SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

 

In his superb overview of Stephen Sondheim’s career for this concert, program annotator James M. Keller places him in an exalted club of composer-lyricists with only two other members: Cole Porter and Irving Berlin. Those two gents were surely smiling down when the New York Philharmonic celebrated Sondheim’s ageless brilliance with a starry tribute—one of the most well conceived and executed of its type I’ve seen in years. (And the happy coda is that PBS taped the evening to be broadcast later on Great Performances.) Hard as it may be to believe, Sondheim turned 80 this year, so additional birthday nights are in store, but as parties go, this one set a very high bar.

 

Perhaps it’s useful to point out what wasn’t there during the evening: no shameless mugging, no hogging the Avery Fisher Hall stage, no unfunny jokes, no maudlin hero-worshipping speeches—just a raft of theatre legends, doing what they do best, in front of an ecstatic, sold-out audience. (Rumor had it that even cheap seats were going for $300 outside.) And the evening was glued together by David Hyde Pierce, who made a superbly witty master of ceremonies. When conductor Paul Gemignani had the orchestra launch into the triumphant main theme from Sweeney Todd, he was curtly cut off by Hyde Pierce with a cold stare: “This is a birthday party. We’re eating cake, not people.”

 

Three Sweeney vets closed the first half: George Hearn and Michael Cerveris in “Pretty Women,” with Patti LuPone joining them for “A Little Priest,” made blissfully funny by the trio’s precise enunciation. But that was merely the climax of a formidable line-up, including Audra McDonald and Nathan Gunn going over the moon in the Puccini-esque “Too Many Mornings” and a superb quartet traipsing through the sardonic lyrics of “You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow” (both from Follies), and Laura Benanti in “So Many People,” the exquisitely simple ballad from Saturday Night.

 

Hyde Pierce introduced the second half by singing “Beautiful Girls” (with parts in Italian and German), and then the eponymous girls appeared: McDonald slinking through “The Glamorous Life” from the film version of A Little Night Music; Marin Mazzie in a gorgeously anguished “Losing My Mind”; Donna Murphy smirking through “Could I Leave You”; LuPone with a dry remake of “The Ladies Who Lunch”; and Bernadette Peters, childlike in “Not a Day Goes By” from Merrily We Roll Along. But it was the indefatigable Elaine Stritch who received the first standing ovation of the night, standing to deliver the defiant, acidic reminiscence of “I’m Still Here.”

 

To close, as if the evening hadn’t been overwhelming enough, some 200 black-clad choristers from current Broadway shows scattered throughout the hall, filling the stage and aisles, and launched a thrilling, rock-solid “Sunday” from Sunday in the Park with George. The second ovation came when Sondheim himself took the stage, as Gemignani and the entire cast led the audience in “Happy Birthday.” The honoree’s acceptance, capped with tears, was crafted by Alice Roosevelt: “First you’re young, then you’re middle-aged, then you’re wonderful. This was wonderful.”

 

Lest I am accused of being too star-struck, the evening was hugely propelled by the New York Philharmonic’s musicians, digging in to these complex songs with gusto. These meaty arrangements reminded me that recent economics have been steering Sondheim’s oeuvre down the path of “less is more,” at least as far as orchestrations are concerned. As fetching as the recent minimally staged Company was, there is nothing like hearing its blazing choruses anchored by a full brass complement. The sepia colors of Follies seem even richer when flooded with virtuoso strings. This was Sondheim heard as he should be.

 

And last but not least, I owe some kind words to director Lonny Price, whose work with the Philharmonic that I’ve seen in the past has been frustratingly over-directed (specifically, in a musically marvelous version of Bernstein’s Candide). But here he shaped an evening of elegant proportions, and then let the talent take over—nothing seemed the least bit contrived or unnecessary. In the notes, Price mentioned being at the 1973 Sondheim tribute (directed by Burt Shevelove and immortalized on the recording with the Scrabble cover) at New York’s Shubert Theatre for his 14th birthday: “That evening…was and perhaps remains the best night I’ve ever spent in the theater.” On this memorable, deeply moving occasion, I am certain that there was a teenager in Avery Fisher Hall who will be writing those same words, some 37 years from now.

 

Bruce Hodges

Photos by Richard Termine