by Jonathan Frank
JRB: Yes. In May I will have a new show opening at the Northlight Theatre in Chicago, which Daisy [Prince, the original director of Songs for a New World] is directing. It's a character piece called The Last Five Years. In its simplest form it's about a man and a woman who fall in love, get married and then get divorced. The woman tells her side of the story from the end of the marriage backwards, the man tells his from the first date forwards, and they do it in alternating segments. They are never in the same place at the same time except in the middle when they get married. So you get to see from two perspectives how things are created and how they are falling apart.
JF: Are you writing the book as well?
JRB: There's not a whole lot of dialogue per se ...
JF: But you are responsible for coming up with the concept and the story.
JF: Which brings up the ever popular question of what exactly is the dividing line, in terms of responsibilities, between the person who writes book and the person who writes the lyrics.
JRB: It's a structural issue as opposed to a dialogue issue. Anybody who says, "this is what the show looks like in its over-arching form" is responsible, in part at least, for the book. The dialogue is certainly important if you have it ... God knows with Parade, if Alfred's contribution had been limited to the dialogue, he would have been done in an hour and a half. It's brilliant dialogue and it's wonderful, but there's not a lot of it. Obviously his contribution was in determining the structure and the tone of the show.
JF: What song in Songs for a New World represents your earliest work?
JRB: The oldest fragment is "She Cries." Most of it was written in 1989, and the bridge was written in 1992. "I'm not Afraid of Anything" is the oldest complete song, and it was written in 1990.
JF: I heard that a songbook of your music is in the works ...
JRB: I keep talking to my publisher to get the proofs to me. We're having a lot of trouble getting together a book that we actually like because the songs are so long. "She Cries" is twenty some-odd pages ... it doesn't sound like that, but it is ... it's just endless! In trying to create a folio, you want to balance the number of pages with what people are going to be willing to pay. We've been trying to get the songs into forms which are more compact, so we won't have to waste the forests of several small countries.
JF: It is interesting how frequently I have heard "Stars and the Moon" sung recently ... usually by people who are way too young to be singing it.
JRB: It's amazing to me that people can listen to a show and isolate the four minutes that somehow captures their ear. I know it's a very popular song and a very resonant song, but I never felt like it was the best song in the show ... but I'm glad everybody likes it so much.
JF: What song do you consider to be your 'best;' that is the one that you are most proud of writing?
JRB: Some stuff from the new show is very exciting and I am very proud to have written it. Absent that, a song called "Music of Heaven" is what I wish every song of mine could be. It's an amazing song.
JF: Is it recorded?
JRB: No. It needs a choir, which is the difficulty of performing it. But we're doing it with the New York Pops at a big concert that they are doing on November 17th. They are going to be doing a tribute to me and Ricky Ian Gordon, Adam Guettel and Michael John LaChiusa. They will be doing about 25 minutes of my stuff, and the last thing will be "Music of Heaven" with orchestra and choir, so that should be a blast.
JF: Any plans to record that concert?
JRB: I doubt it. It would be nice, but you know, everybody is very enthusiastic about all of us, but nobody has made any money off any of us. So things like records and big advances and commissions are still a ways off ... for me at least. I think we're all treading water until one of us hits.
JF: Is that circle of composers good friends or at least acquaintances?
JRB: We all say nice things about each other! I've known Adam [Guettel] off and on for about 10 years. I wouldn't say we're friends ... we don't travel in the same circles ... but we certainly get on just fine. I think he's just extraordinary. I traveled to Philadelphia by myself, which is completely not like me, to see the first reading of Floyd Collins because I just wanted to see what he did. I was in shock and he still knocks me out. I have a little more interesting relationship with Michael John [LaChiusa]; I was the music director for his show The Petrified Prince at the Public. We admire each other a lot ... at least I hope it's reciprocal ... but I don't think we'll ever be the sort to 'hang out.' Ricky Ian [Gordon] is just the sweetest man you'll ever meet in your life, and I feel lucky just to know him. The other day I got a letter from him out of nowhere saying how much he enjoyed listening to Parade that day, and I wrote back and said "You're the guy!"
You know, the real problem, and I hope they'll forgive me for saying this, but all four of us are exceedingly neurotic, which makes normal friendship difficult when there's any kind of competition or pressure. And let's face it, there's plenty of both of those things.
JF: And here I was hoping that the four of you were constantly hanging out ... the next generation of musical theater composers forming a new Algonquin Round Table or something like that.
JRB: You know, I really resist claiming that we're the "new generation" ...
JF: It's hard not to. For the longest time there was all this bitching and moaning about "Where is the new blood?" The "Where is the next generation of composers to lead us into the millennium" sort of thing. Frank Wildhorn was about the only new voice that appeared for quite a while, and now all of a sudden there is this huge influx of similarly aged writers on the scene.
JRB: It's arbitrary. Steve Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens I think are about the same age as, say, Ricky Ian Gordon. So all this talk that the four of us are the 'new' generation is really weird. I think Steve and Lynn did a lot in paving the way for us. Look, Once on This Island remains one of the greatest things I ever saw, and Ragtime is wonderful; I don't think I would have been as confident in my work without them. It also conveniently ignores a lot of people who are doing things that are just as significant, if not more so, like Andrew Lippa or Matt Sklar or Jake Heggie. I mean I'm very grateful for the attention that I have been getting, but it seems arbitrary that the four of us who happened to show up on Audra's record are the four people who get all the attention.
JF: I noticed in your bio that you did orchestrations for Sondheim at Carnegie Hall. That would have been right when you moved to New York! Don't tell me that the first job you got in New York was arranging the entire concert?
JRB: No, I just did the songs for The Tonics, which was a group I was sort of music directing at the time. I came into town and started playing at piano bars and I met The Tonics. Someone had recommended me to them, since there aren't a lot of people in piano bars or in musical theater that play rock and roll with any kind of facility. And it was a lovely experience, because right when I started working with them they took off and I got to be in the middle of it.
JF: You seem to be quite the master of timing ...
JRB: I kind of think it's the opposite; if I were the true master of timing, Parade would still be running!
JF: Well, I am looking forward to seeing it finally. I saw Fosse again recently and I still can't believe it won the Tony for Best Musical.
JRB: It's fine, but it's not a musical.
Look, here's the thing ... you don't win "Best Musical" because you're the best musical. Everyone who reads this board has figured that out already. You win because the show is valuable to the greatest number of people if you win. The shame about Fosse winning Best Musical is that it isn't valuable to anyone except tour presenters. The show doesn't really add to anyone's understanding of Fosse's work, that's for sure, and it's not some groundbreaking and exciting form of revue; it's just a bunch of dances that you either saw or didn't see the first time around. And that's fine, but it's not a musical. So the lesson learned here is that the tour presenters are extremely influential in deciding how the Tonys are awarded, because nobody else had any reason to vote for Fosse.
I'm not saying they should have voted for Parade, because I don't think any of us expected to win. But Footloose and Civil War were two shows produced by large corporations that could really have used a Best Musical Tony to prop up business, and they couldn't get anyone to care enough about them to vote that way. So instead, a show that had absolutely no original material, which will have no life at all in stock and amateur sales ... that most Broadway people couldn't care less about one way or the other ... beat out three shows containing original material which could theoretically be done in high schools and colleges for the next fifty years. That's instructive.
JF: You did win a Tony, however, for writing the music and lyrics for Parade. I heard that two weeks after you won it you were working as the audition pianist for The Scarlet Pimpernel ...
JRB: That was a favor I did ... well not a favor exactly ... Mark Simon, who was the casting director for Parade was also at the time the casting director for Pimpernel, so as a private joke he would call me in to play for auditions.
JF: It's interesting to hear things like that ... because the perception is that once you win a Tony, you don't have to do things like that ever again.
JRB: But I do have to do things like that; the Tony Award does not come with a cash gift. I mean, I don't play auditions for a living; I just love doing it and Mark and I thought it would be fun. The unfortunate side effect is that it was distracting for actors, so I asked Mark not to do it any more; people would come in and start sweating and panting when they saw me at the piano, so I figured that it wasn't fair.