Whistling in the Dark

Barbara Jane Mackie, authoress a new musical Rumpy Pumpy, has some advice for any fellow travellers embarking on the stormy seas of a new musical theatre writing:

"Ok, folks. I am doing it and only have a very rusty grade 5 Piano (ended up after six years of lessons only being able to play a John Mayall’s Blues song and badly after too many drinks!) so be VERY ENCOURAGED, people, because if this particular writer can cobble together her FIRST MUSICAL so can you!"

Fear not. In terms of musical education, Grade 5 Piano puts you somewhere in between Lionel Bart and Leonard Bernstein. And remember - it can't be wrong if you write it in capitals.

"Step one: wait until the dead of night in your darkened bedroom (must be pitch black) and drag your phone to your ear and press the ‘record’ button. Step Two: Get into the character you are creating for – in my case ‘RUMPY PUMPY!’ ‘s main character, Holly, a Brothel owner) and think yourself IN. Step three, get under that duvet so husband and lurking teens in nearby bedrooms can’t hear you and start to warble away – one note after another – into your record section of your phone. Step three: Banish all those demons and lurking critics in your head and GO FOR IT -sing a note, sing two, sing three. Does it sound shite? Maybe, but that doesn’t matter – onwards, mon brave! Step Four: Just force out the notes, they will come, I promise! This particular writer has a rusty/coffee-stained voice so you can imagine that my croaking is anything but effective but you must FORCE yourself to believe in your ability to COMPOSE!"

Not for some an education in the finer points of the centuries-developed Western tonal system. Just believe.

"Now ‘Compose’ is a very weighty word which scares the living daylights out of most of us – it certainly did me! – but press on. Agreed, this darkened duvet crazy way of creating is certainly not for the feint hearted, but as said, if Barbara Jane Mackie can write a Musical so can you! Be brave. Step Five: play back the few notes – maybe just four or five in sequence – that you have recorded and reflect. Shite or semi-shite or … ok-ish? If ok-ish, pat yourself on the back and think of some lyrics to match your warblings – this can help the process, believe me – and then do another RECORD. Be brave – do it! How does it sound now? Like a tune? If you have a tune, then you are technically a composer and pour yourself a large brandy and go to sleep, dreaming dreams of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Oscar glory!"

Well, you've got to admire her pluck. And I do.

But it's also a reminder that musicals, unlike opera, are for everyone. Few would ever feel capable of writing an opera, but a musical? Why not? The book is just talking, the lyrics are just talking in rhyme and the music is just tunes you can hum. Let's have a crack.

It's tempting to be cynical about such an attitude but, in truth, I'm envious. Some of us are too prone to endless analysis about things like structure, form, style and the scopo- and audio-philic significance of Michael Crawford. In the end, musical theatre is a practical art; more to be done than to be thought about.

Ultimately, as per Ms Mackie, to write a musical - absurd idea that it is - requires a certain amount of belief or, at least, deliberate self-delusion. Which reminds me of tennis.

Famously grumpy player-turned-pundit John McEnroe was commenting on a Wimbledon match. One of the players had just lost a point and was complaining about it to the umpire. "Absolutely right," said Macca. "You blame the umpire, you blame the net, you blame the ball boy. You have to, otherwise you end up blaming yourself and then you're finished."

I paraphrase. But the point is that perhaps a large amount of belief in your own ability is necessary to be a professional sports person. Sometimes, when the chips are down, you need to protect that belief even to the extent of deliberately deluding yourself simply to get you through the next point. I wonder if it's the same with writing a musical.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I must find a duvet to hide under.

Some Thoughts on The Scottsboro Boys

A small comment of mine posted over at the very excellent Civilian Theatre blog concerning their review of Kander and Ebb's The Scottsboro Boys:

"Thanks for your review. I hesitate to comment as I didn't actually get to see The Scottsboro Boys, although I have done quite a bit of research on the show. But, caveat aside, I do have one quibble with your very interesting comparison with The Book of Mormon (which I have seen). If that show is, at times, 'surprisingly conservative', that's not necessarily an attempt to appease Middle America (given the content, I can't imagine that it's really a Middle America kind of a show). Rather it's that Mormon is an equal opportunites offender, happy to satirise everyone and everything. The Scottsboro Boys, on the other hand, seems to be satirising one thing - Southern racism - and then implicating everyone, i.e. the audience, in exactly the same kind of racism. So the satire is working in different ways (although, you're absolutely right, Mormon is more juvenile than Juvenalian). But, it seems to me, both shows are genuinely challenging. Just because one has been commercially successful, that doesn't make it any less so. To put it another way, which is more likely to garner compassion from a liberal Broadway audience? A poor black victim of Southern injustice or a Mormon? As I said, I'm speaking from semi-ignorance, so could well be off the mark. Still, yours is the most interesting review of The Scottsboro Boys that I've read. So thanks again and keep up the good work."

Some further thoughts.

I've talked a bit about concept musicals before (here and here). In fact, they probably shouldn't be called concept musicals but they usually are so I'll stick with the label for now. One of the limitations of the form, I think, is the fact that the basic concept is always the same. That is, the story is "framed" as an entertainment.

What is interesting is that in the most successful shows that use this device, the framing entertainment is also part of the story. But they are not the whole story. Let's see how this works for Kander and Ebb shows.

In Cabaret, Sally Bowles is a cabaret singer. But the show isn't just about cabaret. It's also about how showbiz can, at first, hide people from ("Leave your troubles outside") and, ultimately, seduce people into accepting ("If you could see her through my eyes...she wouldn't look Jewish at all") an ugly political reality

In Chicago, both leads are wannabe vaudeville stars. But it's not just about vaudeville. It's also about how showbiz can corrupt both the media and the justice system. (Also, according to the costume design, it appears to be about underwear.)

In my previous post I had a niggle about another concept show (not a Kander and Ebb one) Catch Me If You Can, in which the story is framed as a sixties television special. But sixties television has nothing to do with the actual story which is about a serial forger and deceiver. All we have is a loose parallel between the "fakeness" of the conman and the "fakeness" of a television entertainment.

I wonder if the same is true of The Scottsboro Boys, which is about the unjust trial of a group of black men and framed as a traditional minstrel show (including racial stereotyping blacks). But minstrelsy has nothing directly to do with the actual story (as far as I'm aware - again, I'm speaking from semi-ignorance, so happy to be corrected). Instead what we get is a loose parallel between the racism of minstrel shows and the racism of the Southern justice system.

Now, at this point, it's worth making a distinction. I remember the great Broadway producer/director Hal Prince being interviewed one time and saying that it wasn't until late on in his career that he really began to appreciate the distinction between a hit show and a successful show. As I recall, it was around the time that he stopped having hits.

So we should make this distinction: Cabaret and Chicago were hits, The Scottsboro Boys was a success. So this is not to diss The Scottsboro Boys, merely to distinguish it. But it seems that, when it comes to concept musicals (Kander and Ebb ones, at least), audiences prefer that the framing device used to tell the story should also be part of the story. Perhaps this is because it makes it easier for the audience to accept the framing device.

One further further thought.

The framing device of The Scottsboro Boys is a minstrel show and the songs and, as I understand it, the choreography and staging recreate much of the styles and tropes of a traditional minstrel show. Except for one: blackface. Indeed the blacking up of performers (both white and black) is arguably the defining feature of minstrel shows.

Would this have worked? Would it have just been too shocking? Frankly, would it even be legal?

I refer back to Civilian Theatre's excellent review:

"Kander and Ebb are well aware of the power of humour to shock and use jokes like verbal hand grenades; the audience often confronted with the sight of two black men forced into playing the archetypal ‘uncle Tom’ roles for their entertainment and internally reconcile the fact that they have laughed at their ‘antics’. This is comedy operating at the very edge of tragedy, and it is all the more powerful for it."

If the premise is to implicate the audience by getting them to laugh along with the antics of a racist minstrel show, then do we really need to see a racist minstrel show?

I don't know. I imagine that, even if the creators had attempted to use blackface, the controversy around such a show, assuming such a show could get staged in the first place would have distracted entirely from the show itself. To be honest, I feel a bit weird even mooting the idea. Such are modern sensitivities.

The Scottsboro Boys throws up a lot of questions. The answers are never black and white.

The Future Sound of British Musical Comedy

So my newest favourite singer-songwriter is Gwyneth Herbert. She is the composer/lyricist of the new musical The A-Z of Mrs P. Previously I blogged on one of the pre-released songs from the show "Lovely London Town".

Now listen to her song "Perfect Fit" from the EP Clangers and Mash:

"Look at my life, look at my dreams
And the wonder that the sky, it seems
So blue, so blue
And I smile as I sit,
As I found my Perfect Fit
And it is you
Yeah, it's you"

Is that not the future sound of modern British musical comedy? It's tuneful, but it's not old-fashioned. It's full of rhyme, but it doesn't sound like Stiles and Drewe. It has none of the eager-to-please forcefulness of a Broadway comedy number. It's simple, fresh and fun. And it's sung in a natural English accent.

It's got the feel of one of those optimistic Irving Berlin weather songs ("Blue Skies" or "Isn't it a Lovely Day?") but transplanted to a modern-day British seaside town. (Speaking of which, Gwyneth Herbert's song cycle Sea Cabinet, inspired by the Suffolk coast, is also well worth a listen.)

From the crits I've read, The A-Z of Mrs P has had a so-so reception. Well, that's a shame and I hope it doesn't put Ms Herbert off the musicals game. I have heard the future and her name is Gwyneth.

Era End, There an End

There has been some talk of late about the West End closings of both Lord Andy's musical Stephen Ward and Sir Timmy's From Here To Eternity.

Now I don't pretend to know why. If I were being flippant then I'd suggest that they probably should have swopped shows. Stephen Ward sounds like the kind of story that could use a bit of Sir Timmy cynicism and, personally, I'd love to have heard how Lord Andy scored Deborah Kerr whilst frolicking on a beach. (This doesn't sound right - ed.)

Who knows? Well, in the case of Stephen Ward, Michael Billington does. Not 'nough romance, apparently:

"His [Lloyd Webber's] great gift is for writing music about either fulfilled or unrequited romantic passion....But the problem is that Stephen Ward, a re-creation of the hypocrisy at the heart of the British establishment in the early 1960s, cried out for the kind of satirical bite one associates with Kander and Ebb musicals such as Cabaret or Chicago."

The idea of Lord Andy as a romantic composer is correct in that he writes big tunes that wring the emotions. But that doesn't mean that he can only write romantic stories. There's little romance in Joseph, Jesus Christ Superstar, Cats or Starlight Express. But they all did pretty well.

When assessing His Lordship's output his critics tend to place too much emphasis on the high romance of Phantom of the Opera and too little emphasis on his collaborators. If Stephen Ward did indeed require the "satirical bite" of a Kander and Ebb musical then it needed an Ebb as much as a Kander. Stephen Ward's lyricist Don Black is a funny writer but not a satirical one. Lord Andy may not have been the only one who was mismatched to the subject matter.

But, as I said, I don't really know.

What's interesting is that some (OK, one - step forward Mark Shenton) have suggested that with both Stephen Ward and From Here to Eternity closing, this marks something of an era. This is, of course, hooey. The Lloyd Webber/Rice era ended yonks ago. Lord Andy's last hit was in 1993 (Sunset Boulevard) and Sir Timmy's was in 1997 (Lion King).

The fact that we're still looking to these fellas to produce the goods is not only an indication of the scale of their past success but also a comment on what has (or hasn't) come after them.