll and Hyde was still running, Ragtime was a recent memory, and a small pool of writing talent was thought to hold the key to Broadway’s future in their piano, a small pool which has greatly expanded and left a few great talents still treading water.
“Whatever Happened at Class” by Peter Filichia
Here’s an interesting article on a trip Peter Filichia made to a musical-writing class at a New Jersey university. Filichia has been known to be supportive of young writers, and his impressions on this up-and-coming talent pool is interesting, never condescending.
I love the article for its accurate depiction of the college student—questioning, harshly criticizing, living the same creative learning experiences every college student journeys through on his or her way to maturity as a writer (or whatever their course of study is).
I once read a criticism of young musical theatre lovers/students, I don’t remember where now, in which the writer was shocked at the gaping holes in the breadth of knowledge some young people had about the classic shows.
I think it’s important to remember that learning is a process. No CD collection is ever complete, no inquiring mind ever truly satisfied. For pretty much any young person out there wanting to study musical theatre with a passion (unless he or she is a performer), the learning grows primarily from self-directed learning, stumbling upon a production at a community theatre, seeing a random book at Barnes and Noble, seeing an old book collecting dust at the library. I’m familiar with many of the classic shows, but it has come through years of CD-buying and book reading, the likes of which I didn’t have time or the resources to pursue at the age of twenty. Even a movie translation easily available on DVD or video isn’t always fair game—that still takes resources to acquire and time to watch.
In other words, it just takes time to learn.
“What’s New on the Rialto: A Conversation with Annette Niemtzow”
Here’s a glimpse inside the mind of a producer, namely the lead producer for the musical adaptation of Jane Eyre. Producing is something I’ve wanted to learn more about, and this interview with Annette Niemtzow takes some of the mystique out of the process.
This interview took place before the show opened, and in it, Niemtzow discusses the journey of producing a musical. It’s particularly poignant, and no doubt typical, to hear Niemtzow’s excitement and hopes for a beloved show that ultimately closed deep in the red.
Happy Talk from the Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization
I used to get the R&H Organization’s newsletter when I was directing plays at a high school. I’ve since been thrilled to learn that Happy Talk is posted on the R&H Organization’s website. In it, there are usually profiles or updates on new productions of shows that are licensed by the organization, including the works of Irving Berlin, John Michael LaChiusa, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Adam Guettel.
Best of all, there is a search function which allows you to search for information in past issues.
It’s also worth noting that for most of the shows licensed by the R&H Organization, a picture is included as part of the promotional material on the webpage. If you need a picture of one of the shows they license (like Marie Christine), it would be a very good place to start.
My Links
On the side of my blog, you’ll find a selection of theatre-related links to check out. You’ll find the link to the American Theatre Wing’s invaluable Working in the Theatre Seminars. If you are attempting a career on Broadway in any capacity, check out their tremendous resources.
You’ll also see a link to Musical Writers, a site for those who want to write musicals. Be sure to sign up for their newsletters to keep up to date on available opportunities.
You’ll see the blog The Director Sector, where you can follow a budding director as he develops his craft and tries to figure out his path to a career in the theatre, not to mention his intelligent thoughts on the craft.
Lastly, off-Broadway producer Ken Davenport provides brief insights into the world of producing via his blog. If you’re looking to learn more about the business of show business, Davenport’s blog would be a great place to begin.
the Broadway Mouth
February 3, 2008
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