Loverly:The Life and Times of My Fair Lady (Broadway Legacies) (2 page)

If there’s one musical that deserves to be assessed in a series titled
Broadway Legacies
, it’s surely
My Fair Lady
. From the moment of its premiere, critics and audiences alike took the show to their hearts and embraced its wit, its sense of drama, its poignancy, its vivid characters, and its tremendous score. It belongs to a select group of musicals that can truly be said to be artistic landmarks in the genre—a category that also includes shows like Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II’s
Show Boat
, Richard Rodgers and Hammerstein’s
Oklahoma!
, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim’s
West Side Story
, and Sondheim’s
Company
—as well as enjoying outstanding commercial success (its original Broadway run lasted 2,717 performances).

Yet to date,
My Fair Lady
has been the subject of comparatively little scholarly literature, and its composer and lyricist have been similarly marginalized. The only book dealing with their entire output is Gene Lees’s
Inventing Champagne: The Musical Worlds of Lerner and Loewe
, which broke new ground in establishing a text on one of Broadway’s most important partnerships. However, its reliance on gossip and hearsay, its absence of any musical illustration or analysis, and the decision not to cite sources for the information contained in the book, render it sometimes unreliable. Keith Garebian’s
The Making of My Fair Lady
similarly makes some useful observations and is a fine introduction to the show for general readers, but it is inadequately annotated for scholarly purposes. Gerald Harold Weissman’s 1957 dissertation “The Musicalization of Pygmalion into
My Fair Lady
” (master’s thesis, Stanford University, 1957) benefited from input from Lerner, who allowed the author to see an early outline of the show, but the critical discussion is largely limited to how Shaw’s play was adapted into a musical. The only substantive studies of the show are a single chapter each in Joseph Swain’s
The Broadway Musical
(New York, 1990) and Geoffrey Block’s
Enchanted Evenings
(Oxford, 1997; rev. ed. 2008), both of which offer original views on the show. In particular, Block’s account is the first to make full use of Loewe’s autograph manuscripts (housed at the Library of Congress), while Swain provides a personal analysis of the score and libretto. But because both of these are single chapters in larger books on the genre as a whole, there is an understandable limit to the amount of space that Block and Swain can devote to the show.

When I began my research in this field, it was not difficult for me to decide to focus on this undoubted masterpiece (not least because it has always been
my favorite musical). The real question was how to go about it. We are fortunate in recent years to have seen a steady increase in the amount of quality scholarship on the Broadway musical available in print. Alongside Block’s seminal
Enchanted Evenings
, the books that have most guided me on my way include Stephen Banfield’s
Sondheim’s Broadway Musicals
, a magisterial study of the work of perhaps the most influential composer and lyricist of the past forty years; James Leve’s volume on Kander and Ebb in the excellent Yale Broadway Masters series; and three books that focus on a single musical each—Tim Carter’s
Oklahoma!: The Making of an American Musical
, Jim Lovensheimer’s
South Pacific: Paradise Rewritten
, and bruce d. mcclung’s
Lady in the Dark: Biography of a Musical
. Although the individuality of each of these authors takes their work in different directions, what they share is a seriousness of purpose that shows itself through the depth of research informing their every word. Naturally, the specific focus of Carter, Lovensheimer, and mcclung’s wonderful volumes on one show made them especially valuable models for me to use.

One of the trickiest aspects of dealing with a much-loved show like
My Fair Lady
is that almost everyone seems to have a story to tell about it. In contrast to the surprising dearth of scholarly literature on such a widely admired show, there is a huge amount of gossip attached to it. I quickly realized that not all of it can be proven to be true, however, so in
chapters 1
and
2
I try to describe the background to the musical’s genesis from scratch. The foundation of my revised account lies in several hundred unpublished letters from various archives around the world, most notably the papers of Herman Levin, who produced the show.
Chapter 1
describes Lerner and Loewe’s early frustrated attempts to adapt Shaw’s
Pygmalion
into a musical in 1952, and
chapter 2
goes on to show how they eventually managed it in 1954–56. In
chapter 3
I take a brief look at the background to Shaw’s play and try to clear up some of the confusion about the 1938 film of
Pygmalion
, which contains some changes: for instance, although the play does not show Eliza’s lessons with Higgins, the film does. The
Pygmalion
movie is also the source of the reunion of Higgins and Eliza at the final curtain and is not a “happy ending” appended by Lerner to the musical; he just adopted it. I then explore Lerner’s draft outlines for the show, which document his developing thoughts as to the show’s structure, and go on to look closely at changes made to the script that was used during
My Fair Lady
’s rehearsals. What begins to emerge is a shift of focus, even this late in the day, from a show depicting a conventional Broadway romance to a story with a much more ambiguous center. Lerner went out of his way to make the relationship between Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins as ambiguous as possible, and a great many of the changes to
the script made during the final weeks before the show opened in previews served this specific purpose.
Chapters 4
,
5
, and
6
point toward the same purpose in the development of the score. I examine in great detail the unusual wealth of music manuscript material available for
My Fair Lady
in the Library of Congress’s Frederick Loewe and (in particular) Warner-Chappell Collections, which contain everything from the composer’s sketches for unused songs to the dance arranger’s scores for the cut ballet. By showing the relationships between different manuscripts, I aim to give a flavor of how much of a collaboration the development of a Broadway musical’s score is; it involves arrangers and orchestrators in as much of an authorial role as the composer is, though there is no doubt that Loewe took a keen interest in everything that was being written and orchestrated. Again, various changes of lyric hint at an obscuring of the Higgins-Eliza relationship (though, sadly, Lerner destroyed all his lyric sketches for the show, depriving us of a complete portrait of the lyrics’ composition), as do the rejection of numerous conventional love songs well before they reached even the rehearsal process. In
chapter 7
I examine the musical’s complex legacy on stage, which has been unusual in the number of attempts to re-create the original production. Finally, in
chapter 8
I visit some of the secondary literature on the show and in particular examine the nature of the ambiguous relationship between Eliza and Higgins. Just as some of the famous stories about the show are not included in the opening chapters, I do not scrutinize the show from every possible angle here, but rather hope to open up the debate for the future.

If
My Fair Lady
’s primary message is that education can change your life, I certainly owe a debt of gratitude to the numerous people who have taught me everything I know. First, thanks are due to the librarians at the many archives I visited, including Charles Perrier at the New York Public Library; Harry Miller and the staff at the Wisconsin Historical Society; the staff at Yale University Library; the Special Collections Librarian at St John’s College, Cambridge; Ned Comstock at USC; and most especially Mark Eden Horowitz, Walter Zvonchenko, and their colleagues at the Music and Theatre Divisions of the Library of Congress. Mark’s generosity with his time and help knows no bounds, and I have benefited both from his intimate acquaintance with his collections and his extraordinary knowledge of the musical theatre in general. His friendship has been a guiding force of this book.

Special thanks go to Jerold Couture of the Loewe estate and David Grossberg of the Lerner estate: by giving me permission to copy original musical materials they have allowed me to go into far more depth with this study than would otherwise have been the case, as well as lending support and
enthusiasm along the way. Alan Jay Lerner material is reproduced by permission of the copyright owners, the estate of Alan Jay Lerner and family. Thanks to Alfred Music and Warner-Chappell for allowing me to publish extracts from the score. Quotations from the papers of Herman Levin are reproduced by kind permission of his daughter, Gabrielle Kraft. Passages from Hanya Holm’s notes are used with permission of the estate of Hanya Holm, thanks to her granddaughter, Karen M. Trautlein. Quotations from Theresa Helburn’s papers are used with thanks to the family of her niece, Margaret Kocher. Material from Sir Cecil Beaton’s diary is reproduced by kind permission of Hugo Vickers, Beaton’s Literary Executor. Many thanks are also due to Rosaria Sinisi for allowing me to reproduce passages from Oliver Smith’s letters.

I’m honored to count Liz Robertson (Lerner’s widow) as a close friend and enthusiastic supporter. Helpful hints about the Theatre Guild Collection at Yale came from Tim Carter of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I’m also grateful to the distinguished Broadway orchestrator, composer, and conductor Larry Blank for sharing his years of experience and giving me the benefit of his wisdom and musicianship, not to mention his friendship. The staff of the Music Department at King’s College, London, have been supportive throughout my seven-year education there, and thanks are due especially to John Deathridge and Christopher Wintle. Ever since attending his lectures on Mozart and eighteenth-century music performance practice as an undergraduate, I have admired and been inspired by the scholarship of my PhD supervisor, Cliff Eisen. Without question, by coaxing me into following his footsteps down the path of primary research (albeit in the opposite direction across the Atlantic) he enabled me to make my doctoral dissertation, and its adaptation into this book, a much more rigorous study than it would have been, while his encouragement and care at every stage have been invaluable. I’m also grateful to Stephen Banfield and Nigel Simeone, distinguished scholars in this field, for their helpful comments on my dissertation during my doctoral viva. More recently, I am grateful to my new colleagues at the University of Sheffield for their support of my research.

At Oxford University Press, I have to thank Norm Hirschy from the bottom of my heart for being so extraordinarily kind and patient throughout the publication process. In spite of my extreme naivety on the subject of publishing books, Norm has always been quick to answer all my questions (many of them incredibly mundane), thoughtful in his responses, supportive when difficult decisions had to be made, and generally a dream to deal with. No less important to this process has been Geoffrey Block, who is not only the most important scholar in the field of American musicals but also a talented and
inspiring editor for this series. It has been a wonderful experience for me, and I’m touched that Geoffrey and Norm have put so much effort into helping me bring this book to fruition. Thanks, too, are due to the three anonymous reviewers, my copy editor, and the entire production team at Oxford.

Of my friends, particular thanks are due to: Tracy and Darren Bryant; Rex Bunnett and the late John Muir; Richard C. Norton and Gary Schocker; Elliot J. Cohen; Michael Feinstein; Ethan Mordden; Ian Marshall Fisher; Larry Moore; Terry and Sue Broomfield; Sir Cameron Mackintosh; Sir Tim Rice; my close friends Dorothy and Michael Bradley, Lynne Huang, Marina Romani, and Arlene Tomlinson; Richard Tay, who has been an especially strong supporter and dear friend; and members of my family, including my brother Alistair and his partner Natallia, and my wonderfully supportive Auntie Lin and Uncle John. Special thanks are due to my beloved, long-suffering partner, Lawrence Broomfield, who is the foundation of all my successes. Nevertheless, I owe everything to my parents. By introducing me to
The Sound of Music
and
My Fair Lady
at the age of four, they opened a window into a whole new world, and without their generosity, love, and care I would never have been exposed to such a wealth of culture throughout my life, understood the value of education, or become the person I am today. This book is dedicated to them.

LOVERLY

The Pygmalion myth has its roots in classical Greek legend. Ovid tells us (in Dryden’s translation of
Metamorphoses
) that Pygmalion “loathing their lascivious life, / Abhorr’d all womankind, but most a wife: / So single chose to live, and shunn’d to wed, / Well pleas’d to want a consort of his bed.”
¹
The misogynist Pygmalion is a sculptor, and in spite of scorning women in general his “fear of idleness” induces him to carve a beautiful maiden out of ivory. Pleased with his work, Pygmalion “commends, admires, / Adores; and last, the thing ador’d, desires.” This neat progression from feeling pride in the product of his work to finding it an object of desire culminates in Pygmalion’s prayer to Venus, begging her to make the statue come to life. The goddess takes pity on Pygmalion and blesses the union of the sculptor and his creation by granting them a son, Paphos. Later versions refer to the sculpture as Galatea, while in his 1767 retelling Goethe calls her Elise, based on variations of the story of Dido (Elissa). The myth was of interest to visual artists (Rodin, Goya), inspired numerous works of literature (from William Morris’s “Earthly Paradise” to Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstein
) and was the subject of operas by Rameau, Cherubini, and Donizetti, as well as Kurt Weill’s 1943 musical
One Touch of Venus
. Yet its most famous incarnation will probably always be George Bernard Shaw’s 1913 play,
Pygmalion
, and the latter’s adaptation into the musical
My Fair Lady
.