`Phantom' ending; so is gig of a lifetime
NEW YORK >> Last fall, as show No. 13,781 of “The Phantom of the Opera” came to a close, the applause overpowered the thundering music. The members of the orchestra, packed into the pit under the stage, could not see the crowd, but they could hear and feel them.
The standing ovation brought Kristen Blodgette, the show's associate conductor, to tears. She held her red-nailed hands in prayer, in gratitude to the musicians.
Andrew Lloyd Webber's smash hit — the longest-running musical in Broadway history — is scheduled to give its final performance at the Majestic Theater next month. These days, since the announcement of the closing last September, the musical “feels more like a rock concert,” said Kurt Coble, a violinist with the show.
Coble is part of Broadway's largest pit orchestra, which will disappear along with the show. It holds 27 full-time musicians, 11 of whom have been with “Phantom” since it opened in the late 1980s. The consistent work has allowed many of the longtime musicians, who have essentially grown up and older with the show, to build comfortable, even lucrative lives. And that is no small feat for any artist seeking stability in New York City. Unlike the principal actors who have short-term contracts with “Phantom,” full-time members of the orchestra and ensemble get a “run-of-show” agreement, which guarantees their jobs until the production closes. In 1988, when “Phantom” first opened, “there were some wide-eyed optimists who thought the show could run as long as five to six years,” recalled Lowell Hershey, a trumpeter who has been with the production since the beginning. “And I remember thinking, `Wow, that would be really good.' ”
“Phantom,” of course, surpassed that prediction. During its 35-year run, the musical has created more jobs and generated more income than any other show in Broadway history, according to Michael Borowski, its press representative.
The security of the “Phantom” paycheck has helped many of its musicians start families, send children to college, buy property and save for retirement. “Broadway was never meant to be a steady job, but for us, it was a steady job,” said concertmaster Joyce Hammann, who has been with “Phantom” since 1990. “I can't overstress how unbelievably lucky we have all been for all these years.”
“Phantom” maintains a traditional pit setup: a sunken open cave wedged between the audience and the stage. Although live music remains one of the essential elements of a Broadway musical, many producers have sacrificed pits to build bigger stages or increase seating. These days, it's common to see musicians onstage with
performers or to not see them at all, as many of them work in distant rooms that pipe their music into the theaters.
“Even if we want our musicians to be in the pit, the decision lies in how each production believes it will succeed,” said Tino Gagliardi, the president of Local 802 of the American Federation of Musicians. “Unfortunately, they are not always right; the shows that have had the longest runs have been the shows with large orchestras in the pit.”
Coble knows how special the pit experience can be. “Sometimes I feel like I am a blacksmith in the early 20th century — people still had horses but not as many,” he said. “But you can never get rid of musicians. You'll always need live music.”
They got this
Pit musicians might not be able to see the show as it unfolds, but they have their tradecraft down pat. “Phantom” runs like a clock. The chandelier always swings over the pit, marking the beginning of the show, and then comes crashing down at the climax of Act I. The patter of footsteps overhead marks the New Year's Party in Act II, which tells the musicians to make way for an actor who snakes his way through the pit and sits below the conductor, waiting to fire a shot into the auditorium. Then, when the shot sounds, they cover their ears and wait for the smell of powder, which signals that it is time for them to pick up their instruments again.
Regardless of whether they have a chair on Broadway (a full-time contract) or not, musicians are paid per show and
are supported by Local 802, a strong union that provides them with health care and a pension, among other benefits. (When Broadway shows went dark during the pandemic, “Phantom” producers continued to pay the health insurance for their chair musicians.)
Wages have grown
Ed Matthew, a clarinetist, said that when he started playing on Broadway in 1994, he made about $140 a night. As of this month, the base wage for a musician at “Phantom” is about $291 per show.
Before getting hired by “Phantom,” many of its musicians juggled jobs. Peter Reit, a French horn player, made fur coats in the garment district, tended bar and sold vacuum cleaners before joining the orchestra in 1987, when rehearsals for the musical started.
“I used to do my budget week to week with all my freelance work, and the first thing I noticed when I had this job was that I could now budget month to month, and that was an incredible stress relief,” said Reit, 63, who retired in 2021. He now teaches music at the State University of New York at Purchase and Vassar College.
The regular pay and benefits allowed members of the pit to concentrate on other aspects of their lives, like raising children. “Most of the support for my family was based upon what I could earn, and that took a lot of pressure off as a provider,” said Hershey, the trumpeter.
There are five substitute musicians on call for each Broadway chair. Although substitutes receive the same union benefits as full-time chairs, they lack the consistency of an eight-show week. “Being a sub is hard because you are constantly waiting for the next call; you have no control in your life,” said Nick Jemo, a trumpeter who started subbing at “Phantom” in 2009 before joining the pit full time five years later. Some subs have been filling in at “Phantom” for more than 10 years, and they keep coming back.
“You want to bring your entire being into that show. It's got everything you'd ever want to express in an instrument,” said Brad Bosenbeck, who started subbing for one of the two viola chairs at “Phantom” when he was 26. Bosenbeck, now 31 and still a substitute, said he doesn't take the job for granted. “I feel like the luckiest guy in the world that I get to do what I love and get paid for it.”
With the show's closing, many of its musicians are thinking about their next chapters. Some believe that “Phantom” might return to Broadway in a few years with a reduced orchestra, like the production in London. A few veteran musicians, including Hershey, will retire. Hammann looks forward to teaching, which she started doing when the pandemic kept her away from the pit. Blodgette will conduct at “Bad Cinderella,” Lloyd Webber's new musical. Most say they will try to sub at other shows.
“The show closing feels liberating,” said Coble, who admitted to fantasizing about being a strolling violinist in a fancy restaurant, dressed up as the phantom and playing variations of the score. “I'll play my last performance like I've tried to play every other show, and when it's over, I'll just move on to something else. I don't get terribly sentimental over it because it's a job, after all. It's work. It's not easy. It's not a vacation.”
The musicians won't miss some aspects of the show, like the claustrophobic pit, where they sit so close to one another that if one of them opens a candy bar, the rest can smell it. “We have to get along with each other because we are tucked in like sardines in a can,” Matthew said. .
In between songs, some musicians will play Sudoku and crossword puzzles; others will read. “A good book can really make going to work even more joyful,” Jemo said. He and Hershey, his trumpet partner, had a big French dictionary that sat between them, and often they reached for it at the same time.
At the end of every show, musicians will continue to interact with audience members, some of whom like to peek into the pit to thank them as they pack their instruments.
“What more can we ask for than to have had this show for 35 years?” Blodgette asked. “When I started doing this, I was single, I did not have a child, my parents were alive,” she said. “Through all of the chaos of life, this was here.”