The denizens of Broadway are dedicated to celebrating recently departed legends, pulling friends, coworkers, and assorted theaterfolk together for weekday matinee celebrations. Latest on the list is songwriter Jerry Herman, who died on the day after Christmas at the age of 88—which, as was gleefully pointed out, is the same number as keys on a piano.
Herman’s tuneful catalog provided plenty of top-flight material, and the large number of performers who’ve worked on his shows and concerts thronged the Lunt—one song each, please—with a cascade of audience favorites. A 29-piece orchestra was ensconced on stage, blasting out a veritable parade of what Jerry delighted in calling showtunes.
And what a parade it was, consisting of highlight after highlight. The festivities began by tuning the grand up (as Jerry would say) with the brass-and-banjo filled overture to Mame. On came Marilyn Maye, who’s been singing “It’s Today” since 1966, belting that paean to living across the footlights despite her 91 years (and counting). This was just a warmup. After Jeremy Jordan essayed Hello Dolly’s “It Only Takes a Moment,” on came Debbie Gravitte with a comedic spitfire rendition of “Wherever He Ain’t” from Mack & Mabel. Which, as part of an unplanned mini-Jerry Herman celebration, will be seen at City Center Encores! starting February 19.
While songlists typically make less-than-dynamic prose, the most direct way of giving a taste of the event and the performers is to simply step through the program. The songs come from six musicals: One from Dear World, two each from La Cage aux Folles and The Grand Tour, three from Mack & Mabel, four from Hello, Dolly!, and six from Mame.
Sutton Foster (characteristically fine with a rousing “I Don’t Want to Know”) was followed by a performer who slinked on in the semi-darkness for “Gooch’s Song,” only to rotate on the first big belted tone revealing that she was costumed and supremely pregnant. (Part of the song.) The singer was extremely effective and extremely funny; she was also extremely unrecognizable, as the onstage introduction was inaudible. The singer turned out to be extremely expert in the manner of the treasured Jane Connell, with a couple of vocal stretches that sounded vaguely familiar to ears grasping to identify her. When she sat on the lip of the stage, feet dangling into the auditorium like her mother at the Palace, her identity became clear. Who knew Lorna Luft was this good?
Next came Ron Raines with an ensemble of 16 or so singers to spotlight the top-notch original vocal arrangement of “Mame.” This was from the days when you actually hired 16 singers for the chorus, instead of 10 or 12 singer/dancers who are so busy that they can’t stand still long enough to create such a strong sound. This number was conducted by 94-year-old Don Pippin, who created the original arrangement as Jerry’s longtime musical director and vocal arranger.
Tyne Daly and Klea Blackhurst hit the comic bases with—no surprise here—“Bosom Buddies”; nor was it a surprise, given the stellar lineup, when Kristin Chenoweth came on for “If He Walked into My Life.” Next up was Jason Graae, who produced an oboe and proceeded to sing, play, and clown his way through “You I Like,” fully demonstrating that he belonged up there with the assorted Broadway luminaries. (Many of the company have toured extensively with Herman, and were performing routines they have mastered in the past.)
Next came Michael Feinstein, a prime supporter of the composer who has consistently featured his songs, with “I Won’t Send Roses.” The surprise of the afternoon turned out to be Leslie Uggams, who started out quietly with what turned out to be a ferociously dynamic rendition of “I Am What I Am.” In an afternoon filled with vociferous audience response, Uggams—who continues to astonish, after all these years—got the entire orchestra floor up out of their seats.
Next came three Dolly numbers, starting with “It Takes a Woman.” John Bolton—announced from the stage as “the real John Bolton”—led the number, presumably flying in from the national tour (this week: Naples, Florida). Lewis J. Stadlen, who played Vandergelder in an earlier stage of the tour, was listed in the program but not in evidence. Then came Kelli O’Hara (on “Before the Parade Passes By”) and Betty Buckley (singing the title song, without the red dress).
Next up was Jerry himself, on video, singing “I’ll Be Here Tomorrow.” This was followed by another one of those only-one-name-is-necessary performers called Bernadette. Unlike in other songwriter memorials, she was the only original cast member actually recreating a song she first introduced—“Time Heals Everything”—and Peters was quite as effective as she’d been as a waif-like newcomer in the 1974 Mack & Mabel. The evening ended with Lee Roy Reams leading the cast and hand-clapping audience in, no surprise here, “The Best of Times.”
Marc Bruni directed the fast-paced 90 minutes, the proceedings propelled by a top-notch band led by Larry Blank. The full orchestra played mostly the original charts by 11 arrangers led by Philip J. Lang, all of whom—through the unaccustomed courtesy of the management—received title page credit.
The evening was interlaced by five speakers, including two on video. Angela Lansbury seemed a bit frail, inaccurately recounting that Herman had introduced her to the musical stage (which she had memorably conquered two years before Mame in some Sondheim musical). Sir Paul McCartney also chimed in, speaking of his fondness for Jerry from what is apparently his living room with two authentic-looking Impressionist paintings half visible in the frame. (McCartney’s father-in-law, John Eastman, was for a while Herman’s publisher.)
Speaking in person were Herman’s goddaughter Jane Dorian, who had a life full of memories to relate briefly; Herman’s longtime friend Alice Borden, who described the weekend in 1963 when Herman wrote four songs “on spec” for Hello, Dolly! and she accompanied him to David Merrick’s office to sing the audition that got Jerry the job; and Harvey Fierstein, who related how when he started to collaborate on La Cage Herman lived in an overwhelmingly beige townhouse with a Mame-like staircase and houseboy, while the poverty-stricken Fierstein was wearing a bulky winter jacket with strips of mylar patching the holes. Harvey regaled the house with laughter and—like the other in-person speakers—wound up near tears.
The memorial was produced by Dorian, Feinstein, and Herman’s husband, Terry Marler; Herman specifically directed Marler to put Dorian and Feinstein in charge. This, it turns out, was the precise right choice. The afternoon—from performers to selection of material to tasteful projection work—was lovingly and cannily assembled, always in the very best of taste (and with no expense seemingly spared). One felt that Jerry himself was sitting there, personally supervising every element of his very own memorial. He likely would have loved every single moment, and implored everyone to get back together next month in Washington/Los Angeles/London to do it all again.
Jerry Herman: A Memorial Celebration was presented for one performance, February 3, 2020, at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.
