An Excerpt from
A Million Miles from Broadway:
The Globalization of Musical Theatre
A forthcoming book from Mel Atkey
Preface: A Search for Signs of Life
As I walked through the Opéra Quarter in Paris, I was looking for the birthplace of the modern musical. "In Paris? The graveyard of musicals? Pas possible! Surely you mean New York! Or London! Or Vienna!" No, I mean Paris.
Just around the corner from the Quatre Septembre Métro station, up the Rue Monsigny, lies the Théâtre des Bouffes-Parisiennes. Dating from 1826, it was opened by Louis Comte (1783-1859), a ventriloquist and director of the École de Comédiens, a theatre for children. However, it was the man with whom Comte’s son Charles would go into business almost thirty years later that would make this place special. His name was Jacques Offenbach. The year was 1858 and the show that would change the face of musical theatre forever (and have people dancing the can-can in the aisles) was called Orphée aux Enfers – "Orpheus in the Underworld".
Paris was, at the time, the cultural capital of the Western world, and as the Belle Epoque approached, things would only get better. The people who invented champagne also invented the cabarets where audiences could sip it. And of course, the Folies-Bergère and the Moulin Rouge. And "comédie-musicale" – musical comedy. A revolution was in the air – and it spread from Paris to Vienna, Berlin, London, New York and the world.
Yes, musical theatre is revolutionary. Music is a direct conduit to the human heart, and there is no more powerful force and nothing bolder or more radical than splashing that across a stage. The American theatre critic Brooks Atkinson said, "I have sometimes wondered whether it is not a more genuine and comprehensive form of theater than the spoken drama… It is the one element of poetry left in a form of entertainment that was all poetry originally". It has a great tradition, yet it continues to break new ground. Like jazz, it has a devout following of highly literate enthusiasts. Of course, like any art form, there are camp and tacky elements, to be sure – some might cringe at the idea of somebody bearing his soul in song. Some might even think it’s kitsch, but at its core, it is the most demanding of performing art forms.
One of the reasons why musical theatre spread so quickly and remains so popular is that music is a universal language. (You need only to watch Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind to understand that: apparently, people on other planets use the teaching methods of the Hungarian composer Zoltan Kodaly to communicate with the inhabitants of other worlds.) I believe that music is hardwired into us. It exists, in some form, in every culture. Some say that it stems from the beating of the heart, our natural metronome.
Yet, music also has regional characteristics. Edward Elgar is said to be quintessentially English, while Sergei Prokofiev is unmistakably Russian and George Gershwin uniquely American. (Or so we assume.) Musical styles can evoke a sense of place and time. It hardly matters that the music may not actually be indigenous to that place. American music is, for the most part, a fusion of European and African forms. What gives it that unique imprint? Some people argue that even instrumental music is influenced by language in its rhythm and accent.
Musical theatre is a form that is so linked in the public’s mind with Broadway that it is sometimes referred to as the "American Musical Theatre". Of course, the American musical was the child of a European parent. What is not so widely understood is that the parent had other children as well, and thereby the American musical has siblings. In fact, the late Peter Stone, a former president of the Dramatists Guild and a noted Broadway librettist, once claimed that no musical theatre existed outside of New York City. (Which is a little like saying that the English language is not spoken outside of London.)
With all due respect to the late Mr. Stone, musical theatre does indeed exist outside of New York. I’m not talking about the many franchised versions of Fiddler on the Roof and Grease that have played everywhere from Tel Aviv to Abu Dabi. I’m referring to indigenous musical theatre created in places other than New York by people other than New Yorkers and drawing on traditions other than those of Broadway. Whether in the old centres of Paris, Berlin and Vienna, or the newer centres of Toronto and Melbourne, or even in Singapore, Japan and South Africa, it is – and always has been – an international form. (In fact, the non-musical is a nineteenth century invention.)
This is not in any sense anti-New York or anti-American. It’s just that the lights of Broadway are so bright that it’s often difficult to see anything else. The fact is that the world is changing, and its centre of gravity is shifting. "At the military and political level, we still live in a unipolar [i.e. US dominated] world," says Fareed Zakaria, author of The Post-American World. "But along every other dimension – industrial, financial, social, cultural – the distribution of power is shifting, moving away from American dominance. In terms of war and peace, economics and business, ideas and art, this will produce a landscape that is quite different from the one we have lived in until now – one defined and directed from many places and by many peoples."
As we move into this new global musical world, it is important to understand its heritage. I talk to all too many young actors and actresses, straight out of stage school, who seem to think that musical theatre began with Les Misérables, whereas the truth is that global musical theatre has virtually always existed. And so, I would like to look at the likes of Gershwin, Sondheim, Kander and Ebb and others in a broader context – alongside those of Lionel Bart, André Messager, Reynaldo Hahn, Maurice Yvain, Mbongeni Ngema, Marguerite Monnot and Kurt Weill, and a host of other songwriters whose names may not be familiar. We study the craft of the great Broadway writers and learn from them, but we do not attempt to copy their worldview.
As I began my research for this book, one of my most startling discoveries was the extent to which the development of popular musical theatre coincided with the development of democracy. John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera was a political satire. Mozart’s The Magic Flute which premiered only two years after the French Revolution, was written for the masses. Gilbert and Sullivan poked fun at the upper classes and those in authority. It is hardly surprising that the Americans embraced the form so enthusiastically – but they were not the only ones. Musical comedy and cabaret flourished in Weimar Berlin (but not under the Nazis, who had no sense of humour) and in late 19th century Paris. Musicals – as opposed to most opera – are written and composed in the vernacular, and are accessible to the masses. What Mozart (and after him, Kurt Weill and Leonard Bernstein) sought to do was to educate those masses, and to bring sophisticated musical and dramatic forms to as wide an audience as possible.
So, if it’s true that musical theatre developed alongside democracy, then why has it lost its leading role in Western culture? In the 1950s, rock and roll usurped the musical as the "vernacular" form. It became the music of the streets, the voice of protest. (It was an uneasy coalition between the kids who bought the records and made the music, and the businessmen who saw a market niche and exploited it.) On the other hand, the musical sought a rapprochement with opera. Some say that the musical failed to keep up with the times. There may be some truth to that claim, but I also believe that popular music has declined in craftsmanship. Rock and roll has seldom fulfilled Mozart’s aim to elevate the tastes of the masses. A few shows have attempted to combine rock and roll with sophistication, but usually the one defeated the other.
I feel I should, at this point, explain a little bit about my background. This is not some cranky old reactionary complaining about the encroachment of modernity. On the contrary, I am a baby boomer who grew up in Vancouver in the nineteen sixties and seventies. In high school, I listened to Elton John, Rick Wakeman, the Beatles, even The Who. At the time, I thought electric basses were modern, and double basses old-fashioned. My first exposure to musical theatre was through movies like Oliver! and Fiddler on the Roof. The first professional stage show I ever saw was Anne of Green Gables – the Musical. Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar were for me seminal musicals (and Stephen Schwartz remains to this day a mentor). But, as I grew older, my tastes expanded. Like everybody else in this field, I discovered Sondheim. However, not being an American, I saw it all through a foreigners eyes. Like The Drowsy Chaperone’s "Man in Chair" character, I knew the shows through their cast albums. Of course, since New York is often portrayed as the centre of sophistication and places like Vancouver as an "out-of-town" hinterland, it took many years for me to realise that this "outsider" perspective was a valid one.
In the end, I found that most rock music let me down. Ultimately, I longed to hear sharp, well-written songs of great passion and depth of feeling. My personal belief is that musical theatre is at its best when it combines intelligence with accessibility. A clever musician can make a piece of music interesting by making it more complex. Only a brilliant composer can make it interesting and make it sound simple. (I place Leonard Bernstein and George Gershwin in this category.)
I should also state my definition of musical theatre. It includes book musicals, revues, operettas, some operas and a fair chunk of cabaret. Some may argue that it is "inaccurate" to call The Magic Flute, Carmen and La Fille du Regiment "musicals". However, none could be termed "grand operas" (at least not in their original forms), and while it’s true that the modern term "musical" was not in use at the time, they were all written for a popular audience and by-and-large fit the definition of a musical. (And the fact that the term "record player" didn’t exist in Edison’s time doesn’t stop us from applying that term to the gramophone.) And for those who want to be really pedantic and argue that "cabaret" is not a branch of the musical theatre, I remind them that since the original Chat Noir did not have a vaulted roof, it was not technically a cabaret either. I further believe that those who insist on narrower definitions dislike the musical comedy form, and want to hem it in and make it behave itself. I do not apologise for my love of all things musical theatre.
There is another assumption made by some critics that some countries have "great" cultures and others have "lesser" ones. This is very central to imperial thinking. To me, "globalisation" does not have to mean "world conquest". On the contrary, it can mean that we engage with the world as equals. If a show has universal appeal, it does not mean that one culture has spread its tentacles to its neighbours and subjugated them, but rather that the neighbours are able to feel some sense of ownership or involvement in the work. I want to explore what that word "universal" does (and does not) mean. To me, it can suggest a single show such as Fiddler on the Roof that finds broad appeal in many different countries. It can also imply a place where we are able to experience work from other cultures and thereby broaden our own understanding. I believe that great cultures can take root anywhere, but that it takes work. The seeds are there, but they’re not always watered.
I should, at this point, stress that I am not, by profession, an academic. I am a writer of musicals. When I started out, I was told to study the works that went before me. This, it was assumed, meant the great Broadway songwriters. What I learned was that, while Jerome Kern and George Gershwin had studied and been influenced by the great European operettas and musical comedies, they yearned to create something that was more American. It was, for them, part of the long process of overcoming a cultural inferiority complex.
As a Canadian, this was something I could relate to. I also longed to hear my own culture represented. Therefore, I wanted to study the works of the past with the same objective. Inspired by the late composer Norman Campbell (Anne of Green Gables – The Musical), I began to study the history of musical theatre in my own country. The result of that study was Broadway North: The Dream of a Canadian Musical Theatre, published by Natural Heritage Books in 2006.
Then a curious thing happened. That book seemed to strike a chord with musical writers in Australia. I was featured on a Melbourne radio show called Broadway at Bedtime, and found that the situations for Canadians and Australians were uncannily similar. (In fact, perhaps surprisingly, Broadway North got some of its best reviews outside of Canada.)
I began to think about how the principles behind Broadway North might apply in a broader context. I could see that "universality" is as an idea that has two parts – establishing an individual (or national) identity, then sharing it with the world. The Irish playwright John Coulter, who immigrated to Canada in 1936 said, "What virtue is there in becoming specifically Canadian? Why not aim at the idea of internationalism in the theatre at least? I should reply that in my belief the way to internationalism in the theatre as in all else lies through the prior achievement of the greatest degree of nationalism. It is an organic growth outward from a core which is the individual himself, in this case, the individual playwright."
I am not interpreting nationalism in its somewhat charged political sense, nor as a purely ethnic identity. While I believe that musical forms are culturally rooted, I do not believe that they are racially tied. Therefore, while the roots of jazz may be found in African American culture, it is not – as some early French jazz critics thought – a "musique nègre". Neither is musical theatre an exclusively Jewish or gay form. It belongs to the world, but at the same time I do believe that the way to achieve universality is by being very specific, and to write about a world you know.
In his review of Broadway North, London director Ken Caswell wrote, "The idea that a musical is not a musical until it has been recognised by either of those giant arbiters of taste [New York and London] is, of course, idiotic; but that opinion certainly exists in New York and is voiced by some in London. The most important development should be that musicals are produced anywhere by people who really care about the musical art form and work to make something special."
Of course, there is some resistance to this worldview. The Romans would surely have scoffed at the idea (not that it was ever even suggested) that the Province of Britannia – inhabited by Druid worshipping Celts – would one day be the centre of the greatest empire the world has ever seen (and would create some of the greatest literature). In the same way, many New Yorkers look on other theatrical centres as "the road" or "out of town", and believe that their only relevance is as "hewers of wood" and "drawers of water". Some even believe that America is the end destination of history. Gallileo may have proven that the Earth is not the centre of the universe, yet five hundred years later some still believe that New York is. Every world-dominating power has believed this about themselves, and they have always been wrong.
What I find very revealing is that most books on the history of musical theatre consider the European traditions only up to the point that they were exported to America or Britain. (The several excellent books of Kurt Gänzl and Andrew Lamb are a notable exception to this.) The fact that musical comedy continued to prosper in Continental Europe right up until the advent of Fascism is barely treated as a footnote, yet to my thinking it is absolutely central. It is also proof that the musical was not an American invention.
Until the Second World War, there were not two centres for musical theatre, but at least half a dozen. In addition to New York and London, we had Paris, Vienna, Berlin and Budapest, among others. (And I’m not just talking about so-called operetta, but musical comedy.) Alan Jay Lerner, the librettist behind My Fair Lady said, "Broadway cannot live without the musical theatre, but the musical theatre can live without Broadway. After all, its first home was Paris and then Vienna and then London and then New York. So changes of address are not uncommon." I believe that musical theatre is evolving back toward being this kind of an international form again. Contrary to what Peter Stone said, musical theatre can happen any time, any place. "Writers and composers in other countries have made serious attempts to rival the creative spirits of the American musical theatre", wrote the late Broadway conductor Lehman Engel in 1981. "There seems to be no reason why they should not succeed." (In addition to his BMI musical theatre workshops in New York, Los Angeles and Nashville, he also held them in Toronto.)
What might those future addresses be? Sydney? Melbourne? Singapore? Tokyo? Buenos Aires? Capetown? Toronto? In recent years, Broadway has played host to Sarafina! (from South Africa), The Drowsy Chaperone (from Canada) and The Boy from Oz (from Australia). We now have something called World Music. Why not World Musical Theatre? After all, nineteenth century New York – in what the Europeans derisively referred to as "the colonies" – was a pretty unlikely place for anything of cultural importance to prosper. What the musical theatre requires is people with talent and the need to express themselves in drama and in song, and an atmosphere in which that talent can be nurtured. It also requires skill – which can be acquired.
Acquiring that skill – when you live and work away from the centres of New York and London – requires, I believe, that you study both the great international works and the forms that come out of your own environment. Therefore, like my previous book Broadway North, this book is part history, part manifesto. It is not an encyclopædia of facts. (On this subject, I am more interested in "truth" than in "facts", and the truth can be remarkably subjective.)
We should be aware of the works of the past, in order to create better works in the future. If one writes musicals in Canada, you should be familiar with the works of Rodgers and Hammerstein, but also with Spring Thaw and Anne of Green Gables. If you’re an Australian, you may want to know about Collits’ Inn and The Setimental Bloke. It is also helpful, I believe, for people in Australia to understand how Canadians develop indigenous work – and vice versa. In Japan, how can the anime and manga traditions be utilised in musicals? And the "chanchada"s of Brazil? And what about Korea, Singapore, South Africa, India and Argentina? If you truly believe that musical theatre is an international form, without boundaries, you’ll want to learn about all of them.
© 2008 Mel Atkey