| "In soothe I know not why I am so sad: it wearies me; you say it wearies you; but how I caught it, found it, or came by it, I am to learn." These are Antonio's words at the beginning of THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. As the Merchant, Antonio, I spoke these words in a drama school production in London when I was 24 years old. That's a young age to try to find all the subtextual meanings behind the Bard's words. Now, at the tender age of my later middle years I see the profundity. |
 Stephen Sondheim Yesterday we lost a Titan of show business. A man who has a Broadway theater bearing his name, but who, by his own admission never got over his childhood's lack of maternal praise, questioning his own worthiness even while accolades were heaped upon him in his later years. But Love abounded for Stephen Sondheim and I hope that he knew that. From the kids listening to his music in a solitary basement, to the high school shows, to community theater, university productions, regional, Off Broadway and Broadway show companies. From London to Bangkok, from Russia to India, Sondheim has impacted us now and will continue to impact the fabric of musical theater for generations to come.  Theater 2020's "Sondheim on Sondheim" So, why I am so sad? Judith and I have been privileged to work with Mr. Sondheim as cast members and also to produce and direct his works. We are sad at his passing but grateful for all the opportunities. And what a generous man! Opening his brownstone for Broadway cast parties; writing notes on opening nights for Indie Theatre Productions; just sending a little encouragement that had large meaning. Theater 2020 produced SONDHEIM ON SONDHEIM back in 2020, just as we were entering the pandemic. So, we had to cut our run short, just before Mr. Sondheim was supposed to attend. That was a sad "what if," but we did have him every night in the show: if you don't know, Steve himself has a large presence in the production, as he takes us through his life with video commentary. I directed a great cast, Judith did the choreography, and we had a terrific wunderkind of a music director, Solon Snider (remember his name!). Because of the video, Steve was present from the start of rehearsals, and at every performance he was there, participating with our cast, as we celebrated his life. That is a gift we'll not forget. |
 Hal Prince So, why am I so sad? The death of Sondheim makes me think of the passing Hal Prince, just a little over two years ago. Hal, too, was a generous person. Always there for encouragement and guidance; knowing the importance of working with younger artists and passing the torch. I'll always remember our coffee talks in his office, which for a while we had annually, when just a little bit of his time would energize me for a whole year. He saw some of my shows and he always wrote something to our casts. He is missed.  Brewster Fuller in a B25 So, why am I so sad? The deaths of Sondheim and Prince bring me to another loss. In 2016, I lost my best male friend, my father. Brewster Fuller was at times irascible, sometimes cantankerous, but always generous and there to listen and, when asked, advise. I marvel at what it must have been like to navigate, as he did, a B25 Mitchell bomber over the South Pacific, with only a compass and a sextant as tools, with the safety of the crew subject to his penciled directions. He rarely talked about WWII, like most other Greatest Generation veterans, but what a personal impact it must have been for a young man. He left that war at 24, the same age I was speaking Shakespeare in London. The losses of these men bring me to losses of friends and relatives taken before their times. Classmates and kin, collaborators and buddies, leaving by accident, AIDS, tragedy and pandemic. Were I to play Antonio now, I think the subtext to "I know not why I am so sad" would be clearer. In these last decades these words have resonated more than I would wish they did, but such is what our lives become. We lose our parents, our friends and our mentors and suddenly we ourselves are the Mentors. If we are fortunate to be here, we have the privilege of passing on the torch while we look forward. For Dad, it was the next garden, the next game of croquet. For Hal, it was the next show. And for Steve, it was, well, the Next:
So, I guess I know why I am so Sad. And I am grateful for it:
Because it also brings the Joy of tomorrow and its possibilities:
So, we live, we love, we grieve, and thankfully, we move on. [lyrics from Sondheim's SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE] |
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