#RIPSondheim

The loss of an idol, icon, iconoclast...and instructor

The year ends with losses

The day after Thanksgiving, after spending the previous evening with friends, composer Stephen Sondheim died, apparently unexpectedly. He was 91, so perhaps “unexpected” isn’t exactly the right word, but he was going to be gone too soon no matter when he went.

I heard via an email from a friend who said she thought of me immediately when she heard “the news about Sondheim.” With dread I rushed online to confirm what that could clearly only mean. And I cried.

I cried nearly as much as when my stepdad died exactly one month earlier. I cried as a precursor, it felt later, to crying while I was watching Tony Bennett’s last performance on TV.

And maybe somewhere I was also crying as we approach 800K American deaths from COVID…many of which were utterly preventable. And crying for the impending loss of civil rights for women, and the ongoing struggle for even the bare minimum of justice and rights for Black people, trans people, and really so so many people.

The holidays are a tough time without these heavy losses, because they inevitably remind us of even long-past losses. So if my year-end newsletter seems maudlin, I hope you’ll indulge me, and I will try to start 2022 with fire and fervor.

Sondheim was my musical and intellectual idol. He was my answer to the question “If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, past or present, living or dead, who would it be?” Some people choose beloved late relatives. I chose a beloved artist and unaware mentor.

I’ve had the honor to play four Sondheim roles…starting as the “Somewhere” soloist in West Side Story, then Petra in A Little Night Music, Emma Goldman in Assassins, and most challenging of all Faye in Anyone Can Whistle, one of his true flops that closed, literally, on the day I was born after only 12 previews and 9 performances. Obviously it was a sign.

My most searing memory of performing Sondheim, though, was joining a hastily-assembled choir of nearly 100 other local performers to sing the song “Sunday” from Sunday in the Park with George as the finale of the memorial service for a much beloved local musical director who died during the AIDS crisis in the 90s. The catharsis of singing those last big beautiful chords at our full forte power was followed immediately by the catharsis of bursting into tears for many of us. I still cannot hear the song today without immediate tears to my eyes.

I’ve seen countless Sondheim productions, including Broadway productions of Gypsy, Into the Woods (original cast), Passion (original cast), Sunday, Sweeney Todd (original cast), Follies, A Little Night Music, and many other productions of West Side Story, Forum, Company, Merrily, and Assassins.

Common complaints about Sondheim were that people found his subject matter unusual, his music complicated, his lyrics cold, or if not cold, then too clever by half. None of this rang true for me at all. His subjects were big…what it means to be an artist, what it means to fall in love or not, what it means to raise children or not, what it means to pursue your calling, what it means to be an American, what it means to persevere, what it means to succeed, and to fail. Just the biggest most existential common threads between us all.

I find much of his music achingly poignant. I cry through entire segments of Sunday in the Park. Sweeney Todd left 15 year old me shattered in my seat. The list goes on. I am as utterly emotionally wrung out by his work as I am intellectually delighted by some of his most creative and tongue-twisting lyrics.

If I started sharing snippets of video or lyrics, this newsletter would never end. Suffice to say that no one else has ever approached the creative delight and skill of including both these lyrics seamlessly in one show:

From Into the Woods

“There’s no time to sit and dither
While her withers wither with her…”

“Sometimes people leave you, halfway through the wood.
Do not let it grieve you, no one leaves for good.”

Or from Sunday:

“Stop worrying if your vision is new,
Let others make that decision, they usually do.”

Or really any of the lyrics from Finishing the Hat.

The aspect of Sondheim’s genius that I knew less about was his devotion to mentoring others and encouraging the next (many) generations). If you watched the recent movie version of Tick Tick Boom you know how Sondheim encouraged a young Jonathan Larsen, and director Lin-Manuel Miranda was eager to include that bit of homage to Sondheim in it.

But if you’d like to see Sondheim’s day to day generosity of spirit, follow the Instagram account Sondheim Letters. I know of two such letter recipients personally…one who became a sort of pen pal with Sondheim in her teens and one who received a much treasured letter when he was in his 40s. Turns out he sent letters like theirs on the regular. This wonderful episode of The Daily podcast from the NY Times reveals how even the Times’s chief theatre critic received Sondheimian encouragement as a youth.

Sondheim was also known for coaching young singers with kindness but taking them very very seriously. He was not just a master; he was a teacher.

Which, circling back, reminds me of my stepdad, whose birthday would have been today, coincidentally. He was a visual artist and an art teacher in middle and high school, and he loved the kids. He loved even the kids who most teachers might find problematic. And they loved him back, as we discovered when some of them left messages on his online obituary.

I had a teacher like that once. They are priceless.

I’d love to hear any Sondheim stories you have. I have more, but I’ve waxed elegiac long enough.

I’ll leave you with one heartbreakingly beautiful scene that has always been one of my favorites. At 1:40 the tears start coming for me and don’t really stop, from the sheer beauty of it. A true melding of song and performers in perfection:

Last week-ish

Coming out of Thanksgiving and the melancholy of the past few weeks I did not record a podcast episode. Nor do I have new published Rosie Report articles.

I did, however spotlight two more P.E.A.R.L. Pledge grant program recipients from my project with Pearl Milling Company. Check out my Insta post spotlighting The Ellington Fund and the Urban Growers Collective.

Again, you can read their press release (including to see the other amazing women who served on the advisory council with me), review the full list of recipients there, and please do check out my first post on Instagram telling you a bit more about a couple of the recipients, Girls for a Change and Black Girl Ventures.

I’m grateful to have been part of this initative and to learn about so many organizations doing important work to uplift Black women and girls!

Coming this week-ish

I’m doing a livestream tomorrow at 2PM PT with Megan Powers from Powers of Marketing all about how to do your best when engaging with media (and the strange alignment I see between talking to a reporter and talking to someone with whom you disagree politically!) Check it out!

I posted late last week about being open to more pitches for The Rosie Report. Read more about the kinds of things I’m looking for and either comment or email me if you’re interested!

Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts on any or all of the above. This is basically my blog now! And as always I appreciate a share of this newsletter or my podcast.

And if I can help you break through the things that are keeping you stuck, or if you just want to fangirl over Sondheim with me some more, set up your first introductory 30-minute consult for free by booking it in my Calendly.