Company (1995)

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by George Furth
November 10-18, 1995
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Robert – Michael Davidson
Harry – Gary Cox
Sarah – Lisa Karpowicz
Peter – Joseph Taro
Susan – Johanna Schloss
David – Greg Hunsaker
Jenny – Sherry Frank
Paul – Andrew Nowak
Amy – Laura Beard Aeling
Larry – Keith Price
Joanne – Teresa Doggett
Marta – Angela Shultz
April – Michelle Collier
Kathy – Heather Holland

THE ARTISTIC STAFFDirector – Scott Miller
Choreographer – Michelle Collier
Lighting Designer – Kathy Mayhew
Assistant Lighting Designer – Renee Sevier
Set Designers – Greg Hunsaker, Laura Beard Aeling
Scenic Painter – Andy Milner
Graphic Designer – Tracy Collins

THE BANDPiano – Catherine Edwards
Percussion – Adam Kopff

DIRECTOR’S NOTESIt has been said that you can do anything you want in a musical as long as you do it within the first ten minutes. In other words, audiences will accept any style of music, any unusual structural devices, as long as the show's particular ground rules are established in the first ten minutes of the show. And that's exactly what the first song in Company does. The opening bars of the song “Company” instantly establish the frenetic, pulsing rhythm of the city and of modern life. When the voices enter, the couples are established as the focus of the show, along with their smothering affection for Robert. We realize that everything we see will be through Robert's eyes; and the show's surreal style suggests that it's all happening in Robert's mind, in his memory, as he tries to sort out his questions about commitment.

The couples begin the opening song with their various nicknames for Robert, which will return as a leitmotif (a musical theme representing a particular idea) throughout the score. This quickly segues into short phrases that illustrate how hard it is to communicate with Robert. We hear the voices through Robert's ears, overlapping, overwhelming, smothering. In the last sentence of the song, the title of the show is equated with love, and by implication, both are equated with marriage. Before the song is over, Sondheim has established the style, structure, and pace of the show, the brittle cleverness of the lyrics, important relationships, and the major themes of the show.

Like many of Sondheim's scores, Company is filled with commentary songs. In more traditional musicals, songs grow naturally out of dialogue, and characters aren't aware of the fact that they're singing. But in many of the songs in Company (and in Follies, Into the Woods, Assassins, etc.), the characters step out of the scene and address the audience directly. This makes the audience step back and think about what's happening rather than just feeling. Company’s score is also unusual in its extensive use of musical motifs to connect characters and events. The “Bobby Buby' motif used throughout the show focuses our attention on the married couples in opposition to Robert, their attitudes toward him, etc. Both “Tick Tock” (the instrumental piece while Robert and April have sex) and “Being Alive” make interesting use of motifs from many other songs in the show. “Tick Tock” even quotes The Twilight Zone theme.

Company is a fascinating musical that uses music as an integral part of the narrative process, while it completely discards the traditional look of chronological storytelling. But very few other musicals have followed its lead. Most later “concept” musicals copied Company's construction but were afraid to totally ignore the conventions of narrative theatre. Company stands as one of the greatest innovations in the history of musical theatre, and we can only ask twenty-five years later, isn't it time for someone to take us the next step?

REMEMBERING COMPANY

Everything I needed to know about musicals I learned doing Company. Well, while that may not be entirely accurate, I will say that the experience was invaluable in many ways. After dropping out of college, I moved home – completely lost about what to do with my life. I saw the audition notice for Company, and must have talked myself in and out of auditioning nearly a hundred times. I was dying to do a Sondheim show (I didn't know people actually produced anything of his besides Into the Woods), so I finally resolved myself to going. When I first rehearsed with the cast, I knew I was a part of something incredible. I learned how truly great musicals are constructed. I learned to take chances. I learned what the bond of theatre lovers is like. I took these things, and in time gained the direction and focus I had been seeking.

– Angie Shultz, “Marta”

In the Blood (1995)

a world premiere
Book, Music, and Lyrics by Scott Miller
May 5-20, 1995
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis
Purchase the script here.
Purchase the vocal selections here.
Ask about production rights!

THE CAST
Zachary Church – Jim Freund
Adam Graham – Leo Schloss
Rebecca Young – Laura Beard Aeling
Chaz Williams – Andrew Nowak
Danny Hooper – Keith Price
Ruby – Lisa Garcia Fensterman
Jeannie – Johanna Schloss
J.D. – Scott A. Trip
Ricki – Victoria Edrington

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Director – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – Steven P. Dohrmann
Set Coordinator – Greg Hunsaker
Graphic Designer – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Debbie Bernardoni
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“Ideas loom large in this work. The central one is ingenious. . . Two things do work for me in In the Blood. One – and it surprised me – was the vampire business. . . The other thing is the love story between the vampire and the hematologist. . . Much of that emotional conviction grows from Miller’s music, which is, I think, the best score he’s done for a show.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

“Conflicts lead to high-voltage confrontations.” – Gerry Kowarsky, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

AUTHOR’S NOTES
I've come a long way since the first musical I wrote back in 1981. Since then, I've written traditional book musicals (shows with a linear plot line), concept musicals, an absurdist musical comedy, a political musical, even an educational musical about the history of astronomy (no kidding).

This was the first time I've ever had a public reading and discussion of one of my shows, and it was a wonderful experience for me, for the actors, and for the audience. A big crowd showed up at our reading in February – a lot more than we expected – and their comments during the discussion afterward were for the most part intelligent and very useful. Since the reading, I've done a lot of rewriting, cutting, adding, and rearranging to strengthen the show. It's been through four versions so far, the latest of which is still being revised as I write this.

For the first time, I've constructed a score in which musical themes are used to connect characters and dramatic events. For instance, the melody to the chorus of Adam's song “The River of Life” is also the melody to the bridge in Zach's “Hell,” in order to connect these two characters emotionally; and it shows up again in their Act II duet, “Alone.” A number of other musical themes are sprinkled throughout the evening to link dramatic events and reinforce important concepts (death, loneliness, etc). Most of Stephen Sondheim's scores, Andrew Lloyd Webber's earlier works, shows like Les Misérables, and a lot of operas use musical themes in this way, and it's been fascinating playing with these musical puzzle pieces to help tell this story, even if it's only on a subliminal level.

I read a great quote recently, that premises belong on stage, and conclusions belong in the house. In other words, a playwright shouldn't tell his audience what to think; he should present interesting issues and ideas and let them form their own opinions. Of course, this is easier said than done, and it is asking more of an audience than the average musical theatre audience expects. But I have found that New Line's audiences enjoy a challenging theatre piece. As with most of our shows, In the Blood addresses a variety of issues. I hope you find it interesting and thought-provoking, as well as a lot of fun.

REMEMBERING IN THE BLOOD
Unintentional pauses onstage are the scariest thing an actor can encounter, and In the Blood had a classic. It was one of the last performances, the beginning of the last scene. Leo is onstage, “unconscious” in a hospital bed. Laura is standing next to the bed, but she’s losing her voice, and she’s blown it out during the performances so that she can now barely make a peep. Andy and Keith are also onstage, all of them waiting for Jim to enter. But Jim is offstage trying to make a costume change and he can’t open the fastener on his tux pants to take them off. So there they stand onstage, no one saying a thing as the audience hears the frantic jingling of Jim’s belt offstage. Neither Andy nor Keith can think of a single thing to say. There is more than a minute of dead silence – an eternity onstage. Finally Jim yells his first line from offstage. No one responds. He keeps jingling. After what seems like ten minutes but is actually only about two minutes, Jim finally makes it onstage, just in time to keep me from having a coronary embolism at the piano. After the show, we all have a good stiff drink and I tell Jim he can leave the tux pants on for the last scene.

– Scott Miller, author/director

Pippin (1994)

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz
Book by Roger O. Hirson and (uncredited) Bob Fosse
October 28-November 5, 1994
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Pippin – Dan Sattel
Leading Player – Amy Jayne
Charles/Berthe – Kevin Collier
Fastrada – Laura Beard Aeling
Lewis – Leo Schloss
Catherine – Lisa Karpowicz
The Sweet Faced Player – Beck Hunter
The Player with Fire – Jason “Skippy” Kastrup
The Manly Player – Matthew R. Kerns

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Director – Scott Miller
Choreographer – Michelle Collier
Production Consultant – Sara Lee Hart
Lighting Designer – Kathleen Mayhew
Assistant Lighting Designer – Renee Sevier
Set Coordinator – Greg Hunsaker
Lighting Technician – Kim Wood
Graphic Design – Tracy Collins

THE BANDPiano – Debbie Bernardoni
Keyboards – Thomas Reed
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“If you like musical theatre that goes for the guts, head for the St. Marcus Theatre . . . where New Line’s Pippin runs.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times
“Pippin seems to me to be New Line’s slickest production to date – skilled cast, excellent technical work, and polished vision. . . The pit band is nothing short of outstanding.” – Harry Weber, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR’S NOTESStephen Schwartz and Roger Hirson created a pleasant little musical called The Adventures of Pippin in the early 1970s. But after director Bob Fosse was through re-writing it, it was a cynical, sexual, slickly decadent morality play. When Schwartz raised too many objections to Fosse's changes, he was banned from rehearsals. But after it closed on Broadway, Schwartz had his ideas restored to the script and many of Fosse's changes taken back out, for future productions. New Line's production returns to Fosse's original dark vision of Pippin's quest for fulfillment and identity.

Pippin is a young man with no idea what he wants from his life. Luckily, a traveling troupe of players appears who have helped other young men in Pippin's predicament. They offer to play out his life for him – with colored lights, music and dance, comedy and drama – so that he can try things in his search for fulfillment. With the players' help, his quest becomes a roller coaster ride of razzle-dazzle entertainment and seductively dangerous excesses.

What Pippin doesn't realize though, is that the players' only goal is for him to do their Grand Finale. They make sure he fails at everything so that the finale will be his only remaining opportunity to find perfection. But it's not until the big moment arrives that they tell Pippin what he has to do. They want him to get in a box and set himself on fire – “a glorious synthesis of life and death, and life again!” They want him to commit suicide, live on stage.

When Pippin resists, the Leading Player offers the opportunity to the audience. We can do the finale instead of Pippin. She says to us, “If you should decide to do so, we'll be there for you, waiting. Why, we're right inside your heads.”

Up until that point, Pippin is a morality tale with the unpleasant lesson that complete fulfillment doesn't exist. Like John Hinckley and Lee Harvey Oswald in last season's Assassins, Pippin thinks the world owes him happiness. When he can't find it, he's angry, confused, bitter. He's told he has to settle for an average life and the fulfillment of none of his ideals.

But when Leading Player says to us, “Why, we're right inside your heads,” suddenly it's a whole new ballgame. The players are in Pippin's mind. In fact, the whole show is Pippin's fever dream, a hallucination full of the magic he never found in his life, all happening in the moment before he kills himself. His family is populated by perverse stereotypes, his fantasies filled with frightening characters of his own creation. In reality, Pippin has been causing himself to fail at everything throughout the show, and he has been convincing himself to commit suicide.

We wonder why murder and suicide among teenagers continues to increase. Maybe Pippin knows why. We create outrageous expectations for our young people and then sabotage their chances at attaining them, asking them to grow up faster with each generation. We rarely offer them role models and we destroy the ones they have, people like O.J. Simpson, Michael Jackson, Clarence Thomas, even Captain Kirk. We tell them they can have anything they want, but it's not true. As rock star Kurt Cobain discovered recently, when everything else is trashed, all that's left is the Grand Finale.

REMEMBERING PIPPIN

If you know Scott, you know of his insistence that his actors go “over the top” in their performances. I never really had a problem with that notion until I did Pippin. Scott wanted me to play Pippin like a spoiled-rotten, annoying kid. I would like to repeat loud and clear for those of you that saw Pippin – SCOTT MADE ME DO IT! I have never really fought Scott on any of his directorial decisions, but this one drove me crazy. No matter what I did, it wasn’t big enough or wasn’t “animated” enough. To add fuel to the fire, I had been suckered by Leo Schloss and Scott to quit smoking during the length of our rehearsal schedule and performances, so my voice had a fighting chance at hitting the demanding vocal part. (Side note: I said “suckered” because Leo promised to quit as well so I wouldn’t be going through hell alone, and I later found out that he hadn’t and both of them had been lying to me the whole time. I’ve since forgiven them for this horrible deceit). Anyway, I was a little edgy and Scott kept telling me to “go bigger, go bigger.” It was frustrating to say the least. Finally, I said to myself, “He’s never going to let up until you look like a complete idiot.” With this new realization, I transformed Pippin into the most annoying, self-absorbed human being I could imagine . . . and Scott loved it. You want to get on Scott’s good side? Annoy the heck out of him.

-- Dan Sattel, “Pippin”

Laura Beard Aeling is quite the bohemian. She's a performing artist. She's a visual artist. She's a creative talent. At the time we were doing Pippin, she worked for a company that made large, blow-up, three-dimensional versions of Edvard Munch's famous painting The Scream. On the first night, the cast gathered for the initial read-through of the script for Pippin. In addition to the older, crustier veterans of New Line, there were new faces. Matt Kearns, Skippy Kastrup, and Beck Hunter were the young kids of the crowd. Fresh-faced. Impressionable. Wide-eyed. The cast was asked to take turns in sharing their names and something about themselves with everyone. Laura announced that this was her second New Line production and that, “I make designer inflatables.” The three young cast members glanced curiously at each other and then at me. As Laura continued, I said to the rookies, “Sans orifice.” Laura, without taking a breath and in the middle of her sentence turned to me and said, “Philistine,” and went right on with her introduction.

-- Leo Schloss, “Lewis”

I wanted to do Pippin to shut up all the people who were always telling me what a silly, shallow piece of irrelevance it is. I think it’s one of the best of the American musicals, and not just because of Bob Fosse’s original choreography. The more I worked on this show, the more I understood that this is not a show about Charlemagne’s son; it’s a show about a spoiled, aimless college grad trying to find himself in the morally and emotionally barren landscape of modern-day America. Only from that perspective does everything in it make sense. And my other revelation – that the entire show must be happening in Pippin’s head, that in fact he is his own tormentor – seems to be the only way this show works. Yet I’ve never seen anybody else do it that way. Because the original was full of razzle-dazzle, people missed all the red meat in it. It really does work when you let it, when you respect it. Pippin is a rich, complicated, smart piece of theatre about a very real, very flawed central character that addresses some extremely important issues in American life. And I’ve realized, after doing Pippin and other overly maligned shows, that most of the time when people blame their mediocre productions on mediocre material, it’s almost always the production’s fault and not the material’s. I have found again and again, with Pippin, Anyone Can Whistle, Assassins, Passion, Songs for a New World, and Floyd Collins – all shows that have been heavily criticized – that if you give a show your greatest effort, your greatest and deepest thought, and if you always assume a problem is yours and not the show’s, the show will often reveal itself to be the masterpiece only the fanatics knew it was.

– Scott Miller, director

One of my favorite memories of Pippin was due to one of the disadvantages of the St. Marcus Theatre. Because the theatre was in a church basement, the ceiling was fairly low, and because the stage was raised two feet, it was only nine feet from the stage floor to the ceiling. Adding to that, Kevin Collier, who played Charlemagne, was six-foot-eight. So poor Kevin had to really watch for any lights hanging above the stage. In one extended musical scene, “Spread a Little Sunshine,” Kevin had to enter and exit the stage several times. In rehearsals, each time he’d enter, he’d walk onstage and – bam! – slam his forehead right into one of the lights. It happened every night, every entrance during this scene. The first time we were worried if he was hurt; every time after that we’d all giggle like third graders. It was just such a ridiculous sight. (I’m not sure why we never thought about moving the light.) Somehow, he finally learned to avoid it and I don’t think he ever hit that light during a performance.

– Scott Miller, director

Assassins (1994)

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by John Weidman
June 17-25, 1994
St. Marcus Theatre, St. Louis 

This was the first of New Line's three productions of the show, followed by productions in 1998 and 2008.

THE CAST
The Balladeer/Lee Harvey Oswald – Dan Carter
John Wilkes Booth – Anthony Mullin
Charles Guiteau – Gary Cox
Leon Czolgosz – Kevin Collier
Giuseppe Zangara – Dan Sattel
Samuel Byck – Joe Blackerby
Sara Jane Moore – Amy Jayne
Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme – Johanna Schloss
John Hinckley – Andrew Nowak
The Proprietor – Leo Schloss
Emma Goldman – Laura Beard Aeling
Michelle Laflen
Andy Wolterman

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller and Steve Kutheis
Music Director – Scott Miller
Set and Props Coordinator – Greg Hunsaker
Lighting Designer – Steven P. Dohrmann
Sound Designer – Greg Rosebrock
Graphic Designer – Tracy Collins

THE BAND
Piano – Debbie Bernardoni
Keyboards – Scott Miller
Percussion – Luis Fernández

THE REVIEWS
“A surprisingly effective theater piece, in spite of, or perhaps because of, its unusual subject matter. The current production by the New Line Theatre brings out the best the show has to offer. . . The disparate elements of the show come together in large part because of the teamwork of the New Line cast. Individually, the performers all have fine moments, but they are at their best in what they do together.” – Gerry Kowarsky, St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“New Line Theatre’s current production at the St. Marcus Theatre shores up the unity of this analysis of presidential assassins. . . Assassins is ambitious, fascinating work.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

“Anyone who tackles any Sondheim show and succeeds in entertaining without embarrassing themselves is a worthy force. But this group seems to go beyond that and strives for perfection in every aspect.” – Steve Allen, KFUO-FM

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Assassins is a musical character study of the men and women who have tried to kill U.S. presidents, and of the reasons, obsessions, and protests that led each of them to this extreme act. Some did it for political reasons, others for personal reasons, others still because they were genuinely crazy.

The show's creators don't ask you to sympathize with the assassins, only to spend some time with them and realize that they are real and complicated people – much more than faceless “assassins.” They are as much a product of their times and of our American society as any one of us. When we wonder why kids are killing each other on our streets, we would do well to listen to these nine Americans. Their feelings of impotence, powerlessness, and unfulfilled dreams are the feelings so many of us experience today. The message that any one of us could become one of the characters onstage is unsettling but truer than we might want to believe.

This is an unusual musical not just because of its subject matter, but also because of its structure. In many ways, it's more a revue than a traditional musical, a revue of songs and scenes ricocheting back and forth through American history. Some are outrageously funny, some frightening, some deeply moving; like America, Assassins is a melting pot.

Strolling through it all is a Balladeer, the personification of the stories, myths, and songs that we pass down generation to generation. Composer Stephen Sondheim and playwright John Weidman propose that many of these assassins were inspired by the stories of those who went before them. To dramatize this, John Wilkes Booth actually suggests to Zangara in 1933 and Oswald in 1963 that they kill the president. The shooting gallery proprietor who sells guns to the assassins in the opening scene perhaps represents a country where easy access to guns and a too-hyped American Dream makes these nine people see only one alternative to their problems.

Booth and the other assassins sing, “Everybody's got the right to be happy.” They believe that their guaranteed right to the pursuit of happiness also guarantees them the right to attain that happiness – which is something altogether different. When the mythic American Dream eludes them, they feel cheated, ignored, stepped on.

Earl Warren said, “The only thing we learn from history is that we do not learn.” We'd like to think that isn't true. We think that by understanding these nine people, we may be better equipped to help others like them – before they become killers.

So enjoy the show, and when the assassins ask you in the song, “Another National Anthem,” to join them, imagine just for a moment the fame, the attention, the chance to change the world. And then be thankful that the pressures of our modern world haven't pushed you to that extreme. Yet.

Read director Scott Miller's background and analysis essay about Assassins.

REMEMBERING ASSASSINS Anthony Mullins took on the role of John Wilkes Booth in the original New Line production of Assassins. Anthony is a gentleman of English descent and his accent still reflects his heritage, although he was attempting to affect a southern drawl. During early rehearsals, it's important to develop a bond with your cast mates, some commonality that you can share. In the case of the cast of Assassins, the first common thing discovered was a good sense of humor. Anthony was rehearsing a very intense scene in which his vocal tone and pitch were quite fevered. Anthony himself was quite fevered toward the end of the production (but that's another story – he did go on, as he himself was wont to say). In any case the balance of the cast sat in the house watching and listening. Anthony, in an impassioned moment and in his best “southern” accent, exclaimed, “It shahns so braht, yoo got ta shae yo ahss!” There was silence in the house. Then exchanged looks. Then, one of the cast in the house said, “Did he just say ‘it shines so bright you've got to shave your ass?’ ” Everyone exploded in laughter. Later, it was discovered that the line was, “It shines so bright, you've got to shade your eyes.”

-- Leo Schloss, “Proprietor”

One of the more colorful members of the cast was Michelle Laflen. Assassins is a very intense show, and as opening night approached, the cast was concerned about their ability to impart the deep emotional intricacies to the audience. Luckily, Michelle's boyfriend Kenny started coming to rehearsals about a week before the show opened. You see, when you've been through a script fifty times, it's difficult to judge its impact. Having a new person experience the production always brings a fresh perspective. Well, almost always. One night, at the conclusion of the rehearsal and the subsequent (and generally lengthy) notes, I hopped down off the stage and began to look for my things to gather before leaving: car keys, jacket, script. My script was missing. I said, “Hey, does anybody know where my script is?” Michelle responded, “Oh Kenny has it. I think he's in the bathroom.” I said, “He can keep it.” But I digress. As the cast gathered in the green room before the final dress rehearsal, Michelle spoke up: “Hey, everybody. I just wanted to let you know the show is really great. Kenny said so. He's never emotional, but last night he got choked up watching rehearsal.” Oh great. We know we're a success gang – Kenny wept.

-- Leo Schloss, “Proprietor”

During the Copland-esque singing of “Big Bill,” Kevin Collier as Leon Czolgosz waited in line to meet President William McKinley at the Great Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. The line of folks (Leo, Michele, Laura, and that one boy) extended downstage from the invisible President upstage to Czolgosz, who was waiting not to shake the President’s hand, but to assassinate him. Tech week came, and Kevin and the other gun-totin’ assassins were given starter pistols to use. They created a pretty good bang when they went off. For the McKinley assassination, Kevin and his gun were to make it to the head of the line for the climax of the song when Czolgosz, on an abrupt musical caesura, would shoot the President. But it never failed—or rather, it always did. During every dress/tech, Kevin moved to the head of the line, aimed the gun towards the audience (where the invisible McKinley stood), and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The first couple times were funny. But when it happened repeatedly—the gun working perfectly before the rehearsal, then not working at such a crucial moment—well, let’s just say Kevin’s goddammits and other choice expletives became more and more explosive. And from the point of view of the success of the moment in the show, it certainly made all of us nervous. However, most of us stifled peals of laughter when we considered the possibility of rewriting the show—and American history--so that Leon Czolgosz, instead of assassinating William McKinley, just looked at him, real mean-like, and gave him a good cussin’ out.

--Johanna Schloss, “Squeaky”

The first time I directed Assassins was the greatest thrill of my life. It was the first time I had directed a show that was truly a masterpiece, the first time I really submerged myself fully into a show, lived it, slept it, thought about nothing else. We had a very talented cast and it turned out so well. Even my mother, who I expected to hate it, found it compelling and mesmerizing. It was the first step in her conversion to the person who now prefers Floyd Collins and The Cradle Will Rock to Brigadoon and Hello, Dolly. Assassins is the bravest show ever written, a masterpiece of subtlety, of characterization, of confrontation, of psychology, of pure, brazen theatricality. It was terribly disturbing to watch and it unnerved each audience through its stubborn refusal to judge these assassins, to take the easy, safe road. It let each assassin speak for him- or herself. Some of them were clearly crazy, but some of them were clearly not – and that was the most disturbing thing of all. The message of Assassins is that the people who try to kill presidents are more like you and me than we’d like to believe. It’s a message most people don’t want to hear, but it’s one everyone should hear. Ultimately it thrilled audiences every night and was New Line’s first genuine triumph, as if our little company had finally grown to full maturity. It was a turning point for New Line and for me, both artistically and personally. The other reason Assassins was special to me, personally, is that early in the rehearsal process, my position at my “real job” was eliminated and I found myself unemployed for the first time in my life. My search for a new job was admittedly half-hearted because I discovered the incredible joy of dedicating my time fully to a show. No more did my job get in the way. No more did I have to work on the show only after work. Now it was my work. This was when I realized I was meant to be a freelancer. And I haven’t had a traditional desk job since then. One more note. I honestly believe that every high school in America should be forced to produce Assassins every four years. With gun violence in our schools reaching epidemic proportions, we must try to understand why people get angry, why they feel left out by the American Dream, why a gun makes them feel empowered – all issues addressed eloquently and intelligently by Assassins. This is the one show that could start a dialogue that might lead us to some real answers.

-- Scott Miller, director

Breraking Out in Harmony (1994)

a world premiere
Book, Music, and Lyrics by Scott Miller
March 18-26, 1994
New City School Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Tucker Goodman – Kent Hobson
Steven Goodman – Kevin Collier
Anne Goodman – Dena O’Malley
Darcy Bowles – Kat Smith
Sherman Bowles – Michael Shreves
Lydia Bowles – Kim Wolterman
Bash Crockett – Dan Sattel
Trish Young – Amy Jayne
Marge Blodgett – Kinsella Berry
Christy Cable
Whitney Furlow
Curtis Singleton

THE ARTISTIC STAFFDirector – Scott Miller
Production Consultant – Sara Lee Hart
Lighting Designer – Steven P. Dohrmann
Stage Manager – Amy Lanning
Set Coordinator – Kevin Collier
Logo Design – Steve Kutheis

THE BANDPiano – Chris Hegarty
Percussion – Adam Kopff

THE REVIEWS
“There are a lot of truths – and a lot of questions – in Breaking Out in Harmony. . . Miller has dealt with a subject that continues to make news and cause controversy. . . There are many problems in the New Line Theatre production, but the drama has sufficient backbone to stand upright and deliver its message. . . Despite the shortcomings, Miller has written a musical that is ‘about something,’ and about something important too. It’s worth seeing, thinking about, and most important, acting on.” – Joe Pollack, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“Some of Breaking Out’s songs are rousers.” – Harry Weber, The Riverfront Times

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
In this new musical, three members of the school board of the fictional Harmony, Missouri school district break into their high school library after hours and remove eleven “objectionable” books. Their teenage children find out and launch a protest (one of the kids even figures out how to turn the issue into a profit-making venture), and the controversy divides the community. Despite the students' protests, the board votes officially to keep the books off the shelves, so the students go to the local ACLU for help. The actual case on which the show is based, Pico v. Island Trees, went on for seven years and ended up in the U.S. Supreme Court.

But this is not an isolated case. In fact, since Ronald Reagan took office in 1980, censorship cases have been increasing dramatically every year. Parents continue to demand the removal of everything from Dr. Seuss and Stephen King to the Bible. An organization in Washington, D.C. called People for the American Way tracks the hundreds of challenges to materials in schools each year. Nearly half of the challenges are successful.

But our show isn't only about censorship. The other big issue in Breaking Out in Harmony is the question of when a child is old enough to make his own way in the world. The students believe that by age 17 they can make mature decisions for themselves. Yet with the continuing increase of guns and drugs among American teenagers, their parents believe they have good cause to worry about their children and about the many influences on their children's attitudes. Who can honestly say they have nothing to worry about?

Breaking Out in Harmony doesn't try to answer these questions. It merely explores the fears and motivations behind the people on both sides of these very complex issues. In an increasingly dangerous world, parents find it more and more difficult to stop protecting their children. And in the midst of an information explosion, teenagers see so many things they want to explore and discover, and they don't want their parents holding them back. Unfortunately, a case like this one puts the concerns of parents and their children into direct conflict.

The New York Times said about the original case, “The controversy . . . points directly to fundamental questions about the nature of community in modern American society.” One of the judges ruling on the case wrote, “The use of governmental power to condemn a book touches the central nervous system of the first amendment.” And the debate rages on today, over everything from Madonna's book, Sex, to the author of the Winnie-the-Pooh books.

Thank you for joining us tonight for this roller-coaster ride through the American education system, the American family, and the U.S. Constitution. We hope you enjoy yourselves, and we hope you find lots of things to talk about on the drive home.


REMEMBERING BREAKING OUT IN HARMONY
I’ll never forget one performance during Breaking Out in Harmony. One of the leading women was very difficult to work with, and one night, an hour before a performance, she showed up with her parents and demanded free tickets for them. Now, we didn't give actors free tickets for family members. But this actress told me that either I give her free tickets or she’d quit the show right then. (Being a small company, we did not have understudies.) I didn’t see how I could give her tickets without giving all the other actors tickets, which would kill our ticket sales. So I stood my ground and refused. She stormed out of the theatre screaming at me that she quit. The cast went crazy. Would she come back? Was she really quitting? I calmly assured everyone that she would be back, secretly terrified that she would not. Finally, she returned to the dressing room about four minutes before curtain and put on her make-up and costume quickly without saying a word to anyone. She did the show and finished the run, though she never said another word to me. Since that incident, I’ve become very attuned to “attitude,” and if an actor shows even the hint of attitude in auditions, I won’t even consider them. I don’t ever need to go through that again.

– Scott Miller, author and director

Breaking Out in Harmony taught me a really big, important lesson about writing – that conclusions belong in the audience. Good theatre never tells an audience what to think. It presents a story, issues, questions, and then asks the audience to think about it and come up with their own answers and draw their own conclusions. But in Harmony I told the audience exactly what I thought they were supposed to think in the finale, and though the finale was a pretty good song, it sort of emasculated the show. I was starting to feel good about myself as a writer and, without realizing it, I got pretentious and self-righteous. It hurt the show. But I learned my lesson. I hope.

-- Scott Miller, author and director

A Tribute to the Dark Side (1993)

a world premiere revue featuring songs from Little Shop of Horrors, Grand Hotel, City of Angels, Guys and Dolls, Grease, Sweet Charity, Mack and Mabel, Chicago, Working, Show Boat, Dreamgirls, Company, Jesus Christ Superstar, Promises Promises, Les Misérables, Miss Saigon, and other shows
Conceived by Scott Miller
October 15-23, 1993
New City School Theatre, St. Louis

THE CAST
Beth Boschert-Duello, Kevin Collier, Michelle Collier, Tracy Collins, Rose Marie Fischer, Holly Gulick, Lisa Karpowicz, Tim Kent, Judy Kreisman, Mike Monsey, Keith Price, Dan Sattel, Johanna Schloss, Quenten Schumacher II, Darin Wood, and Paul Schankman as the Emcee

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller and Steve Kutheis
Music Director – Scott Miller
Technical Director and Lighting Designer – Steve Dohrmann
Costume Coordinator – Tim Kent
Stage Manager – Amy Lanning
Promotions Manager – Keith Price
Advertising Manager – Kevin Collier
Poster/Program Cover Design – Tracy Collins
Interior Program Design – Ron Crooks

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Keyboards – Chris Hegarty
Guitar/Bass – Kurt Eichholz

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
The history of the Dark Side in the musical theatre is a long one. Our survey tonight goes back as far as 1925's No! No! Nanette!, which was only dark in the most innocent way – supposed adultery that was (of course) just a misunderstanding. The first true musical tragedy was 1927's Show Boat, which presented real people in difficult real life situations – racism, marriage to an alcoholic and compulsive gambler, single parenting – but Show Boat turned out to be a fluke, and it wasn't until 1943's Oklahoma! that a new trend really began.

Then in the 1950s, director/choreographer Bob Fosse arrived, the Grand Master of Dark, and creator of many dark works, including Sweet Charity, Chicago, Pippin, and the movies Cabaret and All That Jazz. Never before or since has a director been so obsessed with the Dark Side. It became his trademark. And Stephen Sondheim, more concerned with constantly trying new things than with being consciously “dark,” forged a parallel path through the years with shows like West Side Story, Gypsy, Sweeney Todd, Company, Into the Woods, and Assassins. Many of his musicals explored society's ills – gang war, the disintegration of marriage, oppression of the working class, etc.

In 1968, amidst anti-war protests and demonstrations in Washington, Hair, the first rock musical, hit Broadway with all the anger, resentment, and disillusionment of the generation of which it was born. It was perhaps the angriest musical ever on Broadway, and its words and music heralded a new age – the age of the realistic and “relevant” musical, which in today's society also meant “Dark.” Soon, other rock musicals followed with equally unpleasant themes, including Pippin, The Rocky Horror Show, Dreamgirls, Little Shop of Horrors, and others.

In the late 1980s, the “Pop Opera” came into its own – stories told in the structure and epic proportions of grand opera and in the vocabulary of popular music, owing their genesis to the rock operas of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, including Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita. These shows, Les Misérables, Phantom of the Opera, Miss Saigon, and others, with their tragic plots and characters, were the inevitable union of classical opera and the Broadway musical.

It has been fascinating for us during the creation of this show to see how different writers approach that side of us we try to suppress, some using comedy and others tragedy to explore that twilight zone of the human psyche where revenge is just and murder is justified. It gives us a deeper understanding of the human condition and of that uniquely American art form, musical theatre.

That said, we hope you enjoy Dark Side II, dedicated to everyone who loves the musical theatre and, more importantly, to those who think musicals are only silly love songs and sappy happy endings.

Note: If this is Dark Side 2, where’s Dark Side 1? The reason this is Dark Side 2 is that the first Tribute to the Dark Side was done by many of the same people with CenterStage Theatre Company several years earlier.

REMEMBERING DARK SIDE 2

Before each performance began, we were to gradually filter onto the stage and sit at tables, cocktail-style, in the “nightclub,” and create characters who would chat realistically while the acts would go on. Tracy, Beth, and I were assigned to a table. At one of the first rehearsals, one of us – the memory escapes me as to which one – began a conversation about our fictional boss at the department store. The other two joined in, badmouthing this fictional boss. Throughout the rehearsal process and into performances, we kept these department store worker characters, and the improvised chatter grew more and more detailed until we not only knew our own characters, but we had assembled an outside life at this imaginary job which consisted of another twenty or so people with whom we worked. (Most of them were slackers, of course.) I admit there were times that our work stories became so involved and entertaining that we were slightly disappointed when the songs, the real focus of Dark Side II, began. During the show, the cast members all took turns performing songs and placing ourselves as the clientele in this nightclub. After one particular number, Quentin and I were dressed up and were to filter to the tables while Kevin sang “Wanting Things.” Each night during this song, Quentin and I created a background tableau. We'd notice each other, make brief eye contact, then make prolonged eye contact, then offer a smile. This little affair built throughout the song, with Quentin making suggestive winks and I dabbing the glow of perspiration from my throat. When the song ended, neither had made a move from our chairs, and I'd leave, with only a backward glance shared to tell what might have been.

– Johanna Schloss, cast member

I always felt really terrible for Michelle Collier when she had to choreograph me. I am the type of actor whose body refuses to cooperate with me when it comes to learning dance moves. This was no exception in Dark Side 2. Kevin, Keith, Tracy and I were to perform a Motown-esque song called “Steppin' to the Bad Side” from Dreamgirls. Kevin and Keith had rhythm and picked up on the moves pretty readily. Tracy and I, on the other hand, weren't so fortunate. I must say, however, “Steppin' to the Bad Side” turned out to be very cool and a big part of its success was due to the amount of time Michelle spent with us. I appreciate all she did and if you're reading this, Michelle, thank you for not letting me look like a complete idiot!

– Dan Sattel, cast member

Though it was unconscious on my part, I think this show kind of announced to the world what kind of company New Line was going to be, that we were going to be doing musical theatre about sex and drugs and death and every potentially offensive topic ever to headline a newspaper. I was determined to make “Big Spender” true to Bob Fosse’s original intentions, to be about carnality, not sexiness, to be lustful and hard and disturbing. I wanted people to sit up and listen, to pay attention like they didn’t usually pay attention when they went to a musical. I wanted to say to them, “musicals are not always what you think they are” and prove to them that musical theatre was just as substantial, just as serious, just as powerful, just as muscular as theatre that lacks music. This was just a few months before we would tackle Sondheim’s Assassins and change New Line and St. Louis musical theatre audiences forever.

--Scott Miller, director

A Tribute to Stephen Sondheim (1993)

a world premiere revue featuring songs from West Side Story, Gypsy, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Evening Primrose, Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, The Frogs, Sweeney Todd, Merrily We Roll Along, Into the Woods, Sunday in the Park with George, and Assassins
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Conceived and Researched by Scott Miller
March 19-27, 1993
Center of Contemporary Arts, St. Louis

THE CAST
Winona Black, Beth Boschert-Duello, Kevin Collier, Michelle Collier, Tracy Collins, Rose Marie Fischer, Alison Goldstein, Joel Hackbarth, Tim Kent, Steve Kutheis, Tracy Paul Muchesko, Keith Price, John T. Ricroft, Jeremy Sher, Renée Trudell

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Director – Scott Miller
Assistant Director – Dan Guller
Additional Staging – Tim Kent
Production Consultant – Sara Lee Hart
Instrumental Music Director – Kurt Eichholz
Set Designer – John T. Ricroft
Lighting Designer – Steve Dohrmann
Costumer Coordinator – Tim Kent
Stage Manager – Amy Lanning
Business Manager – Holli Folk

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Keyboards – Chris Hegarty
Bass – Kurt Eichholz
Percussion – Adam Kopff

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
“Of all the artists who have tried to transform the Broadway musical since Oklahoma!, no one has been more persistent than the composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim.” (Frank Rich, New York Times). Few of his shows have been hits. Many have been controversial in one way or another. All of them have been interesting.

It's difficult to put together a sampling of his work for two reasons. First, there's an almost endless supply of interesting material to choose from. Second, it's hard to take his songs out of their original contexts. To merely sing his songs makes it hard to see how masterfully he weaves characterization and plot throughout his songs. For instance, “Send in the Clowns” is a beautiful song, in or out of its show. But when you know the singer is a fading actress, the show business metaphors take on new meaning. When you know the man she's singing to once wanted to marry her, but she wasn't ready, it's even more ironic that now when she's finally ready, he's found someone else. When you know the background, it hurts more when she sings:

Just when I'd stopped opening doors,
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again with my usual flair,
Sure of my lines, no one is there.

“Pretty Women” becomes more than just a pretty song when you know that Sweeney Todd is shaving the corrupt Judge Turpin, waiting for the perfect moment to slit his throat. “It's Hot Up Here” is so much funnier when you know the singers are figures in a painting, doomed to spend all eternity in the same pose in the same spot with the same people. “I Remember” becomes much more touching when you know the girl singing it has lived her life in a department store, and can only barely remember the last time she saw the sky.

We realized as we rehearsed the show that we would be demanding a lot from our audiences with this material, that they wouldn't be able to just sit back and listen. These songs demand as much from the audience as from the performers. Sondheim proves with every project that the musical theatre doesn't have to be a place where you turn off your brain; it can be a place for high drama, dark comedy, social commentary, and thoughtful looks at the human condition.

With this tribute, we present songs that are more truly musical scenes. And so that you can experience the full power of these moments, we present them as they were written to be performed. Stephen Sondheim is a great composer and lyricist, but he is also a great innovator and a great maker of theatre. His work deserves no less.

So prepare yourself for a tour of some of the most important work in the musical theatre in the last thirty-five years, from 1957 and West Side Story through 1991 and the controversial Assassins. As Sondheim wrote for Gypsy: Curtain up, light the lights, We've got nothing to hit but the heights.

REMEMBERING A TRIBUTE TO SONDHEIM

I remember auditioning for New Line’s Tribute to Sondheim back in 1993. I was nervous, and Scott was accompanying me on “Maria” from West Side Story. I can’t remember who else was in there, but I kept thinking to myself, “You’re an actor, not a singer, dummy, what are you doing this fo—” and that was my cue. What did I know? I’d listened to the music and practiced it a hundred times, but I had no idea what they were expecting. I don’t know what I was thinking, but the first million and a half bars of the song were, as I remembered them from recordings, echoey and somewhat off in the distance, like voices floating around. “The most beautiful sound I ever heard…Maria (Maria, Maria, Maria...).” I thought, “Well, that part of the song must come from someone else, so I’ll just breeze past that part in the audition and get to the good stuff.” I mumbled those words, on key, mind you, but I mumbled them nonetheless. I thought Scott would just say OK and jump to the good stuff, but NO, he stayed true to the music, so I mumbled on, until he asked me what I was doing. Uh, singing the song, dummy, I wanted to say. But that would’ve hurt my chances, so I just started singing the lyrics the way they were intended to be sung. I got a part (not that part), and took the graciousness and gentleness of those auditioners with me on the next million and a half auditions, and I remember them all.

– Jeremy Sher

Stephen Sondheim was becoming an important part of New Line Theatre at this time. A few months before this Tribute, we’d held a celebrity auction and received autographed items from Julie Andrews, Jerry Herman, Hal Prince, Gwen Verdon, Elaine Strich, Raul Julia, Jim Lapine, Harnick and Bock, Kander and Ebb, Marvin Hamlisch, and many other Broadway stars. Stephen Sondheim sent us an autographed copy of the private, never released cast album (on LP) of his 1966 television musical Evening Primrose. And I was presumptuous enough, when I wrote to thank him, to also ask him for a cash donation. He sent one. I then thanked him for that and asked if he would be an honorary member of our board. He wrote back and said he would be delighted. Doing this concert of his songs was very special for me because of how incredibly kind he had been to this new, small company way out in St. Louis. And it became a kind of prologue to New Line’s first ten years, as we would go on to produce his shows Assassins (twice), Company, Sweeney Todd, Passion, Into the Woods, Anyone Can Whistle, and another Sondheim concert, Extreme Sondheim. In addition, when we put Out on Broadway together several years later, about a third of the show was Sondheim’s songs. He has had more of an impact on New Line than any other theatre artist, and we couldn’t be prouder to count him among our supporters.

– Scott Miller, director

Smokin' Santa (1992)

a world premiere revue
Conceived by Scott Miller
December 3-4, 1992
Center of Contemporary Arts, St. Louis

THE CAST
Ellen Buck, Kevin Collier, Michelle Collier, Holli Folk, Holly Gulick, Chris Johnson, Steve Kutheis, Eric Pendleton, Keith Price, Dan Sattel, Deborah Sharn, Jeremy Sher, Linda Smith

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Director/Pianist – Scott Miller
Lighting Designer – Steve Dohrmann

REMEMBERING SMOKIN’ SANTA

I’m a Jew in a Christmas concert. Sure I’ve heard these songs before, but never the words. Not really. Caroling to me was dancing around the house like Mrs. Brady, and we didn’t do that very often either. So I decided to open my mind and heart and just listen to the spirit of the music. That’s when I heard Holli singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” onstage. I was in the back of the house lacing up my Chuck Taylors when the sound hit me. A deep, velveteen alto with all the depth of an ocean. And the sentiment, not just the words, hit me in one vast wave. I started crying like a baby, uncontrollably like when cutting onions, and I heard the song. I really heard it. It’s a beautiful song. And Holli’s a beautiful woman. Wow, what a voice.

– Jeremy Sher

Smokin’ Santa was an interesting experiment, our first foray into cabaret style theatre. It was an eclectic… no, let’s be honest, a bizarre mix of traditional carols and pop songs, novelty numbers, parodies, and classical pieces, everything from “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” to the eleventh movement of Bach’s Magnificat in D Major (performed with a swing beat and sunglasses), to a parody number called “The Song About Hanukkah” written by my friend Dan Guller to the tune of “America” from West Side Story. The show also included one song I wrote called “The Christmas Tree Fell Over and Our House is Burning Down.” But despite the generous amount of silliness, it was also a very personal show for me. In high school, we did a vespers concert every year at Christmas, put together by the greatest choral teacher I’ve ever encountered, Jim Buffalo. Jim retired a couple years after I graduated and the vespers concerts ended. Smokin’ Santa was in part my admittedly odd personal tribute to Jim Buffalo, and I included several pieces from the vespers concerts, including a processional of carols he put together, the comedy song “Fruitcake,” the Bach piece (though with my own twist), a fourteenth-century motet called “In Bethlehem,” and Jim’s own, gorgeous arrangements of “O Holy Night.” I’m not sure it entirely succeeded as a theatre piece, but it meant a lot to me, and it taught me a lot about building revues.

– Scott Miller, director

Attempting the Absurd (1992)

a world premiere
Book, Music, and Lyrics by Scott Miller
July 17-18, 1992
Center of Contemporary Arts, St. Louis

THE CAST
Darcy Bowles – Jenni Ryan
Jason Christopher – Dan Guller
Mrs. Christopher – Rose Marie Nester
Chaz Williams – Kevin Collier
Danny Hooper – Charlie Robin
Alex Throttlebottom – Dan Sattel
Mary – Mara Hesed
Val – Catherine Edwards
Audrey – Amy Willard
The Playwright – Joel Hackbarth
Floyd the Cop – Peter Wilson
The Judge – Joel Hackbarth
Alison Goldstein
Amy McInerney
Susan Schloss
Emily Shavers

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller and Steve Kutheis
Music director – Scott Miller
Orchestrations and Conductor– John Gerdes
Set Designer – Steve Kutheis
Lighting Designer – Brian Joyal
Set Coordinator – Kevin Collier
Business Manager – Holli Folk

THE REVIEWS

“Miller has a nice sense of the ridiculous. He also shows a good feeling for whimsy and, most important, he has a deep and abiding love for classic American musicals. I liked the show better than I thought I would; it’s collegiate, sometimes sophomoric, but there are moments of great charm.” – Joe Pollack, St. Louis Post Dispatch

“About as good an evening of first-view musical comedy as I’ve seen for a while. . . Miller’s book, music, and lyrics range widely, intelligently, unsentimentally, and wittily over familiar and unfamiliar territory.” – Harry Weber, The Riverfront Times

REMEMBERING ATTEMPTING THE ABSURD

My first experience with New Line was working on Attempting the Absurd in the summer of 1992. Absurd is a quirky little musical about a guy who knows he’s only a character in a musical (‘I have only a sketchy memory of my past, I feel like everything I do is controlled by someone, somewhere behind a word processor, and I never go to the bathroom.’). I loved playing Jason. He was equally at home in his fictional world as in the real one. He moved through life knowing that someone else was pulling the strings. He was a paradox wrapped in a contradiction wrapped in a bright red shirt.

One of the toughest parts of the show for me came in the second act with a song called “Old Time Musicals.” Scott, obviously in the throes of sophisticated artistry, started the song with Jason rattling off a list of about eighteen different musicals. Being the professional that I am, I expressed my concern about such a lyrical challenge: “Scott, I will never, ever, ever be able to memorize this crap!”

“Dan,” said Scott with the certainty of one who would bet the life of his pet orangutan that he was right, “It’s a list song. It’ll take you a little longer to learn, but you’ll remember it forever.”

“Right,” I countered, secretly sure that nobody had ever been more wrong than Scott Miller was at this very moment. So I worked on that masochistic list and, lo and behold, one day I noticed I was able to recite it without the script. Not only was the show as much fun for the audience as it was for the performers, but I didn’t flub a single show from that list.

Well, here it is, almost ten years later, and guess what? “Oklahoma, The Sound of Music, 42nd Street, South Pacific…” Damn it. Scott was right. Good news for the orangutan. Happy Tenth, New Line!

– Dan Guller, “Jason”

It is the peculiar curse of the American Musical Theatre that it is never realistic. No matter how gritty and real Tony & Maria's Spanish Harlem or Tevye's Anatevka might be, it will never be realistic for them to break from spoken word into song. Bob Fosse solved this problem with the film version of Cabaret by using only the songs performed onstage at the Kit Kat Klub. But by eliminating the other songs, the show really stopped being a musical in the strictest sense. This problem was a constant topic of discussion among the musical theatre crowd at college. There must be a way, we decided, to get around it. And then, senior year, it struck me – if the characters know they're in a musical, then their singing is realistically motivated. They sing because they are characters in a musical. Of course, this then presented lots of new logistical and philosophical problems, problems my roommate David Flores and I argued over for the entire school year. After graduation I set to work, and six years later, my aptly named Attempting the Absurd became a reality, and fittingly, as the second show of my new musical theatre company. Because it’s so much about musical theatre – a parody, a deconstruction, a loving tribute – and because, in an odd way, it’s the ultimate musical comedy, it will always be my favorite of the ten shows I’ve written. It’s not my most sophisticated score or my most artfully built script, but it’s awfully funny and it still makes me giggle. What more can I ask?

– Scott Miller, author, composer, director

A Tribute to the Rock Musicals (1992)

a world premiere revue featuring songs from Hair, Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar, Grease, Pippin, The Wiz, The Rocky Horror Show, Working, Evita, Dreamgirls, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Little Shop of Horrors, Cats, Chess, Miss Saigon, and other shows, conceived and Researched by Scott Miller
April 10-18, 1992
Center of Contemporary Arts, St. Louis

THE CAST
Vincent Paul Boyle, Ellen Buck, Kevin Collier, Michelle Collier, Holli Folk, Michael Kaiser, Steve Kutheis, Loren Madden, Brendan O’Malley, Eric Pendleton, Ray Proctor, Patrick Ryan, Daniel Sattel, Deborah Sharn, Linda Walsh, Keve Wilson,
and John Gerdes as “The Professor”

THE ARTISTIC STAFF
Directors – Scott Miller, Steve Kutheis
Music Director – Scott Miller
Additional Staging – Michelle Collier, Vincent Paul Boyle
Production Consultant – Sara Lee Hart
Technical Director – Amy Lanning
Sound – Greg Rosebrock
Set Painting – Amy Lanning
Set Coordination – Kevin Collier
Business Manager – Holli Folk

THE BAND
Piano – Scott Miller
Keyboard – Claudia Baskind
Lead Guitar – Jim Folk
Electric Guitar – Brendan O’Malley
Rhythm Guitar – Joe Hermann
Bass – Mike Monsey
Saxophone/Flute – Kelly Rogers
Percussion – Adam Kopff

DIRECTOR’S NOTES
Opera had supplied the world with popular music since the early 1700s. For two centuries, as late as the premiere of Puccini's Madama Butterfly in 1906, many of the tunes people hummed on the streets of Europe and America were from operas. But in America during the first decade of this century, the public's taste for popular music turned to the operettas of Sigmund Romberg, Rudolf Friml, Victor Herbert, and Gilbert & Sullivan.

Then the First World War suddenly turned public sentiment in this country against all things Germanic, including the operetta. America became tremendously isolationist, and for the first time, the “young Americans” took over the musical theatre – Cole Porter, George M. Cohan, Irving Berlin, the Gershwins, and a little later, Rodgers & Hart. The war gave them a chance they might never have gotten otherwise to have their shows produced, shows that were decidedly American in content, character, and pacing. By the end of the war, American popular music was coming largely from musical comedy. And the sounds of jazz were a big part it, thanks primarily to George Gershwin.

But the musical theatre had grown away from the well-written, integrated book. The scripts written for musicals during the teens and twenties were little more than glorified vaudeville sketches. In 1943, that trend was reversed with Oklahoma!. And with that reversal, the music of the stage also reversed and headed back toward a more serious and somewhat “classical” style, instead of continuing in the same direction as pop music – the sounds of jazz and the Big Bands.

By the early 1950s popular music and stage music had split. And rock and roll (which had evolved from jazz) took over popular music. Some of the “young Americans” from the 1920s and ’30s were still writing theatre scores, but were no longer the ones writing songs for the radio. The people who were writing for the stage didn't know rock and roll, and the new “young Americans” who were writing rock and roll songs didn't know stage music.

It wasn't until 1968 and the Broadway opening of Hair that theatre writers were brave enough to use rock and roll in a musical. And rock musicals grew more numerous and more sophisticated during the 1970s, including a few attempts at Rock Opera (Jesus Christ Superstar, Tommy), which worked artistically but didn't take hold because adults, who were the majority of theatre-goers, still didn't like rock music. The albums sold well, however, to the much younger record-buying public.

The mid-1970s was an exciting and experimental time for the rock musical. This decade turned out some remarkably successful shows, including Grease, the longest-running show in Broadway history until that time; The Wiz, a big step in the progress of the Black musical theatre; The Rocky Horror Show, a flop at first but a major cult classic soon after; and A Chorus Line, one of the most important and groundbreaking works of the musical theatre, and also the longest-running Broadway show in history. In fact, five of the ten longest running Broadway shows are now rock musicals. By this time, the teenagers of the 1950s and 60s had become adults, for whom the radio industry had created “adult rock” stations. And these new adult theatre-goers enjoyed theatre scores written in the style of rock and soft rock, the music they had grown up on.

The early 1980s saw great innovation. Dreamgirls employed almost continuous music for an entire show, very much in the tradition of melodrama and opera, and pioneered the use of cinematic scene changes – dissolves, fades, close-ups, etc. – a device used most recently by City of Angels. Cats carried the notion of the plotless, non-linear concept musical to the extreme and the gamble paid off. And by the end of the decade, a new form had appeared on Broadway, by way of London and Paris – the Pop Opera.

By the late 1980s and early 1990s, pop opera took hold in shows such as Les Misérables, Chess, and Miss Saigon. Pop opera used the structure of classical opera and the musical vocabulary of current popular music. It was the first time in almost a century that operas were being written in contemporary popular style, and it revitalized a stagnating musical theatre. For the first time since the rock operas of two decades earlier, songs from the stage were regularly crossing over to the radio and being recorded by pop singers, just as the show tunes of the Twenties and Thirties had.

The American musical comedy is still young as art forms go, less than one hundred years old (not counting its various precursors). And its first generation of creators have only recently died and left the field open to new voices, voices raised on the sounds of rock and roll. The musical theatre had begun to wither because it was so hard for new voices to be heard. But now that the old voices have gone, perhaps the musical theatre will return to the legacy from which it came – speaking to its audience through the sounds of today, uniquely contemporary, uniquely brash, uniquely American.

Note: How can this be A Tribute to the Rock Musicals 2, if it is New Line’s first show? The reason this is number two is that the first Tribute to the Rock Musicals was done by many of the same people with CenterStage Theatre Company several years earlier.

THE REVIEW

“…the impressively – sometimes overwhelmingly – enthusiastic, talented, skilled, and well-trained cast and band made A Tribute to the Rock Musicals 2 … a high-energy, highly entertaining evening.” – Bob Wilcox, The Riverfront Times

REMEMBERING ROCK TRIB 2

I was 18 years old when I first encountered New Line Theatre and Scott Miller. My only theatrical experience up until then had been a production of Guys and Dolls at St. Louis University High School and a production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the Muny – both of which were chorus roles. I was a rock musician that had sung in bands since my younger years and was in love with Superstar for the incredible rock score. It blew me away.

One day I saw an advertisement for auditions of New Line’s Tribute to the Rock Musicals 2 and the Superstar logo jumped out at me. I ran home, put on my Superstar CD and searched for an audition piece. I decided on “Everything’s Alright.” I wanted to sing the part of Jesus.

Not having had much auditioning experience, I was very nervous when I arrived. It must have taken me half an hour to fill out the audition sheet. I sat there, afraid that I was going to humiliate myself, and almost wimped out several times. I somehow managed to muster up the courage to stay until my name was mispronounced and fumbled into the audition room.

When I walked in, there were two women and a guy, Scott, sitting behind a piano smiling. All were very friendly, but I was still nervous as hell. Scott began to play some ascending scales and asked me to sing along to get an idea of my range. Well, I totally choked. I couldn’t find a pitch to save my life. Scott stopped and told me to relax. We started over and it was a little better, but certainly nothing I was proud of.

I prayed that he would at least let me sing my prepared piece so there might be some semblance of redemption for the audition. Luckily, he did and it went very well. He had me sing the Judas part as well as the Jesus part and kept mentioning to the other two women that we had found the guy that could sing “Pity the Child.” I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but it sure sounded promising. I left the audition feeling like I had accomplished something, although I didn’t quite know what.

About a week later, I received a letter in the mail congratulating me and welcoming me to the cast of Tribute to the Rock Musicals 2. I was ecstatic! I was completely enthused until I looked at the enclosed song list. Scott didn’t cast me to sing the one song they were doing from Jesus Christ Superstar —”Everything’s Alright.” Being as that was the sole reason I auditioned, I was pissed. I contemplated not doing the show, but as corny as this may sound, something told me to stick with it. I decided to try something new and just give it a shot.

That was one of the greatest decisions I’ve ever made in my life. Little did I know at the time, but I was about to embark on an eye-opening journey that would educate me, entertain me, and reveal an inner passion that even further enhanced anything I had experienced with music alone. Rock Trib was a revue that was designed to teach the audience about rock music and its evolution on the stage. It definitely accomplished that goal, but it also ROCKED! It was that combination of knowledge and entertainment that made me fall in love with New Line.

Since then, I have been a part of many, many New Line shows and have worked with some utterly amazing casts. I would like to thank Scott Miller from the bottom of my heart for his incredible vision and the countless bits of information and advice that he has shared with me over the years. I treasure every moment I’ve had with New Line.

– Dan Sattel

Looking back, Rock Trib 2 was almost insanely ambitious, assembling in one evening some of the biggest show stoppers from rock and pop musicals of the last twenty-five years – and as New Line’s very first show! The most ambitious – foolish? – part was including the Montage (“Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen”) from A Chorus Line, a seventeen-minute musical sequence that included some very difficult solo work and some ridiculously difficult ensemble work. But this was the most talented cast I had worked with up until this time, and I think by sheer force of will we pulled it off. We recreated one of the most amazing, most emotional, most exciting musical sequences in the history of musical theatre, and it worked. It was exciting as hell. I’ll never forget the first performance. When we finished the number, and the actors slowly melted back into that famous silhouette on that famous line, as the band hit that final musical button, the audience went wild. Cheering, screaming, whooping. It was a portent of things to come for New Line – repeatedly jumping off metaphorical cliffs into the waiting arms of enthusiastic, adventurous audiences. I carry that moment with me forever, every time I wonder if we can pull off my latest folly, every time we start rehearsals for a Sweeney Todd or a Passion or a Floyd Collins and I think, “How on earth can we do this?” The answer is that I don’t know how, but I know we will.

– Scott Miller