Coronavirus Diary

My favorite moment in this odd time involves--you guessed it--Stephen Sondheim.

Early in the pandemic, Sondheim was celebrating his birthday. It also happened to be the birthday of Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Rosie O'Donnell screened Webber live from one of his palatial homes. "Happy Birthday, Stephen," said Andrew, and he, ALW, played a bit from Sondheim's middle years on his piano. (I think the melody was "Night Waltz," from "A Little Night Music.")

Earnest, direct, not trying too hard: Standard Andrew Lloyd Webber.

The screen then showed Sondheim in his own home (in midtown Manhattan?)

Sondheim did not speak; instead he began singing. He seemed to set a timer. "Happy Birthday, dear Andrew...." Sondheim began washing his hands, and washed them all the way through the end of the song. He again hit the large timer, and dried his hands on a towel. Fade to black.

Layered, subtle, complex: A tip of the hat to Andrew, but also a piece of performance art. A statement for anyone careless in America. An exhortation. A warning.

That's my Steve. Steve "wins the Internet." I loved that clip.

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=sondheim+happy+birthday+andrew+lloyd

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