About the author:
The term "man of the theater" is tossed around a lot, but in the case of Theodore S. Chapin—known to all as Ted—it fits perfectly. While still in college, Chapin got his start as a go-fer during the out-of-town development of Sondheim's Follies, an experience he re-created in a fascinating book, Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical "Follies". After graduation, he worked in various production positions before joining the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization, where he now serves as President and Executive Director, in 1981. It was a perfect fit: Chapin's theatrical smarts and collaborative nature helped pave the way for Tony Award-winning Broadway revivals of Carousel, Show Boat, The King and I, Annie Get Your Gun and now the smash-hit revival of South Pacific, which has received a whopping 11 Tony nominations. Broadway.com asked Chapin to chart the path of Lincoln Center Theater's lavish production, the first Broadway mounting of South Pacific since the original nearly 60 years ago.
In the locker room of the gym in my high school was a sign that read: "Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity." Regarding South Pacific at Lincoln Center Theater, I feel like one very lucky guy.
The preparation: I learned, through several failed attempts over my 25+ years at the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization, that South Pacific for Broadway is a tricky proposition. It was conceived by a group of theater heavyweights in a very timely moment in the country's history. How could you place a modern audience in the same mind-set that greeted this post-World War II show during its initial run?
Furthermore, its iconic lead performers—one Broadway star Mary Martin and one elegant visitor from the opera world Ezio Pinza—made people feel it was a "star vehicle." Various attempts at returning the show to Broadway were usually discussed in that manner: So-and-so De Becque in South Pacific. Or so-and-so Nellie in South Pacific. One marquee name to carry the necessary weight, and then the other part would be cast from the best talent available. Oh, and we might have to do something about all that war stuff.
The opportunity: That probably started when composer Adam Guettel, grandson of Richard Rodgers and one of the authors we represent officially, began to work with librettist Craig Lucas on The Light in the Piazza. Craig, as Associate Artistic Director of the Intiman Theater in Seattle, suggested the Intiman as the best place to mount the initial production, in partnership with Chicago's Goodman Theatre. Bartlett Sher was Intiman's Artistic Director, and when a change in director for the production was deemed necessary, Bart was a logical choice. One concern: None of us knew his work. But he did take over the direction as the show made its way to the Goodman, where Andre Bishop, Artistic Director of Lincoln Center Theater, saw it. Andre was sufficiently impressed that he offered to produce it, even though he knew there was more work to be done. And so The Light in the Piazza came to Lincoln Center in spring 2005.
From my vantage point, which was more as an observer than a participant, I watched a brilliant collaboration unfold. In addition to Bart Sher, the artists who labored to get The Light in the Piazza into shape included set designer Michael Yeargan, costume designer Catherine Zuber, musical director Ted Sperling and, of course, authors Guettel and Lucas, guided by the masterful hand of Andre Bishop.
Generally it's hard to quantify what a producer does, but in the case of Lincoln Center Theater, the consistently high quality of the work, with the necessary resources always applied appropriately, tells you a lot about both the creative side and the business side of producing. Andre's partner Bernard Gersten is the business guy, and together they have produced countless first-rate evenings of a wide variety of offerings. I sat in awe as a musical filled with promise transformed into an extraordinary evening in the theater.
Fast forward to the 2005 Carnegie Hall concert of South Pacific starring Reba McEntire and Brian Stokes Mitchell. It was a thrilling evening. In the days following, my phone seemed to ring non-stop: The combination of the show not having been heard in New York for many a year, as well as never having been revived on Broadway, caused several heavyweight producers to lobby hard for the rights. And then came a call from Andre Bishop. After congratulating me on the concert, he reminded me once again just how much he loved South Pacific. Were we to grant him the rights, he said, he would take the creative team from The Light in the Piazza and assign them to South Pacific.
Now that's an interesting idea, I thought. Truthfully, not for a moment had it occurred to me that the Piazza team would be right for South Pacific. It seemed just about perfect. When I hung up the phone, I knew this was the way to go. And my R&H bosses, Mary Rodgers and Alice Hammerstein, agreed.
Somehow I knew that however Andre and his colleagues approached the show, they would come up with a first-rate production. Of course, all I can really do in my job is steer the properties under this office's control to the people we believe can do the best job. Once we decide who will get the rights, it is up to them to succeed or fail. But along the way, Andre, Bart and everyone connected with the production asked smart questions, looked at drafts of scripts supplied by us, read through the original Michener book, even teased me with mentions of a "coup de théâtre" that they were trying to make work within their budget.
Mary, Alice and I were welcomed into the room to give our opinions, and once offered, they were listened to. In fact and I hope he doesn't mind my quoting this, in an e-mail he sent me during the middle of previews, Andre Bishop wrote the following, after saying how many people base their notes or comments on previous productions: "What is great is that you and everyone at R&H do not do that; quite the opposite. You all have been open and wonderful in every way about what Bart wants to do."
That's about the best thing any producer could say to a rights holder. We are here to help, and if our knowledge of these shows isn't used in a positive way, what's the point of being part of the collaboration?
So back to the luck. Yes, I feel lucky with this production. The opportunity turned out to be the right one, and the timing turned out to be eerily appropriate. We knew the country was involved in a war, but who knew there would be a national dialogue on race heating up around the beginning of previews? That made the show take on a whole different aura. But even more basic than that, our collaborators did their work better than I could ever have wished for. In Kelli O'Hara and Paulo Szot, they found two leading performers who not only give star performances, but make people accept this show as if it had never been seen before. And the rest of the cast that Lincoln Center Theater found is equally remarkable.
Just to be in the Vivian Beaumont Theater during a performance and hear both the whoops of joy when a familiar song has been performed and the stillness of a thousand people leaning forward and listening quietly to what is happening in the story, is a joy. And to hear—and see, but I shouldn't give that part away—a 30-piece orchestra, made up of the absolute best of New York instrumentalists, dive into this wondrous score…
Well, I guess I can say that I am thrilled, and I'm also very proud. Preparation met opportunity at South Pacific, and a lot of passionate theatergoers have told me they're feeling pretty lucky now, too.