Bring On The Girls!

One of the most remarkable theatrical memoirs ever written is by the musical book and lyrics collaborators P.G. Wodehouse and Guy Bolton, looking back at their wild and fruitful careers together and apart in both London and New York in the first three decades of the 20th century. It was published in 1953, when most of the theatrical managers they dealt with, such as Flo Ziegfield, Abe Erlanger and Col. Henry W. Savage, were safely gone from the earth and they could tell outrageously funny insider stories about their greed, cupidity, and general insanity. In fact, it may be the wittiest memoir I have ever read, and the sheer pleasure Bolton and Wodehouse took in each other's sensibilities comes through on every page. Though not available at the San Francisco Public Library (what's wrong with that place?), you can order a used copy on Amazon (click here).



There is a long chapter in the book about the genesis of "Oh, Lady, Lady" that is fascinating. After their first two collaborations, "Oh, Boy!" and "Leave It to Jane," Bolton and Wodehouse were on top of the world, thinking they could do no wrong, which of course is when they turned out three turkeys in a row, "The Rose of China," "The Riviera Girl," and "Miss 1917." Their account of this trio of disasters is hilarious, and by the end of them, the two authors are thinking about going back to architecture and journalism respectively. Out of the blue, however, they were contacted by Ray Comstock, the theatrical manager of the Princess Theatre, who wanted them to try and recreate their "Oh, Boy!" success and out of that process they produced yet another smash with "Oh, Lady, Lady."



It wasn't all smooth sailing, however. At the out-of-town tryout in Wilmington, Delaware, on a Wednesday matinee performance on Christmas Eve, only 36 people showed up in the audience, and they didn't utter a single peep or laugh. Let me quote the rest:

"They were so quiet that halfway through the first act Bolton, forgetting their existence, rose and addressed Harry Brown, who was playing his opening scene with Carroll McComas.

"That's wrong, Harry," he said. "You'll kill the laughs if you keep pointing to the settee. Carroll would be bound to know what you were talking about." His voice trailed off into silence as he became aware of thirty-six blank faces which had turned and were regarding him with astonishment from rows one and two. Plum [Wodehouse] came to the rescue.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "We must apologize. We're down here trying to get this show right for New York, and Mr. Bolton has just spotted something that is wrong. Would you mind if we fixed it?" Some civil person said, "Not at all. Go ahead," and Guy, encouraged, found his voice. "There are so few of you," he said, "and you were keeping so quiet that I had quite forgotten you were there." This got a better laugh than any of the lines in the show, and Guy said, "We're all a little dizzy these days, and I thought we were having a rehearsal. If you don't mind, we'll have one now."

It was one of the most successful rehearsals in the history of the stage. The audience listened with rapt attention as the authors made their corrections. Many of them contributed suggestions. When the performance ended, the cast came down to the footlights and signed the programs that were handed up to them."

Check out the whole book. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Tom Orr's "Venus" Memories

Tom Orr has become a 42nd Street Moon regular in the last two-and-a-half years. He debuted with us in Mack & Mabel, and has appeared in several shows since then. He has contributed his talents to the Gala and behind the scenes as well. Tom just sent me this lovely little remembrance of his experience in One Touch of Venus.

My favorite memories from "One Touch of Venus," as usual when I do a Moon show, all involve watching from the wings. In the typically short rehearsal process, we're often dismissed early if we're not in a given scene and so we don't get to see the process as our fellow castmates work on a dance sequence or finesse a dramatic moment in rehearsal.

Then we get to the Eureka and put the show together
with all the light cues and costumes just in time for
the audiences to come enjoy what we've created. So the
only chance we ever get to see the show is when we're
in the wings waiting for an entrance or during a
costume change. I always make an effort to catch my
colleagues strutting their stuff: e.g. Amy Louise Cole
nailing a zinger with her impeccable timing; or Nina
Josephs standing centerstage and smoldering at the end
of a solo; etc.

In "Venus," my favorite number was in the bus station
scene. I had a couple of quick bits as Taxi Black
before and after "Way Out West In Jersey." Every night
I'd stand offstage left and happily watch Juliet,
Anil, Elise and Jarrod bust out Tom Segal's amazing
jitterbug choreography while Chris Macomber hooted and
hollered as Mrs. Kramer. The dance came out of
nowhere, had nothing to do with the plot, and brought
down the house every time, kicking the energy level up
with the actors and audience. It's that electricity
that makes me love musical theater.

-- Tom Orr, "Taxi Black"

Opening Night for a "Lady"

Office Manager Annette Lai has provided some pictures from the Opening Night reception for Oh, Lady! Lady!! on Nov. 24th. This is most of the company outside the Eureka Theatre.

And here is dynamic director Kalon Thibodeaux with dashingly dapper choreographer Tom Segal

Leading Man Michael Cassidy with some "old-timers."

Costumer Louise Jarmilowicz with Kalon

Annette Lai with "Mr. B. Russel Sprout," Tyler Kent

Remembering Betty Kern Miller

Mike's post about the Kern lawsuit reminded me of Betty Kern Miller -- Jerome Kern's daughter whose relationship with her attorney Andrew Boose is disputed by her daughter. Mrs. Miller was a generous and enthusiastic supporter in the early days of 42nd Street Moon.

I first "met" Betty -- over the phone -- in 1989. I was producing a CD of early Jerome Kern songs called -- what else? -- Early Kern, and I had been planning to use a photo of the great composer as a baby on the album cover, which I thought was a cute idea. I can't remember through whom, but somehow I acquired Betty Kern's phone number and gave her a call at her horse ranch in Kentucky (horses were her big passion).

I explained my idea to her and she promptly told me it sounded kind of stupid to her, and suggested instead that she send me a photo of her father as a young man. That's how I got a previously unpublished photograph of Jerome Kern on my album cover.



In 1993, when Stephanie and I were starting 42nd Street Moon, we very much wanted to present some of the early Kern musicals -- Oh, Lady! Lady!! and Sweet Adeline, specifically. We weren't having much luck getting the rights. I called Betty Kern and she said "Let me make a phone call or two." The next day we found out we were approved, and because she vouched for us, the "vaults were opened," so to speak, and we began to get access to many shows that had been gathering dust on licensing agency shelves.

The last time I spoke to her was probably late 1995 when we were presenting the American premiere of Kern & Hammerstein's London show Three Sisters. She was quite frail at that point, but still feisty (on the phone, at least), and regretted that she would not be able to come out for the show. She died the following spring.

Kern Granddaughter Sues Guide Dogs for the Blind

Matthew Guerrieri is a "composer, pianist, and conductor" who writes an extraordinarily entertaining blog about mostly classical music in Boston, besides writing professional reviews for the local "Boston Globe." A couple of days ago, he wrote about the insane legal wranglings being brought by a few of the legal heirs to Jerome Kern, composer of the currently running 42nd Street Moon show, "Oh, Lady! Lady!!" Click here to check it out. Guerrieri's final thought is worth repeating:

"I will remind everyone that Jerome Kern died in 1945; the fact that people are still hiring attorneys to tangle over his royalties 60-plus years later tells you something about the strange state of our current intellectual property regime. And some of those royalties are apparently earmarked as charitable bequests, as Cummings [one of Kern's granddaughters] is also suing the Guide Dog Foundation for the Blind."