Gen Z Takes On Sondheim
11 essays by students at SUNY Fredonia
Over the past few months, The Sondheim Hub has been working with students at the State University of New York at Fredonia, as part of Dr. Natalie Gerber’s Sondheim class. You might remember Dr. Gerber’s terrific essay on pararhyme, published here back in October. This semester, her students have been writing about Sondheim’s work from their own perspectives as members of Gen Z, a project designed with a view to being published here.
Today, we are proud to publish 11 short essays by undergraduate students at Fredonia, whose majors range from Musical Theater to Psychology, Acting to Education, English to Jazz Performance. There’s a fabulous range of topics explored, from marriage to music therapy, from the pandemic to America’s gun violence epidemic, and from loneliness to Sondheim’s impact on younger composers. Each piece has been lightly edited, simply so we have space to include all of them. Enjoy!
How Sondheim Bridges the Generation Gap
- A.H.
This semester, I was privileged enough to take Dr. Natalie Gerber’s class analyzing the lyrics and impact of Stephen Sondheim. As a longtime lover of Sondheim, as well as a Gen Z theatremaker, I leapt at the chance to deepen my knowledge of this artist whose work has profoundly impacted me. Our first reading of the semester was Daniel Pollack-Pelzner’s 2022 Atlantic article “What Gen Z Knows About Stephen Sondheim,” which begins with the statement “‘I love Company!’ was not a sentence I expected to hear… from an undergraduate.”
I was taken aback by this statement, not only personally, but because I know so many of my fellow Gen Z’ers feel similarly. Sondheim is a frequent topic of conversation among my friends, which has helped me develop a community of lifelong friends bonded by our love of this work. Company in particular remains a favorite for my age group. Our student-run theatre is producing Company this spring and I can confirm as the organization’s executive producer that this material has never gone out of style, and has continued to gain Gen Z interest. However, it seems that the fact that my peers resonate with this work so deeply takes many people by surprise. In trying to answer this question of why, it seems to me that the answer lies in Sondheim’s specificity.
Bobby is a 35-year-old bachelor living in New York City in the year 1970. This is an experience that no member of Gen Z can relate to in its totality, yet it sparked a piece that so many of my peers cite as deeply relevant and resonant. To me, this is evidence of Sondheim’s eye for exacting specificity in his writing. In Finishing the Hat, the man himself states, “the central theme of the evening emerged: the challenge of maintaining relationships in a society becoming increasingly depersonalized.” Because Sondheim took the time to observe the world around him, he was able to weave together a collection of lyrics that ring increasingly true in our current circumstances. This combination of prescience and exacting specificity marry to create an empathetic experience that, no matter your age or circumstance, you can access. When we reach the end of the piece and get to the soaring sincerity of “Being Alive,” a number which springs from the specificities of Bobby’s circumstances, we hear him ask a proverbial “somebody” to “hold me too close, / Somebody hurt me too deep.” These lyrics invite us to be guided through our own revelations on our relationships, no matter how disparate our circumstances are from Bobby’s.
Company is far from Sondheim’s only go-around at elevating a specific experience to the level of universality. Often, Sondheim’s most powerful songs dissect the experience of a character of a certain age and grapple with those implications. An obvious example is “I’m Still Here” from Follies, a show all about the inherent nuances of aging. Carlotta’s references to a bygone era of entertainment are obscure to us today (“I got through Abie’s / Irish Rose / Five Dionne babies, / Major Bowes”), but the driving musical motifs of the song coupled with Carlotta’s pride in what she has endured continue to bolster spirits and connect with audiences of all ages.
In high school, the final lines of “Move On” from Sunday became my personal mantra. “Anything you do, / Let it come from you” became a set of rules to live by, and while my experiences in no way aligned with Dot’s, they didn’t have to mirror each other to resonate. I’ve learned this empathy for the experiences of others through connecting with Sondheim’s work, and in an era of intense polarization and, as Sondheim notes, depersonalization, I believe we need more artists who teach us how to cultivate this sense of oneness and transcendent understanding now more than ever.
No More
- P.M.
My parents raised me on musical theater. Any chance that we could listen to a cast recording would be seized. The music of Stephen Sondheim was one of their favorites to play. His music occupied my mind long before I knew who he was, or his importance to the Broadway theater. It wasn’t until 2014 when my mom did Into the Woods with her theater company that I realized his importance, legacy, and musical genius. As a 12-year-old who was really starting to fall in love with music and art, the show left an indelible mark on me. I obsessed over Into the Woods, often listening to the OBC or watching the PBS pro-shot. I went on to explore more of Sondheim’s works as I grew up, but none interested me more than Assassins. Since encountering it for the first time in high school, it’s a work that I constantly return to, and one I am always able to get something new out of.
The world around us is dynamic, and so many pieces of art are viewed differently based on the societal context of the moment. I had listened to the aforementioned show for the first time shortly after the Parkland High School shooting on February 14, 2018, and the show has always carried the weight of gun violence for me. It is interesting to explore how the perception of the gun has changed since the musical’s premiere over 30 years ago. In ‘91, the gun was a weapon of war. Now, in 2024, the gun is an object that looms over day-to-day life. In Sondheim’s words, John Weidman shared that John F. Kennedy’s assassination was “his first real experience with loss... how could one inconsequential angry little man cause such universal grief and anguish?” Now, we must grapple with loss seemingly every day as a singular, inconsequential, angry person inflicts terrible misery upon the country with gun violence in a school, in a movie theater, in the supermarket, the list goes on.
It’s Charlie Guiteau in “The Gun Song” who sings “First of all, when you’ve got a gun– / Everybody pays attention!” And we do. Social media becomes dominated with these events, learning the name of the killer while the lives lost are relegated to numbers. It’s impossible to watch Assassins today, to listen to it, to engage with it in any way without acknowledging the threat of gun violence.
With these calamities, I am only left with the echoes of the show I began obsessing over a decade ago. After the tragedies of the second act, The Baker laments to the Mysterious Man “Can’t we just pursue our lives / With our children and our wives? / Till that happy day arrives.” Wouldn’t we all want nothing more than to rest peacefully, knowing that our loved ones are safe? Instead, we are left repairing the pieces of a broken dream because of a broken person.
Whether or not the cast of Assassins points their guns at the audience may now be rendered moot, as the threat of gun violence is always pointed at us; the threat of one inconsequential, angry man.
Sondheim on Love in the Margins
- A.R. & A.S.
AS: In Charles Isherwood’s review of Passion on the New York Times website, he says that, in the musical, “romantic love…is life’s richest love…it may also be fatal.” Of course, Sondheim doesn’t tackle only romantic love within his works – there’s a wide range of love, from familial affection (and earning it), to love that comes from commercialization, to the inability to love at all.
AR: The type of love between the Baker and his wife is a typical form of love between a husband and wife. There are three typical components that are involved in this form of love as a part of the triangular theory of love proposed by psychologist Robert Sternberg: intimacy, passion, and commitment.
AS: Within the song, the Baker says, “I thought one was enough / It’s not true,” which shows how, in these trying times, the commitment the two have for each other is tested and renewed. The Wife even mentions passion directly, saying that in the woods her husband is “passionate, charming, considerate, clever.” Through the experience they find newfound intimacy and passion that had petered out in the mundanity of everyday life, though it doesn’t last until the end of the show.
Next, in Pacific Overtures, Kayama is overwhelmed with a different, one-sided love.
AR: In the song “A Bowler Hat,” the type of love is an infatuation with the new. This type of love can be dangerous. The reason that an infatuation with the new can be dangerous is because it can cloud a person’s judgment, blinding them to the negative aspects of this new thing or person. And that is the case in this song.
AS: Kayama is plied with gifts, “[t]hey send me wine,” leading him to abandon his cultural heritage and values. He kills a spider, even though it is known that they are a lucky sign for Japanese people. In the end, Kayama thinks of himself as superior to both the Westerners and other Japanese people. However, there is a problem with the absence of love entirely as well, as seen in Follies.
AR: In the song “Who’s That Woman?,” the woman in the song can’t emotionally connect with others because she lacks the vulnerability to let people in, which is necessary for love. This is related to attachment theory. It is very likely that she has an avoidant attachment style, which is characterized by being unable to be vulnerable around others and feeling uncomfortable when someone opens up and is emotional.
AS: “Who’s That Woman?” has multiple layers to it just beyond the original story. Not only is the song about an avoidant woman, “The kind of love that she couldn’t make fun of, / She’d have none of,” but it’s also inherently performative. The metatextual levels highlight both the woman in the story and the performers themselves as being detached from reality and, in a way, the audience that adores them. This layering technique is also seen in the story of Sunday in the Park with George, where there exists both a complicated familial love and the love of art and the process of creation.
AR: Familial love between mother and son is also related to attachment theory. There is also the love of a craft involved in the song “Beautiful.” The psychology behind the love of a craft is because of the fact that “[a]rts and crafts play a role in controlling stress and enhancing relaxation. They also enable us to fail safely and handle our emotions” (Huotilainen, et. al., “Why our brains love arts and crafts: Implications of creative practices on psychophysical well-being.”).
AS: I think that George’s art connects him with his mother, finally, at the end of Act 1 with the song “Beautiful.” George’s mother is bossy and dismissive. She talks over George, but, in the end, she finally sees the purpose, and power, in his art. For George, the love of his craft is what keeps him going, seeing the beauty in the world, “What the eye arranges / Is what is beautiful.” Art provided George what his mother couldn’t. With Sondheim’s own experience with an abusive mother, his portrayals of love in familial relationships is complex, but with room for growth and a safe place to go–art. Sondheim famously says that “art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.” And what is more chaotic than the bonds that tie us together?
Harmonizing Healing: How Stephen Sondheim's music can be utilized in music therapy
- A.R. & L.C.
Music therapy is the “clinical and evidence-based use of music interventions to accomplish individualized goals” (American Music Therapy Association). Music therapy can be used with a diverse population of clients, such as infants, toddlers, teens, and older adults. It can be used in schools, mental health facilities, adult day centers, hospitals, rehabs, and many other locations. Musical theater pieces can be used in a variety of ways in music therapy, such as song discussions, musical analyses, and improvisations. Sondheim stated that music and “getting across to an audience and making them laugh, making them cry – just making them feel – is paramount to me” (“Stephen Sondheim: Examining His Life and Lyrics”). The same could be said of us.
One of our goals as music therapists is to increase emotional expression, and we have both been fortunate to participate in this hands-on music therapy experience in our clinical placement. This semester, my placement is with adults in a mental health facility and my weekly session plans often have song discussions. According to Kenneth Bruscia, a professor of music therapy, a song discussion is when “the therapist brings in a song that serves as a springboard for discussion of issues that are therapeutically relevant to the client. After listening to the song, the client is asked to analyze the meaning of the lyrics, and to examine with the therapist or other clients, the relevance of the lyrics to the client or clients’ lives” (Defining Music Therapy, p.138).
Song discussions are very beneficial for clients, especially those with a diagnosed mental health disorder. Song discussions encourage clients to identify song lyrics that correlate with their experiences and apply them to obstacles in their life as well as provide a less threatening way to process their emotions. In our song discussion, we would use the song “No One is Alone” from Into the Woods to help clients meet these goals. The lyrics “No one is alone, truly. / No one is alone” can be utilized to prompt a discussion. Discussion prompts would be “What feeling does this song evoke?”; “Who does this song make you think of in your life?”; and “This song talks about how no one is alone. How can you incorporate that idea into your life?”
Another goal of music therapy is to increase socialization and foster a sense of community. Using improvisation and participating in a drum circle can tackle these goals. The client population for these goals could be teens with different mental health diagnoses, older adults with dementia, or older adults in an assisted living facility. An example of a drum circle intervention is using “America” from West Side Story. The beat of this song, as well as the way that the beat works with the lyrics, could be helpful when creating a drum circle. Having the clients follow the beat and come up with their own rhythms to play over the beat could foster a sense of community. They could also discuss what the song means to them, which would help them socialize and find similarities between themselves. Some lyrics they could discuss are “Life can be bright in America, / If you can fight in America.” This could lead to a discussion about challenges that they have faced in their life.
Sondheim’s lyricism and the overall themes portrayed in his works are accessible to many populations and ages. In the article “‘To help us survive’: On Stephen Sondheim,” Clementine Scott notes, “It’s been notable in the aftermath of his death how many social media mourners used his pithier lyrics as a form of therapy… and it’s this universal quality that’s made his songs so adaptable.” The adaptability of his compositions is one of the most crucial traits for their applications in a music therapy setting. Sondheim’s lyrics allow for his music to reach many different populations of music therapy clients, and his more upbeat, rhythmic compositions encourage music-making along with them. Music therapy is one of the many places in which Sondheim’s works can reach audiences and fuel creativity.
Alone Together: Sondheim’s Resonance with Gen Z
- M.C. & N.I.
In Into the Woods: A Conversation Piece, Sondheim said, “We are all, in a sense, profoundly alone, but not when we are connected with each other.” Gen Z deeply understands this sentiment, especially in the context of the 2020 global pandemic and growing up with social media. We all felt a sense of fear of not knowing. Not knowing how to navigate the immediate challenges of the Covid-19 virus, struggling with the fear of how it would reshape our lives. This mirrors the state of fear and uncertainty that The Baker, Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and Jack felt at the end of Into the Woods. Like us, they find themselves unsure of what the future holds, mourning the connections they once had.
CINDERELLA:
Mother cannot guide you.
Now you’re on your own.
Only me beside you.
Still, you’re not alone.
No one is alone, truly.
No one is alone.
Many people can connect to the devastation of losing close friends and family members during the pandemic. Like the characters at the end of Into the Woods, people were unable to say their final goodbyes to relatives who passed. There were visitation restrictions in hospitals, and a nationwide lockdown preventing people from gathering. People were forced to learn how to live without their loved ones, alone with their grief, with no one to comfort or “guide” them.
WITCH:
Stay with me,
The world is dark and wild.
Stay a child while you can be a child.
With me.
The Witch argues with Rapunzel when she wants to leave, after spending her whole life locked away in her tower. The Witch’s desire for Rapunzel to stay with her and remain a child highlights the Witch’s need for power and control over Rapunzel’s life, preventing her from growing or experiencing the outside world. Social media is a significant source of communication for Gen Z. However, there are elements of social media and phone usage that can be controlled. Parents track phones, gaining access to their children’s location. They limit their children’s exposure to social media, in order to protect and preserve their innocence.
In the Into the Woods: A Conversation Piece, Sondheim said, “She doesn’t know whether she wants the palace life, where she feels uncomfortable but where it’s nice, or her home life, which is uncomfortable but where she feels protected.” Cinderella is constantly in a position where she is alone. She is faced with a feeling of tension, deciding between what she thinks she wants and what is right for her.
CINDERELLA:
You think, what do you want?
You think, make a decision.
Why not stay and be caught?
You think, well, it’s a thought.
Johanna waits at her window longing for human connection as she is isolated from the outside world, while Anthony sings about his longing for her:
ANTHONY:
Do they think that walls can hide you?
Even now I’m at your window.
I am in the dark beside you,
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair,
Johanna.
Our generation resonates with this feeling through being forced to quarantine and communicate digitally through social media. Similarly, we were unable to go outside or interact with others. However, Johanna has been trapped and alone her entire life, while the world only had a glimpse of that feeling. We waste time waiting for someone to reach out, causing a disconnect from life. People rely on social media for validation from others because they could not be content with themselves. People yearn to feel wanted and appreciated.
Gen Z has grown up with a perspective shaped by experiences like living through a global pandemic and navigating the constant presence of social media. These influences often leave us in a state of loneliness, seeking validation from others while struggling to find peace in our own solitude.
What Do Killers, a Bachelor, and a Painter Have in Common?
- G.C.
Ben Brantley wrote in the New York Times that Sondheim’s “genre was the voice of…doubters who…feel like outsiders in their own lives, like loners.…people who grew up in an age of anxiety, of self-probing psychoanalysis and rising divorce rates” (“Stephen Sondheim, The Man Who Felt Too Much”).
Who better understands this than Gen Z? We have lived through a pandemic where we were forced to be isolated, we live in a society where screen time is more important than personal connection, and we statistically have the highest levels of anxiety and depression. Many of us tend to guard our hearts as we fear rejection. We don’t open up or become vulnerable with others, which prevents us from establishing a genuine, honest connection. We can see this and even relate to Sondheim’s characters, especially his male leads, who lack connection or struggle to find or maintain connections with others and who—by not opening up—prevent others from seeing who they are. From Lee Harvey Oswald to George Seurat to Bobby to Benjamin Barker, we can all relate to these characters’ struggles as they go through life lacking genuine connections.
Of all the assassins in Assassins, Lee Harvey Oswald is the most psychologically damaged. All feel like outcasts or lack love from someone or from their country. Because he feels unwanted and unloved, the assassins can easily use the promise of a family to manipulate him into assassinating JFK. The assassins variously say, “I envy you…”; “We’re your family…”; “I admire you…”; “I respect you…”; “Make us proud of you…” This hope that Oswald could finally be loved and have a family is all he needs to pull the trigger.
In Sunday in the Park with George, the 19th-century painter Georges Seurat is so engulfed with perfecting his art he doesn’t realize he is completely ignoring and shutting out Dot. Dot feels this and decides to move on with someone who will show her love and affection. George felt as if no one understood him or his way of expressing his love, as if he differed from others. In “Finishing the Hat” George sang:
Yes, she looks for me.
Good.
Let her look for me to tell me why
she left me–
As I always knew she would.
I had thought she understood
They have never understood,
And no reason they should,
But if anybody could…
In Company, Bobby feels disconnected from his friends and romantic partners. He has many relationships but cannot seem to commit or find love and intimacy. Bobby begins to feel lonely and isolated because of his inability to connect with others. The loneliness Bobby feels sends him into a depressive state, which happens when humans are deprived of affection or feel unloved for too long. In “Marry Me A Little,” Bobby is expressing his ideal love in lines like these:
Marry me a little,
Love me just enough…
Keep a tender distance,
So we’ll both be free.
…Marry me a little,
Body, heart, and soul.
Passionate as hell,
But always in control.
Bobby expresses his desire for love but is hesitant, as he fears vulnerability. He wants to love but only with minimal risk. Unfortunately, that’s not how love works.
In Sweeney Todd, Benjamin Barker, who becomes Sweeney Todd, is so consumed by a need for vengeance that he does not even consider connecting with those who care for him. In “By the Sea,” Mrs. Lovett expresses her feelings to Todd and explains what a life together could be like:
You know what I’d like to do, Mr. Todd?
What I dream,
If the business stays good?
Where I’d really like to go?
In a year or so…
Don’t you want to know?”
Todd responds in an emotionless, monotone voice, “Yes, yes I do. I do.”
As Tavi Gevinson wrote in The New Yorker, “[H]is lyrics charted new territory in the psyches of musical-theatre.…His characters are sorry-grateful, regretful-happy, excited and scared.” Sondheim was a trailblazer in regards to the emotional complexity of his characters and it allows him to remain relevant today. The isolation these four characters feel, we can relate to. Whether you feel it personally or simply observe it, everyone notices the disconnection our generation is facing. We have difficulty forming genuine, in-person connections; we don’t go outside as often and are constantly focused on a screen. While you may not be a killer, bachelor, or painter, the lack of connection and feeling of isolation relates to us.
Sondheim’s Footprint on Today’s Important Musical Composers & Lyricists
- E.D. & T.N.
Stephen Sondheim became well known for character-driven and sophisticated works, some of which—like Into the Woods and Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street—have become household names. His musicals often include a mix of different and unique characters with their own stories and different backgrounds that eventually all come together to form a great work. Sondheim is even sometimes credited with creating the concept musical, and he is one of the most major and influential figures in musical theater. And yet Sondheim now seems to be one generation away from what we, as college students, would think of as our contemporary musical composers. Therefore, our questions center on who, of the contemporary composers, Sondheim has influenced.
One such composer and lyricist is Jason Robert Brown, who has popular credits including The Bridges of Madison County, Parade, and Songs for a New World. Brown’s compositional styles are influenced by Sondheim, using many dissonances in his orchestrations to symbolize both beauty and tension to create specific soundscapes. It’s rhythmic, intense, and often emotional and powerful. Brown stated that when he was first introduced to Sweeney Todd and Sunday in the Park with George, he realized how much the musical score itself could do to tell a story. Brown wrote in an article originally published in The Sondheim Review in 2010, “To say I’m a Sondheim Worshiper is to understate the case considerably — I owe my ambition and my dreams to him. Without his example, I wouldn’t even know who to become.”
In Songs for a New World, written by Brown and premiered in 1995, “The Steam Train” has a groove that matches the sound of a real train. “Someone in a Tree” from Pacific Overtures comes to mind in response to “The Steam Train.” Both Sondheim and Brown use a groove that stays consistent throughout the song, and harmonic changes are few and far between, especially compared to selections from the likes of Dear Evan Hansen and other contemporary style musicals.
Another example is Adam Guettel, a composer and lyricist best known for Floyd Collins and The Light in the Piazza. He is the son of Mary Rodgers, who was a very close friend of Stephen Sondheim, and he is the grandson of Richard Rodgers. In Adam Guettel’s interview “Richard Rodgers: The Sweetest Sounds,” he mentions that Sondheim’s music was played much more than his grandfather’s. In “Hero and Leander” from the song cycle Myths and Hymns, Guettel uses distinct dissonances to convey separation and longing, which is similar to “Not A Day Goes By” from Merrily We Roll Along. The dissonances in this piece reflect the same theme of the character’s persistence in love despite the loss of a relationship.
Guettel is now 59 years old and Brown 54, and they’re more than well established. While Brown is some 30 years older than us, he shared many of the same sentiments that we do when he was our age. What’s really exciting is that in our own studies and performances of Jason Robert Brown’s and Adam Guettel’s music, we keep Sondheim’s influence in circulation.
It’s A Prehistoric Ritual: Sondheim, Generation Z, and Marriage
- E.R. & T.S.
Stephen Sondheim, who got married quite late in life, had many opinions on relationships and marriage. “‘It’s having somebody in your life who enriches you,’ Sondheim said of [his husband, Jeff] Romley, ‘somebody who doesn’t let every day be the same day, somebody who forces you to go outside of yourself’” (in Tim Teeman’s “Up Close and Very Personal with the Real Stephen Sondheim.”). Sondheim’s beliefs on companionship, relationships, and marriage are crystal clear in all of his writings; “...he makes us think, examine, touch the open wound, and see the absurd, macabre, painful, delightful, and revelatory in our relationships with others and within ourselves.”
Even though Sondheim was known for his late pursuit of defined love, he expresses his profound understanding and deep passion for relationships, both platonic and romantic, in all of his works. Company follows the reflections of Bobby, a man in his thirties navigating the single life surrounded by his married friends’ relationships. In “The Little Things You Do Together,” Joanne, one of Bobby’s married friends, explains it’s the “Neighbors you annoy together / Children you destroy together / That keep marriage intact.” This song, diving into both the cutesy and possibly frowned upon past-times of relationships, along with “Sorry-Grateful,” where the males in the relationships express their true feelings for their wives, both highlight the topics that couples may avoid talking about publicly because, at the time, imperfection in marriage was commonly criticized.
In Into the Woods, we see different views of marriage with the evolving relationships of The Baker and The Baker’s Wife as well as The Princes with Cinderella and Rapunzel. In “It Takes Two,” The Baker and his wife express how opening up to each other has allowed their relationship to blossom:
It’s because I’m becoming aware
Of us
As a pair
Of us,
Each accepting a share
Of what’s there.
When looking at the Princes’ advances towards Cinderella and Rapunzel and their scandals of the second act, we see the dichotomy between marriage rooted in love versus lust, concluding their big reprise of “Agony” with “Ah, well, back to my wife…”. Regardless of the production and societal expectations, Sondheim’s exploration of relationships is diverse, developed, and dynamic.
When these shows were originally written, marriage was an expectation of almost every young person. Sondheim’s lyrics often reflected society’s feelings about marriage, but he would regularly shed light on what would often go unsaid. From a Generation Z perspective, with a new focus on mental health and a need for open communication, much of what is said “behind closed doors” in his musicals is now outwardly spoken about. To our generation, “The Little Things You Do Together” is now a song about common experiences that couples can enjoy conversing on, “It Takes Two” now holds the standard that all relationships should have, and “Agony (Reprise)” still possesses the comedic relief of the stereotypical lustful man. Being a part of a generation that stereotypically has strong beliefs and isn’t afraid to express them outwardly, we realize relationships can come in all shapes and sizes, but there are still standards we must hold each other to. The interpretation of Sondheim’s shows has shifted from inward thoughts and private conversations to outward opinions and relatable experiences. While circumstances have changed, Sondheim has not, and the love for his productions will continue on for generations to come.
The Warmth & Personality Behind a Cold Lyrical Facade
- A.N.
When I listened to my first Sondheim interview about fourteen weeks ago, at the beginning of this class, I was quite amazed. The audio recording was of his guest presentation at the 92nd Street Y in New York, a part of the organization’s Lyrics & Lyricists series from 1971. I sat at my desk for two straight hours listening to Sondheim discuss the clever writing in his music, some of his lyrics that fell short of expectations, and some of his inspirations for creating music. But one of the things that I was most mesmerized by was the way in which he spoke about creating art. He discussed the decisions that go into his lyrics from a very logical point of view and even referred to his work as a sort of mind game: “On one level I suppose lyric writing is an elegant form of puzzle, and as you know, I’m [a] great puzzle fan.”
Perhaps this moment demonstrates why many Sondheim fans and critics alike often comment that his lyrics and characters aren’t relatable and are detached from emotion. It’s a sentiment that was spoken about so frequently that Sondheim mentions it in his second volume of collected lyrics, Look, I Made a Hat!: “I have often been accused of writing ‘cold’ scores: intellectually acute but emotionally dispassionate, not user-friendly.” I partially understand the thought process behind this belief. But the truth of the matter is that Sondheim’s work is full of emotional topics and characters, they’re just cleverly hidden away.
Let’s take “Being Alive” from the end of Company as an example. “Being Alive” starts out with Bobby using cynical descriptions of what marriage entails: “Someone to hold you too close, / Someone to hurt you too deep.” However, by the end of the song Bobby is making imperative statements about wanting someone to share his life with: “Somebody need me too much, / Somebody know me too well.” Although the beginning of the song appears to be setting up a cold and detached view of marriage, the lyrics later evolve into a more compassionate view of relationships. Before the song is over, Bobby states, “Make me alive” to the unspecified partner that he realizes he wants in his life. To me, there are few lines in the song that convey as much emotion as that one.
The other example of a very emotionally charged Sondheim song that I’d like to briefly discuss is “Finishing the Hat.” The sentence fragments that George thinks aloud in as he works on his next painting describe two sides of an emotional coin. The beginning of “Finishing the Hat” details the obligation that George feels to his artwork and how it can leave him feeling disconnected from the rest of the world:
Finishing the hat,
How you have to finish the hat,
How you watch the rest of the world
From a window
While you finish the hat.
At the end of the song, George conveys his feelings of pride regarding the work he has made as he states the final two lines, “Look, I made a hat / Where there never was a hat.” The pattern of isolation and accomplishment that is shown during the song gives a lot of emotion and personality to a character that, in the context of the story, hasn’t been very sympathetic thus far.
Sondheim Was Responsible for Less Than You Think: An Analysis of What Makes Sondheim Memorable
- N.C.
An interesting divide that I have seen in Sondheim’s work has been what makes each of his shows memorable. For some shows, it is the fun lyrics and wonderful melodies that make them remarkable. For other shows, I believe that it is not his direct work that makes the show unforgettable.
Two shows that I have found to be memorable because of Sondheim’s direct work are Into the Woods and Pacific Overtures. Each of these feature musical and lyrical magic, making them particularly strong. One of my favorite moments from Into the Woods is the line “While her withers wither with her–” from the opening number. Sondheim’s direct work showcased here is an impressive part of the show, especially as this lyrical wit is woven in throughout the rest of the show. One of Jack’s songs, “I Guess This Is Goodbye,” develops this further. “Someday I’ll buy you back. / I’ll see you soon again” are just two lines from this intentionally non-rhymed song. Sondheim’s choice to showcase Jack’s “dimwitted”-ness is where all of the audience’s attention is at that moment, making Sondheim’s direct work the important part of this show.
Pacific Overtures is another illustration of this idea, shown wonderfully in “Next.”
Brilliant notions,
Still improving!
Make the motions,
Keep it moving—
Next!
Next!
Next!
Next!
Sondheim’s use of the word “next” is a harsh contrast to the words used throughout the musical that end in soft sounds (to imitate the Japanese language) showing Japan’s forced Westernization. Sondheim’s choices and work are what impact the show significantly, especially in making a story about global politics accurate and attractive to a general audience.
By contrast, many of Sondheim’s shows are memorable because of what each focuses on, not because of Sondheim’s direct contributions. A clear example is Merrily We Roll Along. A pivotal part of how the show functions is that the story is told backwards—this was not Sondheim’s innovation, but George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart’s (the original playwrights). In Finishing the Hat, Sondheim mentions that “telling the story backwards suggested something unconventional: the possibility of reversing the usual presentation of [the songs].... All this was not intended to be unconventional for its own sake…but [as] a method of holding the score together.” Sondheim’s use of musical materials to assist in telling the story backwards is a wonderful application of his skills, but the implementation of reverse chronology being a key part in how the show works (and what distinguishes it) was not Sondheim’s idea.
In Company, the idea of marriage that permeates the entire show is a part of what makes it relevant to audiences. In The Atlantic, Sophie Gilbert’s article about the recent production of this show with gender-swapped roles mentions “Her changing gender… shifts the dynamic of every other relationship in the show, challenging assumptions about power, sexuality, and the nature of marriage in the 21st century.” Since Sondheim’s score and lyrics are largely the same between the productions (barring occasional name changes), the large change in impact due to the gender swapping is a testament to the importance of the story over the musical content. Sondheim’s work on this show is significant, but I believe that it is not what makes it unforgettable.
The stories or themes used in these two shows are what make them meaningful. Other examples can be found in Sweeney Todd and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum because of their well-written stories. His treatises on them are informed and intentional, but the elements that make each show momentous were not his inventions. Because of this, I don’t believe that Sondheim was responsible for these shows becoming memorable—it was the stories that caught on with the public. Sondheim’s direct work to the shows he did is important and significant, but with some I believe his credit should be greater in bringing the stories to light.
Into the Musical Rabbit Hole: How Sondheim uses melody, harmony and rhythm
- L.W. & P.L.
Throughout his illustrious discography, Stephen Sondheim is like no other. Sondheim “never liked to discuss the inner workings of his music in front of the public” (Anthony Tommasini, New York Times), so we’ll be diving into his music for you. Whether it was melody, harmony, or rhythm, Sondheim was virtuosic in his utilization of all.
The “Johanna” melody from Sweeney Todd is one of most luscious passages in all of musical theater. While one can clearly spiral about Sondheim’s use of complex harmony, some of the greatest beauty lies in his understanding of basic diatonicism, which is the sequential arrangement of the seven unaltered notes of a musical scale. The “Johanna” melody is entirely composed of pitches from the major scale, specifically E Major. The melody traces out like this, with each syllable having a new pitch. “I feel you, Johanna, I feel you.” The solfege – a mnemonic system assigning words to pitches – of this melody is as follows: Mi Do Ti, Mi-Sol-La, Do Fa Sol. Diatonicism allows the listener to experience calmer shifts in harmony as they are by definition using similar or the same pitches.
In “Agony” from Into the Woods, Sondheim makes brilliant use of sus, sus2, and cluster chords. Like “Johanna,” this tune also happens to use a great deal of diatonicism. However, instead of using simpler chord voicings, Sondheim packs numerous chord tones into beautiful dense chords. In this number, Rapunzel’s Prince recites Rapunzel’s “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah—”. During the first “ah,” the instrumentation plays a composite E major 7 sus4 chord, using pitches 1, 3, 4, 5, and 7 of the E major scale. Instead of spreading these chord tones across larger intervals (e.g. pitches 1, 5, 10), they are densely packed together. Then, on the very next beat of the same measure, the composite chord being played is an A 6/9 chord over E (due to the pedal E that remains in the bass throughout the entire phrase). This uses pitches 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6 of the E major scale, creating the ultimate “sus” sound by using both the 2(sus2) and the 4(sus) of the scale, and then sandwiching them between the 1 and the 5 and 6.
Sondheim very much enjoyed such use of cluster chords and creating musical tension for the audience to stir in, as is evident in Mark Eden Horowitz’s book Sondheim on Music. Horowitz inquires, “How do you compose a song where the harmony itself is so uncertain…?” Sondheim replies, “I just think it’s up to the audience—let them worry about it.”
The entire first act of Pacific Overtures contains many cases in which Sondheim uses Japanese instrumentation and compositional techniques reminiscent of traditional Japanese music. He does this to show how Japan’s culture was heavily isolated and tied to its traditional music and art before the introduction of Western influence. The song that exemplifies this idea the best is “Chrysanthemum Tea.” For example, when the Shogun’s Wife sings, her melody is largely based on the e minor pentatonic scale (E, F#, G, B, C#) with flat and sharp 5 (B♭ and B#) occasionally thrown in. Also, in the instrumentation and when the priests begin singing along with each other, they occasionally sing and play perfect 4ths and 5ths with each other. An abundance of traditional Asian music is based on pentatonic scales and perfect intervals.
Ultimately, through this deep analysis of Sondheim’s intricacies in his music, we can see how he put a great deal of care and detail into the musical aspects of his shows. Every note he notated and every lyric he put in writing played into the larger narrative of not only the music itself, but of the musical as a whole.