Neapolitan Days-Part I

Like Neapolitan ice cream, this last week has been filled with a multitude of flavors. I've had a lot of reading and interesting classwork, but I'll skip the descriptions of that in favor of tastes of the performances I've seen.

A bit more on Charlie Strouse, the Annie and Bye Bye Birdie composer:

The dean interviewed him, and Mr. Strouse was just charming, like a dear neighbor down the street from you. He described his time at Eastman and spoke about fond memories of certain professors. When he graduated, Nadia Boulanger and Aaron Copland took him under their wings, mentored him, and Ms. Boulanger pointed out that he "had a talent for light music", meaning Broadway. After so many successes, he still wakes up every day and composes. Someone asked him where he thought Broadway musicals were going, and he said, "If you know, tell me because I want to be on that train!" He is so interested in moving forward, doing new and different things. Of course, he's had experience with the cutting edge since Bye Bye Birdie incorporated the new genre of rock when it was written.

Another audience member asked whether there were any current composers he really respected. He mentioned Sondheim and some others but comically implied that he didn't focus on others because, "I like to think that I'm the best, you know. I go to a musical and I sit there and think, "Oh I could do that better" or "I can't do that as well." But you see, it's all about me," he smiled. It was said in a very delightful way, not egotistical. I can't quite convey the humorous honesty of it. In a way, it was actually self-deprecating in how he said it. One thing that was very clear from the evening was his humility and sense that he's been blessed, had a charmed life.

Mr. Strouse also told a few colorful stories about the characters he's encountered over the years. One audience member asked whom his favorite and least favorite people were to work with. He didn't address the "least favorite" part, but he did mention Lauren Bacall as a favorite.

"She really taught me a lesson," he said. "We had just done Applause in Baltimore, which was a flop. But the night of the first performance, we were still waiting for the reviews. We were all gathered in her hotel room, and there was a reporter there from Look magazine. This was a big deal - it had about 25 million readers. And we were all nervous. The producer was saying, "Would you like a Coke?" and the director was saying, "Oh, maybe you'd be more comfortable in this chair?" and I was contemplating committing suicide. Finally, the door opened and in walked Lauren. There were flashbulbs going off everywhere from God knows where. And she came in and closed the door and asked the reporter, "So, how did you like the show?" He said, "Well, it was...interesting." And do you know what she said? (Can I use this kind of language here?)" Mr. Strouse asked as an aside. "Well, she said, "Go F*** yourself!" It was a very powerful and very short lesson for me in how to stand up for yourself. After this, that reporter became her slave. And I thought, "Well, if that's all it takes...""

Another great story was about Alan Jay Lerner, who collaborated with Frederick Lowe to write My Fair Lady. Strouse collaborated with many people. When he worked with Lerner, he said, he had never experienced anything like it. "Lerner would just sit while I composed and smoke and smoke. He would read the newspaper and just sit there. But every now and then, he would poke his head up and say, "That last phrase...why don't you keep it going up instead of turning and going down?" And that advice often turned out to be terrific, but his suggestions were always interesting. It turns out that Lowe didn't like to work. His mother used to chain him to the piano. So Lerner had just gotten in the habit of sitting there while Lowe composed."

Strouse also talked about his musical All American, which was about a Russian emigre who "falls in love with America for all the reasons we often hate it - the vulgarity, the brashness... It was a flop, but we got one big hit tune out of it. Now, there are many reasons why things flop. In this case, I had wanted a European actor to play the Russian emigre. I had flown to London and auditioned and even signed an actor, but the director insisted on Ray Bolger." Bolger was the Scarecrow in the Judy Garland Wizard of Oz movie. He was American through and through. "Bolger was doing his own version of a Slavic accent," said Strouse. "I knew we were in trouble, when Mel Brooks leaned over to me and said "Why is Ray speaking Japanese?""

It was an incredible evening.

To save this post from being even more indigestible than it actually is, I'll put my next description in a new entry. In the meantime, feel free to grab that Prilosec off the shelf.

~Hope