By Steven Suskin
14 Mar 2010

If West Side Story is one of Broadway's finest musicals with one of its finest scores, Gypsy (1959) is, in my opinion, several pegs finer. Jule Styne was a supremely accomplished composer, both in Hollywood and on Broadway, with a tendency to find irrepressibly melodic tunes rolling off his fingertips. Working with Sondheim — 25 years younger and worlds apart in outlook and training — Jule seems to have been prodded into writing a somewhat different type of theatre score. Could it be that the likes of Sammy Cahn, Bob Merrill and Comden & Green were content to set whatever Jule turned out, while Sondheim listened and suggested and helped develop the tunes into more dramatic musical theatre songs? Whatever the reason, Gypsy towers above Styne's other scores; most other Broadway scores, too. The reference above to original cast musicians who make a difference in the playing on the recordings can easily be applied to Gypsy's trumpeter, a fellow named Dick Perry. He originated that famous trumpet solo in the overture, contributing some ad libs along the way (as called for); other good trumpeters have come along, but has anyone played Gypsy like Perry? (The same can be said for his contributions to the overture on the original cast album of a subsequent Styne musical, Funny Girl.)

The excellent orchestrations to Gypsy, by Sid Ramin and Red Ginzler, have never sounded as good on any subsequent Gypsy, on recording or in the theatre, and for a very simple reason; the original charts seem never to have been used elsewhere. They were revised for touring purposes by unknown hands in 1960 or so, with a viola section added to what had been a violins-only orchestration. These new parts were created and duplicated for rental use, and have been heard in subsequent amateur and professional productions (including the several Broadway revivals of the show). The revised charts are fortunately very similar to the originals, with much of the show's vibrancy — and the unparalleled reed and brass writing — retained; but what you are hearing on all the revival cast albums is simply not the same as what they played when Merman was singing the show at the Broadway in 1959.

Fans of the various stars who have recorded the role of Rose over the years will compare one version over another; me, I'll stick to Ethel Merman. Favorite moments: The overture, which lifts the roof off the place like none other. "Some People," ditto. "Little Lamb," with its tenderly tentative orchestration. "You'll Never Get Away from Me," with its delicious reed embellishments. "If Momma Was Married," ditto the reeds. "All I Need Is the Girl," with that ethereally dream-like dance which builds to a frenzy. "Everything's Coming up Roses," which really does hit the heights in musical comedy power. I needn't go on to "Together," "Gimmick" and "Rose's Turn," need I?

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1962), too, has never sounded the same; as with Gypsy, the orchestrations were altered for post-Broadway use. In this case, they were significantly weakened. (Among other changes, they added violins to a show that originally didn't have them — a far more severe change than adding violas to Gypsy.) Forum, of course, was Sondheim's first Broadway musical with music by Sondheim; he logically enough enlisted West Side orchestrators Sid Ramin and Irv Kostal to do the show. (Ramin did Gypsy as well, though not with Kostal.) The originals still exist, but remain untouched. In 1996, however, Jonathan Tunick provided a new set for the Nathan Lane revival.

I think it fair to say that Forum doesn't compare to the best of Bernstein, Styne or Sondheim neither; the score is merely raucously funny. What's more, the original cast album contains inspired performances from Zero Mostel, Jack Gilford and David Burns. Favorite moments: "Comedy Tonight," that incisive and witty opening number. "Love I Hear," a sweetly innocent ballad buoyed by some lovely flute writing. "Free," the first of several tongue-twisting lyrics patterned into an unlikely duet. "Lovely," a romantic duet which is actually nothing but; it was written as a duet for two baggy-pants comedians (Pseudolus and Hysterium). When the creators couldn't decide on a suitable first act song for the lovers, Sondheim hit upon the idea of taking this second act duet and pre-reprising it. And it worked beautifully! "Everybody Ought to Have a Maid," a rollicking quartet that easily ranks high among low comedy songs. "Impossible," another unlikely duet carefully pieced together like a three-dimensional puzzle. "Bring Me My Bride" and "Funeral Sequence," two ludicrous songs that are uproariously funny in context.

With three hits in a row — Forum surprisingly outran both West Side and Gypsy by half a year, although the earlier shows have had a much stronger after-life — Sondheim was ready to brave Broadway with Anyone Can Whistle (1964), which the original ads labeled "A Wild Musical." Wild indeed, with a score that alienated a fair share of the audience but was, and remains, remarkable. The show keeps returning in various guises, looking to finally prove its worth; we shall get to see it once more on April 8, when City Center Encores! places it center stage. The original cast album was recorded despite the show's dire reception, and it's a mighty fortuitous thing it was — otherwise this amazing score might be known only from scratchy pirate recordings with blurry lyrics. Favorite moments: The Prelude, which sets things up askew. "Me and My Town," which immediately startles us (and with a Kay Thompson-style backup, no less). "Miracle Song," which continues in this vein. "Simple," a multi-part sequence running 13 minutes on the cast recording, which puts everything on its ear. "The opposite of left is right, the opposite of right is wrong, so anyone who's left is wrong. Right?" Simple? Not so. Angela Lansbury's "A Parade in Town" came along at the same time that Carol was singing "Before the Parade Passes By" and Barbra was singing "Don't Rain on My Parade." Which is your favorite? "Everybody Says Don't" and "I've Got You to Lean On" are both winning numbers; "The Cookie Chase" is, like "Simple," a wild, multi-part piece; and "With So Little to Be Sure Of" wraps things up on an ambivalent note with warm musical notes. Shining on the original cast album of Anyone Can Whistle is Lansbury, everything she sings and says. She would go on to become a legendary Sondheim leading lady, but here in her first musical she was already as good as they come.

Whistle was a quickly-shuttered fiasco; what's more, the majority of the traditionalist audience seemed enraged by it. This in April, 1964; Sondheim would not see his next composed musical open until April, 1970. One Broadway opportunity came along in the interim, with his West Side-Gypsy-Whistle librettist (Arthur Laurents) and yet another legendary Broadway composer, Richard Rodgers. Do I Hear a Waltz? (1965) doesn't get much respect; the creators themselves were loath to praise it. I report that I nevertheless enjoy the cast recording quite a bit; it is possible, though, that if I had actually sat through the show in the theatre, I'd never have bothered listening to the recording. Favorite moments: the opening number, "Someone Woke Up," which builds and builds and features a shimmering orchestration (by Ralph Burns): welcome to Venice! "What Do We Do? We Fly!" is humorous, in what might seem like a pre-Sondheim manner. "Someone Like You," too, is a pleasing ballad which sounds little like Rodgers or Sondheim (and which is picked up, mightily, by the orchestration). Rodgers and Sondheim combine for two equally good songs of longing. "Here We Are Again" is sung by six of the principals; it began as an extended scene ("Promenade") of song fragments, in seven parts. When the tryout was savaged, the main song in the scene ("Two by Two") was ejected; "Here We Are Again" was written incorporating many of the existing fragments. After all of that, they came up with a song that works very nicely. "Take the Moment" is a booming ballad for the resident tenor, Sergio Franchi. Again, it is helped by the orchestrator, and it effectively brings down the first act curtain. "Moon in My Window" is the loveliest song of the show, a trio for the show's unrequited women. (Mr. Laurents did not write a happy story here.) Finally, "Do I Hear a Waltz?" makes a very nice title song, considering. This is not a great show or a good show, with little to recommend it. If Encores! wants to give it to us with Victoria Clark and Paolo Szot, though, all bets are on. I confess that I listen to the Waltz cast album far more frequently than some of the other titles on my Rodgers and Sondheim shelves, so there!

That takes Sondheim through the '60s, and through his 30s. Our next column will pick up with the Sondheim/Prince years.

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Our last column discussed the highly successful 1952 revue, An Evening with Beatrice Lillie. I mentioned Lillie's duo-piano accompanists, Eadie & Rack (the married couple Eadie Griffith and Howard "Rack" Godwin). What I failed to mention was that when Eadie & Rack were unavailable for a 1956 Florida tour, Lillie instead took Kander & Pippin. That's right: Kander & Pippin. Lillie, who was growing somewhat confused, occasionally introduced them from the stage as Eadie & Rack. One night a lady in the first row asked, "Which is Eadie?" John pointed, helpfully, at Don.

(Steven Suskin is author of the recently released updated and expanded Fourth Edition of "Show Tunes" as well as "The Sound of Broadway Music: A Book of Orchestrators and Orchestrations," "Second Act Trouble" and the "Opening Night on Broadway" books. He can be reached at Ssuskin@aol.com.)

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Steven Suskin's updated and expanded fourth edition of "Show Tunes" is available at PlaybillStore.com.