Flora, the Red Menace
T
hough not the first show they wrote,
Flora, the Red Menace
was Kander and Ebb’s first Broadway musical, a satire of 1930s radicals and Greenwich Village bohemianism. The heroine of the piece was an aspiring fashion designer whose boyfriend convinces her to join the Communist Party. Produced by Harold Prince and directed by George Abbott, the show opened at the Alvin Theater on May 11, 1965. Though it ran for only eighty-seven performances,
Flora
quickly established Kander and Ebb as up-and-coming musical comedy stylists (the cast album spent two months on the charts) and earned nineteen-year-old Liza Minnelli a Tony for her first leading role on Broadway. On the opening night of
Flora
, Liza scored with her second-act number “Sing Happy,” foreshadowing what was to come in the years ahead for the songwriters and their favorite muse.
EBB: Not long after we first met, Richard Morris showed us a book he had written for a show called
Golden Gate
, and we wrote the score. The libretto was about the rebuilding of San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake.
KANDER: Richard was a friend of yours.
EBB: Kaye Ballard had introduced me to him. I was going to
California and I had no place to stay. She called Richard and arranged for me to stay with him.
KANDER: We knew him before anything had happened to us, and he was part of a whole Hollywood world that I had never seen.
EBB: Richard was very successful. He wrote the
Loretta Young Show
for many years. He also wrote
The Unsinkable Molly Brown
and
Thoroughly Modern Millie.
KANDER: He knew everybody.
EBB: Yeah, Jan Sterling and Paul Douglas used to hang out with him all the time. Loretta Young came to dinner. Those were the kind of people Richard knew. He impressed the hell out of me.
KANDER: His book for
Golden Gate
was based on a real character who was known as Emperor Norton, and he was a wildly eccentric guy who declared himself the Emperor of San Francisco —
EBB: And all the outer islands.
KANDER: San Francisco, being the kind of city it is, treated him like he was an emperor.
EBB: He lived in the Palace Hotel and was much beloved. Nobody ever charged him when he went to restaurants, and he had a ring and a ball of wax that he used for an official seal. He was out of our 1906 time frame, actually, but we appropriated him. We saw Mickey Rooney playing that role.
KANDER: We were out in California staying with Richard —
EBB: And we played a big backers’ audition in San Francisco. I remember a hall filled with people, and we played some of our songs to raise money for this enterprise. But it never happened.
KANDER: We did have a good time working on that score. Shall we tell the shower story?
EBB: Sure.
KANDER: You and Richard gave me an assignment at a certain point, saying, “All we need here is the most passionate, most
romantic melody in the world.” Then the two of you left me alone. All I could think to do was to play this piece —
[playing piano]
EBB: I went to take a shower and I heard this glorious melody. I said, “Oh, my God, John!” I rushed out of the shower and told you, “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” I actually started to write a lyric for it. What was it?
KANDER: The music was
Turandot.
You were terribly excited, and I said, “Thanks! That’s Puccini.”
EBB: Oh, I loved that piece. I thought it was the most beautiful thing.
KANDER: We used to play songs for Tommy Valando over the telephone. Tommy was a very theatrical guy. You would sing him pieces that we were writing. I remember we had written one song we were kind of in love with while we were writing, and we played it for him over the phone, expecting a big response. He was a very exuberant person. But there was a long silence, and just as I had done with your reaction to
Turandot,
he said, “Are you kidding!” The lyric was basically from a Duke Ellington song and the melody was a distorted version of a song from No
Strings.
We had both done it and had no idea we had done it. Of course, we never published it.
EBB: Right. “Prelude to a Kiss” was another one where I stole the title.
KANDER: But you do those things and you don’t know it consciously.
EBB: I think that’s what happened with Jerry Herman. He was sued by Mack David over the song “Hello, Dolly!” But Jerry didn’t mean to take any of that material.
KANDER: Nobody intends to do that.
EBB: You get nailed after you’ve done it.
KANDER: Who was that priest who wrote those musicals? Carmine?
EBB: Al Carmine.
KANDER: He wrote some things that were really quite good, and somebody wrote a review of him saying, “Every piece of music that Carmine has ever heard has gone in one ear and stayed there.”
EBB:
[laughing
] He was good, though.
KANDER:
Golden Gate
gave us our first real show.
EBB: We auditioned with that score.
KANDER: That’s what landed us
Flora, the Red Menace.
EBB: We played it for George Abbott. He liked it and I remember him smiling and saying, “That’s fine.” That experience was unbelievable. Now that I look back on it, it has almost a dreamlike quality. It was amazing just to be in the same room with a legend like Mr. Abbott.
KANDER: Hal Prince was the one who set up the audition.
EBB: You knew Hal from working with him on
A Family Affair
. I did not know Hal as well, and when we used to go to his office for whatever reason, invariably when we were leaving, Hal would say, “Hey, Johnny, come in here.” You would go in and I would be left standing in the anteroom or by the elevators. I felt left out of things because the two of you had that relationship. Of course, it wasn’t anybody’s fault.
KANDER: You felt that way with Mary Rodgers, too?
EBB: Yes, I had a brief association with her, and she and Hal had a way of communicating that excluded me. It used to hurt. But after we played for George Abbott and got the show, I developed more of a relationship with Hal. Later, I traveled to Europe with him and we became friends. But we were offered
Flora
based entirely on our work with
Golden Gate
.
KANDER: Hal had bought the rights to a book called
Love Is Just around the Corner
, which came out during a newspaper strike and was never reviewed.
EBB: Lester Atwell was the author.
KANDER: It was a novel based on his memories of the early
thirties, and the Communist Party and life in New York—a beautiful, funny, touching story. Hal read the galleys and immediately thought of it as a musical. In those days he hadn’t really started directing yet. He had directed
A Family Affair
in less than ten days, and that was his first directing experience on Broadway. But he also acquired projects for Mr. Abbott and worked out of his office. They had a very close business relationship for many years. Hal produced the show for Abbott, who was probably the wrong person to direct that show. As wonderful a man as he was, he really didn’t have an affinity for the material. Hal later said he wished he had directed it himself.
EBB: Hal asked us to write six songs on spec and play them for him. I think all of them were used in the show except for “The Kid Herself.”
KANDER: Mr. Abbott was very supportive in his rough way even if he was rejecting things. He would never cut us down to size.
EBB: Hal was also very supportive of us and obviously pushing for us to get this show. The first time we played those six songs, we played them for Hal and his wife, Judy, at their East Side apartment. That gave us confidence because they liked them so much. Then we went on to do it. The experience of working on
Flora
was thrilling, the kind of situation where I wanted to just go off in a corner and cry because I could hardly believe it was really happening, our first Broadway show. I don’t remember having any sense of pride or ego. I was always prayerful about the work—I hope they like it, I hope it works, I hope it’s as good as it sounds to me—but the truth is you never know.
KANDER: In those days we wrote a lot, and we threw away a lot.
EBB: With
Flora
we must have written sixty songs, out of which they chose fifteen.
KANDER: That was true for
Cabaret
as well.
EBB: We kept going home and writing.
KANDER: We wrote very fast, and we tore them up very fast. But every once in a while we would write a song we both had affection for. In
Flora
, “A Quiet Thing” was one of them.
EBB: We also knew that they were not going to cut that song. I remember at one point during rehearsals Mr. Abbott wanted a ballad, so Mr. Abbott got a ballad. But as you know, a ballad is the most difficult kind of song for me to write. I never quite know how to begin one. We were envisioning a scene in which Flora gets her big break. You said to me, “Let’s approach the moment this way. Did anything ever happen to you in your life like when everything came true, everything you ever dreamed?” I said, “Yes, when we signed to do this show.” Then you asked me what I felt at that moment, and I said, “Oh, nothing.” I mean there it was,
nothing
, and that is what the song is about. I know without your suggestion I would never have approached the lyrics that way:
When it all comes true
Just the way you planned,
It’s funny but the bells don’t ring.
It’s a quiet thing.
When you hold the world
In your trembling hand,
You’d think you’d hear a choir sing,
It’s a quiet thing.
There are no exploding fireworks.
Where’s the roaring of the crowds?
Maybe it’s this strange new atmosphere
Way up here among the clouds,
But I don’t hear the drums,
I don’t hear the band,
The sounds I’m told such moments bring.
Happiness comes in on tiptoe,
Well, whatd’ya know?
It’s a quiet thing.
A very quiet thing.
KANDER: I’m mushy about this memory. To most people, the idea is that if you get good news you immediately start to jump up and down, but you may not necessarily react that way.
EBB: It’s happened again since then. I remember you calling to say, “I have some good news for you. We won the Kennedy Center Honor.” I couldn’t be anything but quiet. I could have run to the window, opened it, and screamed. But I didn’t.
KANDER: But being quiet doesn’t mean you’re not deeply affected.
EBB: I was totally serene, if you can imagine, and what a high point in life. I don’t think I’ve ever reacted any other way to great news. I’ve always been quiet about it.
KANDER: I tend to react that way also. I think that what we try to do instinctively is write something that is true. It’s really as simple as that. Often when we’re writing a moment for a musical, we’ll be working on an idea and one of us will say, “She wouldn’t talk like that. This character wouldn’t say that.” I don’t think of the way we work as mysterious at all. We try very hard to let the character be true to himself or herself. There will be musical things that are not true. It may seem strange to describe something as abstract as music as being true or false, but there are ways that a melody can be shaped or the rhythmic underpinnings of a song can be written that are simply not true.
EBB: The truth is the character would never sound like that.
KANDER: If you take a Schubert song, and put the microscope to it—to one of his great songs—it’s all true, down to the last note and what he does with the prosody.
EBB: Or take a musical comedy song. Take “Adelaide’s
Lament” in Guys and Dolls. Look at what that woman is saying. “You can spray her wherever the streptococci lurk.” You say to yourself,
Would Adelaide say “streptococci”?
Yes, it sounds right and is wonderfully funny. You never heard that word in a song before, and it’s a delight. I actually made a noise in the theater when I heard that lyric. Oh, what a song! I would have killed to have written that.
KANDER: You know what’s interesting about that lyric, too? Forget the rhyme situation—if Frank Loesser had used the word “streptococcus,” it wouldn’t be funny. It’s the “i” that makes it funny. And if you try to explain why the “i” makes it funny, you can’t.
EBB: Getting back to
Flora
, at the time that we were writing the score, there was a girl in New York named Marge Cameron, who is now Carmen Zapata, and I had written some special material for her. Marge was performing with Liza Minnelli in
Carnival
out on Long Island. Marge said, “Oh, you’ve just got to see Liza; she’s wonderful!” Liza apparently had a record deal, so Marge, trying to be helpful, said, “I’d like to bring her over to hear some of the songs you and John have written, and maybe she’ll put one on her record.” I had no interest in her, but Marge was relentless. Liza eventually came to my apartment to meet us. She was only seventeen. Her hair was long and stringy, and she wore funny-looking clothes, like this red hat with earflaps.