Iterations of Sondheim

Seeing the movie of Stephen Sondheim’s Company that was made of the four performances at Lincoln Center was a shock to the system. I am an over-the-top Sondheim fanatic and while not every show hits it out of the park, my senses were first jolted by a performance of Company in 1970 at the Alvin Theatre in New York City. I was a young impressionable teen and I had never seen anything like this. 

All my musical fare to date was limited to Rogers and Hart (The Boys from Syracuse and Pal Joey) and later Hammerstein (Oklahoma!, Carousel, South Pacific, The King and I and The Sound of Music), Lerner and Loew (Brigadoon, My Fair Lady and Camelot), and Bye Bye Birdie, Hello Dolly ( Carol Channing was amazing but I also saw it with Pearl Bailey and Cab Calloway!), and the operettas of Gilbert and Sullivan.


All were great shows with many memorable tunes and wonderful sequential stories with easy to follow plots - stories that were structured the way you would expect them to unfold. But Company was/is something else entirely – a series of vignettes revolving around one central character, a single man in a sea of married couples. This was, in it’s time, groundbreaking. I remember that didn’t walk out of Company feeling happy and satisfied or humming anything in particular, but I was dumb struck.

Mandy  -- Born to sing Sondheim 

I’m sure part of my shock was that it talked about marriage as adults might talk about it.  This was clearly a show with music written for adults. In my own childhood home, marriage was combative and ugly, ending in divorce. For a very long time, I didn't know it could be otherwise.  Company incisively captures the highs and lows of these relationships and is both uncomfortable and brilliant.    

The other thing that made me catch my breath was it’s ending.  I had never seen a show that ended without a resolution; that was left open to interpretation, to the viewer’s projections.  It was not the what (Bobby seeks out his own life, leaving his married friends behind.) but the why. Why did he need leave them behind? I was too young to understand. No show with music had ever left me so bereft.

In the years since then I’ve seen Company twice more, not including this latest iteration. I must confess to you dear readers, that there are a few shows that I have seen a few times. At the top of this list is Sweeney Todd, another Sondheim production and IMHO, his masterpiece.  I've seen at least five versions of the show.
The first was the original with Angela Lansbury and Len Cariou (1979) when the theatre was transformed into the bowels of London. Then there was a filmed version of the Broadway show. The third was an incredible revival with a ten-person cast (2005) who each played an instrument. There was no orchestra but the music was played in new Kurt Weill/Bertolt Brecht-like orchestrations (They of Three Penny Opera fame.) This rather stripped down bare Marxist twist on the production starred Patti LuPone (Mrs. Lovett - Tuba & percussion) and Michael Cerveris* (Sweeney - Guitar).  I just loved learning that Ms. LuPone had played the Tuba in her high school marching band!  Some years ago we took our son to a local theatre camp production starring a seventeen-year-old Sweeney with an unfortunate lisp. The family then watched in wonder at Tim Burton's interpretation starring Johnny Depp.  I call these: Sweeney Todd, Teeny Todd, Der Schweeney Todd, Ss-weeny Todd, and Burton Todd ( the opposite of Liz's encounters)  -- just to keep them straight in my head.

Patti pulls it off and then some! 

But this film version of Company was unlike any other musical I’d ever seen on film or stage. Part of it was that the performance was taking place at Lincoln Center for the audience at large, not the screen viewers. As such, each gesture and expression was done for those “out there” while the camera captured each performer up close and personal, so close in fact that you could see the amount of pancake make-up in their pores. This put each actor under unusual and untypical scrutiny. It also created a special intimacy with the performers that I really liked.  The joy of performance was etched in their high definition faces.

Look at the joy in these faces! 

I was very anxious about Patti LuPone being able to pull off The Ladies who Lunch. Elaine Stritch has owned it forever but she blew the roof off! No one does pain like Patti. Neil Patrick Harris is adorable and has a nice voice but he’s no Dean Jones or Larry Kert.  It was a treat to discover that Christina Hendricks has great comedy chops. Some of the other minor players like Martha Plimpton and Jon Cryer, to name two of the celebs in this production, are just a delight. Stephen Colbert is so happy to be part of it all but his vibrato is frequently in search of the right note.  

That said, the very best thing about this production was the sound! Wow. You’ve got the New York Philharmonic and the latest in audio film technology combining together in a small dark room with great speakers and Sondheim. His music has never sounded so majestic and rich!  That made it all worth it.

For a $15 ticket, this was a new and exciting way to experience Broadway and to reach an audience that can’t make it to New York City or can’t just drop $150 plus parking for a ticket to see a show. (Tickets for The Book of Mormon start there.) Yes, I do love going to the theatre in New York City. There is nothing like live theatre, I know I know, but this is great show, an amazing bargain and there are no bad seats. The run was limited but paved the way for more. I know I’ll be back for the next one.

*Fringe alert! Michael Cerveris is the main observer on Fringe.  He also played the pinball wizard, Tommy in the original Broadway production of The Who’s Tommy and was deliriously powerful. 

The Spice of Life

It is almost 11am on a glorious Saturday morning after a brutal early evening thunderstorm that knocked out power to much of the neighborhood.  I’ve been up for hours, having just returned from Janet’s house.  She’s a dear friend and is relocating to California at the end of the month. I will miss her terribly but I am happy for her too. This is something we’ve been talking about for years and is her dream realized.  It’s hard not to dwell on the sorrow of saying goodbye but I understand that friendship is never limited by geography in this most miraculous age where high tech facilitates high touch. 

This is most evidenced by my time spent on Facebook, so often instant chatting long distance with friends in distant places. It helps that I’m fast on the keyboard but I try not to hijack the conversation. The back and forth nature of it actually captures more of my intent than a typical in-person polite conversation does, where spoken language is more linear. You know how when you’re talking to someone, you have to listen to what they have to say before responding or changing the subject?  The automaticity of these written instant zings back and forth enables both parties to “speak” at once, to share any thoughts ---however unrelated ---in real time, and to refer back to what someone has said just in case you weren’t “listening” or your mind strayed off as you were trying to remember whatever it was you wanted to say at some point later in the conversation. I find I value this more as I grow older.  This electronic process enables me to refer back to my “notes” and theirs.  Ironically, many of my far-flung friends know more about me and how I think, than many of my physically closer ones.  The spontaneity of this format of exchange appeals to me.  Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

So Janet is soon to be a “distant” friend, but only geographically.  In preparation for this departure I was there this morning helping her empty out her kitchen cabinets. We pulled out all of the spices and seasoning treasures and in doing so shared another dimension of our friendship – Cooking.  Janet is originally from the Midwest – Ann Arbor, she’s Black and she’s an awesome cook, just one of her many talents.  I’m a Jew from New Jersey, love to cook and over the years we have swapped foods and dishes like other friends share books.  Her repertoire and mine are different but we have a great appreciation of what tastes good.  Her fried avocado slices and chili dishes are to die for. She practically purred over my plum pies and homemade soups.

She’s lived in her condo for years and amassed, as we do, years of stuff – including said spices.  She had two cabinets full to be discarded.  As the countertop became littered with pretty little bottles and jars, I pointed out her 6 jars of chili powders, 4 jars of red peppers flakes and in the way way back, long forgotten, packages of things that were older than this century.  How often have we purchased new things, shoved older things to the back of our cabinets and forgotten about what we already had? What life lesson might be learned from this, I wonder.   

We sorted out food for the local food bank, tossed out faded passions and she passed on the “bought with the best of intentions practically brand new” goods to me.  I now have a variety of rubs and spices and chocolate powders that will keep Janet here in my kitchen and always in my heart.    

In commemoration of her move, I prepared a special gift for her, a CD of songs each of which has a special meaning as a reflection of our friendship and the magic she has added to my life.  Just like that in person conversation, the words I might say or write were not enough to convey what was in my heart. Language is limited no matter our eloquence or intent.  It is the sumptuous soundtrack of our lives that adds the spice.  

To see more of Janet's fabulous art visit her website:

www.janettaylorpickett.com