The Gershwin Wars
With Nice Work and Porgy and Bess up for 20 Tonys, the Gershwins and Stephen Sondheim talk to Tablet
A few days before the performance, members of the cast had traveled to the participating schools for a workshop to discuss the play. Nathaniel Stampley, who plays Swing, whom Crown kills early in the play, visited Bryant High School in Queens, the high school that Ethel Merman attended. A few Bryant students quietly cheered when they saw him on stage.
After the performance, McDonald, Lewis, Stampley, and three other actors, as well as the play’s stage manager returned to the stage for a half-hour-long “talk back” with the students, a post-production chat about the theater and the play they had just seen. Lewis took off the brace he had worn throughout his moving performance to show how he had twisted his leg and body into a distorted pretzel shape. Audra McDonald told them that she had fallen in love with the folk opera’s music when she first heard her parents’ recording of Porgy and Bess, sung by the incomparable Leontyne Price. From the record she had memorized all the songs by heart, she said.
Peter Avery, the director of theater for the NYC Department of Education who previously worked at Disney Theatricals for two years, coaxed the star-struck students into asking the questions they were initially too shy to pose. How had the actors made it to Broadway? Weren’t they afraid they would forget their lines? “The audience doesn’t want you to fail,” another actor reassured them.
A show of hands revealed that more than half of the students who lived less than 10 miles away from the Great White Way had never seen a Broadway play. Few had ever heard a Gershwin song. Of those who had, most recognized only “Summertime.” The winner of an early American Idol had performed it, one student volunteered.
Only 10 percent of the city’s 1,700 schools still had certified theater teachers, Avery told me after the students boarded their buses for home. “There are excellent theater teachers across the city,” he said. But at schools hard hit by citywide staff cutbacks and budget cuts, access to quality theater education for New York students remains a “challenge.”
Broadway’s aging audiences attest to the need to introduce a new generation of Americans to not just the music of the Gershwins and other great American composers, but to the musical theater genre itself. In 1982, patrons under 30 comprised 27.1 percent of theater audiences throughout the nation, a National Endowment for the Arts study of age and arts participation showed; by 1997 they comprised just 16.2 percent. The percentage over age 60 rose from 16.4 percent to 22.7 percent of the musical theater audiences. “The kids are responding to the project like gangbusters,” said Avery, who is now discussing access to performances to Peter and the Starcatcher and other plays.
Yet professional critics have hardly been as kind as local teenagers. Ben Brantley of the Times called the estate-approved production of Porgy “skeletal,” “cloudy,” and “mild,” and “just pretty good,” or in non-Timesean-speak, awful. Charles Isherwood, writing that Brantley and Anthony Tommasini had found the production “disappointing,” chimed in as well, calling it “musically underpowered and emotionally tepid.”
The only thing virtually all critics agreed upon was Audra McDonald’s magnificent performance. Even Sondheim, who had harshly criticized her lack of regard for Bess in the original play’s depiction, saluted her astounding voice as one of the glories of the New York stage.
The decidedly mixed critical reaction to the production made New Yorker critic Hilton Als’ admiration for what he called Paulus’ “politically radical and dramaturgically original” adaptation even more striking. As an African-American, or more accurately, Caribbean-American, Als did not hesitate to challenge the Gershwin purist dogma and agree with the need for updating the opera, given the evolution of American attitudes toward race. However talented Edwin DuBose Heyward, the author of the novel on which the play was based, may have been, he was of his time, Als wrote, a man who saw blacks as “alien and exotic,” a man who could write, “I saw the primitive Negro as the inheritor of a source of delight that I would have given much to possess.” Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, he wrote, was “a show about black people, created entirely by white people.” Whereas “Paulus and Parks’s approach,” he added, had “less to do with the self-serving manipulation of a classic” than with “humanizing the depiction of race onstage.”
Writing for the World Socialist web site, Fred Mazelis complains that Als did not back up his charges, “nor does he try to explain how Gershwin could have written such magnificent music” if he had “disdain and disrespect for his characters.” In a shrewd observation about the current controversy, Mazelis said he was struck by how “indifferent” Als was to the music itself. That may well be true: Als writes primarily about theater, not music. And the power of Porgy and Bess, in whatever form it appears, resides for many of us in the gorgeous music rather than the powerful love story that accompanies it.
In an essay in the National Endowment for the Humanities journal in late 1997, music historian James Standifer puts the current debate in perspective by providing some useful facts about the play, its reception over time, and “the complex way the issue of race continues to be played out on the American scene.” The work that is now a “cultural artifact,” he notes, an “epochal event in American music,” has long been controversial within the black community. And it was cut by Gershwin himself from its opening in 1935 in Boston to the Broadway stage. Though it played 124 times and toured for three months to large audiences around the country, it was a commercial failure. The version that finally succeeded financially as well as critically—and not until World War II—was about half the length of the original.
Though the work was written thanks to a commission from the Metropolitan Opera for a distinctly American opera, the Met could not perform it when it was written because, among other reasons, the Gershwins insisted (as do the estates today) that it have a black cast. In 1933, the Met did not have a single black singer on its roster: The Met, in fact, did not perform the work it had helped create until 1985, more than 50 years after its Broadway premiere. (The Houston Grand Opera revived it in 1976.) Marc Gershwin says that the Met is expressing interest in staging a production in 2017.
For Gershwin purists, this may well be the most important silver lining of the current production’s reappearance on Broadway. For the rest of us, the good news is that The Gershwins’ Porgy and Bess, which was originally scheduled to end its run on July 8, will be extended with its leading stars at least through Sept. 30 and possibly longer—depending on how the controversy over the Gershwins’ artistic legacy plays out on Sunday night at the Tonys.
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