Floyd Collins (1999)

Music and Lyrics by Adam Guettel
Book and Additional Lyrics by Tina Landau
November 4-20, 1999
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis
http://www.newlinetheatre.com/floydpage.html

THE CAST
Floyd Collins – Troy Schnider
Homer Collins – Eric Whitman
Nellie Collins – Kimi Short
Lee Collins – Steven R. Johnson
Jane Collins – Mary “Mo” Monahan
William “Skeets” Miller – Dan Sattel
Bee Doyle – Karl Berberich
Ed Bishop – Michael Deak
Jewel Estes – Colin DeVaughan
H.T. Carmichael – Patrick Kerwin
Cliff Roney/Reporter – Chris Brenner
Dr. Hazlett/Reporter – Keith Hale
Reporter – John Rhine

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miler and Alison Helmer
Assistant Director – Kevin Corlett
Lighting Designer – Mark Schilling
Costume Designer – Elizabeth Krausnick
Set Designer and Scene Painter – Karl Berberich
Set Construction Assistant – Adam Lewis
Stage Manager – Amy Francis Schott
Sound Technician – Chris Clark
Box Office Manager – Steve Dohrmann
Graphic Designer – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Neal Richardson
Violin – Bill Bauer
Guitar/Banjo – Kathy Schottel
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“New Line Theatre . . . continues the hot streak that began last season with Camelot and Into the Woods. Scott Miller's productions always are small in scale, but the imaginative scope of these recent shows has impressive depth. . . It offers perspective instead of self-indulgence, imagination instead of ego. It's a compelling musical and one that is well-suited to the New Line Theatre's stripped-down style.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis-Post Dispatch

“Adam Guettel, the composer and lyricist, and Tina Landau have turned this dark, sad tale into a remarkable piece of musical theater that, although hardly flawless, is consistently interesting both in its music and in the way the story is told. . . New Line Theatre has fielded a strong cast whose vocal abilities are generally matches for Guettel's often demanding music. . . and what a pleasure it was to hear natural, unamplified voices.” – Harry Weber, The Riverfront Times

“Scott Miller's New Line Theatre company, in the small cave of the St. Marcus Theatre, is shouting out a beautiful exploratory cave call: they have been delving into the subterranean recesses of musical theatre for some years, and now they've opened a fine production that epitomizes their own search. . . The cast abounds with strong performances.” – Steve Callahan, KDHX-FM

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Raucous comedy. Great tenderness. Muscular, powerful music. Simple folk ballads. Family, faith, metaphysics. It's all there in Floyd Collins, one of the most spectacular first efforts in the history of musical theatre.

The critics have gone wild over this show. New York's Newsday called it “one of the three or four truly great music theatre scores of the last decade.” Entertainment Weekly said, “The melodies soar... In Adam Guettel a vital new musical theatre writer has emerged.” New York Magazine said, “This is the original and daring musical of our day.., a powerhouse.” Variety said it was “easy to admire.., sometimes ravishing.” The San Diego Union Tribune called it “a daring and original piece of musical theater.” The Los Angeles Times called it “plaintive, often inspired...Adam Guettel is a composer for the new century.”

With Floyd Collins, composer-lyricist Adam Guettel (rhymes with kettle) has clearly established himself as the most likely candidate to lead the next generation into the musical theatre terrain that Stephen Sondheim has explored for the last forty years. Floyd Collins is a musical full of a complexity and sophistication worthy of Sondheim, yet also full of the emotional force that this story demands; because, though it is a story about media exploitation, greed, glory, and prejudice, at its core, it is even more about family and faith. It is one of those musicals, like West Side Story, Company, and Ragtime, which could only have been written by Americans. There is a brashness, an openness, and a muscularity in Floyd Collins that is uniquely American.

Guettel and his bookwriter Tina Landau have tackled a most unlikely subject for a musical. Most of the story takes place after Floyd has been trapped a hundred feet underground. How do you make a musical about a character who can't move? The answer is twofold. First, they realized the most compelling story here is an internal one; the almost supernatural connection between Floyd and Nellie, the powerful brotherly bond between Floyd and Homer, Floyd's indomitably American spirit, and his blind optimism in the face of incredible obstacles. Second, Guettel separated the two worlds – above ground and underground – by giving them each their own sound. Above ground, the music is an only slightly altered bluegrass Kentucky folk sound; rollicking, simple, honest. Below the surface is Floyd's world, and it has its own music. Here is where Guettel uses the sophisticated, complex sounds that owe something to the work of Stephen Sondheim; full of soaring, gorgeous melodies; unusual, quirky rhythms; and fascinating, interconnected musical themes that weave together to create a beautiful musical tapestry.

Guettel and Landau have written a musical about a real American hero, still today considered the greatest cave explorer in American history. And they've done it with such care and such skill that it ends up being one of the greatest musicals you'll ever see. We just hope we've done this magnificent work justice.

REMEMBERING FLOYD COLLINS
Several years after college I found myself far from the theatre, doing graphic design in a retail music store, when one of my coworkers, a former university music instructor, got a call from a local theatre company desperate to replace the lead in an upcoming production of Brigadoon. Aware of my background, he gave them my name; two weeks later I was performing my first role since college. That was the spark. Three more lead roles built my confidence enough that I sought out professional theatre companies, not for the money, but for the challenge. I was tired of being a big fish in a little pond, but the old fears returned. Was I good enough? I had to give it a shot, and another local actor suggested New Line Theatre. I knew nothing about them, but I trusted him and soon learned they were about to hold auditions for Floyd Collins. In my wildest dreams I never imagined a St. Louis company would take on a show this personal and this excruciatingly difficult. I clearly remember my only request on the audition form: “I just want to sing.” They cast me as Floyd, and, along with music director Neal Richardson, pushed me harder and farther than I ever dreamed. To this day I’m still shocked they had the guts to take on a show like this, but you have to realize New Line does it time and again over and over. Scott simply does what inspires him. It’s truly remarkable. The fact that he’s willing to cast someone he’s never seen before, and has the wherewithal to pull it off, astounds me. So, do I have what it takes? Who knows, that’s for others to decide, but I’ll never stop seeking out challenges and working hard. I have New Line Theatre to thank for this outlook, and Floyd Collins and many future productions to look forward to because of it.
– Troy Schnider, “Floyd Collins”

For me, the most wonderful moment of doing this show was standing backstage late in the second act while Floyd sings his last song and realizes he's going to die in the cave. For me, that was the emotional high point. When Troy would sing the line: “Will my mama be there waiting for me?” I would get shivers and have a huge lump in my throat the whole time I was saying my closing monologue. Floyd Collins was far and away the most touching show I've ever experienced. I will always cherish the memory.
– Dan Sattel, “Skeets Miller”

During the rehearsal process for Floyd Collins, Scott did a tremendous amount of research about this true story. In fact, Scott, Alison, Troy, and Amy traveled to Kentucky and saw the actual area where the show is set. They even brought back pictures and souvenirs of their trek to Floyd country. All of this reminded the cast that our characters were real people, and we got to know them a little better. But the biggest reminder happened on opening night. A group of actual cavers attended and sat in the front row with their cave helmets on. We thought that was kind of a strange thing to do and were poking fun at them backstage. During intermission, Scott talked to these folks and found out how much of a folk hero Floyd Collins is to cavers everywhere, even seventy-five years after his death. In a sense, it was like having friends of Floyd in the audience. That was pretty cool. Oh yeah, the cavers liked the show.
– Steve Johnson, “Lee Collins”

I never want to yodel again in my life. I don't think Scott would ever be happy with music that was simple and easy. And because of this, I don't think his performers would either. I have wanted to try other theater groups, but I don't. I keep thinking, “But they won't be like New Line’s shows.” I believe in what Scott does and the education in theater that he has given me. Also [I’m thankful] for the wonderful opportunities for personal growth and growth as a performer. I can never be grateful enough for all the true friendships I have made through New Line. I am proud to say that I am a part of New Line and will always be. Thank you Scott Miller.
– Chris Brenner, “Cliff Roney, Yodeler”

It was in the fall of 1999. Floyd was upon us and I took the job as set designer. I tried different ideas. In a small theatre like St. Marcus, there isn't much room for anything extensive. So I had to wing it. I needed this unit set to be a cave, a forest, a gathering area. I knew it would get done. I just couldn't calculate how well. I was in a bit of a panic. I needed to catch a vacation. I needed to really focus. I took a trip to Springfield. I knew how the set would be built, but the detail was crucial. That first night in Springfield was to be the time of clarity. I lay on my back on my friend’s floor (a bit sauced), watching a candle flicker light on the ceiling. I felt something on my side. I look down to my chest, and in the little light that was in the room, I noticed two long antennae sweeping the air. I froze. “I hate cockroaches,” I thought. All the lights go on and my friend is grabbing a shoe to kill this bug. In a flash, I realized what was on me... a cricket! I shouted, “No! Don’t kill it!” Floyd talked to crickets! It jumped off of me and disappeared into the house. In the instant I saw that cricket, I saw the detail of the set. In my head it was complete (crazy, huh?). That was a great spiritual moment for me. I believe in many Eastern beliefs and one belief is that crickets are fortune tellers, prognosticators. I had a moment of connection with something else, somewhere else. And the energy used me to create the right set. It turned out to be one of my favorite works of art to date. (Thank you, Mark, for the perfect lighting.) Floyd and my time doing that show really helped me deal with problems I had been struggling with, [helped me] shine in the face of adversity.
– Karl Berberich, set designer, “Bee Doyle”

During rehearsals for Floyd Collins, Troy, Alison, and I drove to Kentucky to see Floyd’s cave. The lady at the Floyd Collins Museum told us where the cave was in which Floyd had been trapped. We drove down the road and found a small sign by the side that said “Sand Cave.” There were no arrows, no map, no directions. We started down the dirt path, and after a few wrong turns, we finally found it – Floyd Collins’ Sand Cave, where Floyd was trapped and died, where people had argued over rescue theories, where thousands of gawkers and onlookers had assembled seventy-four years before. We found the tiny passage through which Floyd had squeezed. It was utterly magical and emotionally overwhelming. I felt like I was about to cry. I couldn’t believe we were there. It was the feeling you get standing in a beautiful cathedral. We then drove up the road further to find Floyd’s grave, and an elderly couple who had been driving by stopped when they saw us in the graveyard. The man had been a cave guide many years before and had carried Floyd’s coffin when they had moved it to that cemetery. They told us so many great stories and then told us how to find the unmarked Crystal Cave, which Floyd had opened to the public before his death in 1925. The next day, we found the small dirt road they had described, behind a locked gate. We parked and walked several miles down this road, not knowing for sure if it was even the right road. We found a couple buildings which we thought might be a house and a ticket office Floyd had built. While Alison and Troy took pictures, I found a path and ventured down it. I came across homemade stairs and a railing leading down to an entrance into a hill. I had found Crystal Cave and I screamed myself hoarse running back up to them. The entrance was sealed behind a big iron door, but when Troy pushed on the door, it opened, and to our great surprise we were able to walk inside the first chamber of Floyd’s cave, to stand on the floor he had smoothed, to breathe the air he had once breathed. It was an experience I’ll never forget.
– Scott Miller, director

What I remember most about the show is reuniting with Scott, and working with him for the first time in years. Whenever I've worked with Scott, it's always been an educational experience for me because he is so knowledgeable about the material he covers for any show he does. This was the first musical I had done since I graduated college. Since then I have concentrated mostly on music-writing, singing, and acting from time to time in various film and TV projects. So this was a welcome change of pace for me, as well as a sort of homecoming, since the musical stage is my first love. I remember everyone involved in Floyd Collins being a bit overwhelmed at first by the complexity of the material. Not just the score, but the story behind it too. This show is also a fine example of the type of material that Scott chooses for New Line, and why I believe the company has survived, and will thrive in the many years to come. New Line's productions do more than entertain people like other theatre companies or shows, where you leave the theatre afterwards, and within fifteen minutes forget what you just saw. New Line challenges the audience, and gives the audience something to think about after they leave the theatre. I'm not familiar with many other theatre companies, besides perhaps the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago, that sets the bar so high in the choosing and executing of material, whether it's a popular classic, a lesser known piece, or a world premiere of an original work; where the result is a growing and learning experience for the artists onstage and behind the scenes as well as quality entertainment for the audience. Here's to ten--and hopefully many more--years for New Line! I hope that I'm lucky enough to be a part of your process again and again in the future.
– Eric Whitman, “Homer”

The Ballad of Floyd Collins – A Parody
(To the tune of the theme song for The Beverly Hillbillies,
with parody lyrics by Scott Miller.)

Come and listen to a show about a man named Floyd,
So damn weird that you’ll prob’ly get annoyed,
All about Kentucky and a fella in a cave --
Not so very happy but it surely is brave.
(spoken)
Brave theatre. Dissonant music. Hard to understand.

At the openin’ of the show, this Floyd goes down,
Crawling on the stage, kinda squirmin’ all around,
First ten minutes, he gets trapped real tight,
And he doesn’t move a muscle for the rest of the night.
(spoken)
Long night. Just sits there. No choreography.

And that's about the size of it, the whole friggin' show,
All in all, about as fun as choppin' off your toe.
Lots of heavy drama and some really long songs,
A-weepin' and a-wailin' where the comedy belongs.
(spoken)
Just a joke or two. That's all we ask.

Now, the first thing you know, they’ll be doing it agin,
Another damn musical about a mortal sin,
More crazy melodies a-dancin’ in your head,
And sure, by the end, well, the hero will be dead.
(spoken)
Stone dead. Depressing as hell…

A New Line Songbook (1999)

a world premiere revue
Conceived by Scott Miller
featuring songs from Attempting the Absurd, Assassins, Pippin, In the Blood, Company, Sweeney Todd, Passion, Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris, March of the Falsettos, Songs for a New World, Into the Woods, Floyd Collins, and other shows
October 9, 1999

THE CAST
Karl Berberich, Kevin Collier, Cindy Duggan, Keith Hale, Alison Helmer, Rebecca Hunter, Lisa Karpowicz, Keith Price, Angie Reinert, John Rhine, Dan Sattel, Deborah Sharn, and Kimi Short. Hosted by Steven R. Johnson

THE ARTISTIC STAF
Director - Scott Miller
Lighting Designer - Amy Schott

Into the Woods (1999)

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by James Lapine
June 10 - 26, 1999
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Narrator/Mysterious Man – Steven R. Johnson
Cinderella – Sarah Laak
Jack – Adam Eisen
Jack’s Mother – Cindy Duggan
Baker – Robb Kennedy
Baker’s Wife – Deborah Sharn
Cinderella’s Stepmother – Rebecca Hunter
Cinderella’s Stepsister, Florinda – Christina Rios
Cinderella’s Stepsister, Lucinda – Johanna Schloss
Steward – Justin Heinrich
Little Red Ridinghood – Kate Novak
Witch – Laura Beard Aeling
Cinderella’s Mother/Granny/Giant’s Wife – Mary “Mo” Monahan
Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince – Karl E. Berberich
Rapunzel – Kimi Short
Rapunzel’s Prince – Sean Pritchett

THE ARTISTIC STAFFDirectors – Scott Miller & Alison Helmer
Music Director – Scott Miller
Set Designer & Scene Painter – Karl Berberich
Costume Designers – Theresa Doggett & Tim Kent
Lighting Designer – Jamie Brink
Lighting Technician – Sara Epstein
Stage Manager – Amy Francis Schott
Box Office Manager – Steve Dohrmann
Graphic Design – Laura Beard Aeling & Zachary Lips

THE BAND
Piano – Brad Hofeditz
Trumpet – Paul Hecht
Flute – Jessie Poepping
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“With Into the Woods, [Scott Miller] continues his experiments in proportion. His intimate production of Stephen Sondheim’s sophisticated fairy tale reduces the Broadway hit to a nursery scale, befitting both its subject matter and its psychoanalytic viewpoint. The production . . . makes the most of the St. Marcus Theatre, turning its small size into an asset. . . Into the Woods brings together an exceptionally consistent cast.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“You can savor those words and music in what may be New Line’s finest production yet. . . The cast plays with smart assurance, without a weak link in the chain. . . The whole production turns these old tales into adult versions rich in wit, music, and emotion – the most satisfying kind of entertainment.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times
DIRECTOR'S NOTESAt each stage of his life, a child may take different lessons from a single fairy tale. Each time he hears in it some new insight or lesson, depending on his needs at that moment in life. Perhaps at one moment, the child will learn that we must follow our parents’ instructions when he reads or hears Little Red Ridinghood. At a later moment, he may take from it the idea that life is full of dangers and adventures, but that no matter how scary it may get, we generally come out all right on the other end of even the darkest moments.

But fairy tales are for children. Well, maybe. Wouldn’t it be foolish to assume that just because we’re adults, we have nothing left to learn? In fact, Into the Woods is a fairy tale for adults. Real fairy tales divide the world into Good and Bad, with no gray area in between. Real fairy tales leave no room for moral ambiguity. Into the Woods takes us, as adults, into the world of fairy tales, and invites us to try to navigate this world. But we know too much and as that world changes us, we change it.

We know that in the real world a wedding is not the end of the story, that it is not a guarantee of happiness. Going into the fairy tale woods with the knowledge we have will shape that world into something very different. We know that the people who claim to be doing good, aren’t always. A child might accept the idea that killing a giant is unambiguously good. But we live in a world with war, abortion, mercy killing, and capital punishment. Killing suddenly isn’t all that clear-cut. Some people would say killing is never good. Others will point out that killing is sanctioned in the Bible. Which are we to believe? There are no easy answers.

Into the Woods is a very special show. In Act I, we are presented with a (relatively) conventional fairy tale that ends with a Happily Ever After. But in Act II, that world of black and white is dissected, deconstructed, examined more closely. We see that getting our Happily Ever After, getting what we want sometimes necessitates acts we may not be proud of, acts that have unforeseen consequences down the road. When we go into these woods, we bring our adult world with us, where people sometimes lie and steal.

We’ve already learned all those lessons about honesty, bravery, and obedience (though we may not always practice them). Into the Woods teaches us lessons--things some of us adults have not yet learned--about consequences, about responsibility to the community. (Maybe Clinton needs to see this show.) “No One is Alone” isn’t just a song that promises support in our time of need; it’s also a song that cautions us to be aware of how our actions affect others, reminding us that we do not live in a vacuum. One line says, “Careful – no one is alone.” It’s this “careful” that raises this show out of the ordinary.

Some people have criticized Into the Woods for being too preachy, for spelling out its lessons too completely. Real fairy tales never explicitly state their morals, leaving that work for the child to do. But this is a fairy tale for adults, and, as we all know, adults are far less perceptive than children.

REMEMBERING INTO THE WOODS

I loved doing this show. Absolute fun. I was nervous about singing, as the only singing I had really done was karaoke, but the company and environment were so incredible that I felt at home. I remember Justin and I had the arduous task of transforming Karl from the Wolf into Cinderella’s Prince. This entailed starting backstage, stripping him of the Wolf vest, racing upstairs, wiping away sweat and make-up, running through St Marcus’ Church, helping him into Prince clothes, and then downstairs for his cue to enter behind the audience. Thanks, Scott. Great idea. Luckily we made it every night. During the run of the show, I developed a wonderful bruise on my left shin and scars on both wrists from falling. It wasn’t so much falling as slamming myself into a wooden riser. The audience reaction was more than worth it, especially one night, when an older couple gasped “Oh dear! I hope he’s all right!”
– Sean Pritchett, “Rapunzel’s Prince”

The show was Into the Woods. I was Cinderella’s Dead Mother, the Giant, and Granny. The cast did a lot of marching through the audience. Lots of bobbing and weaving – single file, so as not to run into each other. I was Granny at the time of The Incident. All I remember is two Princes coming at me at the same time. I tried to “weave” out of the way, but in my struggle to remember those damn Sondheim lyrics, I had forgotten about the ramps which extended out from the stage. Yes, I avoided the Princes, but not the ramps. My feet were caught under the ramp and down I went. I believe St. Louis experienced a 5.3 on the Richter scale that evening. I managed to get myself up and march through the audience, singing and smiling. Instantly, my feet were growing. I decided not to take off my character shoes, believing I would never get them back on. My feet were the feet of the Giant. They became a lovely color of purple. Not to be one to complain or miss a party, I went out after the show with the cast, with the help of Vicadin and a couple of Bud Lights. Later, the x-rays showed I had fractured my feet in 3 places. The irony is that I was given many compliments later in the run regarding the ‘cute’ way Granny was walking because of my injury. And so as the old adage goes – the show must go on.
– Mo Monahan, “Granny, Giant’s Wife, Cinderella’s Mother”

I'm one of those people who starts laughing when things get tense. Or when someone falls. So I got a good laugh the night Mo Monahan fell in a heap during the show in her Granny clothes. Unfortunately, I didn't actually get to see the fall (so I don't have the rights to re-enact it), but I got to witness the aftermath. I found Mo sitting in the bathroom, moaning and actually crying some. Now, of course that's not funny, but I couldn't control my laughter when she explained what was wrong. Here's the direct quote: “I fell... I fell out there... I fell flat on my face... in front of all those people, I tripped and fell... flat on my stupid face!” And while I certainly cared that Mo had hurt herself, I nearly gnawed the inside of my cheek raw trying to keep from cackling loudly, as the show was still in progress. Needless to say, Mo spent the remainder of the run wearing a walking cast on her ankle.
– Beck Hunter, “Cinderella’s Stepmother”

New Line's production of Into The Woods had a beautiful set, an extremely talented cast, superb and imaginative direction, a very good band, a masterful score and script, and an anatomically complete Wolf. Karl, who played the Wolf, would dance and move around the audience area (Scott blocked the show using the entire theatre as a stage) during rehearsals in a very provocative way. He would slither and slink and use pelvic thrusts that we knew would be in audience members’ faces. The Wolf's costume was to have a suggestive bulge in the crotch area and everyone thought the pelvic thrusts would be fun for the audience. When the Wolf's costume was delivered, the bulge was more than a suggestion. It was unmistakable proof of the Wolf's gender. Needless to say, the pelvic thrusts took on a whole new dynamic. The script didn't give us any clues about the Wolf's first name, but if I were to venture a guess, I think it would be Dick.
– Steve Johnson, “Narrator/Mysterious Man”

I loved playing Rapunzel and having long blonde hair. Being of Asian descent, I had never pictured myself as a blonde. I even bleached my eyebrows to be more blonde! What I really enjoyed more than anything about Into the Woods was the environment. The entire theatre was transformed into the woods, and the stage incorporated hills and life-sized trees that came alive! It was a spectacular set, and you couldn't help feeling like you were somewhere else, somewhere where giants lurk, witches live, and the big bad wolf could jump out from anywhere. I have to mention a funny-in-an-odd-sort-of-way thing. One time, when I was trying to ask the costume designer a question, her response (with English accent) as she went by was, “You're not to speak to me while I'm walking!” I could hardly believe my ears! Now I love to tell that story, and you have to laugh.
– Kimi Short, “Rapunzel”

All of us girls were crammed into the rear dressing room of the St. Marcus, a room so cluttered and full of bugs, dead and alive, that I refused to take off my shoes unless I was standing on the towel I brought. Beck told me one night that if she were to die young in some freak accident, she wanted me to create a memorial fund for her which would rehab and redecorate the St. Marcus dressing rooms. As New Line is no longer performing at the St. Marcus Theatre, I'm now glad on two counts that Beck is still alive.
– Johanna Schloss, “Lucinda”

Camelot (1999)

Book and Lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner
Music by Frederick Loewe
Based on The Once and Future King,
By T. H. White
March 11-27, 1999
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CASTArthur Pendragon – Ted Cancila
Guenevere – Deborah Sharn
Lancelot du Lac – Karl E. Berberich
Merlyn/Pellinore – Steve Johnson
Sir Dinadan – Kevin Collier
Sir Lionel – Keith Thompson
Sir Sagramore – Jesse Lawder
Sir Castor – Jerry Smith
Sir Gawaine/Mordred – Walter Marts
Nimué/Lady Catherine – Kimi Short
Morgan Le Fay/Lady Elaine – Rebecca Hunter
Lady Anne/Tom of Warwick – Sarah Laak
Lady Sybil – Johanna Schloss

THE ARTISTIC STAFFDirectors – Scott Miller, Alison Helmer
Music Director – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – Jamie Brink
Costume Designer – Elizabeth Krausnick
Technical Director – Karl Berberich
Lighting Technician – Sara Epstein
Stage Manager – Amy Francis Schott
Weapons Designer – Bryan Fick
Box Office Manager – Steve Dohrmann
Graphic Design – Laura Aeling

THE BAND
Piano – Steven C. Showalter
Guitar/Mandolin – D. Mike Bauer
Trumpet – Paul Hecht
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“This show does not look, sound, or feel like any other Camelot [but] . . . this stripped down version has a lot going for it.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“It’s a longish evening, but so full of fine voices and serious, convincing performances, that its command of our attention is unfailing.” – Steve Callahan, KDHX-FM

“The musical’s dark ending doesn’t jar against too light and romantic a tone in the earlier scenes. Elemental passions and their potential for trouble lurk in the first moments, when even wise Merlin succumbs to the seductions of the flesh.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR'S NOTESWhy Camelot? For a company known for doing Assassins, Sweeney Todd, and Out on Broadway, it seems a strange choice.

Well, I've been answering that question for a year now. And the answer keeps changing. It seems now there are two answers.

First, I'm crazy. And so is everyone who works with me.

Second, Camelot is a near masterpiece. It deals with some extremely heavy issues, all still relevant, with surprising parallels to our current scandal-ridden government [with Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinksy]. And its themes of sex, violence, betrayal, and death are the same themes we've explored in our other work.

What we discovered was that this story and these characters have a complexity and a depth that has been lost or ignored over the years. Going back to the source, The Once and Future King, we found richer, deeper characters than we'd ever seen in this show before, characters the original production no doubt explored fully but that have been forgotten and simplified over time.

Camelot is no fairy tale. It's a fiery, tragic, thought-provoking fable that somehow manages to make us laugh along the way.

But though it's a masterpiece, it's one with flaws and that makes it a tremendous challenge. How do you make an audience care about Arthur who continually refuses to face the obvious dangers that lurk behind every corner of his court? Or Guenevere, who has the gentlest, most caring husband in the world, and leaves him for another man? And what about Lancelot, who sleeps with his best friend's wife?

The answer is to explore why Arthur ignores the signs, what is missing in Arthur and Guenevere's marriage, what Guenevere needs that Arthur can't give her and that Lance can, and how Lance can balance his obsessive love for Arthur and his passionate love for Guenevere. This is a show about passions – Arthur's passion for the philosophy of law and for changing the world, Guenevere's passion for life and romance, Lancelot's passion for Arthur's dream and for Guenevere's love.

Ours is a muscular, aggressive, confrontational Camelot, one that lives not in the world of musical comedy, but instead in the dark world of Arthur, King of the Britons, and his knights of the Round Table. This is one of the greatest legends of the western world. We hope that we have brought to it the power and depth of understanding that it deserves.

As with all our shows, what we're attempting requires more from you, the audience, than most musicals ask, but we hope that the rewards for your efforts will be considerable. Enjoy.

REMEMBERING CAMELOT

For years, I had wanted to do Camelot small. Intimate, close up, psychological, personal. I wanted to get rid of the stupid dances, the idiotic costume parades, all the crap that had nothing to do with the story. The original production had cost over a million dollars and that was in 1960! But the story is really about just three people – people with Shakespearean-sized passions, sure, but at their core, real people with real feelings, real insecurities, and best of all, real contradictions. These are complicated, flawed, fascinating characters. I had played Arthur in high school and knew that there was more in that material than most people saw – or would admit they saw. I was convinced that for Camelot to really work, it had to be small and private. The audience had to feel like eavesdroppers, not spectators at a parade. I asked the three leads to make every scene personal and unbearably vulnerable, to rarely open themselves up physically to the audience (the usual practice in musicals), and above all, to let the show be unashamedly sexual and passionate. I’d like to think all these unusual – some said “radical” – ideas paid off, that our Camelot was not only different, but better. But my greatest joy was hearing audience members leaving the theatre each night, saying that they hadn’t remembered Camelot being that funny. Or sexy. Or sad. The biggest lesson I’ve learned with New Line is that the original production of a show isn’t always the best way to do it. In some cases, the authors were bound by convention, by finances, by audience expectations, by fear – and they didn’t always do their work justice. And sometimes it takes the distance of a few decades to see that.
– Scott Miller, director

I walked into the basement of the St. Marcus Theatre, not having a clue what to expect. Hey, I'm still pretty new to the theatre, and I had no concept of what Professional Non-Equity Theatre was. But I was prepared. I had my sheet music for “If Ever I Would Leave You” under my arm when a large – no, gigantic – man greeted me at the door. Intimidating first impression? Definitely. I filled out my audition sheet, and almost wet myself when I saw that there would be pay involved. Who knew a person could get paid for doing something this fun? Well, I got up there and sang my little baritone heart out, stone cold stiff with fright. The blond guy at the piano, who I gathered was the director, then tested my range and seemed pleasantly surprised at the depth of it, commenting that my range was the one he wished he had. I didn't know quite what to make of this, but stayed around to read anyway (but not dance… hmmm... in Camelot?). They asked me to read for Lancelot. Shocking, to say the least. After all, I was only seventeen. So, I put on my pseudo-French accent after asking if such a thing would be necessary, and went to work. I think the thing that threw me the most was that there was no Arthur to grovel to. Just me, on a bare stage, blind as a bat, on my knees towards the invisible king. I think the scariest part of that audition, though, was the thought that I might actually be cast as Lancelot. Fortunately, as the story goes, a fabulous baritone named Karl came along and snatched the part with one vocal chord tied around his back. I was so relieved to be a knight, I even offered to sing tenor (but that's a whole other chapter).
– Jesse Lawder, “Sir Sagramore”

For me, one of the funniest parts of the show was something the audiences were never aware of. It's at the end of the joust. Kevin Collier's character is killed, carried on stage and then brought back to life by Lancelot. It's a very emotional scene in the show. The funny part was watching Jerry, Walter, Jesse and Keith carry Kevin from the back of the theatre to the stage. Kevin is at least six feet twelve inches tall and weighs . . . a lot. Each night when they struggled to carry him on the stretcher to the stage, my mind would always go back to the night they dropped him on his head during rehearsal. Kevin wasn't too happy about being dropped. In fact, the last time I heard that much cursing from one human being was when my ex-wife was giving birth. Thank goodness Kevin wasn't hurt and there was no permanent damage to the stage.
– Steve Johnson, “King Pellinore”

My favorite memory of Camelot was a moment we had backstage. For the first weekend of the run, all the Lords and Ladies spent their downtime chatting in the green room together. For no known reason, by the second weekend, the women had begun to retreat to our dressing room and left the men in the green room alone. We prided ourselves on having plenty of time to make transitions upstairs through the sanctuary of the St. Marcus to cross over and enter through the back of the theatre. But one night, we were involved in our conversation and hearing a cue, suddenly realized we were in grave danger of missing our entrance at the back of the theatre. Well, the “Queens of the Manor” (and I do mean queens) were quite bitter about their ladies doing their own thing, so they fell into a laughing heap as the four of us burst open the dressing room door looking like a pack of flying nuns in our long Medieval ware and raced up the back stairs, tripping and falling on each other's clothes.
– Beck Hunter, “Morgan Le Fay, Lady Elaine”

I didn't think there was a spot for me in Camelot, but Scott told me about Nimué. He described her as an enchantress that sings this one beautiful song, which was enough reason for me to audition! Steve Johnson played Merlin and it was my job as Nimué to seduce him away. Steve was great to work with on and off stage. Our scene together was short but beautiful, and I enjoyed it very much. Much to my surprise, Joe Pollack complimented me in his review in Backstage, and Judith Newmark gave me a year-end Judy Award as one of the Best Supporting Actresses of the year. I appreciate the compliments very much, but I can't help chuckling about it because I was only onstage for about two minutes! Deborah, Ted, and Karl were terrific and this was their show, but we enjoyed watching and playing our parts in the story. It was always fun watching the invisible horses race towards each other in the jousts and “seeing” Lancelot's victories, especially the time they dropped Sir Dinadan (Kevin) while carrying him back to Arthur. Well, at least it was fun for us!
– Kimi Short, “Nimué”

The very first show I costumed for the New Line Theatre was Camelot. At that time their productions were in the basement of the St. Marcus on Russell Avenue. I remember my first reaction when I descended the steps and walked through the black hanging curtains to the theatre space: this is as low as I can get. The atmosphere was dark and close due to the low ceiling, soft lighting, and the pillars scattered throughout the seating area. However, throughout that first pre-production time and during the performances, I found out that the theatre company isn’t about the space [in which it performs], but the people who make up the company. We all joked about the size of the roaches in the green room (while I kept my feet off the floor), and the dressing rooms were cozy, not cramped. I actually felt comforted when I’d walk backstage by the Christmas lights and the hot, glowing boiler. But I found that the best part of it all was the genuine thanks and gratitude I received from the actors when I costumed them. They treated me and my costumes very well. Even though the company has had to change venues with the closing of the St. Marcus, the same camaraderie has continued. It’s such a warm feeling to get applause from the people I costume, for they know that I do it so they can be better in their roles, and that I do the best that I can do. What more could I ask for?
– Betsy Krausnick, costumer

New Line's production of Camelot was superb, provocative, delightful and yet so remarkably different from any other version I've ever seen of this show. As I sat in the audience that evening, I found it difficult to believe that my adult son, Scott Miller, was directing this highly sophisticated show. It seemed such a short time ago that Scott, my lanky young teenager, starred as the ill-fated King in his high school production of Camelot. My pride in his directing skills almost equaled those I experienced as I watched him perform so many years ago. Anyone who is a mother will understand my feelings ... the rest of you will just have to grin and bear it.
– Joan Zobel, mother of the director

Then there was the time when everyone got late night phone calls.
I had rehearsal one night, around January or February, and my ex-girlfriend was in town from school. She and I were good friends still, and we decided to go out for coffee or something after I got out of rehearsal. So, as I got out, she picked me up and off we went on our way to a fun night. It was, of course, a school night, and I did stay out quite late. I got home around two to find my father and his fiancée not in sight. Well, the way the story goes, they woke up to my empty bed, and happened to find my Camelot cast list. They then proceeded to make calls to at least three people (including the directors, Scott and Alison) wondering if we were still in rehearsal and if they had any idea where I might be. Seeing as how rehearsal got out at ten and it was now two, no one really had much to say on that subject. Needless to say, I had a lot of explaining to do next rehearsal.
– Jesse Lawder, “Sir Sagramore”

In Act II of Camelot, Sarah, Beck, Kimi, and I were offstage a lot (which is generally the case for any woman in Camelot who isn't Guenevere). On one particular night, we apparently had been listening to the same radio station on the way to the theatre, for we all had The Bangles' version of “Hazy Shade of Winter” in our heads. Very softly, almost in a whisper, we sang it and split into the harmonies as though we had rehearsed it for months. We decided we'd make a great girl band. And we ate a lot of grapefruit. In case you were wondering what we did for that hour backstage before the finale....
– Johanna Schloss, “Lady Sybil”

Songs for a New World (1998)

Music and Lyrics by Jason Robert Brown
Conceived by Daisy Prince
October 30 - November 14, 1998
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Christopher Brenner
John Rhine
Deborah Sharn
Kimi Short

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller, Alison Helmer
Music Director – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – Jamie Brink
Scenic Painter – Heather Bennett
Lighting Technician – Amy Francis Schott
Box Office Manager – Steve Dohrmann
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Guitar – D. Mike Bauer
Bass – Terry Kippenberger
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“Songs for a New World is that very rare beast: an abstract musical. . . Here is a musical that doesn’t try to bombard or cajole you – it simply speaks honestly through fine music and proves that less can most certainly be more. . . Individually, the performers are fine, together they are fabulous, and the harmonies and group singing are uncommonly rich and vibrant. . . The mystical union of song and performance was simply profound at the St. Marcus. . . a true theatrical gem.” – Mike Isaacson, The Riverfront Times

“I'm at a loss as to just what to call this production, except fascinating, engrossing, and totally absorbing. It’s the kind of performance that just cries out to be seen more than once, just to get all the nuances of the lyrics of the songs. Maybe one could call this a musical call to personal reflection, almost a contemporary worship service without dogmatics, but even that might be too limiting a description for such a freewheeling exploration into the human soul.. . The voices of the cast members are all outstanding, and the emotion they put into each piece lifts the presentation from just a bunch of songs into something between poetry and worship. Most of the time the message is a powerful message of hope and faith in a God who knows the future, but sometimes it becomes a picture of the despair that comes when one loses that hope and faith. It is, as you can tell, a complex and fascinating evening you'll be thinking about for a long time to come. Come see the presentation with a friend whose opinion you value, then plan to spend many invigorating hours talking about what you heard on stage.” -- Russ Thomas, KDHX-FM

“Just as personally inspiring for me was watching five local actors pour their hearts and talents into Songs for a New World, another New Line production, featuring the fine songs of Jason Robert Brown. . . making for a truly cherished memory.” – Mike Isaacson, “1998: The Year in Theatre,” The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR'S NOTES
I didn't love the original cast album of Songs for a New World when I first bought it a couple years ago. I didn't get it. But the more I listened, the more I realized there was so much there worth getting.

Like Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris (which New Line produced in 1997), this is a show that is kind-of a revue, kind-of a song cycle, kind-of a concept musical. It almost dares you to figure it all out. But that's what was so exciting about Jacques Brel, the challenge to direct the show intelligently and clearly enough, and to perform the songs well enough that the audience would be able to understand everything. And it helps that what may be confusing on the CD can be much clearer when the audience can see the performers, see their faces, their body language, costumes, etc.

And yet, even with the help of visual clues, these are not songs that lay out at the beginning everything you need to know. You have to listen. You have to accept that these characters may be distorting the truth, intentionally or not. But when you do listen closely, the rewards are great in this show. When you realize that the woman in “I'm Not Afraid of Anything” has just walked out on her husband, her claims of courage and adventure take on a much darker tint. When you realize that the young woman in “Christmas Lullaby” has just found out she's pregnant (and no doubt completely alone), her sweet lullaby becomes more a bittersweet anthem of determination and a newfound realization of self-worth. When you realize the soldier in “Flying Home” has died in battle, this powerful hymn becomes both sad and joyful.

And what ties all these independent songs into a unified evening of theatre is their one common theme. In every song, someone faces that moment in life when everything is going perfectly and suddenly disaster strikes, in the form of the loss of a job, an unexpected pregnancy, the death of a loved one, the end of a marriage, imprisonment, even suicide. As the opening says:

It's about one moment,
That moment you think you know where you stand.
. . .
But then the earthquake hits,
Then the bank closes in,
Then you realize you didn't know anything.
Nobody told you the best way to steer
When the wind starts to blow.

But it’s even more about surviving those moments. In each song, a character truly finds himself in a “new world,” a world in which the old rules no longer apply, in which everything he thought he knew about life has to be figured out all over again. We've all been there. But we survive.

The finale says, “Hear my song. It was made for the times when you don't know where to go.” And that's what this show is about, to remind us that we all go through these times, and almost always, we come out on the other end still in one piece. We are survivors. And we are never really alone.

REMEMBERING SONGS FOR A NEW WORLD

Performing in Songs For A New World was probably the most terrifying and exciting theatrical experience I've had. At one point in rehearsals my mantra was, “Fear is a motivating factor.” I knew also that I wasn't the only one terrified by the challenges presented in this amazing musical revue by Jason Robert Brown. Scott had his work cut out for him in finding an African-American tenor who could sing to the stars. He did find that in the amazing John Rhine, who floored all of us with his bluesy, sweet gospel sound. For my part in the show I needed to create a German accent, a New York Jewish accent – a distinct character for each song, not to mention having to sing alto for the first time. I'd been spoiled always singing lead. I was up for the challenge. My favorite song to perform was “Surabaya Santa,” a takeoff of the song “Surabaya Johnny.” Perched atop a cabaret chair, in a housecoat and slippers, I was this crazed, alcoholic, sex-starved German-born wife of Santa Claus who suffered badly from North Pole cabin fever and threatened Santa with running off with his elves. My inspiration for the song came from a local stage mother who drinks a wee bit and whose lipstick often runs beyond the lines of her lips. Each night I reveled in performing this song, but I knew that the next time we did the show I would have to wrestle Chris Brenner (my wonderful co-performer) for the song, as he was a perfect candidate for it.
– Deborah Sharn, cast member

One of the hardest mother-f---ing shows I have ever done in my life, but I loved every minute. Normally when you leave the stage after a song, you can rest and regroup and relax a little bit. Not in this show. The music was so difficult that we could not let up for one minute. But I think all the effort was worth it. The saddest part of the show was the lack of audience. I don't think that mattered to the cast – we loved the show, we loved doing the music, and we enjoyed working with each other. I think it was wonderful that the cast got to sing some of that great music at the concert at the Sheldon. An audience finally heard our song.
– Chris Brenner, cast member

(Two weeks into rehearsals for Songs for a New World.)
ALISON: Hey, Scott. What on earth are we gonna do with the song “On the Deck of a Spanish Sailing Ship”?
SCOTT: I don't know... we'll worry about that later.
(Four weeks later)
ALISON: Hey, Scott. What on earth are we gonna do with “On the Deck of a Spanish Sailing Ship”?
SCOTT: I don't know... we'll worry about that later.
(A week and a half before opening night)
ALISON: Hey, Scott. What on earth are we gonna do with “On the Deck of a Spanish Sailing Ship”?
SCOTT: I don't know… we'll worry about that later.
(Final dress rehearsal. “Deck” has just ended, finally staged, and ALISON, who has tears of happiness, joy, and relief in her eyes, turns to SCOTT, who also has tears in his eyes.)
SCOTT: Damn! We're good.
-- Alison Helmer, co-director

I was really sick during Songs for a New World. I had been getting migraines for years, but by November of 1998, I had had one continuous migraine for five months. I didn’t have health insurance, so I hadn’t been to a doctor. The show was one of the hardest I had ever worked on; I had foolishly decided to play the monstrous score for the performances myself, and I was feeling awful. Three nights before opening night, I missed a rehearsal for the second time in my life. I just couldn’t get out of bed. Somehow, I managed to pull myself together and I played every performance, sometimes wondering if I was going to pass out during the next song. Most nights, I went home and straight to bed after the show. The week after we closed, I finally gave in, after not being able to eat for two days. I called my co-director and friend, Alison, at 5:00 a.m. on the Sunday after Thanksgiving and asked her to take me to the emergency room, where they discovered I had blood pressure of 230 over 140. They thought I was going to have a stroke any minute, or that I had just had one. They admitted me and three days later I was fine. I realize now how true that old line is: The show must go on. My body didn’t give out on me until after the show had closed. It knew.
– Scott Miller, director

My first experience with New Line Theatre was seeing Assassins. Because of the quality of performances, I knew I had to work for this theatre company, which led to me to audition for Songs for a New World. I sang an excerpt of “Christmas Lullaby” during the audition, and it was beautiful. I wanted to sing the entire piece and learn its meaning. Deborah Sharn was there to audition as well, and all I could think about was how fantastic it would be to do a show with someone of such high caliber. A week later when Scott Miller called (I had already given up hope) to ask me to do the show, I was ecstatic. I am going to work with Deborah Sharn (who I referred to as the Great Deborah Sharn), this amazing theatre company who put on Assassins, and I get to sing the beautiful song! Does it get any better? It does. The weeks ahead would unfold incredible melodies and harmonies, beautiful songs and stories about people, a level of performance, strength, and inner being I never knew I had, and best of all, a very special friendship to last a lifetime, a unique relationship all our own. Deborah, Chris, John, Scott, Alison, Amy are all in my soul and spirit forever, and we know without words how we are a part of each other every time we meet. From the opening sequence to “Hear My Song” at the end, we took an amazing journey together, each moment as incredible as the next. I wonder what new meanings these stories will take on for me several years from now. Maybe we'll have the privilege to take the journey once again.
– Kimi Short, cast member

Assassins (1998)

Music and Lyrics by
Stephen Sondheim
Book by John Weidman
based on an idea by
Charles Gilbert Jr.
June 12-27, 1998
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

This was New Line's second production of the show out of three, with one earlier production in 1994, and another in 2008.

THE CAST
The Balladeer – Dan Sattel
John Wilkes Booth – David Heimann
Charles Guiteau – Tim Schall
Leon Czolgosz – Kevin Collier
Giuseppe Zangara – Gary Cox
Lee Harvey Oswald – Greg Hunsaker
Samuel Byck – Patrick Kerwin
Sara Jane Moore – Cindy Duggan
Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme – Kirstin Kennedy
John Hinckley – Colin DeVaughan
Shooting Gallery Proprietor – Greg Hunsaker
David Herold – Colin DeVaughan
Florida Bystanders – Patrick Kerwin, Rebecca Hunter
Colin DeVaughan, Dan Sattel, Karin Hansen
Emma Goldman – Karin Hansen
Sara Jane Moore's son, Billy – Rebecca Hunter
President Gerald R. Ford – Greg Hunsaker

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller, Alison Helmer
Lighting Designer – L.D. Lawson
Lighting Technician – Sara Underwood
Props Coordinator – Greg Hunsaker
Costume Coordinator – Quenten Schumacher
Stage Manager – Amy Francis Schott
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Brad C. Hofeditz
Guitar/Banjo/Harmonica – D. Mike Bauer
Trumpet – Paul Hecht
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“For the most part, 1998 was full of supreme performances in solid productions. Looking back, only New Line Theatre’s production of the Stephen Sondheim musical Assassins was, as a whole, a wild and gratifying surprise. Here, a talented group of locals inhabited Sondheim’s creepy vision of what lives under America’s political rocks. It was intense, entertaining, and terrifically ‘out there.’” – Mike Isaacson, “1998: The Year in Theater,” The Riverfront Times

“Intriguing and surprisingly funny. . . The production – a bare-bones, in-the-round presentation – emphasizes the show’s gallows humor and clever lyrics.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“There is a rare, exhilarating thrill to be had for the next two weeks in St. Louis. New Line Theatre’s frequently thrilling Assassins sets a new standard for the St. Marcus Theatre, and it easily ranks as one of the finest works ever produced there. The evening is funny, disciplined, scary, intimate and strangely credible. . . The astounding intensity of the cast, and the admirable fact that they never once step ‘outside’ the material or comment on it, but fully dwell in this strange, murky netherworld, must be credited to the co-direction of Scott Miller and Alison Helmer.” – Mike Isaacson, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Many Americans think the men who declare war are strong.

Decisive.

We applauded George Bush for sending troops to the Persian Gulf. And we hailed the men who actually carried out the killing as heroes and patriots. Many Americans also not only accept but actually defend the act of killing criminals.

But we call John Wilkes Booth a traitor and a madman.

Some murder is okay and some murder is not. The murder of Oswald was okay; the murder of JFK was not.

We now know that Abraham Lincoln desecrated the very foundation of our American government in many ways. It is historical fact that he took powers that were not his to take. He ignored – some would say overthrew – the careful construction of the three branches of government designed to hold each other in check, the structure our Founding Fathers so carefully created to avoid tyranny and corruption. He declared war without the approval of Congress. He threw innocent people into jail in both the North and the South without charges and without trials. Many people hated him, in both the North and the South. They believed he was destroying our country.

And yet we think Booth was crazy for thinking he’d be called a hero for killing Lincoln.
Richard Nixon was not unlike Lincoln in some ways. Nixon also trampled on the Constitution. He also took on powers that were not his. He broke the law. He betrayed America. Some would argue that America has never been the same since.

And we think Sam Byck was crazy because he wanted to kill him.

If Lincoln or Nixon had committed these atrocities, these crimes against their nation in any other country on earth, we would call them dictators, despots, tyrants. Many Americans would call for their destruction, their overthrow, maybe even their assassination.

But because Lincoln was murdered, he is remembered as a hero, and more ironically, as a great president. And we make movies about Nixon.

We’re not making any statements here about slavery, the Civil War, or Watergate. We’re just suggesting that the issues you’ll encounter tonight are not as black and white as you might think. The world is a more complicated place than our stories, textbooks, newspapers, movies, and CNN Headline News would have us believe. (Check out a book called American Assassins: The Darker Side of Politics by James W. Clarke for more on that topic.)

These assassins are not insane. (Okay, except for Guiteau.) The accusations leveled by Booth, Byck, Czolgosz and others are true. We must listen to them, if for no other reason than the simple fact that if we do not learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it.

REMEMBERING ASSASSINS

I played Sam Byck and one of the scenes calls for Byck to be driving a car and eating a hamburger. Because of his anger, he throws the burger out the car window. When we did the performance, it was done in the round, so when I threw out the burger, I threw it out into the audience. I had to make sure that I cleared the heads of the audience. Well, let’s just say, this was not always easy. The first night I did it in rehearsal, I hit one of the cast members in the head! As time went on, I got more proficient and things went off without a hitch until the second week of performances. Because we had sold out shows, Scott decided to add some extra seats at the last minute and added them along the wall at which I usually threw the burger. I didn't know until the show started that he had added the seats. The whole time before the scene, I was thinking about where I was going to throw the burger without hitting anyone. I thought I had found a place; however, people decided to move their seats during the performance. I did the scene and threw the burger and didn't think anymore about it. As we came out after the show, a person came up to me and said, “Hey, here is your hamburger. You threw it right in my lap!”
-- Patrick Kerwin, “Sam Byck”

This is such an awesome show. I was lucky enough to be a part of it both times New Line performed this extraordinary work of Sondheim’s, as Zangara the first time and as the Balladeer the second time. I thought doing it in the round really added to the intimacy and in-your-face nature of the show and helped us achieve something that I believe Sondheim would have been proud of. These were some highlights for me: the duet between Kirsten Kennedy and Colin DeVaughan on “Unworthy of Your Love.” It was beautiful each and every night. Kevin Collier's Czolgosz. Kevin's performance really coooooooked and he has since secured his place in my mind as the epitome of a scary, angry Russian man. (Ivan Drago eat your heart out!) Gary Cox as Zangara. Gary makes more faces on stage than anyone I know. He is so much fun to watch if only to see what his face is going to do!
– Dan Sattel, “Balladeer”

I played Sara Jane Moore, the part that will live in infamy. I loved doing that role, though there is one particular scene that is an actor's nightmare. It includes eating, drinking, smoking, guns and voluminous props – all while talking of course – and one night the seat split open on my real 1970s pants when I sat down. Luckily I had on a long 70s vest which covered the split – which was lucky because the theatre was so hot that none of us wore underwear. Also, the show’s publicity picture of me eating Kentucky Fried Chicken and drinking the Tab soda was literally splattered in every newspaper in town for weeks until everyone was sick of looking at it! However, every place I go, even now, someone will come up and say, “Wow, you were so good in Assassins!” – sometimes people I don't even know. Occasionally, our esteemed director, Scott Miller , is present when this happens, and he says, “Gee, that's great, but there were other people in the show too!”
– Cindy Duggan, “Sara Jane Moore”

My character, Sam Byck, has two monologues during the show, one of them while sitting on a park bench, having lunch and making tape recordings to send to important people so they can hear his message. While I know that many people tell stories of people talking in the audience, I got my first real taste of it during the first week of performances. There was an older gentleman who I think was a bit hard of hearing who thought that my character was really funny. However, he also had a hard time hearing some of what I was saying, since we were doing the show in the round and at times I was not looking at him while doing my lines. During the whole monologue, I could hear the guy making very loud statements like “That guy is really funny,” “He is right about that,” and “Oh, my, that is good.” However, when he couldn't hear me, he kept asking his wife “What did he say?” Eventually, because he was talking so loud, people started to laugh at him and were whispering about The Loud Guy. I kept going and didn't forget too many of my lines, but I will never forget trying to compete with the audience member for attention.
-- Patrick Kerwin, “Sam Byck”

My favorite moment in the show was one I created. It may be the moment I’m most proud of in any show I’ve done. The second to last scene finds all the assassins from all times coming together in the Texas Book Depository to convince Oswald to shoot Kennedy – truly chilling stuff. Then when Oswald pulls the trigger, there’s an instrumental segue in the style of Aaron Copland’s music, and it segues directly into the finale, “Everybody’s Got the Right to Be Happy.” My addition was that during the instrumental segue, I sent each assassin out into the audience. I told them each to pick two or three people and tell those people – quietly, privately, intimately – why they had to kill the president. I told the actors they could use lines from the show or make things up, but to really try to convince the audience. I wanted everyone in the audience to be experiencing something different at this moment, hearing only one or two actors, wondering what the others were saying. Every night, the audience was mesmerized, their eyes glued to the assassin nearest them, hanging on every word. And every night, the last one to finish was Tim Schall as Guiteau, one of the truly insane assassins. And the last words that rang in the air before the finale were Guiteau quietly hissing “I did it for you! I did it for you!” It was the most disturbing moment I’ve ever created in the theatre.
-- Scott Miller, director

Woman with Pocketbook (1998)

Winner of New Line Theatre's
1998 One-Act Musical Competition
Music by Jeff Blumenkrantz
Book and Lyrics by
Annie Kessler and Libby Saines
March 6-14, 1998
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Doris – Angie (Shultz) Reinert
Dave – Tim Schall
Helen – Cindy Duggan
God – John Ricroft
Angel – Marian Holtz
Angel – Sherry Ingmire
Angel – Mo Monahan
Angel – Renee Sevier

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller and Alison Helmer
Assistant Director – T. Joseph Reinert
Choreographer – J.T. Ricroft
Set Designer – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – L.D. Lawson
Lighting Technician – Sara Underwood
Pocketbook Set Pieces – Jack Helmer
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“The music by Jeff Blumenkrantz is pleasant, and the lyrics by Annie Kessler and Libby Saines are often very clever. With appealing performances from the New Line cast, Woman with Pocketbook adds up to an engaging curtain-raiser [to March of the Falsettos].” – Gerry Kowarsky, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“The cast treats this new material well, with really strong comic performances.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
The second half of our evening is a wonderfully whimsical romp through some other compelling issues. New Line held a competition last year for new one-act musicals, a fascinating but almost non-existent genre. Of the twenty-eight shows submitted, Woman with Pocketbook was by far the most interesting and the most fun. In this society that values individual liberties as highly as we do, this show asks some interesting questions. What happens when our concept of individual freedom meets the rigid strictures of religion? How much room is there for individual choice in organized religion's view of God and heaven? And, more to the point, is a moral act truly moral if a person is forced into it?

Both Woman with Pocketbook and March of the Falsettos [the other half of this evening of one-act musicals] are extremely funny and extremely irreverent. Both shows ask some tough questions and leave it to us to sort through the answers, to draw conclusions about love, relationships, family, and God.

And after all, isn't that what theatre does best?

REMEMBERING WOMAN WITH POCKETBOOK
In the spring of 1998, I received a call from a cast member of New Line’s Woman with Pocketbook. They needed an extra Angel and thought of me. It was my first experience at New Line and I was thrilled to be asked, but wasn’t sure what I got myself into. I found out that this Scott Miller guy really isn’t dealing with a full deck. I liked that about him, but he was asking the impossible from his “Angels.” The libretto called for numerous songs of different languages, one verse in Spanish, one verse in Italian, one in Russian, you name it. I was never sure if it was fake or not. Actually, I was never sure of the lyrics! But I wasn’t alone. Angels can be smart. When we didn’t know a line we would look at one another in the hopes somebody would. We each knew certain sections of the foreign lyrics, and among all of us, we could cover them and everybody thought we actually knew what we were doing.
– Mo Monahan, “Angel”

When I heard about this show and found out that Scott was looking for a “crooner,” I knew I had to be a part of it. Besides, how many other chances would I get to play GOD (typecasting of course), especially a God who drinks martinis and smokes cigarettes. Kind of a mix between Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Michael Landon from Highway to Heaven. I remember we pondered hard over “What would God wear?” We had discussion after discussion, and then resolved ourselves to taking the most honest way out. A bright red jacket and black slacks! (Yeah, Scott wanted to take the traditional way, as usual.) Well, the reviews came out and there was hell to pay (pah-dum pah). It seemed that the St. Louis theatre- going public didn't want to see God portrayed in this manner, or at least a few reviewers didn't think it was in good taste. In either case, we gave people things to talk about, which is the whole purpose, right? I was glad that some got the joke and went beyond it to get the meaning and the meat of the production. When you die, you don't get to take the “stuff.” In the last moments, the only thing that matters is what you have on the inside and not what you have in your pocketbook. It was a relief to know that so many people already knew that.
– John Ricroft, “God,” choreographer

It is not often you get the chance to appear in the world premiere of a musical. I found myself as a twenty-four-year-old cast in the role of a sixty-year-old Jewish woman from Brooklyn, but I was so excited to be the lead! I was also terrified to try any accent on the stage, and Scott must have yelled out pronunciations from the piano at me a billion times in rehearsal. When we opened, the show seemed to really connect with many in the audience. It was rewarding to have so many people tell me I reminded them of their mother, their favorite aunt, their crabby neighbor, etc. My gestures onstage and in life became more deliberate, and I learned to stand my ground. Some may consider picking up characteristics of your role as unhealthy, but if you knew Doris, you wouldn't say that. She'd eat you alive.
– Angie Shultz

March of the Falsettos (1998)

Book, music, and lyrics by William Finn
March 6-14, 1998
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Marvin – Jim Merlo
Whizzer – Chris Brenner
Trina – Deborah Sharn
Mendel – Tim Schall
Jason – Peter Merideth

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller and Alison Helmer
Assistant Director – T. Joseph Reinert
Choreographer – J.T. Ricroft
Set Designer – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – L.D. Lawson
Lighting Technician – Sara Underwood
Falsettos Set Pieces – Mark Aeling, MGA Studio
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“New Line Theatre’s current production of Falsettos may be the best work this company has done. . . Scott Miller and Alison Helmer direct a tight, inventive show with imaginative use of expressionistic images.” – Box Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

“Angry, challenging work . . . the New Line performers point up the conflicts within the characters as well as between them.” – Gerry Kowarsky, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
William Finn wrote three one-act musicals about a character (an alter-ego?) named Marvin: In Trousers, March of the Falsettos, and Falsettoland. Later, he and James Lapine combined the second and third chapters into a full-length musical called Falsettos, which enjoyed a healthy run on Broadway. So everybody keeps asking me why we're doing just March of the Falsettos.

When the two one-acts were combined into one full-length show, they were altered, lyrics changed, things added and deleted, to make this new show more unified, more thematically consistent. So the first half of Falsettos became something very different from the one-act March of the Falsettos. In the full-length show, both acts are about Marvin and the development of his relationship with his lover Whizzer. The conflict is about whether or not Marvin and Whizzer can build a life together without killing each other first.

But the one-act March of the Falsettos is about Marvin and his son Jason. In fact, Jason is the heart of March, a boy who needs his father to guide him toward manhood and yet who fears becoming who his father is. The question here is not whether Marvin and Whizzer can stay together. In March, Marvin can't sustain relationships with Whizzer, his wife Trina, or his psychiatrist Mendel. Marvin's only salvation is in sustaining his relationship with his son. The one-act isn't about romance; it's about Marvin growing up enough to help Jason grow up. The title of March of the Falsettos refers to the journey from childhood, when a boy's voice is soprano, to adulthood, when his voice changes and he becomes a man.

Personally, I think March of the Falsettos is a more interesting show, a less conventional musical, a show about deeper, more complicated issues, a show that still deserves to be seen in its original form.

REMEMBERING MARCH OF THE FALSETTOS

I got to work with an incredible cast. Deborah Sharn, whom I had seen in other productions…I was finally going to work with her! I thought at the time: she is a diva goddess. (I do mean that in the good diva sense . . . are you a good diva or a bad diva?) Then I found out she truly is as wonderful off stage as she is on. I am very thankful to have a rich friendship with her now. Jim Merlo makes everyone look great. He is in the wrong profession. (Deborah and I enjoyed the kisses as much as you, Jim.) I would watch from the wings in amazement of his acting and characterization. He made every character come to life. For me it was the first time I really understood how a song can advance a plot, how to act a song and get to the inner meaning of the lyrics. The whole cast was wonderful to work with and I will never forget them.
– Chris Brenner, “Whizzer Brown”

Extreme Sondheim (1997)

an exploration of the art of Stephen Sondheim
a world premiere revue
Conceived by Scott Miller
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
featuring songs from Company, A Little Night Music, Merrily We Roll Along, Anyone Can Whistle, Follies, Assassins, Pacific Overtures, Into the Woods, Passion, and Sunday in the Park with George
November 7-22, 1997
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Chris Brenner, Electa Carlton, Kevin Collier, Gary Cox, Cindy Duggan, Sherry Frank, Keith Hale, Alison Helmer, Lisa Karpowicz, Patrick Kerwin, Jim Merlo, Judy Moebeck, Angela Shultz, Dan Sattel, Leo Schloss

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Director – Scott Miller
Assistant Director – T. Joseph Reinert
Set Designers – Scott Miller, Alison Helmer, Dennis Moore, and Greg Hunsaker
Lighting Designer – L.D. Lawson
Lighting Technician – Sara Underwood
Costume Coordinator – Quenten Schumacher II
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Debbie Bernardoni
Trumpet – Paul Hecht
Bass – Terry Kippenberger
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE SONG LIST
Act I
Connection
“Company” from Company
“Now/Later/Soon” from A Little Night Music
“Another Hundred People” from Company
“Franklin Shepard Inc.” from Merrily We Roll Along
Sondheim’s Women
“There’s Always a Woman” cut from Anyone Can Whistle
“The Ladies Who Lunch” from Company
“Liaisons” from A Little Night Music
“Could I Leave You?” from Follies
Mad About Sondheim
“You Could Drive a Person Crazy” from Company
“Getting Married Today” from Company
“Buddy’s Blues” from Follies
“A Weekend in the Country” from A Little Light Music

Act II
The American Dream
“Another National Anthem” from Assassins
“The Ballad of Booth” from Assassins
“The Miracle Song” from Anyone Can Whistle
“Me and My Town” from Anyone Can Whistle
Point of View
“Perpetual Anticipation” from A Little Night Music
“Pretty Lady” from Pacific Overtures
“Giants in the Sky” from Into the Woods
“Someone in a Tree” from Pacific Overtures
Choices
“Opening Doors” from Merrily We Roll Along
“Loving You” from Passion
“No One Has Ever Loved Me” from Passion
“Move On” from Sunday in the Park with George
“No One is Alone” from Into the Woods
“Hills of Tomorrow” from Merrily We Roll Along

THE REVIEWS
“At New Line Theatre, where Extreme Sondheim is now playing, comedy carries the day. The show sparkles in an imaginative trio of comedy songs near the end of the first act. . . All these songs, with their dazzling lyrics and sophisticated musical style, capture Sondheim’s contemporary, New York attitude and are strong enough to work in a revue, stripped of their plot lines.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“For those not familiar with his work, this production will provide a marvelous overview of the work of a talented composer and lyricist. If you are a Sondheim fan, you will relish in sitting back and enjoying an evening of wonderful music presented by a diverse and talented group of performers.” - Norma West, KDHX-FM

“What I did realize, hearing the songs out of context this way, was not only how clever and how lyrical Sondheim’s songs are, but how dramatic they are.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Stephen Sondheim once said that to be a musician, to live in music, is a gift from God.

Sometimes working on this material became so difficult, so consuming, that we forgot what a gift we had been given – the opportunity to work on, to collaborate on, some of the most brilliant, most emotional, most transforming words and music ever written for the theatre.

Hard-core Sondheim fans often seem like snobs to other musical theatre fans (I've been accused of that myself). It's not intentional. It's a lot like being a wine connoisseur. Once you've experienced the really great stuff, the mediocre stuff is just not satisfying anymore. Once you've wrapped your tongue around the romantic, passionate lyrics in Passion, once you've mastered the patter lyrics to “Getting Married Today,” once you've sung the glorious dissonances in “The Hills of Tomorrow,” nothing else will ever be the same. I know that sounds a bit over-dramatic, but it's really true.

What's so addictive about Sondheim's work is that once you've started exploring its complexities, its subtexts, its great depth, you find that the journey never ends. The more you discover about Company or Passion, the more you also discover about life, about yourself, about your relationships with those around you. We laugh at “Getting Married Today” in Company because we know Amy's fear. Tears come to our eyes when we hear “Loving You” because we've all known the pain of obsessive love.

We hope you can throw yourself into this material the way we have; to hear the jokes, the comic literary references, and the amazing interior rhymes in “Now”; to really hear the fourteen characters who are all talking at the same time in the song “Company”; to laugh at the absurd egotism and heartlessness of Cora in “Me and My Town”; to catch all the subtle digs at organized religion in “The Miracle Song”; to savor the unparalleled beauty of Stephen Sondheim's music.

We hope Extreme Sondheim gives you an opportunity to listen to these songs more carefully than you could in their original context, without the distractions of sets and costumes, without having to follow the plot. Just the purity of the words and music.

Some critics have complained that Sondheim is too intellectual and too emotionally distant. I think tonight you'll see how wrong they are.

REMEMBERING EXTREME SONDHEIM
Scott called me one day and asked if I would be willing to be in a concert called Extreme Sondheim. I turned him down initially, because I was getting married six days before the opening of the show (which was also my birthday). I reconsidered and agreed to come sing. I was soon to find out what the phrase “art imitates life” really means. When another cast member quit the show, Scott asked me to sing “Getting Married Today” in which Amy spouts all of her fears about getting married and comes up with just about every excuse to get out of it. I must have been asked a million times how in the world I could do that song and be planning my own wedding. My wedding went off without a hitch, the show was well received, but we all know the star of that number was that neon pink veil.
– Angie Shultz

My first show with New Line was Extreme Sondheim. I was very excited to work with this company, but also extremely nervous to be working with all these great people who had done numerous shows with New Line already. The first night of rehearsal I remember being simply amazed at how wonderful the ensemble sounded already, and we hadn't even rehearsed at all. As time went along, I started to feel part of the group. I was one of the singers for the song “Someone in a Tree” and I was playing the part of the person under the floor that was listening to what was going on. I noticed that some of the other company members that were watching were starting to laugh during the song. It kept going on during the song and I was starting to wonder if I sounded that bad. After we were over, they said that when I came out on stage and crouched down for the song, it looked like I was a frog about ready to hop around on stage. Needless to say, the rest of the show, they kept calling me The Frog.
– Patrick Kerwin

Two food stories. Well, there was the “cake” incident. I ordered this wonderful cake from McArthur's bakery. The cake decoration was like the cover of the program. Well, to my horror, I did not notice till I brought the cake into the show closing night, that the R was missing. It said “Exteme Sondheim.” The joke of the night was, “So where R you?” Everybody started calling me Chis. Then, at the cast party, at my house, Bad Ass Judy (Judy Moebeck) and I made a lovely White Castle paté. People really did not care for it too much; I guess because I used pickle juice instead of white wine for flavoring. Like it would really make a difference. Extreme Sondheim was the first time I actually met some of the performers from past New Line shows. I was very intimidated; I thought, “My God, these people are so talented – what can I offer?” But everyone was so wonderful and nice and just fun to be with and so supportive of everyone.
– Chris Brenner, cast member

The Music of Sondheim – A Parody
(To the tune of “The Hills of Tomorrow”
from Sondheim’s Merrily We Roll Along,
with parody lyrics by Scott Miller.)

Bemoan the music of Sondheim,
His words too numerous, too.
You’ll start to seethe –
There’s no time to breathe,
As the lyrics race,
Behold your face turns blue.

Beyond this music, you long for
A simpler musical score…
Just once begin --
You will never win,
As you bust your guts
And wonder what’s it for…

The Ballad of Little Mikey (1997)

Book, Music, and Lyrics by
Mark Savage
June 13-28, 1997
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

a St. Louis premiere
Book, Music, and Lyrics by Mark Savage
June 13-28, 1997
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST

Mikey – Mike Porter
Steve – Keith Price
Clay – Quenten Schumacher II
David – Ryan Keller
Robert – Kevin Collier
Charles – Tim Kent
Josh – Jim Hannah
Dr. Russo/Murray Cade – Gary Cox

THE ARTISTIC STAFF

Directors – Scott Miller and Brian Tibbets
Directing Intern – Jeffrey Yapp
Costume Designer – Tim Kent
Scenic Designer – Dennis Moore
Lighting Designer – Leif Gantvoort
Props – Jeffrey Yapp
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BAND

Piano – Scott Miller
Guitar – Mike Bauer
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“When you think you’ve seen it all, along comes something like The Ballad of Little Mikey, the only musical comedy ever to include a number about anonymous sex in a public bathroom. . . That willingness to poke fun is the sharpest thing about the play.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“Though your jaw may drop, you’ll be hard pressed not to smile, for this number [“Tap”], and in fact most of Little Mikey, is offered with such a winning spirit that you can’t resist. . . Particularly in the first act, the show is smartly self-mocking, exploring the gay ethos with predictable romantic fawning and some sure, swift kicks.” – Mike Isaacson, The Riverfront Times

“Scott Miller and his New Line Theatre continue to bring St. Louis challenging, refreshing musical theatre that you simply can’t see anywhere else. . . The Ballad of Little Mikey will make you think and it will teach you a thing or two.” – Steve Callahan, KDHX-FM

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Much of the action of The Ballad of Little Mikey takes place in 1981, the year Ronald Reagan was elected president. The gay movement had been gaining considerable ground since the historic Stonewall riot of 1969. In 1979 alone, the year leading up to the action of this show, a gay high school senior sued his school for the right to take another boy to prom. The first national gay march on Washington was attended by 100,000 protesters. California Governor Jerry Brown signed an executive order prohibiting anti-gay discrimination in state hiring. Los Angeles became the 44th city to enact gay civil rights legislation. And the Moral Majority was formed by Jerry Falwell to oppose gay rights, pornography, feminism, and communism.

At that time, gay literature was not what it is today. Most gay stories were about how hard it is to be gay, about facing rejection and discrimination, about trying to find love in a world that demonizes homosexuality. Gay characters were not at all like straight characters.

But at some point in the last decade of this millennium, things have really changed for gay Americans. Suddenly, being gay isn't so outrageous. Suddenly, there are gay characters all over mainstream TV. Suddenly, kids are coming out of the closet in high school – some kids today are never even in the closet. There are gay high school proms, gay high school students forming gay student clubs, celebrities and politicians (even Republicans) coming out of the closet in record numbers.

And gay literature and theatre have turned a corner. Instead of stories about Being Gay and the pain of being an outcast (as in The Boys in the Band, La Cage aux Folles, etc.), stories are now being written about gay characters finding love, building relationships, dealing with family, work, and friendships. Though the main characters are gay, the stories are about facing the same problems and joys straight people face.

The Ballad of Little Mikey embodies both these traditions: the scenes set in 1981 are centered on the issue of being gay and what that means in a hostile world, while the scenes set in the present are about relationships, love, compromise, and sacrifice. In fact, a straight couple could play the scenes in the present without changing a word. Mikey not only covers two distinct political and cultural periods, but also two eras in gay literature and theatre. It's interesting to realize that the fantasies the friends express in the song “Ten Percent” are actually coming true – there are gays in the House and the Senate, and people really do take their gay spouses to company picnics now.

Being gay is no longer something to be ashamed of. As a society, we've grown up with Mikey and learned as he did that it's not about who you love; it's about how you love.

REMEMBERING MIKEY
I found the cast album of Mikey at Webster Records and fell in love with its honesty, its humor, and its heart. Without too much effort, I got in touch with Mark Savage, who wrote the show, and we had soon made a deal for New Line to produce Mikey. The only thing that worried me about staging the show was the song “Tap,” an extended, comic musical scene about Mikey discovering the mysteries of gay men having anonymous sex in public bathrooms in the 1970s. How was I going to deal with this number, in which a bunch of gay men do a soft shoe number with their pants around their ankles? But I did what I always do when I’m stumped. I took a step back from it, and my co-director Brian and I asked that all important question, “What is this song about at its core?” I realized this song was about Mikey discovering anonymous sex and finding it altogether unpleasant and unsatisfying. This was an experience he had to go through on his journey to becoming a healthy, well-adjusted, monogamous gay man. I realized the audience had to be led to the same conclusion as Mikey. It had to be slightly disturbing, even though it was a comedy number. I also knew from past experience that if a director is afraid of offending and shies away from presenting a moment on stage honestly, the audience will smell that fear and will inevitably be offended anyway (audiences are kinda like dogs, that way). But if you present that moment honestly, the reaction is generally much better. So we really went for it in “Tap.” We simulated every sexual position a person could navigate in a public bathroom. We created a Busby Berkeley-inspired rainbow colored ring of toilet seats. We created an in-your-face, no-holds-barred, admittedly sexual, comedy number, and it worked. Audiences loved it, and few people were offended. Only one person walked out during the entire run. But Mark Savage himself had the funniest reaction. When I asked him what he thought of that number, he told me it was so extreme, so sexual. I laughed and said, “Mark, you’re the one who wrote a song about anonymous bathroom sex!”

-- Scott Miller, director

Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris (1997)

Music and Original French Lyrics by Jacques Brel
Conception, English Lyrics and Additional Material by
Eric Blau and Mort Shuman, based on Brel’s Commentary
February 21-March 1, 1997
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Laura Beard Aeling, Kevin Collier, Johanna Schloss, Mark Stulce

THE ARTISTIC STAFFDirectors – Scott Miller and Brian Tibbets
Scene Painter – Andy Milner
Set Decorator -- Leif Gantvoort
Lighting Designer – L.D. Lawson
Lighting Technician – Makeesha Coleman
Costume Coordinator – Quenten Schumacher II
Graphic Designer – Tracy Collins

THE BANDPiano – Scott Miller
Guitar/Mandolin – Mike Bauer
Bass – Terry Kippenberger
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“New Line Theatre . . . has taken on the challenge and acquits itself with an entertaining and thoughtful production. . . directors Scott Miller and Brian Tibbets have understood and captured Brel’s smoky, bittersweet flavor.” – Judith Newmark, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“Jacques Brel himself may have died a few years ago, but his spirit and his unique songs are indeed alive and well and living at the St. Marcus Theatre. . .The New Line Theatre’s current production captures all the potent poetry of Brel, and it is surprisingly fresh and current, despite the sometimes strong political or social content.” – Steve Callahan, KDHX-FM

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
More than any other piece written for the musical stage, Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris defies description. It is an evening of independent songs (almost one-act musicals), yet it's not a revue. It doesn't have a plot or even an immediately recognizable cast of characters, so it's not really a book musical.

We think it's a one-character musical with a cast of four. Two women and two men all portray one character: Jacques Brel. The words are Brel's, the opinions, insights, and satiric wit are Brel's. The underlying, sometimes nearly hidden optimism is Brel's. The show is more a character study than anything else, but we must ask if it is a character study of just Jacques Brel the man or also of western civilization at the end of the 20th century?

Jacques Brel was born in Belgium in 1929 but moved to Paris to be a singer and songwriter. By the early 1960s, Brel had established a reputation as one of France's greatest writers and interpreters of modern songs. In 1957, the first American recording of Brel's songs was released. In 1961, Elly Stone sang two Brel songs, “Ne me quitte pas” (“Don't Leave Me”) and “La Valse mille temps,” (“The Waltz in 1,000 Time”) in a strange off-Broadway revue called O, Oysters!

Though the show didn't run long, Stone continued to perform these two songs. In 1968, Eric Blau and Mort Shuman created an off-Broadway musical using twenty-five of Brel's songs, called Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris, and it ran for 1,847 performances. The show has been revived twice in New York. A film version was released in 1975, which included an appearance by Brel. Since the show first opened, Brel's songs have been recorded by artists as diverse as David Bowie, Judy Collins, and Barry Manilow. Brel died in 1978 at age 49, but they didn't change the title of the show. You'll see why tonight.

Very few of Jacques Brel's songs are simple and straight-forward. He was a poet as much as a songwriter, and the words he writes often cloak a deeper meaning. So many of the songs in the show are not what they appear to be. “I Loved” is about being in love with the symbols of love instead of with a person. “Bachelor's Dance” is about unrealistic expectations. “My Death” is a view of death as inevitable but patient. “Jackie” is a man who hates his life and wishes he could return to the innocence and simplicity of childhood. “The Statue” condemns the false (and dangerous?) romanticizing of war and soldiering. “Brussels” is about denial in the face of danger. “No Love, You're Not Alone,” is about how we project our own sorrow onto someone else so that they will “need” us. Every single song is an adventure and a meditation.

You'll never see another show like this one, and we'll never work on another show like this. So we really treasure this experience.

We hope you will, too.

REMEMBERING JACQUES BREL
This was one of my favorite New Line shows. Not only was the material challenging and inspiring, but also the small company was genuinely warm and supportive. Many events during the run were memorable in their own right – Laura slicing her hand open with her umbrella during “Madeleine” (and finishing the last hour and forty-five minutes of the show with her hand wrapped in whatever clean cloth could be found); Mark hiding words to his songs in the doorway to steal a glance when he could; Scott and Brian demonstrating the complicated choreography of “Carousel” as the four of us watched in fascination and horror; Kevin's incredibly poignant rendition of “The Statue” resonating through a silenced house. However, there is one simple memory that sticks with me, too – the memory of Kevin's and Laura's hands holding mine while we stood in semi-darkness at the edge of the stage and sang “The Desperate Ones” and “If We Only Have Love.” At the end of each of those songs, there would be a quiet moment, and just before the audience applauded, we'd lightly squeeze each other's hands. That remains one of my favorite theatre moments.

– Johanna Schloss, cast member

One of the most rewarding experiences that I had working with New Line was assisting with the choreography on both “Marathon” and “Carousel” for Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris. These two songs provided such a good framing mechanism for the entire show, incorporating all of the show’s warnings and prophecies into fiercely overt language and imagery. The choreography for both songs needed to mirror those warnings accurately. This was a large task because of the wildly different types of music in the show. Staying true to the music was necessary, and in the end, it is what made those two songs most effective.

For “Marathon,” the lyrics “flashed” different images of various aspects of the twentieth century, ranging from “the twenties roar because there’s bathtub gin” to the prophetic “and the nineties whimper and the century hangs.” Scott and I spent hours working with different ideas until we finally ended up with a frantic, whirlwind tour of the century, the actors mimicking the lyrics. It opened the evening very nicely and set the stage for the rest of the show.

The choreography for “Carousel” gave us fits because of the repetition and increasingly frantic pace of the music. Again, the music dictated the sense of urgency and warning, wrapped up in a seemingly innocent amusement ride. The circular motion of the carousel translated nicely into a tight circle that moved with the music, ever scarier, like a machine out of control. Johanna, Kevin, Mark, and Laura nailed the foreboding hand movements perfectly, and I was always left breathless on the final beat. The most satisfying aspect of working with Scott on the choreography for Brel, and these two songs in particular, was that it was a truly organic process. We tried things. We researched. We argued over ideas. We consulted the cast. The music was revisited over and over again to insure that everything was timed perfectly and that it continued to make sense, even in the waning days of rehearsal. In the end, I believe those two songs really shone through because of the work and the attention to detail that we gave it. At no point was the message of Brel compromised by the movements of the actors, one of the many things that I am most proud of during my work with New Line.

– Brian Tibbets, co-director

I’m sitting at the piano during one performance of Jacques Brel and I’m thinking everything is going really well. The audience is with us and the cast looks like they’re having a great time. It’s not until after the performance that I find out that Laura has sliced her hand open with a umbrella that had broken during the show’s fourth song, “Madeleine.” Apparently, she had just sat there and bled until she could get off stage, and then couldn’t find a first aid kit. The most impressive thing was that she never missed a beat and it didn’t affect her performance in the least. The funniest thing was the next night when we assembled onstage to warm up and we found a dozen or so puddles of dried blood scattered around the stage. Laura examined the spots calmly and then said, “I bet that’s a bio-hazard.”

– Scott Miller, director