Giants in the Sky
Joanne Bogart thought the best way to pay homage to theater icons was to write a musical about them. And she did! The off-Broadway musical parody The Musical of Musicals: The Musical! book and lyrics by Bogart with music by Eric Rockwell, features hilarious musical scores, celebrating Broadway show tunes by such greats as Stephen Sondheim, John Kander & Fred Ebb, Andew Lloyd Webber and Jerry Herman. Before penning this comic tribute to musical theater, Bogart appeared in Milk and Honey for the American Jewish Theatre. So, how did these icons react to this musical about their musicals? How did Bogart react to meeting these theater giants? Read on!
Eric and I are often asked if any of the writers we satirize in The Musical of Musicals: The Musical! have come to see the show, and what their reaction was. Well, let's see. Of course, there was the time Stephen Sondheim came. Ah yes, it's all coming back to me...
I had just finished a matinee performance and was returning to my dressing room, when I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a voice timidly call my name, "Miss Bogart?"
"Yes, what is it?" I snapped with annoyance, expecting to see another one of my fans, the little people, the riff-raff, starry-eyed by the brilliance of my performance. "Can't you see I'm bus--…?" I turned instead to see the gaunt face of yes, you guessed it Stephen Sondheim.
"Hello, Steve," I said. "It's been a long time." And it had. So long, in fact, that I couldn't really remember when I had last seen him--if ever. I ushered him into my dressing room, quickly dismissing my maid, Fifi, who had been arranging my flowers and drinking from my secret stash of Jack Daniels. "I'll deal with you later," I snarled to her in a whisper, and then tripped her on her way out. Finally alone, I said, "Well, Steve, what can I do for you?"
"Stop it," he said. "For the love of God, just stop it!" He broke down in sobs, whimpering, a broken shell of a man.
"Oh, Steve," I said, gently rocking his head. "Steve. Stevie. Stevie-baby. Stevie-bubby. Stephen darling…"
He broke away from me violently. "You've made me realize that everything I have ever done in my life was bad. Bad, bad, bad! But you, everything you do is good. Good, good, good! I hate you!" He threw the door open in a rage of despair. "I, I, … I quit show business!" And with that he ran screaming into the night.
I poured myself a stiff one from what was left after Fifi got through with it. I took a good hard look at myself in the mirror. "Who's that woman?" I wondered staring at the bitterly triumphant face of someone who's clawed her way to the top. Then, throwing my head back in a loud cackle, I toasted my reflection--"Here's to us. Who's like us? Damn few!"
OK, OK, none of this happened. Mr. Sondheim I couldn't call him 'Steve' if my life depended on it did come to a matinee, though. He came backstage afterward and was utterly gracious, staying to pose for pictures with the cast in the fluorescent glow of the green room at the York Theatre. He was very complimentary to us all, although I can't remember his exact words. Eric and I were like deer caught in the headlights--we stammered our thanks and tried to express our appreciation for his genius and gratitude for his presence. By all reports of those in the audience with him, he had laughed heartily and seemed to enjoy the afternoon.
So, that was our brush with greatness. Actually, we've had several others. John Kander came to the show that same day for the evening performance and was equally charming backstage. Fred Ebb attended the show about a week before he died. Ours was probably the last show he ever saw. He said how glad he was to see something so smart and witty running in New York, and sent flowers to us all the next day. Jerry Herman has not yet come, but Carol Channing did, and assured us that Jerry would love it. And why would she lie? Hal Prince, Arthur Laurents, Tom Jones--all echoed a similar sentiment--that this kind of wit and sophisticated silliness were sorely missed these days. It does a writer's heart good, I can tell you. Especially coming from them--the old guard.
You see, in meeting them in person, I was also transported to the netherworld of theatrical greatness. In shaking the hand of Kitty Carlisle Hart, I was immediately connected to the world of Kaufman and Hart and George and Ira Gershwin. With Jo Sullivan, the spirit of Frank Loesser was right there. Speaking casually with Mary Rodgers, I couldn't help but think of my one degree of separation from Richard Rodgers. Even with Mr. Sondheim, the presence of Oscar Hammerstein, his mentor, was not so very far away. I was practically within reach of these giants in the sky.
Then there was the time I met--oops, look at the time. Well, I must be off. One can't be late for the theater. Besides I have to get there before that damn Fifi!