Tag: musical

Q is for quixotic quest

The Impossible Dream was written for the 1965 musical Man of La Mancha. It is the main song from the musical and became its most popular hit.

I love the fact that many words we use every day come from literature. The notion of quixotism “appeared after the publication of El ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha in 1605. Don Quixote, the hero of this novel, written by the Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, dreams up a romantic ideal world which he believes to be real, and acts on this idealism…”

Merriam-Webster’s first definition of quixotic is “foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals.” I happen to like the notion of tilting at windmills; some of the greatest successes of social justice seemed impossible to achieve.

Speaking of impossible, “The Impossible Dream (The Quest)” is a popular song composed by Mitch Leigh, with lyrics written by Joe Darion. “It was written for the 1965 musical Man of La Mancha. It is the main song from the musical and became its most popular hit.

“The song is sung all the way through once in the musical by Don Quixote as he stands vigil over his armor, in response to Aldonza (Dulcinea)’s question about what he means by ‘following the quest’. It is reprised partially three more times—the last by prisoners in a dungeon as Miguel de Cervantes and his manservant mount the drawbridge-like prison staircase to face trial by the Spanish Inquisition.”

It seemed to have been sung by most of the “grownup” singers of the day. Possibly most notably, on an episode of the sitcom Gomer Pyle, USMC, entitled “The Show Must Go On,” which aired November 3, 1967, watch Marine PFC Pyle (Jim Nabors) transforms from the high-pitched former auto mechanic from Mayberry, NC to a confident, rich baritone.

See also a scene from the movie Man of La Mancha (1972, directed by Arthur Hiller), with Peter O’Toole singing to Sophia Loren.
***
Do you know what would make a great SCRABBLE word? – quixotry.

ABC Wednesday – Round 12

Prince of Egypt at First Presbyterian on Sunday

It’s so odd that Brian Stokes Mitchell started out playing the minor character Jackpot on the television show Trapper John, MD for seven years.

The youth at my church, First Presbyterian in Albany, are putting on, with the assistance of a number of adults, a production of The Prince of Egypt, the musical based on the 1998 animated film. The storyline is adapted from the Moses story in the biblical Book of Exodus. It will take place this Sunday, March 17 at 12:15 pm

In a decision beyond my understanding, I, who am a bit older than 18, have been asked to perform the song Through Heaven’s Eyes, which my character, Jethro, passes along his staff to Moses. Initially, I was reluctant for a few reasons. One is that it was moderately high in my range and modulates even higher. Another reason is that it’s sung in the movie by Brian Stokes Mitchell, only the greatest male singer who regularly performs on Broadway. It’s so odd that he started out playing, as Brian Mitchell, the minor character Jackpot on the television show Trapper John, MD for seven years.

The song also has a lot of tricky lyrics. Thrice it goes “So how can you” or So how do you”, and I had to note that the verbs that follow are in backward alphabetical order – see, measure, judge – which has helped propel the rest of the phrases. Other lines are difficult to spit out clearly in some sections, such as “cool fresh spring”; lots of consonants.

I thought about it quite a bit. But when the director wanted to know whether or not I would participate, I became tired of my own indecision, so I just said yes, masochist that I am.

Meanwhile, listen to the far superior Mitchell version HERE or HERE.

Oddly, this is NOT the first time I ended up singing a Stephen Schwartz song I thought was high in my range. I was in a production of Godspell in New Paltz, NY in 1975 or 1976. Initially, I was given We Beseech Thee to sing, well within my range. Later, though, the director gave me All Good Gifts instead, which was not.

Wicked, the book versus Wicked, the musical

What I’ve discovered in my circle is that people who read the book first, prefer the book.

Reprinted from my Times Union blog.

My wife and I went to see the musical Wicked at the Thursday afternoon matinee on November 8, right after it opened, at Proctors Theatre in Schenectady. We had not seen it before in any iteration, not at Proctors a couple of years before, or on Broadway. I wasn’t particularly familiar with the music, aside from Defying Gravity.

All in all, it was WONDERFUL. The performers were great, and the element that really impressed me was lighting. Michael Eck’s review is about right, though I obviously can’t speak to how much it may become dated.

My wife met me at the theater. She was driving from work with little time to spare, so I took the bus – the 905, for you locals – to Schenectady. I had left the book I had been reading, an autobiography of Walter Cronkite, at work, and I needed a distraction. I grabbed my copy of Wicked, the book written by Gregory Maguire. In fact, it was a copy signed by the author, to me, which I purchased from him at a Friends of the Albany Public Library event in April 2006.

I got about an eighth of the way through the book, and then I saw the musical, then I finished the book. Probably not recommended. These are very different animals. Wicked the book is grimmer, grimier, more sexually explicit, more about political intrigue and musings about religion.

I’m not talking about minor differences of interpretation. The musical’s book by Winnie Holzman resembles the book by Maguire in only minor ways. Elphaba, who Jaquandor describes here, is green; she has a distant father, a deceased mother, a sister Nessarose with cool shoes, and a secret romance. Almost everything else you THINK you know from one source will be negated by the other source. Characters are merged, characters who die in the book are pivotal in the music, relations are changed, and a whole lot of characters in the book never make it to the stage at all. Religion and politics, and what’s going on with the Animals, are central to the book, more peripheral to the musical.

For a spoiler-free analysis, go HERE. If you want analysis with specified spoiler alerts, look HERE. And if you like spoilers galore, go HERE.

What I’ve discovered in my circle is that people who read the book first, prefer the book. People who saw the musical first either really dislike the book, or can’t get through it. In fact, one said, the best thing, or even the only good thing, about the book is that it generated the musical. There’s a level of violence and sex in the Maguire book some found disturbing. For me, the extra characters left me a bit confused, and honestly, a tad bored in the middle – where is this GOING? – though it mostly made sense at the end.

There is a “reader’s group guide” at the back of the book. Question 1 notes that “Wicked derives some of its power from the popularity of the source material. Does meeting up with familiar characters and famous fictional situations require more patience and effort on the part of the reader or less?” I say “yes”, both. In particular, the musical is even more beholden to the classic film than the book.

I’m curious what others who both read the book and saw the musical think about each. In particular, I wonder if the order they experienced the media matters.

R for A Raisin in the Sun

I sensed that my father really related to Walter Lee, frustrated by living in a house owned by his mother-in-law for the first two decades of his marriage to my mother, always looking for the big score.

 

A Raisin in the Sun is a play by Lorraine Hansberry that debuted on Broadway in 1959, which portrays a few weeks in the life of the Youngers, an African-American family living in Chicago’s Southside sometime between World War II and the 1950s…the Youngers are about to receive…$10,000 from the deceased Mr. Younger’s life insurance policy… The matriarch of the family, Lena, wants to buy a house to fulfill a dream she shared with her husband. Her son, Walter Lee, would rather use the money to invest in a liquor store with his friends. He believes that the investment will solve the family’s financial problems forever. Walter’s wife Ruth agrees with Mama, however, and hopes that she and Walter can provide more space and opportunity for their son, Travis…”

The play was nominated for four Tony awards in 1960, though winning none: Sidney Poitier (as Walter Lee), Claudia McNeil (as his mother), plus Lloyd Richards (for director), and for best play.

“In 1961, a film version of A Raisin in the Sun was released featuring its original Broadway cast of Sidney Poitier, Ruby Dee, Claudia McNeil, Diana Sands, Ivan Dixon, Louis Gossett, Jr., and John Fiedler. Hansberry wrote the screenplay, and the film was directed by Daniel Petrie.” I saw this film more than once on TV.

Later that decade, there was a civic theater group that did at least one production of the play in Binghamton, NY. My father was very involved in this. Not as a performer, for he never wanted to act in another person’s role. But he did set design and a lot of technical stuff.

Considering my distance from New York City, I have seen relatively few Broadway musicals. One I DID see in 1973 or 1974, though, was Raisin, “based on the play, and starring Joe Morton (Walter Lee), Virginia Capers (Lena), Ernestine Jackson (Ruth), Debbie Allen (Beneatha), and Ralph Carter (Travis). The show won the Tony Award for Best Musical.”

I have only a vague recollection of the 1989 TV film with Danny Glover (Walter Lee), Starletta DuPois (Ruth), Esther Rolle (Lena), and Kim Yancey (Beneatha).

Never saw the 2004 Tony-nominated play revival with Sean Combs as Walter Lee, Audra McDonald as Ruth (Tony winner for best actress in a featured role), Phylicia Rashad as Lena (won a Tony as best actress), and Sanaa Lathan as sister Beneatha (nominated in McDonald’s category). I did see the 2008 TV movie based on it, however, with the same core cast.

I wonder why I’ve been always drawn to the story. Maybe it’s idle speculation, but I sensed that my father really related to Walter Lee, frustrated by living in a house owned by his mother-in-law for the first two decades of his marriage to my mother, always looking for the big score.

The title of the play came from a poem, A Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

ABC Wednesday – Round 10

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial