The Timeless Charm of Stephen Sondheim



There was a time not too long ago when I was on the verge of finally seeing Company. I’m talking about a time when the world was friendlier, less associated with a pandemic that threatened to wipe out our loved ones for no discernible reason. It was a moment in time where 2020 was looking to be one of the most exciting years on record, what with the one-two punch of In the Heights (2020) and West Side Story (2020) giving us reason to dance again. Meanwhile, in my little corner of the world, The Long Beach Playhouse was running through a great season of programming. 

I had seen Assassins there about two years ago and fell in love with it. I wanted to replicate the magic of seeing Stephen Sondheim on stage, acted out by a great local cast of actors who bring to life these memorable characters. This was a time when the world functioned as it normally did, and I was so excited to see Company for my birthday. But, as the Broadway community experienced around the same time, the world of theater is ceasing operations for the immediate future. My plans, which had been largely anticipated for a year now, are likely not going to happen (I'm also missing Cat on a Hot Tin Roof because of COVID-19).

I say this in light of two things relevant to today. The first is the news that 50 years ago tonight, New York was graced with the premiere production of the show. They got to witness “the first concept musical” and discover what the more mature and complicated realm of Sondheim would look like. I don’t know that anyone was ready for that side of him especially coming off of two misfires (Anyone Can Whistle and Do I Hear a Waltz?) and three more upbeat shows (West Side Story, Gypsy, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum). There was nuance and heartache about growing older, creating this new language for him that would only grow with Sweeney Todd, Merrily We Roll Along, and even Into the Woods. This was the moment where Sondheim became Sondheim.

It’s also important to remember the show on this date because it marks the latest Broadway-inspired event to be streamed on YouTube. The event is called Take Me To The World: A Sondheim 90th Birthday Celebration, which is self-explanatory in nature. Several of Broadway’s finest will be coming together to pay tribute to a man who redefined theater and created some of the medium’s greatest shows. If you’re like me, you’re eagerly anticipating Mandy Patinkin breaking out into a little Sunday in the Park with George. There are so many small things, even if this qualifies as the umpteenth time that we’re recognizing Sondheim (just check YouTube for previous commemorative ceremonies).

Even then, I feel the need to elaborate on why I love Sondheim. I don’t just list him among my favorite people involved with theater. I think of him like a writer, whose every work has become some form of a novel, worth dissecting the lyrical wit and emotional depth of every passage. I wish that I could write as intellectually as he does, managing to make every moment crucial. As I find myself playing A Little Night Music on a loop, I recognize his gift also as a composer, managing to find the musical complexity of a waltz in the human experience. If you want to go further, the podcast Putting It Together is a great podcast that goes show-by-show and dissects his lyrics in ways that only enhances your enjoyment of his work.

I do understand that there are two sides to the term musical theater. As I saw Lindsay Ellis note on Twitter, there are two people in particular who help to define our differing needs (and they share a birthday!). For musicals, the idea of big emotions and energy, you turn to Andrew Lloyd Webber who remains divisive in everything that he does. He didn’t know a stage that he couldn’t fill with awe-inspiring spectacle. On the other side is Sondheim, whose theater is more akin to a drama, relying on a focus to not just the lyrics, but also the melody to guide our understanding of the character. Webber has been more transparent during the pandemic, launching his Show Must Go On series to highlight his shows. He even has cute moments that he espouses while on a piano to give the crowd that Broadway boost. 


Then again, Sondheim has always been more of the recluse, the intellectual who likes time to himself to think out his next project. Regardless of him turning 90, you understand why he hasn’t been as public or flamboyant. His work speaks for itself, and that’s what I love about breaking into one of his shows for the first time. It’s often largely through the Original Broadway Cast Recording, as there’s something about that perspective that I enjoy most. Even then, I can’t exactly tell you what the stories are about after a few listens. It’s what initially turned me off of Assassins, but I couldn’t deny that it was a whole lot of fun to listen to.

Based on what I’ve seen onstage, Sweeney Todd is my personal favorite. That seems like an easy answer, especially given that it has become one of the most acclaimed musicals in history. You’re as amazed by the story as you are the singers’ ability to even get through the lyrical maze that Sondheim has set up. There are even things in the melodies that feel like they exist just to drive the listener mad. I love this attention to detail and there are infinite things to admire about this story, such as his ability to rhyme piss with piss three times in a row and make it kill as a joke.

However, I wanted to talk about why I was looking forward to Company. Unlike a lot of shows lately, I am preserving my knowledge of the story until I see it on stage. I am sure that there are recorded versions out there worth plundering over, but I envision in my head what the show is like. I see the choreography as actors travel the stage, perfecting “Not Getting Married Today.” How? I don’t know. Whatever it may be, I wonder what it’s like to finally put context to the songs and have it mean something richer.

For me, Company has become something special in recent years. As most people listening to the music will relate to, it’s initially an uninteresting show. I still remember Fosse/Verdon poking fun at Sondheim, who was “writing a musical about marriage” and Paddy Chayefsky laughing it off. On the surface, it is a bit baffling when you look at the bigger canon of music. Musicals were supposed to be about these big emotions and broad themes, especially by 1970 when you’re coming off of stuff like The Music Man and The Man of La Mancha. These weren’t shows about settling down with a wife and kid. This was about adventure and excitement.


But, as you reach a certain phase of your life, it becomes clear. Few things are as inevitable as the feeling settling in that you’re no longer young, capable of being as emotionally independent as you once were. It’s why you can watch Marriage Story (2020) and find Adam Driver singing “Being Alive” and understand his angst. Sondheim wanted to get to the core of the human experience, and that included a sense of isolation that we sometimes face when we look around and see the world having a better time without us. We may be personally happy and content with our place in life, but at what cost? 

It creates the sense that we’ll all die alone, and there’s a desire to escape that feeling. I’m not saying that the show is suicidal (remember, I don’t know the story too well), but it’s a feeling that I began to recognize around 28 and continue to struggle with. There’s a maturity in the lyrics that overwhelm you if you’re in the right mood. This isn’t a pomp and circumstance show, but one that forces us to deal with the tough issues in life. It just so happens to have some of the liveliest music that Sondheim wrote to that point, making a desire to have Bobby come on over for dinner sound perverse by the end.

When you get down to it, I want to call Company my favorite Sondheim musical because I recognize how personal it is. If you had to judge any one show as reflecting my personality and aesthetic as an artist, it would be this. I would even go so far as to say that it has one of the best collective soundtracks of his entire career, with whole months finding “The Little Things You Do Together” stuck in my head. I wish that I understood why, but this show is infectious. Every small couplet amuses me, but I am a full picture guy when it comes to shows. I am as much judging a show off of music as I am story and characters. If one suffers, I’m less likely to love it. For instance, the music of Cats might be fun but the story has a frustrating level of nonsense. Company has everything in place to be perfect, but I will be gutted if the story turns out to be terrible.

Of course, I have been spending a large portion of the quarantine consuming musical theater in various forms. This includes watching the James Lapine-directed versions of Sunday in the Park with George and Into the Woods. I will tell you, they are magnificent examples of how to shoot a stage, and they’re currently free on YouTube. They capture the show in their purest forms with some of the best-assembled casts and I think do plenty to capture the answer “What makes Sondheim so special?” It’s right there, waiting for you to discover it. I also recommend tracking down Original Cast Album: Company (1970) if you want to extend the visual aid of this piece.


Later today, I will be cooking up dinner and getting the Livestream set up to watch these stars pay tribute to one of theater’s most important voices. Part of me is underwhelmed at the idea of basically watching people sing from the comfort of their own living room, but I also recognize that it’s another chance to remember things that make life better. Musicals have the power to cheer us up on a cloudy day, and I have been using them with excessive force lately to keep the sorrows away. 

I think in the grand scheme of things that the reason that Sondheim resonates with me is not just his ability to write a clever rhyme. Many of the finest lyricists have been able to do that. It’s his ability to engage with deeper emotion and human understanding, and nowhere do I connect with that more than in Company. I was wanting to finally understand what he saw in the music after years of seeing it my way, thinking of “Another Hundred People” as something I feel wandering a crowded street. I can’t wait to engage with it on a more personal level. 

But then again, that’s the magic of Sondheim. His music has the ability to be interpreted in so many ways outside of his work. It’s why “Send in the Clowns” has become a pop standard. He gets to the human condition a lot quicker than just about anyone else. It’s more than the way that he challenges performers, making theater into an interactive experience where you’re as marveled by people’s ability to sing as you are the orchestra staying in time. 

I suppose as someone who just loves understanding what we consume on a more personal level, he has served as the big brain to Broadway’s charm. There may be shows that qualify as more fun, but few do it like him. You come out the other end having experienced something great, something original, and even entertaining. It’s why I’m disappointed to not be seeing Company this summer but will settle for celebrating it instead tonight with people who feel similar. We all have Sondheim stories, and I can’t wait to hear them all. If you have one, feel free to share yours, whether it be something personal or what your favorite show/song is. There’s so much to explore, so why not make the most of it.

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