Poem for a jazzman

Rainy night in Manhattan

Old music school auditorium
Jammed with the faithful.

Concert shiva eulogy celebration
Funeral for a jazzman.

Lew Soloff
Don't the words just roll off
The tongue of the trumpeter.

Legendary horn
Born to crumble walls
Within music and without.

Spinning Wheel solo
Poured Blood, Sweat and Tears
Over rock and jazz together.

From the back of the house
Wynton Marsalis leads
A New Orleans brass band.

Paul Shaffer leading the orchestra
 at the Lew Soloff memorial.

Jazz fame walks mournful steps
Down the side of the hall,
Just A Closer Walk With Thee.

Then, the turn at the stage,
Didn't He Ramble?
Playing out the joy.

Almost met him.
A promise made
To an orchestra in Westchester -
He would play classical chops in
Shostakovich No. 5.

Then the terrible news
On the eve of the first rehearsal.
We were left only with the ashes
Of a concert program dedication.

At the show,
Emotions flow
And sometimes they use words.

Improvised solos, big band, classical,
Even a young cello protege.

Asian singer Grace Kelly
Bears lightly a famous name
And the future face of jazz.

Grief stalks the room
Like a living thing.
Bravely, their music
Rages against the dark.

Yet Lew is alive in every soul,
As music always lives.
Farewell, brass man.
Show the Angel Gabriel
How to blow.

Celebrating a theater legacy

Emotions were high both onstage and off as Byram Hills High School in Armonk, N.Y. on April 13 staged a performance of the musical Next to Normal with Broadway actors to benefit the school’s theater program and honor retiring teacher Joy Varley.

Her 28 years at the school (out of a 36-year career) were commemorated by a surprise announcement from Principal Christopher Borsari that each year’s theater troupe would be renamed the Varley Players. “In the life of an institution, the people who shape it should never be forgotten,” Borsari told a sold-out audience of parents, friends and alumni in the BHHS auditorium.

In addition, the performance’s music director, BHHS alumnus Jason Loffredo, premiered a song composed for the occasion and sung by the cast, called “Song to Joy.” He prefaced it by saying, “I would not be where I am in my life were it not for Joy Varley.” Loffredo is a well-known theatrical music director, pianist, composer and arranger.

Joy Varley

Both tributes were a surprise to Varley, who responded, “Thank you all for everything. This school district will be in my heart forever.” Before the performance, she noted the powerful impact of the arts and theater in particular on young lives, saying “the people who will create the future of our culture are standing on a high school stage today.” She announced that the benefit had so far raised $24,000.

The Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning show’s composer, Tom Kitt, returned to his old high school as keynote speaker for the evening, observing that “it feels like no time has gone by, then it feels like years and years.” (He graduated in 1992.) “To come back was a no-brainer to raise money for this wonderful program,” he said.

Participating in BHHS theater “changed my life,” he said, remembering a production of Into the Woods that powerfully influenced him. That Stephen Sondheim show uses fairy tales to tell stories of real people and he said he “started to go after theater that told more of those stories. The seeds of Next to Normal began there.”

 He spoke of theater’s ability to change lives, noting that the subject of Next to Normal, a family coping with the mother’s mental illness, was discussed at two school assemblies on the day of the performance. “Art is the great savior. It talks about issues that might be scary,” he said.

Talking about Next to Normal’s journey, he said it took 11 years for he and lyricist Brian Yorkey to bring the musical to Broadway, starting with a 10-minute version as part of a musical theatre development workshop. He also called his welcome at BHHS “quite overwhelming.”

As reported earlier on allaboutarmonk.com, alumni of BHHS who are professional actors and musicians gave up several Mondays off to rehearse and perform for the benefit. The semi-staged performance featured a seven-piece orchestra, including Loffredo conducting from the piano.

Lauryn Ciardullo (BHHS graduate 2004) brought a fragile and brittle edge to the character of Diana, a mother whose bipolar disorder haunts her family. As her husband Dan, BHHS Theater Director John Anthony Lopez conveyed the desperation of a man realizing his love for his wife may not be enough to hold the family together.

Jared Weiss (BHHS 2003) played the family’s compelling son Gabe with charm and an undertone of mischief. As daughter Natalie, Katerina Papacostas (BHHS 2006) portrayed a young woman longing for her mother’s love and attention and trying to understand she might only get crumbs. Guest artist Johnny Stellard played Natalie’s boyfriend Henry as a decent, caring person who in his way might be as steadfast as Dan.

As Dr. Madden, Jonah Piali (BHHS Assistant Theater Director) served up medical platitudes with compassion and also the right amount of bland professional attitude.

Orchestra members included J.J. Clarke (BHHS 1995) on drums and percussion, Craig Magnano on guitar, Kathy Shelhart (H.C. Crittenden Middle School Orchestra Director) on cello, Alan Lounsbury (BHHS Stage Conductor) on bass, Lori Horowitz (BHHS alumni parent) on violin and Robert DelGaudio on synthesizer.

The technical crew included BHHS Production Assistant Jim Gulick (production assistant), BHHS Tech Director Jamie LaJoie (sound design) and BHHS 1993 alumnus Mike Cummings (lighting design).

Ticket holders were invited to pre- and post-show receptions where alumni, parents and friends mingled with Varley, Kitt and the cast and crew.

This article originally appeared at allaboutarmonk.com.

A somber parade

Jason Robert Brown's musical Parade, which received a revelatory one-night concert production at Lincoln Center on Feb. 16, proves (as did Sweeney Todd) that you can make a show out of just about any material.

Parade is the true story of Leo Frank, a Jewish factory manager in Atlanta who was convicted in 1913 of murdering Mary Phagan, a 13-year-old worker. Anti-Semitism, corrupt local politics and crowd hysteria influenced his conviction and when his sentence in 1915 was commuted from death to life imprisonment, he was kidnapped from jail by a mob and lynched.

I had not seen the show when it premiered at Lincoln Center's Vivian Beaumont Theater in 1998. It got mixed reviews ("solemn," said Ben Brantley in the NY Times) and closed just two months later.

Lincoln Center seems to be its natural home, as this concert production 16 years later was in Avery Fisher Hall, home of the New York Philharmonic.

It was the third concert production of a Broadway musical recently staged by Manhattan Concert Productions (MCP), which also puts together music programs at Carnegie Hall and other venues.

MCP maintains a 30-member house orchestra, the New York City Chamber Orchestra, which proved to be a most impressive ensemble.

Composer (and lyricist) Brown conducted choir and orchestra with skilled assurance, showcasing his remarkable score to its best advantage. I was fortunate enough to see the original 2002 production of Brown's first musical, The Last Five Years, with Norbert Leo Butz and Sherie Rene Scott, and completely adored his most recent show, The Bridges of Madison County. With Parade, I'm a confirmed Jason Robert Brown admirer.

The story opens with the sunniest of American small-town traditions - a parade, in this case, the Confederate Memorial Day parade in Marietta, Ga., where a Civil War veteran sings "The Old Red Hills of Home," a skillful homage by Brown to Southern folk songs.

Quickly, however, alienation arrives as Frank, clearly uncomfortable as a Jewish northern transplant, sings "How Can I Call This Home?" and tell his wife that "I can't see how God created you Jewish and Southern at the same time."

Gary Griffin's direction and Brown's musical direction kept up the tension as Frank is arrested and local law enforcement and politicians whip up a frenzy designed to railroad him. However, the limitations of a semi-staged production and a balky sound system meant that sometimes it was hard to keep track of the characters.

Laura Benanti as Lucille Frank and Jeremy Jordan as Leo Frank 

Broadway stars Jeremy Jordan (also seen in the TV show Smash) and Laura Benanti traced the journey of Leo and Lucille Frank, from uncertainty through strain to love and support. Benanti particularly shone in the ballad "You Don't Know This Man," describing how the man she loves isn't the one portrayed as a murderer.

Jordan affectingly transmitted Leo's loneliness-in-a-crowd unease and he and Benanti climaxed the show with the duet "All the Wasted Time" as Lucille crusades for justice for him.

Joshua Henry, last seen in Violet, here brings down the house as a factory janitor and suspect in Phagan's murder, pointing the finger at Frank in "That'sWhat he Said."  

My connection at this show was to Ron Cameron-Lewis, an emeritus faculty member of Sheridan College's top-notch music theater degree program. The Mississauga, Ontario-based college mounted a production of Parade last year and composer/lyricist Brown invited 35 students to join the 200-voice choir that would be performing in the concert. (Sheridan also hosted a pre-show reception that brought back alumni starring in such Broadway shows as Beautiful and The Book of Mormon.)

Chorus members also came from ten other schools and from community choirs, selling out Avery Fisher Hall with friends and family, who were quite vocal in their enthusiasm and reactions to the show.

Given the subject matter, I'm not sure I'd be playing the CD of Parade regularly, but then again, Sweeney Todd is a favorite. I do know that I'm very glad to have made the acquaintance of this haunting show and to have filled out my knowledge of Jason Robert Brown's musicals.

Street theater

When I led drama workshops for a couple of years at a recurring “Children’s Day of Art” in Morristown, N.J., I would ask the kids, “what’s the difference between theater and drama?”

The simple answer is that theater usually takes place on a stage while drama is all around us. Today, however, I saw the drama of the streets create a unique form of theater, improvised, spontaneous, rapidly shifting and gone in an instant.

I walked down Lexington Ave. in Manhattan from 61^st St. to 43^rd St. at about 3:30 pm, when the late December sun was already beginning to head for its rest and twilight – the “blue hour” – began to shade the sky.

I walked with purpose toward the trains at Grand Central Terminal but at a medium pace, a little slower than usual. I gazed at the urban landscape with wondering eyes, open to whatever scenes might occur.

The "set" whispered its own stories - a banner from Cantor Fitzgerald, the financial firm that suffered terrible losses on 9/11, proclaiming New York "financial capital of the world;" Torino Jewelers' glistening show and a colorful truck proclaiming its allegiance to Turkey and the U.S., but overlaid with a graffiti artist's work.

Outside a hair/cosmetics salon, a tall, dark engaging young man was handing out samples of a face cream. 

His patter was so expert that I entered the store with him and found myself seated on a stool while he applied a little of the cream to the, um, laugh lines around my eyes. 

"My name is Leo," he said, asking for mine. He said that the first part of my name, "sol," is a musical note and that he was part Israeli. 

I glanced at the jar of cream he was using. It had a price tag of $450. 

"Leo," I said, smiling, "you are very charming and I'm sure the cream is wonderful. But I am putting my daughter though college and I will say good night." He smiled. I got up and left.

I passed Bloomingdale's and entered, not having been there for many years. Now, the department store's main floor is a series of brand boutiques - Coach, Gucci, Vuitton - each in an enclosed space, like a mall or a stage.

I found it odd and wandered, as did most of the other shoppers, in post-holiday stupor. I thought I might find a sweater on sale and traveled on the escalator up one floor, but only found $80 shirts. 

Back on the street, I gazed at stores whose purpose and merchandise I could not fathom - Superdry?

Twice on my walk, giant limousines - one black, one white - cruised down Lexington, headed for Saturday night revelry. In one, a passenger hung out an open window, videotaping the ride. 

As I approached Grand Central, I passed a middle-aged man holding out a paper cup, shaking the coins in it. I took out my wallet, circled back and put money in the cup. "What is your name?" "Mike."

I wanted to wish Mike well but my inner playwright failed me and came up with possibly the most inane line ever, under the circumstances: "Happy holidays, Mike."

I arrived at Grand Central, where the glittering railway house was inhaling travelers to the suburbs and exhaling the night's city explorers. 

As I headed home, where a vivid sunset greeted me, I realized that another difference between theater and drama is that a performance has an ending but the stories of the streets flow like an endless river.    

Steinway magic

Of late, it seems, this theater blog has been covering music. Well, what of it? The two are intertwined; every presentation of music has an element of theater and every piece of music tells a story.

Another element of music theater -- an awesome stage setting -- exists on West 57th Street in New York, the location of Steinway Hall, the 89-year-old flagship store, showroom, offices of Steinway & Sons, the legendary piano maker.

The rotunda, Steinway Hall

They almost made it to 90 at that site, but the building and the company have been sold. The good news is that Steinway continues under new ownership and is moving to new (though less ornate) quarters in Manhattan. The gorgeous rotunda, reminiscent of a Vienna salon, will be preserved in the new building that will arise around it.

Showroom and wood floor

I recently received a tour, courtesy of my friend Michael Cabe, institutional sales representative at Steinway. As he recited the building's history -- designed by Warren & Wetmore of Grand Central Terminal fame -- we walked through room after room of pianos.

Steinway Hall also has quite the art collection, with paintings of great pianists and composers, and such artists as N.C. Wyeth and Rockwell Kent represented. Note the wood floor in the photograph above. All the showrooms have that parquet floor, made from wood that came from the Steinway factories.

The company's 161-year history is well represented, also, with artifacts, small models of historic pianos and dioramas lining the halls. There are also custom pianos, such as the John Lennon model, which has his artwork on the music stand, his signature and song quotes.

The John Lennon piano

But what I was really excited about was seeing the storied basement, where concert artists from Horowitz to Gould to the greats of today came to try out pianos for their performances.

I had brought my Chopin book, thinking I could perhaps get to play one a little. I especially wanted to play the Prelude in C minor, No. 20, Op. 28, hoping to get every nuance of Chopin's profound chords, particularly in the bass clef, where the Steinway growls like a lion.

Before the basement, Michael showed me the room with the famous Model D nine-foot concert grands and graciously left me alone for a few minutes. I sat down at one of the instruments, was a little nervous at first, then started to relax into the experience and greatly enjoyed it.

On his return, Michael, who is a jazz pianist himself (here is his website) suggested I try another piano in the room, his favorite, and the minute I started playing it, I was in love. I went back to the other piano and played a chord, then dashed over to the new one and played the same chord.

It was astonishing -- this piano had a complex voice and a soul. Each note was so rich and deep; it seemed to contain shades of notes. The tone was bright, yet warm and intelligent. It was so responsive I felt I could play a range of dynamics between piano and pianissimo, or forte and fortissimo. When I finished, I put my head down on the piano and embraced the music stand. "I want this one," I said.

The Model D concert grand - incomparable.

The price tag was equally stupendous - $132,000, and that was on sale. Original price? $150,000.

I looked at the monthly payments, after a 10% down payment, and began to dream. But even if $1377 a month for ten years was doable, there was the little matter of fitting this aircraft carrier of an instrument inside an apartment's 20-foot living/dining space.

Worth every penny.

This is the Steinway magic. I can't forget that piano; it's living in my head now. Maybe I can convince Michael to let me play it one more time at Steinway Hall, or maybe it's already on its way to the new digs.

I would love to know where #596708 ends up; maybe in a music school where it could be accessed, who knows.

We did make our way down to the basement after that, where the ghosts live comfortably with their modern counterparts and men with large muscles move an average of one instrument a day in and out of the building.

But I left my heart up on the first floor, where #596708 awaits a caress from the next set of piano-loving hands.

Flowing melodies

Saturday nights may buzz with social energy, but Friday night should be a time when the cares and stress of the workweek are set aside at least for a few hours. The triumphs of the days just past can be savored and good work relished; conflicts and unfinished business perhaps will look better on Monday morning.

Last Friday, I ended the week by stepping into a musical world of peace and beauty - a performance by the Riverwinds Woodwind Quintet at New York University's Maison Francaise in Greenwich Village. (The group's name refers to the fact that several players are based in Westchester County towns on the Hudson River.)

La Maison Francaise, NYU, New York

Occupying a 19th-century carriage house on cobblestoned Washington Mews, the Maison hosted the performance in its elegant cream-colored ground-floor salon.

I'm no stranger to chamber music, but it's been mostly string quartets and chamber orchestras. However, the woodwind quintet - flute, oboe, bassoon, horn and clarinet - isolates those breath-supported voices that transform the very air.

What colors result! In the hands of these Riverwinds players, Sally Frank's sparkling flute, Troy Messenger's piercing oboe, Nicholas Evans' soulful bassoon, Leslie Mantrone's clarion horn and Gary Mayer's singing clarinet wove a tapestry of sweet, delicate music far removed from aggressive strings or percussive orchestral bombast.

Riverwinds Woodwind Quintet
From left, Troy Messenger, oboe; Nicholas Evans, bassoon;
 Leslie Mantrone, horn; Sally Frank, flute; Gary Mayer, clarinet

The all-French program contained wondrous discoveries around every corner. These were a few favorites:

Ravel's four-part Le Tombeau de Couperin was written as a memorial to friends killed in World War I.

The sprightly first movement (Prélude) seems at odds with such a somber subject, but, as Ms. Frank noted, Ravel said, "the dead are sad enough, in their eternal silence."

The first movement of Gounod's Petite Symphonie (there is a sound file on this web page, if you want to listen to it), arranged by Mayer for Riverwinds, begins with a majestic adagio, then swings into an irresistibly bouncy allegretto.

I was not familiar with the work of Jacques Ibert, but who could resist the sunny first movement (Allegro) of three short pieces (Trois Pièces Brèves).

However, the piece that really transported me out of jangly urban Manhattan was Milhaud's Le Cheminée du Roi René, a work with a medieval flavor that references the 15th-century king, René of Anjou. The seventh and final movement is the poignantly serene Madrigal-Nocturne.

Clearly one of New York's more-accomplished wind quintets, Riverwinds created a sublime program that brought the week to a close with harmony and grace.

Back to Saigon

Heading for a production of Miss Saigon at the Irvington Clocktower Players in Irvington, N.Y., I wondered whether the musical would seem like a period piece, in the general sense and for me personally.

Next April will be the 40th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, a phrase that conjures up a host of sensations for anyone who remembers the Vietnam War. I first saw Miss Saigon in 1993 in its landmark Toronto production. (The producers built a whole theater for it.) So both these dates are fairly far in the past.

The other question in my mind was theatrical. When the show opened in London in 1989, it was well known for a particular special effect - a helicopter descending to the stage to pluck away American and Vietnamese evacuees as Saigon succumbed to Communist forces. So how could a community theater measure up?    

Pretty impressively, even with minimal set design.

It's possible that David Lovett's set of movable frames covered in translucent fabric and black boxes that become a bed, a bar, etc. actually put more focus on the human characters slammed by the viciousness of war.

Although my flip response in 1993 to Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alain Boublil's updating of Madame Butterfly was "Puccini did it better," this time the story and music affected me more deeply.

"Butterfly" is Kim (Mika Nishida), a girl from the countryside caught up in the Saigon bar scene, catering to American soldiers. 

Brent McGee as Chris and Mika Nishida as Kim

   

One of them, Chris (Brent McGee), falls in love with her and she with him, but they are separated in the chaos of the war's end.

Pushing the action forward is a Eurasian nightclub hustler/pimp/con man called The Engineer (Paul Aguirre), who washes up in Bangkok after the war where Kim has given birth to Chris' son.

Several years later, Chris arrives in Bangkok, having learned that Kim and his son are there -- but he is also accompanied by his American wife. Tragedy ensues.

Paul Aguirre as The Engineer

The singing, acting and dancing are uniformly very strong - Nishida and Aguirre are Equity actors and McGee lists opera as well as musical credits.

Nishida is an experienced Kim, as her bio notes she first played the role in 1999 in the second national Broadway tour and that this will probably be the last time.

Although she is clearly not 17, Nishida beautifully communicates Kim's innocence, core of steel and overriding love for her child. McGee's Chris is a man who is basically decent but trapped in the ultimate no-win situation.

Aguirre's Engineer will survive wherever he finds himself, on a combination of smarts, cunning, deviousness and wicked humor. He is, of course, the most interesting character in the show.  

Mention also must go to Michael Terry as Chris' friend John, Miguel Angel Acevedo as Kim's cousin Thuy, Laura Donaldson as Chris' wife Ellen and the statuesque Janina Gonzalez as the poignant bar girl Gigi, who actually wins the "Miss Saigon" contest.

Director David Robertson keeps an intense focus on the songs, supported by a topnotch 13-piece band, conducted by George H. Croom. Larry Alexander's sound design was crystal-clear although for me the volume could have been dialed down just a notch.

Lovett also did the lighting design and the effects are achieved through lighting and sound. I did think the set was a bit too sparse throughout the first act and wondered why the designer didn't make more use of projections, especially since Terry's song, "Bui-Doi," is accompanied by projections of Amerasian children left behind by U.S. servicemen.

One adjective you can't apply to Miss Saigon is "subtle," and I think Robertson could have brought the emotions down just a little - actually, "Bui-Doi" is an example. When the actors are using up all the air in the room, it's hard for the audience to feel.

So did it feel like belonged in the past? Yes and no. I think anyone who was not alive at the time can't appreciate the show from the same viewpoint - and that's probably my prejudice. However, anyone can realize that universal themes of love and, sadly, of conflict exist now and have through the ages.

As for Clocktower Players, now that I know the high level of their productions, this won't be the last time I'll be seeing one of their shows.