When people are asked to name their favorite musician, a historic figure they would love to share a meal with, or someone who has inspired them, the answers are always intriguing. When I was in elementary school I told a teacher that my hero was Johann Sebastian Bach. Later in life, I often cited Beverly Sills as the artist who helped me understand how powerful music could be on an intensely personal level as a means of creating and spreading joy to others.
For many people, music is a critical factor in their lives. Whether they "Whistle A Happy Tune" "Whistle While They Work, or "Give A Little Whistle," all kinds of music nurtures and sustains them through the ups and downs of their daily lives.
As one looks back over the course of the 20th century, certain artists with extensive careers become associated with specific periods. From Rudy Vallée and Frank Sinatra to Michael Jackson and Bruce Springsteen; from Nina Simone and Judy Garland to Barbra Streisand and Lady Gaga, key artists anchor a portion of our history and cultural identity. For many people, the catalog of a particular songwriter or record label enshrines a playlist that keeps filling our heads with the music we love. This fall witnesses four jukebox musicals on Broadway stages (The Cher Show, Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, Summer: The Donna Summer Musical, and Head Over Heels).
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On a cold winter day in February 1971, I sat in the balcony of the Colonial Theatre watching a performance of Follies during its Boston tryout. With a book by James Goldman and music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, the new musical was going through some changes as the creative team struggled to trim it down to a reasonable length (in Boston it was performed in two acts; it has subsequently been performed quite often in one act). Among the songs which were cut in Boston was a musical number filled with sexual innuendo that was originally sung by Yvonne De Carlo.Devoted to the sounds of popular music between the two world wars (when revues like George White's Scandals, Earl Carroll's Vanities, and the Ziegfeld Follies were extremely popular), Sondheim's score for Follies is a grand pastiche which, in many numbers, captures the style of these revues. As I headed back to Providence, Rhode Island after the show I kept wondering where in the world he had managed to dig up so many great songs. When it finally dawned on me that they were not "lost" songs being given a new lease on life but new songs which had been carefully modeled on their predecessors, I drove home in a delirious state of shock and awe.
Since that night, I've seen the original 1971 Broadway and 1987 London productions of Follies as well as performances at the Circle Star Theatre in San Carlos (1973) and Houston's Wortham Theater Center (1987). Audiences around the world have enjoyed telecasts of a 1985 concert version with the New York Philharmonic at Avery Fisher Hall and the Royal National Theatre's 2017 revival in London. Many have enjoyed hearing Sondheim's complete score on the 2-CD recording of the 1998 Paper Mill Playhouse production.
Frank Rich's initial review of Follies in the Harvard Crimson helped lay a career path that led to his becoming the chief theatre critic for The New York Times. Ted Chapin did a phenomenal job of capturing the tensions and triumphs of the Boston tryout in Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies.
As Follies nears the 50th anniversary of its Broadway premiere, the creative team's craft and the show's legendary status have continued to grow. However, as the years have rolled by, casting a production of Follies has taken on a vastly different casting challenge than those faced in earlier productions.
The cast of the original Broadway production was filled with leading ladies from stage, film, and popular music (Dorothy Collins, Alexis Smith, Yvonne De Carlo, Mary McCarty, Ethel Shutta). They have since died and the artists who originated the roles of Young Ben, Young Sally, Young Buddy, and young Phyllis are now mostly in their 70s. Although recent revivals of Follies have have featured many performers whose careers were just taking off in 1971, few members of the old guard are still with us today.
San Francisco's 42nd Street Moon recently offered two benefit performances of a semi-staged concert version of Follies that delivered some very interesting artistic rewards. With a 28-piece orchestra on the stage of the Alcazar Theatre, audiences were treated to a much richer accompaniment than most regional theatres can afford (which occasionally highlighted the magic of Jonathan Tunick's orchestrations). Directed by Daren A.C. Carollo and conducted by Daniel Thomas (with choreography by Rick Wallace), casting featured many familiar faces from 42nd Street Moon and other Bay area stages.
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| Poster art for 42nd Street Moon's concert version of Follies |
With one glaring exception, most of the performers revealed impressive voices that gave strength and depth to their characters. From John Brown's Roscoe, Marcia Hetzler's Heidi Schiller, and Darlene Popovic's droll Hattie Walker to Stephanie Prentice's ebullient Carlotta Campion and the brassy portrayal of Stella Deems by Anita Viramontes, the supporting players did a beautiful job. In smaller roles, company co-founder Stephanie Rhoads took on Solange LaFitte and John Hetzler appeared as Dmitri Weissman. Peter Budinger and DC Scarpelli did a nice job with "Rain on the Roof" as the married dance team of Theodore and Emily Whitman.
When it comes to the four leads (and the ghosts of their younger selves), it was interesting to see two performers who are brothers (Danila and Nikita Burshteyn) appearing as Young Buddy and Young Ben. Josselyn O'Neill (Young Phyllis) and Melissa WolfKlain (Young Sally) joined them in shadowing their more mature counterparts.
As the sophisticated, bitter Phyllis Rogers Stone, Annemarie Martin captured the lonely sarcasm of a woman who married a man she admired only to be continually disappointed by him throughout a long and increasingly alienating marriage. Chris Vettel's portrayal of Benjamin Stone was one of the best sung I think I've ever heard. As always, Buddy (Derrick Silva) and Sally (Diana Torres Koss) came off as Phyllis and Ben's poor relations. While Silva turned in a poignantly ingratiating performance as the conflicted traveling salesman, I could not tell whether Torres Koss was having vocal problems or if Sally's music was simply out of her range.
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| The cast of 42nd Street Moon's concert version of Follies |
These two concert version performances of Follies were staged to benefit 42nd Street Moon's education and outreach programs.
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In his recent program note entitled “Dancing in the Streets,” Aurora Theatre Company’s Literary Manager and Artistic Associate, Josh Costello, quotes a 1971 Rolling Stone magazine article which praised Motown’s output as:“A series of records and a body of music so commanding, so sophisticated, and so fine, as to make Motown a contender for the supreme pop achievement of the last 10 years. What was the Motown sound? In its heyday, in the mid-1960s, it consisted of (1) simply structured songs with sophisticated melodies and chord changes, (2) a relentless four-beat drum pattern, (3) a gospel use of background voices, vaguely derived from the style of The Impressions, (4) a regular and sophisticated use of both horns and strings, (5) lead singers who were halfway between pop and gospel music, (6) a group of accompanying musicians who were among the most dextrous, knowledgeable, and brilliant in all of popular music (Motown bassists have long been the envy of white rock bassists) and (7) a trebly style of mixing that relied heavily on electronic limiting and equalizing (boosting the high range frequencies to give the overall product a distinctive sound), particularly effective for broadcast over AM radio.”The Aurora Theatre Company is currently presenting the Bay area premiere of the first play in Dominique Morisseau's Detroit-based trilogy (Detroit '67). For those members of the audience old enough to remember them, the sight of a record player designed for 45 rpm singles may cause a wave of nostalgia, along with snippets of music by The Temptations, The Four Tops, and Martha and the Vandellas. Set in July 1967, the action takes place against a volatile background of intense racism, police violence, and financial irresponsibility. A side issue is one character's reluctance to abandon her 45 rpm record player for the higher quality sound available on an eight-track tape cartridge.
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| Halili Knox (Chelle) and Akilah A. Walker (Bunny) in a scene from Detroit '67 (Photo by: David Allen) |
Much like Lorraine Hansberry's 1959 drama, A Raisin in the Sun, Morisseau's play rests on the question of how a sudden influx of money will affect a small family. In Raisin, the death of the Younger family's patriarch has led to the issuance of a $10,000 check from his life insurance policy. His son, Walter, wants to invest that money in a partnership with two of his friends to purchase a local liquor store so they can own their own business. His newly-widowed mother would prefer to use the money for a down payment on a house that would allow them to leave behind a life of poverty.
In Detroit '67, the parents of Chelle (Halili Knox) and Langston, a/k/a/ Lank (Rafael Jordan) have died and left some money to their children along with the house which has been the family's home for many years. Lank is eager to join forces with his friend, Sly (Myers Clark), to purchase a bar so they can own their own business. As the stable older sister who grew up with the responsibility of watching out for her kid brother, the instinctively protective Chelle feels a need to protect the adult Lank from his impulsive behavior.
Lank's impulses, however, are rarely destructive. On this particular occasion, he and Sly were enjoying a night out when they encountered a bruised and battered young woman wandering alone in a daze. Well aware that they could be arrested if they brought a white woman to the Emergency Room (and despite the fact that they might be accused of kidnapping a white woman), they brought Caroline (Emily Radosevich) back to Lank's home to shelter her until morning and tend to her wounds.
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| Emily Radosevich (Caroline) and Rafael Jordan (Lank) in a scene from Detroit '67 (Photo by: David Allen) |
When Chelle learns what they have done, she is horrified that her brother would run the risk of bringing a white woman into their home. Chelle's married but streetwise girlfriend, Bunny (Akilah A. Walker), has some clues about who the mystery woman might be. However, with their plans set for throwing an after-hours dance party that could bring in some extra cash, Chelle agrees to at least let Caroline help prepare food and serve drinks at the party (which brings in a cool $200).
Meanwhile, racial tensions in the neighborhood start to reach the boiling point. Soon enough, violence has broken out and risen to the point where President Johnson has called in the National Guard. As the neighborhood (along with nearly 2000 other buildings) burns to the ground, Chelle worries about her son (who is away at school in Tuskegee) and her kid brother, who, though he is very much a grown man, could be in danger with the police.
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| Halili Knox (Chelle) and Myers Clark (Sly) in a scene from Detroit '67 (Photo by: David Allen) |
The recipient of the 2014 Edward M. Kennedy Prize for Drama Inspired by American History, Detroit '67 reinforces the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished. As Caroline recovers and hangs around, she and Lank develop a mutual attraction fed by their awareness of always being "outsiders." In an era when audiences have become hypersensitive to the use of the "N-word," hearing one of Morisseau's characters hint that Caroline is probably "a nigger lover" offers a moment of refreshing bluntness in an era of politically-correct theatre.
With sound design by Cliff Caruthers and lighting by Jeff Rowlings, Darryl V. Jones has directed this production with equal attention to Bunny's sass, Lank's repressed dreams, Caroline's dark secrets, and Chelle's resentment that her kid brother isn't attracted to a black woman. Richard Olmsted's design for a 1960s-era basement recreation room is period appropriate while Kitty Muntzel's costume designs give a solid sense of women's clothing from Sixties. While Aurora's five-actor ensemble is rock solid, I was particularly moved by Halili Knox's portrayal of Chelle and Akilah A. Walker's characterization of Bunny. Rafael Jordan (who has appeared with Aurora in recent seasons) continues to impress with his versatility and commitment to character.
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| Akilah A. Walker (Bunny) and Rafael Jordan (Lank) in a scene from Detroit '67 (Photo by: David Allen) |
Performances of Detroit '67 continue through September 30 at the Aurora Theatre Company (click here for tickets).
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