THOMAS SHEPARD, INC. By Peter Filichia
“Maybe it was a compliment. I’ll never know.”
So writes Thomas Z. Shepard in his most informative memoir, Recording Broadway: A Life in Cast Albums.
He’s referring to the leading character in MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG. Franklin Shepard, the composer who turned out to have feet of the hardest clay, has a last name spelled the same, letter-for-letter, as our author’s.
And as Shepard points out, “Shepherd” is the more common spelling of that surname.
So, when bookwriter George Furth, composer-lyricist Stephen Sondheim and director Hal Prince decided that their leading character would be called Shepard, Thomas Z. Shepard was well within his rights to wonder if they were giving him a veiled criticism.
(George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart can’t be blamed, for in their 1934 play on which the 1981 musical was based, they chose Richard Niles as the name of their sellout anti-hero.)
Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. All three MERRILY creators had collaborated splendidly with Shepard 11 years earlier when recording COMPANY. It gave Sondheim and Shepard their first Grammys of their eventual six together.
(That’s still a record in the cast album category.)
In fact, when MERRILY rolled along to Broadway, Sondheim and Shepard were still basking in the Grammy glow from their 1980 SWEENEY TODD win.
Include Shepard’s non-cast albums, and you’ll see he has 12 – more than Sondheim’s ANYONE CAN WHISTLE had Broadway performances. And if “it’s an honor just to nominated,” then Shepard has been honored an astonishing 50 times.
MERRILY’s contract with RCA Victor stated that the company wasn’t contractually bound to record it if the show didn’t reach 21 performances. MERRILY ran only 16, but you know what Shepard decided, and thank him heartily.
In 1984, Shepard shepherded SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE’s to another cast album Grammy. Yes, a tense moment occurred at the recording session when Sondheim feared that something Shepard had just said would insult the easily ruffled Mandy Patinkin.
A much bigger conflict between the two happened when Shepard was planning FOLLIES IN CONCERT. It would not only be a two-night extravaganza at what was then Avery Fisher Hall, but also a recording that would right the wrongs of the original cast album that amputated much of the score. Shepard cast the role of Phyllis before telling Sondheim, who had already promised it to Lee Remick. How dare Shepard take that liberty!
That wasn’t the only headache that Shepard would face when trying to get FOLLIES into the concert hall. Given that he wanted the New York Philharmonic to accompany an all-star cast, the event would cost around $700,000 – over two million in today’s money.
Any cast album is expensive. Even MARRY ME A LITTLE, with two unknowns as the entire cast and minimal musical accompaniment, cost $50,000 in 1982. (Translation: $172,000 today.) But Shepard wanted to record these little-known and unknown Sondheim songs, and did.
Costs for the 1976 multi-disc PORGY AND BESS were slightly lessened because orchestras for operas — and certainly PORGY AND BESS has the credentials to be called one — are under a less generous contract than orchestras for musicals; as a result, operas are, surprisingly enough, less expensive to record.
FOLLIES IN CONCERT’s budget would have been higher if Shepard had offered every performer more than scale. Still, seven Tony-winners and four former nominees said yes.
Hell, wouldn’t you have paid to be in it?
Some declined but didn’t say money was the reason. Find out what famous Broadway producer refused when Shepard asked him to play Dimitri Weismann. Discover what Tony winner he asked next, only to be turned down because the legend deemed the role too small.
While casting was going on, Shepard still had to worry that RCA Victor’s higher-ups wouldn’t approve. Many did, but Jose Menendez, the most important executive, didn’t respond for 15 months.
(Does the name sound familiar? Four years later, it would be much in the news.)
Menendez finally did respond on July 2, 1985, a mere 56 days before the first of two concerts was to take place.
No way, Jose said.
Learn how and why it all worked out, to the benefit of Shepard, Sondheim, the luminary-filled cast and, for that matter, us.
After that triumph, you’d think that Shepard would be golden with Sondheim. But in 1994, he would again feel Sondheim’s terrible swift sword, slammed in a hate-letter that Show Music magazine published.
Those who recall the contretemps may have wondered if Shepard would acknowledge this in his book or all-too-conveniently leave it out. No: Shepard, aside from one ellipsis, includes it. Give him credit or, if he had been initially reluctant to publish the diatribe, applaud his co-writer Gayden Wren for convincing him.
Shepard’s love for musicals began when he saw the original OKLAHOMA! as a tyke. How thrilling, then, in 1964 for him to make a solid studio cast album, and – 15 years after that, thanks to the 1979 revival – make what many believe is the best recording of the score.
By then, Shepard had learned his craft from a murderously hard act to follow: Goddard Lieberson, the guru of cast album recordings. As Shepard wittily quips, “How many people are there whose nickname could be God?”
That “God” was always into details, and so is Shepard when greatly detailing the intricacies of making a cast album. How many sound effects are needed to create an atmosphere? When are there too many?
He’ll tell you what a panoramic potentiometer is, and why it proved valuable on his 1962 recording of SHOW BOAT.
You’ll find that there are advantages of recording at 30 inches per second rather than the usual 15. Why group numbers are usually recorded before solos, and why using five or so dancers to tap a few times in a row is ultimately better than having an entire cast doing it once. He also recalls recording A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC in quadrophonic sound because “quad was supposed to be the next big thing.”
Well, to quote AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ — another Shepard Grammy-winning cast album — “One never knows, do one?”
Time is the enemy of each session. Equity insists that cast members in a currently running show are paid a week’s salary for eight hours work but get an additional week’s salary if the session is even one minute longer.
There are details of many luminaries. Jonathan Tunick included an actual piece of Mahler in “The Ladies Who Lunch.” Maury Yeston got some money from LA CAGE AUX FOLLES. Once 42ND STREET was a smash hit, producer David Merrick was still smarting from the snub that Rodgers and Hammerstein gave him more than a quarter century earlier when they wouldn’t deign to write FANNY for him. So, when Richard Rodgers requested tickets to the show, Merrick happily obliged by giving the legend seats… in the balcony.
Jerry Herman made a request during the DEAR WORLD recording session that he felt “would help with my sex life.” Elaine Stritch made an unexpected observation about Hal Prince during the recording session of COMPANY when she wasn’t failing at the microphone – an experience Shepard relates in delicious detail.
Shepard also predicts that, despite his ups and downs with Sondheim, both will be linked when his obituary is written. Perhaps, but one thing is certain: generations of musical theater lovers will be reading Recording Broadway: A Life in Cast Albums long after that obituary.
Peter Filichia can be heard most weeks of the year on www.broadwayradio.com. His calendar – A SHOW TUNE FOR TODAY: 366 Songs to Brighten Your Year – is now available on Amazon.
