Variety (January 1959)

January 7, 1959 Fifty-third t^^RIETY Anniversary LEGITIMATE 259 Globe-Trotting Stage Director Debunking Cliche That Music Is IntT Language By PETER GRADENWITT Tel Aviv. Music is always said to be a universal language, loved by all and comprehensible to everyone around the world, a language that knows no race — no frontier. Do you be¬ lieve that is really so? I don’t. The music of nationalistic minded composers of one country is not easily under¬ stood • by musicians and listeners in others. The music of the Western wTorld seems boring, devoid of sense and meaning, even ugly to Orientals, while the music of the Near and Far Eastern countries is pronounced to be monotonous and nerve-wracking by most Westerners, while it provides inspiration to the people of the coun¬ tries cultivating this music. Or take opera, the work? of the German composer Richard Wagner sound silly if sung to Italian transla¬ tion, while Mozart’s musical dramas and comedies to Italian words lose . much of their musical charm when sung in English or German translations. How difficult it is to transplant a musical work from one continent to another was again shown this year at Salzburg. A musical creation which had set music critics in the U.S. alight with enthusiasm and pronounced a landmark in modern opera, was dismissed unanimous¬ ly by the leading music critics of Europe after its hav¬ ing crossed the ocean. “ Vanessa,” by Menotti and Sam. uel Barber, extremely successful at its Met premiere last January, was a flop at the Festival House in Salzburg. Why? Is it a matter of standards of perception, or criticism? Can a European audience be supposed hot to un¬ derstand American art? Or do the reasons lie elsewhere? I believe that not only educational or critical back¬ ground, but the1 entire operatic scene can provide the an¬ swer. An operatic roundup of European centers of opera shows what “modern opera” means in Europe and to Eu¬ ropeans today. This is what Western Europeans heard, of opera dur¬ ing the past 18 months. The summer festivals of 1957 presented new operas ranging from biblical drama to modern psychological work, from medieval philosophy and witch-burning to 18th century burlesque, and from Far Eastern folklore to Russian farce. 1958 added to this: period comedy and a number of dramatic cantatas stylistically related to the opera form. _ ' | _ New Hindemith Work _ | A much discussed work was “Harmony of the World,” by Paul Hindemith, a musical drama based on the life, times, thoughts and struggle of Johannes Kepler, the revolutionary astronomer-philosopher at the threshhold of a new age. The real subject here was the bitter strug¬ gle of an independent man; deep philosophical medita¬ tion in the sense of religion, of life and of science con¬ cerns the composer, who also wrote his own libretto. Drama and music try to prove that music must be gov¬ erned by the same principles that rule the movements and relations of planets and stars; the opera ends with a hypothesis in which the characters take their place on the firmament and are identified with the planets and their courses. In “The Witch of Passau,” by the Eastern German composer, Ottmar Gerster, a stoty is told from the times of the peasants’ war in medieval Germany. This work was performed in the East Berlin State. Opera, and was demonstratively meant to draw parallels to the ideology of the Eastern European world. In a lighter field we had the Salzburg premiere of “School for Wives,” adapted by Heinrich Strobel from Moliere and set to music by Rolf Liebermann. Here, we witnessed the opposite to what was noted with regard to “Vanessa.” The Liebermann operatic comedy, in its oneact version, as commissioned by Louisville, had been a flop in the U.S. The full scale, enlarged Salzburg ver¬ sion had an enthusiastic success, and has proved a great hit with Western European stages during the last year, when it was widely performed. It was felt that old-world European charm and modern spirit were united here to the greatest advantage, and this writer was particularly struck by the clever use of “Molinere himself” as pro¬ tagonist in his own play; he watches his modernistic play from a box in the theatre, and later steps on to the stage and acts himself. These are the types of musical dramas and comic op¬ eras we heard in Europe in the last 18 months. Add to these, the widely performed musical drama “Wozzek,” by Alban Berg, the experimental operas by Krenek and Britten, the dramatic cantatas by Luigi Nono and Klebe, the electronic cantata by K. H. Stockhausen — among many other works — and you will feel that Europe is fully alive to the problems of the modern theatre in a modern world. It cannot be denied, on the other hand, that the ever growing number of theatres, especially in ‘Western Ger¬ many, gives a great impulse to the composers, and that the competitive desire of directors to defeat his fellow directors with the number of premieres presented by him as well as by the daring of his choice contributes no lit¬ tle to a constant search for the new and novel for its owu sake. In the light of this, I was not greatly astonished that “Vanessa” did not make any impact on European audi¬ ences and critics; public and critics in Salzburg could detect neither greatness nor novelty in the opera, and failed to understand what the critics on the other side of the ocean had found distinctly American in the score. Knowing the nature of the limits of opera making in the U.S., this writer could well assess the importance of this full-scale opera in American musical history; on the other hand, 1 was also painfully aware of the manifold literary “loans” from Scandinavian and Austrian sources and the musical affinity with operas of many decades ago. Music should be further developed as a cultural link . and most valuable exchange asset between people, na¬ tions and continents, but let’s give up the notion that it is an international language whose standards, meaning and significance are the same the world over. When Chastity Failed And Other Stories By EDWARD MANGUM Other directors may have staged more shows, made more money or become more famous, but they certainly haven’t had more fun. During the past 22 years, half my life, I’ve coaxed actors around the stage in 100 shows in theatres half a' world apart (I’ve never reached Broadway, but not be¬ cause I’m hard to get); and I’ve had a hell of a good time doing it. While you’re reading this, if all works out in this most impossible of all possibly worlds, I should be ar¬ riving in Milan, Italy to stage “Pa¬ jama Game” with a group of Euro¬ pean actors, singers and dancers, the show to open late in February for a three-month tour of Italy and several other countries on the Continent. It’s Edward Maneum ,Q be ^ Fnp„ch Just a year ago I was arriving in Frankfurt am Main to direct my first German production, Marc Connelly’s “The Green Pastures,” which opened last April at the Staedtische Buehnen, one of Germany’s top governmentsupported theatres. It was the first white-face staging of the play ever attempted. Also during 1957 I was sweating out a production of "Oklahoma” in Ankara, Turkey. The orchestrations had been missent to Beirut, Lebanon, where a different kind of show, without music, was in the making. “Oklahoma” was played in English with a mixed cast of Turks and Americans and a scattering of. Germans and Britishers. This was followed by “Visit to a Small Planet” in Turkish with an all-Turkish cast, save for a cat whose mother was Persian. And all this started in Honolulu just because some¬ one closed a show of mine on moral grounds! j_ _ A Chinese ‘Caesar’ _ _ [ Let’s go to Hawaii for a moment. I arrived in the Islands in May 1952 after having managed the Arena Stage in Washington. D.C., for its first two years. (I’d also had fun “founding” the Arena with 30 other people.) I had been invited to Honolulu to take charge of a theatre that was in bad shape financially. I began to dig for the causes of this problem and came up with an interesting fact. Only a small percentage of Oahu’s 50,000 Occidental population was attending the theatre’s productions, most of which were Broadway drawing-room comedies played by Occidental actors. The predominately Oriental com¬ munity was staying away. It . felt unwanted and was certainly not used. The situation called for drastic action for social if not for financial reasons. So I staged Hawaii's first production of “Julius Caesar,” probably as it’s never been staged before. Caesar .was a Chinese, Cassius a Japanese, Brutus a Filipino, Casca a Korean, Lucius an Hawaiian. (I use national names to denote family ancestry. All were Americans . Hawaii is as American as Arkansas and a good deal more demo¬ cratic.) In the upper echelon of roles only Anthony was Caucasian, and he was Jewish. Cinna the Poet, the inno¬ cent bystander murdered by the mob, was a Negro. The mob that murdered him, rope and all, was White. Needless to say, everything was there to break down the barriers. Only a push was required. This push came in the form of two letters written to the editors of the two major dailies in Honolulu. The letters said that Mangum was mad, that he should resign or re-cast the play: Orientals could never play Shakespeare. The day after the letters appeared on the editorial pages of the two papers, the Advertiser and the StarBulletin were flooded with replies by mail and phone. Within two days, four solid columns in one paper were filled with letters to the editor protesting the attitude of the original correspondents. This continued for a full week. We had a cause celebre on our hands and we revelled in it. The show opened to a packed house. The audience was amazed. The reviews were great. The Orientals came. The barriers were down. They are still down. i have been accused by my friends (all three of them, to be exact) of having written or at least of having in¬ spired those first two letters of protest. I have always denied this. But time has mellowed me, and I do not wish some day to face my Maker with this burden upon my conscience. So I will answer, now. They were inspired. |_ _ . Love Laughs at Locksmiths _ [ “Caesar” was followed by “Brigadoon,” the first musical ever to be done in Hawaii, and the theatre began to prosper. But I hadn’t had enough. I decided to have more fun, and that was my undoing. I staged “The Twin Menaechmi.” This Plautus play* is' harmless enough, being the 2.000year old story of a .virile Roman male, Menaechmus by name, who lives with Ms shrewish wife on one side of the street but maintains .a girl friend on the other side. Whenever Ms wife throws him out. Of the house, Menaechmus merely crosses the street and — well, you under¬ stand these things. . Shakespeare saw the play’s latent possibilities and turned it into “A Comedy of Errors,” and Abbott, Rodgers and -Hart Carried it a step further into “The Boys from Syracuse;” ' What did our man Mangum do that these illustrious ' men had failed to do? He put Menaechmus in a Chastity belt; For the first time on the' American" stage, to my knowl¬ edge, an actor paraded around before aik audience with a huge padlocked .'Chastity belt protecting his integrity. Menaechmus couldn’t make love to his girl friend: his wife had the key tucked safely away in the depths of her ample bosom. Throughout the entire play, Men¬ aechmus, his girl friend, Erotium, and his parasite, Brush, NEXT STAND -THE MOON — — By ELLIOTT NUGENT — — Building and Painting of sets, Lighting fixtures. Props and furniture, Costumes, Theatre guarantees. Rehearsal expenses. Preliminary advertising, Director’s fee, Insuf?.nc®,’ ” -^ese and a dozen more subheadings make up the budget for anyone who wishes to produce a play or a musical. But at the end come the two items which are most, dif¬ ficult to estimate, and most import¬ ant. 1 refer to “Reserve for out-of¬ town tryout losses” and “Reserve re¬ maining after New York opening.” Now in case this sounds like a re¬ port intended for the show biz sec¬ tion of the Association of Certified Pubhc Accountants, and therefore Elliott Nugent limited interest to you. Dear .n, . Tr Reader, let me say that at present about 47 ~c of Variety readers are either: 1. Producers themselves (50% of all Columbia stu¬ dents seem to be producers), 2. “Investors” in at least one production, 3. Stockholders or partners in one of several syn¬ dicates which help finance plays, 4. People with friends who want them to invest 5. People with money who would like to be invest¬ ors, or 6. People without money who would like to be producers. t If you do not belong to any of these six classes you probably belong to Class 7. Which is people who w’ould rather trv to fill an inside straight than to buy into “My Fair Lady” before they know it is “My Fair Lady.” TMs class includes the remaining 53 % of readers. Now to return to those two “Reserve” figures at the bottom of the budget: who knows how much a show can make or lose during, let us say, four days in New Haven and two weeks in Boston or Philadelphia? Nobody. But most experienced producers know that it is not unusual to lose from $20,000-$30,000 during this tryout period, and one can still have a hit in New York. Conversely, good business diming the tryout, while encouraging, -does not guarantee New York success or profit. Quite often the losses during trycut reduce the bankroll behind the play to such an extent that only a clean sweep of the critics with immediate boxGffiee demand can produce a run. Any moderation in first night acclaim means that the au¬ thor and the actors will not have a chance to find the au¬ dience which might support a particular play unless the producer is prepared for an expensive advertising cam¬ paign, with perhaps some more operating losses during the several weeks in which he hopes to build up public support. So the thought occurs— “Why go out-of-town at all?” We all know the two answers: first, to improve the script by cuts and rewriting and. second, to polish perform¬ ances. Yet almost as many plays are damaged by out-of-town rewrites as are improved. As to performances, the almighty critics place so much emphasis upon the author’s work and so little uoon the actors’ that expert acting and direction are taken for granted. Even expert or “workmanlike” writing wins no huzzas if the play has ary organic weakness to the firstnight appraisers. During the depression thirties most of the plays opened “cold,” or after two or three previews. The thea¬ tre could not afford tryouts and had many successes with¬ out them. By this time I may have convinced you. Dear Reader, that pre-Broadway tryouts are for the hidebound fol¬ lower of custom only, and that any producer with a logi¬ cal mind, some elementary knowledge of arithmetic, and a realistic view of gambling percentages will henceforth forget them. But don’t count me in. When I do a show I still like to do it the hard way. My ideal spot to open a new ven¬ ture is the Luna Theatre, Venusside-on-Spots, The Moon, It wTon’t be long now until we can book it. tried to break open that lock. From hairpin and nailfile, the three moved on to hammer and hacksaw and finally to buzZsaw and pneumatic drill, all to no avail. Menaechmus’ position became more frantic as the paly progressed, and not only because he was denied the pleasure of Erotium’s favors. There was an even more pressing urge which could not be satisfied. Most of the opening night audience loved the play, and the Advertisers reviewer the next morning said it was great sophisticated entertainment. The Star-Bulle¬ tin, howrever, was more reserved, mirroring the feelings of the Islands’ while aristocracy which is descended from New England missionary stock. In a matter of hours, a meeting of the theatre’s board of directors was called and, in solemn deliberation, it voted to close the show. When informed of the board’s action (I was in the hospital at the time being examined for ulcers), I promptly hissed through clenched teeth that the theatre could find itself another director for the following season. ■ The American National Theatre & Academy engaged me shortly thereafter to make a survey of Asia for its International Cultural Exchange Program, which is ad¬ ministered by ANTA for the Dept, of State. I’ve made three trips around the world for ANTA, visiting every country in Asia, except Red China, and several European countries. Thai’s v.dien the invitations came to return last fall a year ago to Turkey and Germany. I’ve also been invited to Japan, India, France. Poland and Spain. I hope I can go. It’s great fun.