Stephen Sondheim, b. March 22

Any memorable story will make use of tension and irony. The first concept is a gap between speech and thought. The second can be "situational": when we're led to expect one event, and the exact opposite is the thing that occurs.

To me, Sondheim's "Putting It Together" is a dramatic masterpiece. It's a scene in which an artist needs to compete for funding. He is constantly saying something at odds with the contents of his heart. What he wants to say is: "Fuck you all, I'd like to work...." Instead, he must say: "I list the contributors on the side of my invention...." Also, to a minion: "You just gotta take it easy!"

Then, the situational irony: An artist's job is to listen and to empathize, but the artist here can do neither. George continuously steps on toes, by saying the wrong thing: "You have no shortage of opinions," "I love your work, lighten up," "Go mingle RIGHT NOW...."

You can see irony all over Sondheim's canvas. In "Sweeney Todd," a maternal figure assures her boy that he is safe from worry--while, in her head, she plots his death. Again, in "Sweeney," the lead figure breaks bread with the local judge (while sharpening his tool of execution, underneath the table). In "Gypsy," a woman ostensibly comforts her lover by promising, "You'll never get away from me." But read that sentence again. It's double-edged.

Sondheim enjoyed the world, and a sense of wonder flows through his work. Things that shocked people in the seventies are still shocking people today.

Happy (belated) birthday!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJFz-ucuTvs

Comments

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...

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...

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...

Liars and Saints

Search This Blog