Musicals are a catalyst for creativity
OK: we’re in the final days of summer and it could be that your kids are bored … they might be whining … nerves might be fraying ... tempers flaring … familiarity might just possibly, perhaps be breeding contempt.
Do not panic! I have the solution, and it is Broadway!
Over the years I’ve come to believe that all children are hard-wired to love music and stories. Musical theatre is a combination of these two things, and therefore wields magical powers over kids. I’m not kidding, here: put them in a room with the soundtrack of Cats and some basic craft supplies and in a couple of hours they’ll emerge, ready to perform a severely-underrehearsed-and-yet-passionate rendition of “Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat.”
In a previous column, I wrote about buying an electric car; for our kids, the electric part of the deal was far less cool than the free three-month subscription to Sirius radio that came with the car.
“Mum, there’s an ENTIRE BROADWAY CHANNEL!”
For three months we listened to that channel. There were the songs from shows we knew by heart (In the Heights); the songs we recoiled at (how to explain “You can’t get a man with a gun” to girls in the 21st century?); the songs we got to know and eventually appreciate (“Sundays in the park with GEORGE!”); and the songs we loved instantly and ardently, and dashed home to buy on iTunes (Dear Evan Hansen). I discovered the pure genius of Elaine Stritch singing “Here’s to the ladies who lunch” and the heartbreak of “Be On Your Own” from Nine.
As we neared the end of the three-month trial period, Sirius began to call … and call … and call … in an effort to get our paid commitment. Finally, my husband picked up the phone and gave it to them straight: “Look, we only listen to one of the channels, so it’s just not worth it. Could we just pay for one station? It’s, uh … the Broadway channel.”
There was a long silence at the other end of the line. I think this was perhaps the first time the sales agent had been confronted with such a situation.
It was especially funny to listen to my husband — a former professional musician — explain this state of affairs in his own family. He’s not so much about the musical theatre. I think he realized that he was rapidly losing ground to my influence when he sat down to play Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite for our eldest two kids when they were six and four years old. As the music started, my daughter (the four year old) jumped up and said, “Ooo! This sounds just like Cats!” My husband’s low, gravelly reply was both instant and dogged: “No, it’s NOT Cats. It’s NOTHING like Cats.”
What can I say? I grew up during Broadway’s blockbuster phase — the time of Les Misérables, The Phantom of the Opera, and yes, Cats.
I loved all of these, but my favourite was Chess. As a 10-year-old, it never really occurred to me that it might be a bit of a reach to write a pop musical about international champion chess players (“One town’s very like another when your head’s down over your pieces, brother!”). To this day, I can sing every word of every song, from the most intricately structured and intellectual verses (“How sad to see a model of decorum and tranquility become like any other sport, a battleground for stubborn ideologies to slug it out with glee”) to the most emotionally raw (“Never make a promise or plan; take a little love where you can. Nobody’s on nobody’s side”). The songs you learn to sing as a child stay with you forever, and singing them will always be a thrill and a comfort.
As I write this, three of the kids (ages 7, 9 and 11) are in another room singing “Requiem” from Dear Evan Hansen — they know it word-for-word, and their common love for the song binds them together. It’s inspired a dinner-table discussion about what the word “requiem” means and what role it might play in the show as a whole. There have been many discussions, in fact — “teachable moments” that otherwise might never have happened. What makes Eponine a more interesting, engaging character than Colette? Why do both of Lin Manuel Miranda’s musicals place so much importance on men leaving a legacy? Where does Grizabella go when she rides the giant tire upwards with Deuteronomy? Why would the Russian want to defect? What’s defecting? Is a kerchief tied rakishly around the upper thigh absolutely necessary when costuming oneself as Rum Tum Tugger?
It’s a hell of a lot harder to get this kind of mileage out of your average Top-Forty pop song.