Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'

For a while now I have been thinking about how much theatre - musical theatre in particular - has been a source of comfort and joy throughout my life. This morning, my commute was infinitely improved with the discovery of a long-lost Ragtime soundtrack. So, I thought it a good time to begin what I hope can be a regular series about show tunes. One song recently on my mind is “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” from Oklahoma!

I realize there are some people who see Oklahoma! as naive, or even “cheesey”, and I will admit that I felt that way about it for quite some time. But after discovering the 1998 Royal National Theatre production on PBS a few years ago, I’ve been converted. That production, directed by Susan Stroman, had a realistic quality to it in which the characters felt as close to real people as a musical with dancing cowboys and farmers could possibly be. Plus, “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” is an easy song to sing and holds an interesting place in American theatre history with a connection to today’s “history maker”, Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton.

Both Oklahoma! and Hamilton are considered “ground breaking” in their time. We understand how that moniker can be given to Hamilton, but perhaps it is less obvious for Oklahoma! The Rodgers and Hammerstein staple was an experiment in musical theatre when it premiered in 1943. Musical theatre at the time followed a typical structure with song-and-dance numbers and action reminiscent of Vaudeville and other variety entertainments. However, when the curtain rises on Oklahoma!, Aunt Eller sits alone on stage as Curley enters the scene singing the opening number all on his own. In the HBO documentary Six by Sondheim, Stephen Sondheim, who was a protege of Oscar Hammerstein II, describes this as an example of how Hammerstein’s greatest influence in American theatre is his work as “an experimental playwright”. Sondheim himself would further alter the musical theatre structure with his self-described “conversational songs” and word play. Things brings us to Hamilton, which alters musical theatre structure again with the inclusion of rap and hip-hop into conventional theatre. More directly, there is a line of mentorship between these three artists. As Sondheim was mentored by Hammerstein, Miranda learned from Sondheim (who Miranda affectionately calls “Sondheezy”). (This lineage has a role in the history of American young playwrights programs, too.)

This clip from the 1998 production at the Royal National Theatre in London is the version I enjoy the most. If you haven't seen it in full, check it out on the PBS website. I also use this video when lecturing about musical theatre, or in some playwriting workshops with young people. Hugh Jackman is a big appeal, especially to those students who know him primarily as Wolverine. (And wow, can he sing!)

How Lucky We Are

We can learn a lot from the theatre. We learn from our experiences as audience members by absorbing and reflecting upon the adventures, connections, and struggles of the characters who inhabit the story on stage. We also learn through the process of creating art; I’m fortunate to work in a field where I get to see students transformed by their experiences creating, rehearsing, and performing original theatre works. And this past Sunday the entire world had the chance to learn from the passion and compassion of theatre-makers on the Tony Awards.

I “grew up” in the theatre. My first experiences were performing in elementary school plays, but it was in middle school when I really connected to it. I’ve written about this before, but I feel that the opportunities I had in the theatre as a kid saved my life. James Corden’s effusive opening number, “That Could Be Me” (at right), was so poignant: that young, dreaming child in the song WAS me. It was many of us who have made a life in the theatre.

There’s a joy and wonderment in the work that we do and many of us “theatre people” are just so thankful to be able to do what we do. I saw that sense of thankfulness and a level of compassion and encouragement in the speeches given by just about all of the Tony winners. My friend, Braden Bell, wrote a beautiful blog post about that this morning. (So, while I initially wanted to post this on Monday, I’m glad it was delay so as to include Braden’s words.) Also, the Broadway world used these moments to lift us up in the wake of that morning’s horrors in Orlando. (See the LA Times for a collection of these.) I particularly appreciated the statement by Hamilton producer Jerry Seller speaking about a vision of America that “embodies the best values, the best impulses that make our nation a beacon to the world: inclusiveness, generosity, ingenuity, and the will to work hard and make our dreams come true.” He finished with a repeated phrase from the show: “Look around. Look around. How lucky we are to be alive right now.”

The Tony Awards had a difficult job to do. How can we possible celebrate in the face of danger and uncertainty? This is a time when it is easy to feel defeated. Horrible things happen around us, and to us, but we have a choice of how to respond and how to move forward. It is fascinating to hear the characters of Hamilton sing about how lucky they are to be alive in a world that is turned upside down, but that’s the perspective we need to keep moving ahead. If I’ve ever questioned how something so lighthearted as musical theatre can be relevant in difficult and important times, the answer is now quite clear. Theatre is not an escape from the world (as some might argue), but an answer to it. (Or at least a suggestion.) What was said and done at the Tony Awards on Sunday put that idea on display for us all to see, and feel, and reflect upon, just as any work of theatre is supposed to do.

How lucky am I to be alive and working in the field right now?