Skip to main content

Sondheim at 90

In honor of the approaching big event (Sondheim’s Ninetieth), a few special titles:

*Flashiest Sondheim Rhyme. This, of course, comes from “Company,” when the single ladies are trying to get zombie-like Bobby out of his slump. “When a person’s personality is personable, he shouldn’t oughta sit like a lump. It’s harder than a matador coercin’ a bull to try to get you off a yer rump....” Yes, Sondheim rhymed “personable” with “coercin’ a bull....”

*Biggest Sondheim Near-Miss. There is a special distinction Bernadette Peters has: She originated major roles in both a Sondheim production and an Andrew Lloyd Webber production. She was Broadway’s first Dot, Broadway’s first Witch, and Broadway’s first lead lady in “Song and Dance” (Tony Award). Not even Patti LuPone can say she has been a First both for Sondheim and for ALW. Do you know who came *so close* to this distinction? Betty Buckley. Famously, she was Grizabella in “Cats,” and she won the Tony (despite having almost been fired). Buckley also CAME CLOSE TO BEING BROADWAY’S FIRST WITCH, in “Into the Woods"--and it seems that no one really knows why she didn’t get this honor. Rumors circulate. Rumors about difficult personalities. Rumors about not being able to seem glamorous in Act Two. Rumors about taking too many musical liberties....

*Sondheim’s Personal Favorite (Among His Sentences). Actually, I’m not sure he gives this explicit number-one status, but he is on the record feeling proud of his own ending to “The Road You Didn’t Take,” from “Follies”: “The Ben I’ll never be...who remembers him?”

The song is about a guy in denial (almost all Sondheim types are in denial, all the time): He, Ben, is saying, It doesn’t matter if I didn’t live up to certain ideals, because facts are facts, I am who I am, and the person I am is fine. A nonsense argument--because we tend to make nonsense arguments (in our head) to get through life. It’s a haunting sentence you won’t find anywhere else.

More to come! Happy (early) Birthday, SS!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more