So loyal blog readers will recall that at about this time last year, I posted a blog entry about Young Ensemble auditions for A Christmas Carol.  I wrote about the frequency with which we heard some songs or monologues at auditions, and talked about using the lists as a cultural barometer for the pieces of art that will influence our children as they grow into mature artists.  Here’s this year’s list:

• Sound of Music - 5
• High School Musical - 2
• Annie - 6
• Annie Get Your Gun - 1
• Anne of Green Gables - 3
• Wicked - 6
• Alice in Wonderland - 4
• Monty Python - 1
• Cinderella - 6
• Mary Poppins - 3
• Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star - 3
• Jingle Bells - 1
• Deck the Halls - 1
• Chanukah, oh Chanukah - 1
• Little Mermaid - 4
• Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - 5
• Les Miserables - 1
• Walt Whitman - 2
• Somewhere Over the Rainbow - 4
• Hairspray - 3
• Hair - 1
• Shel Silverstein - 11

Compared to last year’s list, you can start to see some fun trends.  I’ll make sure to post the list next year as well!

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve spent an inconceivable amount of time watching YouTube videos of Broadway powerhouse Christine Ebersole singing songs from her Tony Award-winning performance in the dual roles of “Little” Edie Beale and Edith Bouvier Beal in Grey Gardens. Check out this clip of Ebersole singing “Around the World”—it’s quite possibly my favorite number from the show!

Warning!  This clip is not safe for work—it has naughty words.

But my days of witnessing Ebersole’s prowess only via YouTube are over, and so are yours!  The two-time Tony Award winning actress—she also won in 2001 for her performance in the revival of 42nd Street—is bringing her cabaret act (with pianist Billy Stritch) to McCarter on Friday, October 18th at 10pm.  Get your tickets here.

I’ll be there.  You should be too!

Posted by Patrick McKelvey, Literary Intern at McCarter Theatre.

Normally we don’t post announcements for other programs on this blog, but I got this note recently from Princeton Physics Professor Christopher Herzog that I thought had some really interesting ideas about science and magic (and an upcoming reading of Copenhagen), which I thought were neat and worth sharing.  Anyway, here it is!  Hope you can go to his reading!

Heisenberg, Bohr, and Pauli

I’m a professor in the physics department at Princeton University, and I’ve put together a reading of Michael Frayn’s Tony award winning play, Copenhagen.

The play is a semi-historical retelling of a pivotal meeting between Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg at the start of World War II.  Bohr and Heisenberg were key figures in the development of quantum
mechanics —the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, the Bohr atom.   Deeply concerned about the ethical and moral implications of developing an atomic bomb, Heisenberg sought the advice of his old mentor Bohr.

I’m hoping the event will be a magical experience.

My own love of science began undoubtedly with magic—Tolkien’s unforgettable Gandalf, the magical wardrobe of C.S. Lewis.  Soon though, there were other books, by Niven and Asimov, about faster than light travel and great empires in space.  It was a logical evolution, given Arthur C. Clarke’s remark that, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”  There are many reasons why today I am a scientist, but one is undoubtedly that at some early age I realized with crushing disappointment that I could never be a wizard, at least in this world, but that being a theoretical physicist was the next best thing.

To me, today, magic is the use of language and special objects to work powerful and mysterious effects. Tolkien’s ring of power is certainly magical, though made up.  Quantum mechanics, on the other hand, is real, and those who understand its language have created lasers, computers, and atomic weapons.  A good production of a well written play is magic too, creating or recreating a world on a stage, in the best instances helping us to know our own hearts a little better.

Hoping you will come on October 6 at 7:30 pm, Taplin Auditorium, and leave with a little bit of quantum mechanics, a little bit of wisdom, and a little bit of magic.  - Christopher Herzog

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre

Intrepid literary manager Carrie Hughes recently sat down with Emily Mann for an interview about our upcoming production of Mrs. Warren’s Profession, which Emily is directing.  Carrie asked Emily a question about her design process with costume designer Jennifer Von Mayrhauser, and I thought the answer was blogworthy, so I’ve excerpted it below.  I love that it shows the factors that go into a design, and what a director and designer might be thinking about at this point, a few months before the first rehearsal.

Carrie:  I know that you haven’t made your final decision about period yet, but you’re having your first round of conversations with your costume designer.  Can you talk a little bit about the issues that you and Jennifer are talking about?

Emily:  We haven’t decided yet if we’re going to put it in the 1890s or 1920s.  You know, it premiered in London in 1925 in twenties dress.  And it premiered here in 1895, in the dress of the day.  There are pros and cons to both.  The basic pro for 1895, besides it being the time when it’s written, is that for women, the cut of clothes accentuates the bosom, and the lines are very sexy.  It’s very glamorous and the hats are fabulous, and the shoulders are fabulous, and you know, all this is great.

But there’s something about the 20s that takes it out of being so far away from us in every day looks.  A lot of twenties dress looks not that different from now. It’s very modern looking and there’s something about it being mothers and daughters sitting around a kitchen table in more modern dress that’s also very appealing.  And, so what do you do with that?  And the underwear is different. In the 1920s you’re not corseted. It’s a big difference in how you hold yourself.  And the corseted look gives you the period, it gives it that period carriage and it makes it seem—I don’t know—like to the people in New Haven at the original American production:”Oh, it’s important. It’s a classic. It’s from England.”  So I don’t know which way we’re going to go.  I want it to not feel like a musty old historic piece, I want it to be very alive for now, which it is.  Which you know, I try to do with anything I’m working on historically so, I haven’t decided yet.  Both of us are intrigued with the decision.  We will have looked at a ton of materials before we make our choice.  It would be just so voluptuous to do it in the nineties…1890s. And so surprising and fresh to do it in the ’20’s.

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.

Margot White

Hmmmm… a blog. Let me start with the qualifier that I do actually consider myself as… “understanding”, at least, as to the workings of the 21st Century. I’ve heard of Facebook, appreciate texts and email correspondence, and even got myself a snazzy new iPhone. Knowing how to navigate these ever-changing gadgets, however, well, how can one truly ever keep up? Spiffy new things are now outdated within a year or less, and frankly, I’m not much of a fad follower—particularly on stuff with plugs. All that said, this whole new fangled blog thing has remained somewhat of a mystery to me. I kind of had it in my head that it’s somewhat of an online diary—you know, that little thing where you share your thoughts to a private little book, secured with a lock and key. The one that usually starts on Jan 1 and disappears around mid-March to the realm of “something else to keep on top of.” It’s the kind of thing you keep buried behind your stuffed animals, or find solace in when you just need some escape and “me time”. Only now, instead of Dear Diary, it’s turned into Dear World… Yep, somehow I missed that leap.

Now that we’ve started rehearsals for Talley’s Folly (referred to on day one as “possibly the sweetest and most beautiful play ever written”, and to which I just might have to agree), I suppose some of those same mentalities linger. One of my favorite things in this world is a first day of rehearsal. I also happen to be one of those freaks who loves auditioning, as well as working on my birthday, but for me, rehearsals are truly a special, revered place of solace. As actors, we spend so much of our time and efforts looking for the next gig, the next success, hell—the next paycheck (hmmm…can one say hell in a private-to-the-world diary???), that once we’ve made it across that threshold and GOT THE JOB!, there’s an indescribable joy and inner peace that comes from what my husband refers to as “earning it and owning it.” Sitting in that room the first day, with the entire team of collaborators coming together to essentially make life happen truthfully under imaginary circumstances, well—let’s just say it’s a place where I breathe quite comfortably. We no longer have the pressure to perform, but rather the luxury to be, create, discover, cry, laugh, fly, question, play, fail, try, achieve, listen, be still, jump, wiggle—all the while knowing we’re in the trusted hands of other accomplished artists, all of whom have an active responsibility towards the creative process and final production. Ultimately, all this participation culminates to bring to life the magic of the theater.

It’s a cherished place, that rehearsal room—it’s magic. But you know how it works; as an audience member, if you know the secret, it’s not as much fun anymore—the wonder’s gone. I believe that part of my job is to keep the wonder alive—to believe, and allow you to believe, in magic. I’m overwhelmingly thrilled to be here at McCarter, and am very much looking forward to bringing Sally Talley to life every day from now through November 2. I’m also grateful for all you might want to read, and thankful for your understanding of what I might wish to share (or not) in committing to this cool newfangled blog opportunity.

So with that, I’m going to take my little lock, and close up my diary for tonight—Good night, Dear Diary, we’ll talk again soon

Posted by Margot White, who plays Sally Talley in McCarter Theatre’s Production of Talley’s Folly.

As usual, the Shakespeare Theatre Company continues to provide really extraordinary digital content to support the education and cultivation of their audience.  Since we’re co-producing Twelfth Night with them this year, I hope that we will be able to take advantage of some of their unique digital ventures to share you our audiences as well.  Below, you can find a video of Rebecca Taichman (Twelfth Night director) that they recently posted on their YouTube page.  Enjoy!

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.

BD Wong in Herringbone.  Photo by Rich Termine.

A tap-dancing kid
And a murderous midget
Don’t bring young children.

Have you seen Herringbone?  Were you inspired to write a haiku?  Well, now is your chance!  This next one is inspired by (and uses only phrases from) Simon Saltzman’s review of Herringbone in CurtainUp.

Oddly compelling
Horrific and light-hearted
Tour-de-force for Wong.

Yes, today marks the start of the Herringbone Haiku Competition.  Submit a haiku about Herringbone by clicking on the “comments” link below.  The writer of the best haiku (as determined by me), will receive a pair of free tickets to a Theater Series production of his or her choice.  Points will be given for humor, accuracy in describing Herringbone and appropriate use of the haiku form.  Multiple entries are encouraged.

The dancing is great
And the music’s real catchy,
A wee bit bizarre.

This is social media at its best, folks.  Have fun!

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.

Bill Lockwood

It’s not every day that a McCarter staff member gets a story about them written in The Gray Lady, but that’s just what happened to Bill Lockwood, McCarter’s own Director of Special Programming, bon vivant and raconteur.   And it’s certainly not every 71-year-old that gets called a “dorm-room wunderkind” and “slightly ahead of his time.”  But again, that’s Bill Lockwood.

In case you didn’t catch it, yesterday’s New York Times featured a story about Bill, and we’re all very proud.  This, combined with some nice stories about our new managing director (Star-Ledger, Times of Trenton) made it a very busy news day here at McCarter.  Here’s an excerpt from yesterday’s Times coverage on Bill:

PRINCETON, NJ—THINK dorm-room wunderkind, and you’re apt to conjure a 90s-era Internet whiz, not a 71-year-old man with a pair of iPod earbuds dangling from his shirt pocket.

William Lockwood Jr., the pioneering McCarter Theater impresario, has always been slightly ahead of his time, though. Having presented his first concerts there as an undergraduate, he will celebrate his 50th anniversary as special programming director next month with two events: an acoustic performance by Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt on Oct. 20 and a concert with the piano prodigy Lang Lang on Oct. 21.

Interviewed recently in his closet-sized, disheveled McCarter office, Mr. Lockwood said that work has been his life: “I go to so many shows each week, I couldn’t have been a decent husband or father.”

Trading in rock concerts and modern dance recitals for a more traditional life would have been akin to studying all night every night in his Princeton dorm room circa 1958, instead of using it as a base to recruit performers.  - Full story here

So overall, a very full day.  And Herringbone doesn’t even open until tonight!

Update: Here’s another article on Tim Shields.  What a day.

Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.

Pun Bandhu and Marin Ireland in The Bells, by Theresa Rebeck. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

Theresa Rebeck (who McCarter audiences will remember as the playwright of The Bells in our 2004-2005 season) recently published an article in The Guardian’s blog about women playwrights getting their work produced on Broadway.  It’s a very smart indictment of commercial theater and the New York Times’ recent declaration of this season as the “Year of the Man” on Broadway.  This is, of course, relevant to us here at McCarter, where last season 3 of the 5 plays we produced were written by women.  This season, 3 of our 5 plays are directed by women.  Theresa’s article is quoted below:

Boys, boys, boys! This year on Broadway it is a celebration of boys! Step aside, girls - it’s time for the boys!

The New York Times tells us this week that this is the Year of the Man. This year is nothing like last year, when there was actually one new play, written by a woman (me), on Broadway. At the tail end of the season a revival of Top Girls by Caryl Churchill snuck into the lineup too. And then lots of awards went to Tracy Letts - who is a man, but whose name sounds like it could be a woman’s name. So that’s TWO women and one guy whose name sounds like a woman’s. It was exhausting dealing with all that estrogen. Time to give the men a chance.

Could we get real? Every year is the Year of the Man, with a couple of women who manage to crawl their way into the lineup. In the 2008/2009 season, as it has been announced, the number of plays written by women on New York stages will amount to 12.6% of the total. Want to know the same figure for the 1908/1909 season? Let’s see, it was … 12.8%!

One might put this trend down to something like, hmm, discrimination. But actually what we’re told is that the plays that are produced are just the plays that were worth doing, and that playwriting is in fact a Y-chromosome gene. So women should just back off, because putting plays written by women into production because maybe audiences might like a really well-written play that was well-written by a woman would be pandering to ideas of political correctness. And art doesn’t do that.

What art does is celebrate the lives and struggles of men.

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McCarter Literary Manager Carrie Hughes recently conducted an interview with Skip Kennon, composer of Herringbone. Here are some excerpts of their conversation:

CH: How did you get involved in this project?

SK: Many years ago Ken Marsolais and Colleen Dewhurst held an option on a small musical of mine. They also held an option on Tom Cone’s one-act play Herringbone and proposed to Tom that he make a musical of it. When Tom said let’s pursue the idea, Ken and Colleen approached me and asked me if I was interested in doing the score. After I read it, I said I’m crazy enough to do the music but I’m not crazy enough to do the lyrics—but I know someone who is. I proposed the lyric writer Ellen Fitzhugh and we auditioned for Tom and the rest is history. By the way, Tom’s play only got us to the Hollywood segment, the rest of the story was arrived at through collaboration and of course Tom’s approval—with a few of the older characters and scenes dropped along the way.

CH: What makes the story of Herringbone good material for a musical?

SK: Characters who have big wants and great needs and big obstacles to achieving them and getting them met. Also lots of events and ups and downs. One arc plays, movies, or stories usually don’t make good musicals because you need twists and turns to create new situations to write a varied score.

CH: Can you talk about the challenges and rewards of orchestrating a piece for only three instruments?

SK: Herringbone is a musical in the form of an act. Acts are usually performed with piano, bass and drums and sometimes small bands. Colleen and Ken promised me that after the first production of Herringbone at the St. Nicholas Theatre in Chicago I could have a trio.

At St. Nick’s we only had piano—there was no room for anything else. Too bad, because bass adds a bottom and a buoyancy and percussion adds groove and drive. And all three together sound like a classy act like at the Algonquin or the Carlisle. To me, piano alone sounds like a rehearsal—not a performance—and it looks like the producers are cheap. I didn’t get my trio at the New York premiere at Playwrights Horizons. It was a tiny stage and again there was no room. And I believe the lukewarm critical response to the score at Playwrights was reflected in that incompleteness. The last three productions I’ve seen of the show have used the trio and the score really came alive. “Orchestrating” is too high falutin’ a word for what I did. I just added the drums that were always in my head when I was writing the music and wrote out the bass part that is inherent in the piano score which doesn’t change in either the solo or trio version.

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