Tonight, I'm having a few friends over and we'll sing Rodgers songs all night,
in every tempo. When I was a kid, and Rodgers turned 75, I did the same thing.
My mother wrote him about his birthday party in absentia and he wrote back
that hearing of these youngsters singing his songs all night meant more to him
than a recent concert on the White House lawn where the president had praised
him.
Part of growing old is the nagging suspicion that kids today aren't aware of
the radical experiments the "traditional favorite" made so many years ago. In
1925, when Rodgers had his first hit, he and his contemporaries didn't like
what they saw on Broadway: it seemed stilted and unnatural, too much overblown
singing and not enough wit. You know, like a Wildhorn show. Rodgers had
attended Columbia just so he could write the Varsity Show (as did I) and there
met both Oscar Hammerstein and the greatest lyricist ever, Lorenz Hart. In
their first hit, "We'll have Manhattan, the Bronx and Staten Island too" the
20-somethings shook up the world with light and humorous turns of phrase set to
sprightly melodies. The following year they opened five musicals. Then they
decided to innovate some more, by musicalizing a Mark Twain novel (nobody had
adapted him before). When the depression hit, they headed for Hollywood, where
they created amazingly unusual films with extended musical sequences (the
camera following a tune as it gets hummed all over France) and rhymed dialogue.
When Broadway lured them back, they put a whole circus on stage, musicalized a
Shakespeare play, used narrative ballet, and spun a sexy story with an
anti-hero. And they didn't break rules just to break rules, either. They
were, always, looking for ways to entertain. When they had the idea to write a
show for a cast of young unknowns, they had the brilliant idea of writing for
kids as if they were adult sophisticates.
Once Hammerstein took over for Hart, the theatrical revolutions hit even
greater heights. No piece of American theatre changed things more than
Oklahoma, and Carousel is the first "dark" masterpiece. The King and I still
plays like gangbusters: a battle of wits pitting East vs. West and man vs.
woman, all set to glorious music that gives a flavor of Siam without slavish
imitation. And if the preachiness of South Pacific seems quaint to you,
imagine, forty years ago, Rodgers presenting an interracial romance and not
commenting on it, not preaching. And not a violin or cello in the orchestra.
Some songs are so familiar, we don't take time to stop and think of the
artistry that went into making them work so well: Where Or When, My Funny
Valentine, Some Enchanted Evening, Getting To Know You. Well, today would be a
good day to do so. I'd say it's also a good day to hum or sing a Richard
Rodgers melody, but I've a feeling everybody does that every blessed day.
http://hometown.aol.com/noelkatz/main.html
kaffitimi
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
noel...@aol.com (Noel Katz):
> ...and Carousel is the first "dark" masterpiece.
Oh, I think Show Boat is that. Nice tribute, though.
-- Rob Gordon
Bob
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