Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (41 page)

    
To Arnold Weissberger

    
March 20, 1974

    
Dear Arnold,

    
The best way to answer your letter is by simply enumerating the facts, all of which, if you are so inclined, you can check with Chuck Eisler at the City Center.

        
1. I had absolutely nothing to do with the advertisement.

        
2. I have really very little to do with the whole project. I supplied a
very brief
connecting commentary which took me a few days to prepare. I passed by rehearsal once for five minutes and I have never even attended a full rehearsal—nor intend to.

        
3. It was only because of your letter that I really examined the ad at all.

        
4. I had absolutely nothing to do with the selection of the songs, but I do know Burton’s name is mentioned and I believe something of his is being performed and I will check on it today.

        
I also don’t know why Stephen Sondheim’s name isn’t mentioned, although the show ends during the ’60s before his last three hits. I know that something from
West Side Story
and
Gypsy
is being used.

        
In other words, I really don’t know much about this thing at all—which is just the way I want it. What I did I did for the City Center, on the promise that I would not be bothered after handing in the script, because I am hard at work on another project.

        
But nevertheless, it
is
an outrage that Burton’s name was not mentioned. Please assure him it had nothing to do with me. He has no greater fan than I, and I have always liked him more than he liked me.

        
The defense rests.

Affectionately,

Alan Jay Lerner

    
P.S. Since writing the above I called the City Center and found out that Dan Dailey broke his leg yesterday. Can Burton [Lane] do a time step? Or can you?

A week later, Lerner and Loewe were surprised to win the Tony Award for Best Score for
Gigi
—so much so, in fact, that neither attended the ceremony to accept the award.
⁶²

    
By May, much of
1600
had been drafted, but Bernstein was busy with the premiere of his new ballet with New York City Ballet choreographer Jerome Robbins,
⁶³
Dybbuk
. Lerner wrote to wish him good luck, as well as to speed him on his way back to work on the musical:

    
To Leonard Bernstein

    
May 15, 1974

    
Dear Lenny,

    
Blessings tonight. I can’t wait to see it and hear it.

        
If Jerry [Robbins] wants any changes after tonight I’ll put a contract out on him.

        
I’m starting the second act and waiting for you like Duse for D’Annunzio. The room is ready, the piano has been tuned, the plane is revved up and I have fired my children.

        
Hurry.

Always,

Alan

    
Lerner was obviously having a wonderful time with the show, and for once he was not responsible for its slow progress. Over the summer, he managed to work further with Bernstein, who held a press conference in September to announce the production. Don Oberdorfer of the
Washington Post
reported that the musical was “planned to celebrate the U.S. Bicentennial” in 1976, and Bernstein was quoted as saying, “The subject is the White House from 1800 to 1900, from the time it was built for John Adams until the time it acquired its name under Teddy Roosevelt.…All this century is seen from the kitchen through the eyes of the blacks, who have been the only consistent inhabitants of that house. We are trying to tell that terribly important story of the little white lie that our country has been living with since its inception—by which I mean the big black lie.”
⁶⁴
In the end, the simplicity with which Bernstein explained the show’s premise did not characterize the piece as it appeared on Broadway, but its strong theme explains both the composer and lyricist’s desire to write the musical.

    
During the summer, Lerner also sent the following letter to a young writer, Ed Brown, who was trying to create a musical. Though the piece seems not to have made it to the stage, the letter is interesting for its insights into Lerner’s varied thought processes about writing and putting on a show; it is also surely of note that whereas Lerner is sometimes portrayed as being self-absorbed in his career, this letter shows him giving extensive help, and criticism in a tactful way, without hope of any personal gain:

    
To Ed Brown

    
August 5, 1974

    
Dear Ed,

    
I enjoyed meeting you and your wife so much on Friday and I must say your entire project sounds fascinating.

        
I read the outline and listened to the songs over the weekend, understanding, of course, that the outline is only a beginning and its principal purpose at this point is only to give a background for the songs.

        
Let me begin with what I think is right about it:

        
The idea is theatrical and exciting and fresh. The music is, for the most part, first rate and, I think, captures some of the excitement of the theme itself.

        
Before I tell you what I think is wrong with it, I beg you to bear in mind that I am the fellow who turned down the dramatization of
Teahouse of the August Moon
because I didn’t think it would work; and many years ago, when no less a figure than Moss Hart showed me the score for
The Music Man
, we both agreed that it would only be fair to the producer to advise him not to produce it. I offer these credentials to enable you to keep what I have to say in perspective.

        
1) I have found over the years—and used it in good stead—that when one has a fantastic story to tell that one wishes to be taken seriously, there must be a character on the stage that the audience can
identify with, who represents their disbelief. It is as if before the audience can say, “Oh, come off it,” somebody on the stage does it for them and puts them at ease. As that character, through the dramatic action of the play, begins to accept the fantasy, seriously and emotionally, he brings the audience along with him. That character is missing. Without that character the fantasy becomes an obvious creation of the author. The people on the stage become the mouthpiece of the author. What one arrives at, then, is spectacle rather than drama. A recent glaring example of this kind of dramatic mistake was
Via Galactica
, directed by no less an artist than Peter Hall—and lasted one week.

        
2) Before a play can be about ideas it has to be about people.

        
3) Because in this case one is dealing with a legend that may, in fact, be rooted in some historical truth, it seems to me in order to do the nobility of that legend justice, the play should be written in a language that, whatever its style, cannot be colloquial. This is where, I believe, the lyrics fall short. The play is larger than life, which I love—but the language is in the contemporary idiom, which cheapens the high purpose.

        
4) My last point is personal rather than dramatic. The truth of Atlantis is much more fantastic than any fantasist can create. The tragedy of its decline and fall, if one is to believe the ancient myths, is a more pertinent lesson for our times than the one presented in this version. Simply stated, the legend is that a paradise was destroyed by greed and a lust for power. The souls who perished in the cataclysm of Atlantis have returned in the bodies of contemporary man and are being given another chance. It’s a great theme. I long for that feeling to permeate the play.

        
The physical and visual ideas that you outlined for the production are marvelous. But first of all the play must be a good play. A number of years ago Abe Burrows
⁶⁵
was directing his first play on Broadway. He called his friend George S. Kaufman
⁶⁶
and said to him: “George, they want to use a treadmill in the play. Is that a good thing?” Kaufman thought for a moment and said: “What do they say on it?” That’s my point.

        
I hope some of these notes may be of assistance. If you disregard them I won’t blame you and with all my heart I wish you the greatest success.

        
Kindest regards to you and your wife.

Faithfully,

Alan Jay Lerner

    
With
1600
well on its way, Lerner made a last-ditch attempt in September to make improvements to
The Little Prince
, with which he and Loewe were both dissatisfied and which was due for release in November. First, he wrote to Stanley Donen to try to repair the relationship and to suggest a few changes that might help the film:

    
To Stanley Donen

    
September 25, 1974

    
Dear Stanley,

    
I saw the picture yesterday and I’m enormously encouraged. I think you did a terrific re-editing job and although it is obviously difficult to be objective at this point, especially when one views it alone and not with an audience, I do feel hopeful.

        
If you are still open for any minor suggestions, I would like to offer the following:

        
1) As the Little Prince goes from planet to planet—as you remember, Fritz wrote “Be Happy” as “flying music”—would it not be possible to use it? I do think it would be gayer and more fitting.

        
2) The Rose is so charming now that the dance is out, would you consider using both choruses of the lyric—or at least have her sing the first chorus while he is next to her and have the second chorus be heard as he gets farther and farther away from the planet? Or at least restore the verse to the song. I do think it would add more of a moment to their relationship.

        
3) There’s no question that taking out “Matters of Consequence” was a good move. Unfortunately, as you undoubtedly know, there is an awkward blend when the Little Prince begins the scene with “Do they also eat baobabs?” Would it be possible to cut the baobab reference and begin with just eating flowers?

        
4) “I’m On Your Side” is much, much better. I just felt that the last chord could be held just a little longer and the end of the number extended two seconds to give it a finish.

        
5) “I Never Met a Rose” seems to work pretty well now, but what would you think of either:

            
a. Using the original orchestration and even though he puts the megaphone to his mouth, not let it change his tonal quality.

            
or

            
b. If you feel strongly about the Horace Heidt orchestration, at least keep the tonal quality even.

        
6) I wish you would reconsider that famous line being said by the Fox in the wheatfields. I know you have a cut of it with Kiley saying it himself and it really gives the line the importance it should have. It seems a little cutie-pie this way for so important a moment in the Pilot’s character development.

        
7) When the Pilot first hears the laughter in the heavens it seems a little faint. I’ve heard it much stronger and I’m certain it would help.

        
8) The overture at the moment seems neither fish nor fowl. Wouldn’t it be better to hear “Little Prince” and “Closer and Closer” in their entirety rather than a sort of mumbo-jumbo of themes? Personally, I wouldn’t care if we just heard an establishment of “The Little Prince” theme and then played “Closer and Closer” over and over. It would make for a very gay beginning.

        
9) I think a couple of helpful snips could be made in the planets. The Napoleon line by the Historian, for example. And I wish we could tighten up the General.

        
Please think all this over, especially the overture and the wheatfield line, and try to forget the suggestions came from me. And congratulations again on all the work you’ve done.

Alan

    
Having received no reply, he then wrote to Frank Yablans, president of Paramount Studios, to suggest changes to the soundtrack album of the film that was to be released in conjunction with the movie:

    
To Frank Yablans