By Harry Haun
Lording majestically over the action on the Majestic stage (as well he should) from his box seat was the man who fine-tuned the fine tunes, director Harold Prince. Seated beside him in the front mezzanine left center black-and-gold box were his daughter, Daisy Prince, and his longtime friends, John McMartin (his memorable Ben Stone and Cap'n Andy) and Irish Rep artistic director Charlotte Moore.
Days away from his Jan. 30 85th birthday, he nevertheless bounded to the stage like a teenager, moved his eye glasses to the top of his bald pate (the stock Hal Prince battle-station pose) and joined Sir Cameron in dispensing thanks and reading telegrams from MIA major players like Crawford and choreographer Gillian Lynne, who was tied up with leading Betty Buckley in a London tech of Dear World.
The late Maria Bjornson, whose lush sets and costumes still sca-ream rococo-rich Victorian elegance, was remembered, and — in a typically generous, Princely gesture — so was the whole army it takes backstage to put the show on; they came forth to take a bow. When all was said and done, the stage resembled the populous of Providence, RI.
28 Jan 2013
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Harold Prince
Photo by Monica Simoes
The evening ended with a bang of exploding canisters that sent confetti showering down on a glammed-up audience in tuxes and gowns. With the legendary chandelier dripping in tinsel streamers, the crimson curtain fell on Phantom's 25th anniversary performance. With that elaborate extra inning, it ran from 6:52 PM to 10:04 PM.
Continued...





