Friday 21 February 2014

I am Woman, Hear Me Score

Buried in the penultimate paragraph of this piece in the Independent by Claudia Pritchard which previews the new musical, The A to Z of Mrs P, is this little footnote:

"The A-Z of Mrs P is the first major musical by a female lyricist and composer team..."

Now this doesn't quite make sense. The lyricist and composer "team" in this case is Gwyneth Herbert who is providing both music and lyrics. The book writer is Diane Samuels.

But there is a point to be made about the male dominance of musical theatre writers. There have, of course, been some top-flight female writers. Off the top of my head: Betty Comden (On the Town), Dorothy Fields (Sweet Charity), Carol Bayer Sager (They're Playing Our Song), Lynn Ahrens (Ragtime). The notable thing about that list, however, is that they are all lyricists (and some librettists too). No composers.

Why is this? I really have no idea. Maybe it's evolution. Maybe it's the cultural norms of a patriarchal hegemony. Who knows? But it is a curious thing that an art form whose audience is predominantly female should have so few female composers.

Gwyneth Herbert, exception though she may be, sounds more than promising. It's worth taking a listen to this demo of the new song, Lovely London Town, sung by Isy Suttie and taken from the forthcoming musical. I don't know much about the character or story (or, frankly, anything) but I do know that this is an interesting song.

If there is a common criticism of songs from new musicals, it is that they are too generic. I've probably used the word myself before. What is meant by it? Well, it's simply that the music sounds too general. It may be musically correct, it may be tuneful, it may sound inoffensively nice; but if it has nothing distinctive to offer, then it will ultimately lack character. And that's not good, especially in musical theatre.

The good news is that it doesn't take much to make the music distinctive. Going back to "Lovely London Town". It's relatively simple; for the most part, four chords underneath and a repeated four-note melody in a triplet rhythm on top. Yes, there are some nice musical sound effects in the middle (something tinkly and something that sounds like a miniature anvil) but these are for colour, not character.

The character bit is the wordless backing vocals, a chorus of humming and ah-ing that continues throughout the whole song. The light and swoopy sound is immediately evocative. You only have to listen to the first few notes and you know this character is a dreamer. For my money, the simple chords and melody also suggest an introverted or reserved nature. This woman may be a dreamer but she's content in her own dream and doesn't need to tell the world about.

As I said before, I know nothing of the story so I could be way off the mark here. Alternatively (but far less likely) the composer could be way off the mark and have misjudged the drama and written the wrong kind of characterful music. But characterful it is which, to my ears, puts it ahead of much of the competition.

So does this mean that The A to Z of Mrs P will be a rip-roaring runaway success? Impossible to say but hope it is. One thing is clear: the show does have a thoughtful composer capable of writing distinctive music. And that's significant.

The fact that she's a woman is less so.

Wednesday 19 February 2014

Taking the Risk It

Dennis Kelly, book writer of Matilda, has been making the case for arts funding under the title of "Matilda, the musical? A risk only subsidised theatre would take":

"In 2006, Jeanie O' Hare at the RSC approached me about adapting Roald Dahl's Matilda into a musical. This was strange for two reasons: the first was that musicals generally start with the director or composer, not the person who's going to write the script"

Although technically it started with Jeanie O'Hare, the "commissioning dramaturg" (I'll bet you don't get them in the commercial theatre). But it's true: the book writer is not usually the primary consideration. Until the show flops and then they're first in the firing line.

"The second reason was that I had absolutely no knowledge of musicals whatsoever. Far from believing this was a problem, I think it was actually what she was after."

Well, ignorance is bliss, as they say. But is this a risk that the commercial theatre would never take? Let's take a look at some of the book writers with commercial musicals currently or soon to be playing the West End:

David Greig (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory)
Catherine Johnson (Mamma Mia)
Lee Hall (Billy Elliot)
Bill Oakes (From Here to Eternity)
Harry Hill (I Can't Sing)

All of whom, as far as I can tell, are first-time musical writers. And for good measure let's chuck in a couple of old hands:

Christopher Hampton (Stephen Ward) - a playwright whose first musical was the commercially successful Sunset Boulevard.
Ben Elton (We Will Rock You) - a screenwriter/novelist/playwright whose first musical was the commercially less successful Beautiful Game.

The point is that the commercial theatre seems quite happy to take a punt on first-timer musical book writers. That's probably because most people aren't primarily musical book writers. They are lyricists or playwrights or award-winning 70s Hollywood soundtrack supervisors who, for whatever reason, have found themselves with the unenviable task of writing the book for a musical.

"Then to make things even riskier, instead of getting a tried and tested composer to write the songs, the RSC went for a comedian, Tim Minchin"

Nope, the commercial theatre would never get a mere comedian to write the songs for a musical. Oops.

Whilst not an obvious choice, Tim Minchin was not completely left-field. For starters, he is/was not merely a comedian but is/was a songwriting comedian. For mains, he is/was a Roald Dahl fan and had even tried writing a musical of Matilda ten years earlier. For desserts, his dark and slightly twisted sense of humour is/was a perfect match for Roald Dahl (something that perhaps didn't quite work with Charlie and the Choclolate Factory with the more campy optimism of Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman).

"Could all of that have happened outside of a subsidised organisation? The answer is simple: no."

Actually the slightly more nuanced answer seems to be: possibly. I'm not saying that Matilda was risk-free. Far from it. It must have taken some far-sighted imaginings to bring that creative team together and nobody could have known the outcome. The point is that exactly the same risks are being taken in the commercial theatre. As Viva Forever proved, even the sure-firest kind of crowd-pleasing jukebox fare can go belly up.

Ah, but it's a different kind of risk.

"It's just that there is a different ethos when a theatre is largely funded with public money, a different sense of what it is you're responsible to and it allows for a different kind of risk, a risk that can lead to unexpected and peculiar things."

Well, this is an edited version of a longer speech, so I'll have to give Mr. Kelly the benefit of the doubt and assume the details have been lost. But if all you've got to show for the riskiness of subsidised theatre is "unexpected and peculiar things", then this is no case for more funding. Is Matilda any more "unexpected and peculiar" than Cats? Or We Will Rock You? Or Billy Eliott? In fact, "unexpected and peculiar" would make the perfect subtitle for my monumental yet-to-be-written masterpiece on the history of musical theatre.

I'm sure there are differences between the subsidised and commercial worlds but I'm not convinced it's to do with risk. I suspect it's more to do with process. Subsidised theatre offers longer development periods and ensemble casts which, I imagine, means more workshops and improvisation. The commercial world favours shorter rehearsal periods which, I imagine, means getting the script finalised before you start hiring the actors.

Really, I'm just guessing. The point is that, whatever the process, the final product is indistinguishable. Personally I would struggle to discern the subsidised qualities of Les Miz and Matilda from the commercial ones of Phantom of the Opera and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. They are all risky in their own ways.

Then again, so is all musical theatre.

Friday 7 February 2014

Interview with Louise Dearman

My interview with Wicked star Louise Dearman now available in issue 5 of the ever-thrillifying Musical Theatre Review (subscription required).

One interesting note about the interview was her comment on singing live as compared to singing in the studio:

“Very often with songs I’ve recorded for the album, there will be notes that I had to do ten times in the studio which live, with the crowd out there and the adrenalin pumping, I can nail.”

Which reminded me of Tom Daley. I remember the Olympic diver explaining in an interview how he could only perform the hardest dive (a quadruple somersault, I think) in competition. He couldn't do it in training because he needed the adrenalin of competition to give his body the extra speed required to make the turns.

It never occurred to me that the same might be true of musical performers. It backs up my previous little theory about performance: it's not the level of performance that matters so much as the risk that the performer takes. The more risk, the more thrilling the performance.

Furthermore it suggests that we should have as high a regard for top West End performers as we do for Olympians. And that Tom Daley should be the next Elphaba.