Passionate Causes
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 12th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
The environmental decline is a major issue. It is probably the single most important issue today. The lack of acceptance of responsibility will kill us all. Everyone has to do something.
Currently I am working on putting on Ibsen’s “An Enemy of the People”. Even though it was written in 1882, it might as well have been written today, in America, about this time, about this government.
It is the story of Dr. Stockmann, a popular doctor in a small town in coastal Norway. He and his brother develop an idea to create medicinal hot spring baths, thereby turning the town into a major tourist attraction and the whole town is thrilled at the potential prosperity this will bring. But the doctor soon learns that these baths are poisonous and contaminated with waste from the local tannery. They are making people sick. When he speaks out, every last person turns against him. He is not only shunned but vilified and treated as a lunatic. But he perseveres, challenging the establishment.
We all have to be Dr. Stockmann. These days it can’t be just a few voices, it has to be everyone.
What is happening in the world…
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 11th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
What is happening in the world keeps me awake at night. I am angry at Bush for what he has done to America and the world. There is neither logic nor compassion there. I have so many questions to ask the government. Why do we pay our farmers not to grow crops when there are people starving in the world? Why are our troops in Iraq and not Darfur where they could be saving lives? When is this country going to stop living on money borrowed from other nations? When are we going to stop destroying the ecosystems that give us life? Do we not care about our future and the future of the world?
Looking For New Projects
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 7th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I look for projects that tell a story about humanity. Stories with characters that draw you in, that bring you in so deeply that you become a part of their struggle. Sometimes the most important and genuine thing you can do for an audience member is just to play their fantasies out before them, right or wrong. Give them a mirror, a space to play out their all their “what ifs?”
Sometimes, the best thing you can do for an audience is to give them a chance to breathe, to make them laugh, to rejuvenate them with the strength to face their individual struggles after the show is over. But these are critical times. More and more, we need art and theater that corresponds to the circumstances.
We are in a unique time in human history. The world appears to be falling apart around us. What makes a story work is the same as it has always been, but the need to awaken people to what is going on in the world grows every day.
The Lives of Others
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 6th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I saw the most incredible film several weeks ago called The Lives of Others. It is the story of an East German Stassi officer who is assigned to spy on a playwright. He is instructed to find a reason to imprison him, so the officer bugs his home and sets up round-the-clock surveillance. He watches the life the playwright has with his beautiful actress girlfriend and his circle of literary friends. He watches this man’s struggle, his battle for integrity and creative fulfillment under often very difficult circumstances. The officer becomes intimate with even the most secret details of this man’s life, and it changes him completely.
I was moved by this story. I thought it was the perfect metaphor for great theater. As an audience, we become secretly intimate with the details of some people’s lives and through this discovery there is a hope that we can be transformed into something beyond anything we imagined.
Art
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 5th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I am emphatic about art and many types of art work. I love paintings and sculptures. I see that good art also tells a story, but perhaps a more delicate and ephemeral sort.
I recently bought the most beautiful painting by Claudio Bravo. He is a contemporary realist painter whose work I love. It is a stunning painting of green silk, which tells a story about light and perception. It is very intriguing. What is this silk doing there? Has it been abandoned, discarded? Is it what was left after an undressing? Will it be the gown of some lovely woman?
Alex Katz, another favorite of mine, paints women. He paints women that you want to live with; want to know them and know about them. They are frozen in a moment - usually of reflection. I see them and want to know what happened just a moment before, and just a moment after. Its amazing, it never gets old.
Sculpture has a way of drawing you in. It makes you want to walk to the other side of it, and around it. You want to see it from all angles so you don’t miss anything.
Constant Self-Education
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 4th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I am inspired by the artistic passion of those who never stop learning, those who understand that excellence is not a place at which one arrives, but the way in which one travels. It is an appetite never sated.
Al Pacino is one of our greatest actors. One of his gifts is his passion for learning, his relentless curiosity and his hunger for mastery. When my production of Othello was playing, Christopher Plummer starred as a supreme Iago. Everyone talked about it. But Al Pacino did more than that. Al was there. Several times a week, he would show up in the back of the theater to watch the famed scene that ends Act One. He would stand in the back of the theater, in the dark, just watching, just taking it in.
And that’s how you do it. You watch. You study. You learn. You never stop. You raise the bar higher, every night, every time. The moment you stop, you begin to fade.
The Daily Aim
Posted by Barry Weissler on February 1st, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Every morning I wake up in anticipatory excitement. And so, every morning when I wake up, I lay in bed mentally visualizing all that I will need to do that day. I picture my day down to the smallest detail.
Although I have all the important appointments written in my calendar, I need to see everything in my mind’s eye. I know if I have a casting problem, I need to think about the people I will call to fix it. I think about my work and parse it out. This gives me a sense of order and ritual.
I am always setting higher goals for myself. It’s what keeps me young. I never stop. I am an order-maker in the center of a storm of chaos.
Without a high level of energy, everything I work on would fall apart. I have to be at the top of my game every single day. Exercise keeps the mental process keen, so I go to the gym every day. People who call me between the hours of eight and ten know that there is a chance that they will get the exercise version of me; breathy on a stationary bike. Yoga is also of great benefit because it helps the mind and body very directly.
The health of the mind is a priority. There are many ways to do this. I try to keep myself learning all the time, studying areas of knowledge outside the one of my immediate interest, theater. Learning foreign languages, exploring literature, art and music are all crucial activities for one involved in theater. Sometimes to solve a difficult problem, I need to wander around the Museum of Modern Art. It keeps my mentality fluid.
But the most important activity of the mind is a simple one. Stay open and involved. Be open and interested in the people around. Stay aware of what is going on in the world at large. No man is an island and we must know what is going on around us.
Spinach
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 31st, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Today’s story is about spinach. Well, not exactly spinach, but spinach and Anthony Quinn and his ex-Italian wife, Jolanda.
It was a cold winter in Canada during a blizzard. We were playing Zorba in Toronto and it was a huge success. Anthony Quinn was starring in it. People were treating Tony like royalty.
One day after a show we were invited by a Greek restaurateur to eat at his restaurant in honor of Tony’s wonderful performance. I had expected that it would be a lovely evening and quiet in the company of Fran, Jolanda, Tony and the gentleman who invited us.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we were ushered to the top floor, a private dining hall that to our surprise, was filled with people. Tony was tired and very unhappy about the crowd that immediately swallowed him.
After a time, we were seated at four long tables connected to make a giant hollow square. The tables were spilling over with every dish imaginable, except for spinach, Jolanda’s only request. “I want speenach!” she kept saying in her European accent. The waiters scrambled around trying to get her “speenach.”
Everyone sat there, quiet, staring at Tony, watching him chew every bite as he grew more and more annoyed. The food was practically piled to the ceiling. Jolanda again asked about her “speenach.” She only wants “speenach”. As Tony is turning red, fuming at all the people touching and picking at him, the noise and tension growing, he holds his utensils with white fists.
At that moment the owner of the restaurant jumps into the space inside the tables and begins to play spoons. At the end of the performance, the Greek man tries to give Tony a bear hug and Tony pushes him away. It turns into a shouting shoving match.
They are ready to kill each other and I can’t have my star injured, so I get between these two giants 6’6” and 6’ 4”, and I push them apart screaming. I grab Tony and Jolanda and we go downstairs. It’s still snowing so hard that we are forced to stay in the restaurant.
We retreat to a quiet table on the first floor where we order drinks. The maitre d’ comes up to the table and says, “Nice to see you again!” directly to Tony. Tony says, “I don’t know you.” The maitre d’ says, “Oh yes, don’t you remember?” Tony says “No.” The maitre d’ replies, “Oh yes, of course you do. Hold on.” The maitre d’ returns with a photo album of the restaurant and opens to a photo of Anthony Quinn, and indeed it is him. But he is not alone. He is at a table kissing Ingrid Bergman! Jolanda explodes. She pounds her fists on him as he runs out the door. She runs right after him. They take off through the blizzard with Fran and me right behind them and behind us, the small voice of the waiter shouting, “Lady! Lady! I have your speenach!”
The Opinions of People
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 30th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Kelly Osbourne has a great sense of humor. So do I. I can be insulted in the papers and laugh about it. She transformed herself into one very sexy Mama Morton for her role in CHICAGO. After the photos came out, it seemed every website had another opinion about how much digital manipulation there was in those images to shrink her waist or slim her face. Yes, she looked that good. And she took this disbelief with good humor.
There will never be a shortage of opinions in the world, and everyone is entitled to theirs. When an activity or creation gets large enough, it naturally attracts all kinds of reactions. If there is no variety among the reactions, then the project was not big enough or was not received by a wide audience. A project is big enough when it pleases some and offends others.
I am used to reading all kinds of things written about me. Sometimes, I feel as if the reviewer really gets what I do, and other times I am misunderstood. The entire trajectory of my decision making process is misinterpreted.
More often than not, a critic’s reviews will reveal more about the critic then it does about me. One of my all time favorite reviewers is Ben Brantely of the New York Times. He can give my shows or casting great reviews or poor ones, but underneath it he seems to live in a state of perpetual surprise and shock at what he calls my “bottomless brazenness.”
I see this average spectacled man lurking in the corners of lobbies of the shows he reviews. He spends his life in the stands, judging those on the court. He is very intelligent and has a reverence for theater that almost seems out of place. It is if theater was something so pure that even an audience could defile it by laughing or crying at the wrong time or witnessing it in the wrong way.
Not too long ago, he wrote about seeing that ad campaign for CHICAGO on the London underground. It was the one with Kelly Osbourne looking amazing. Somehow he took offense at the idea of Kelly Osbourne playing Mama Morton. First thing upon returning to NY, he has something to say about my old productions of Grease. I feel like he must travel around the world thinking about me. It’s strangely flattering to have someone so invested in your work that they comment on everything you do.
In show business, the worst thing that can happen to you is that you are forgotten. Ben Brantley single-handedly ensures that America never ever forgets me. And for this, I thank him. Besides, there are worse things to be derided for than brazenness.
Britney Hope Valentine
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 29th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Last year we were in talks with Britney Spears to star in Sweet Charity. In order to have a serious conversation about this, we had to fly her into New York. Flying Britney Spears into New York doesn’t mean just booking her a ticket. It means flying and accommodating her, two sets of parents, kids, nannies etc. So we talk, and I see she doesn’t have to play Charity Hope Valentine, she IS Charity Hope Valentine. She is a sweet girl who just wants love and keeps on picking the wrong guy. She is hopeful, sensitive, and still a kid trying very hard to grow up. At the end of the day she decided she wouldn’t do the show because it would mean being away from Kevin. Could you imagine Charity doing anything else?
Ushering in Chicago’s 10th Year
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 28th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
For the 10th Anniversary of Chicago, we needed a very special Billy Flynn: someone to reintroduce our show to a whole new generation of audience members. Usher was hot. He was riding high after the release of the Confessions album and sold-out tour. You saw him in every magazine and his songs were playing in all the clubs. Everyone told me there was no way at the top of his game he would put everything on hold and come to Broadway. I took a shot and it paid off. As it turned out, Usher is a huge fan of Bob Fosse, his godfather is Ben Vereen and he had always wanted to come to Broadway.
Now came the hard part. We had a huge international star. Usher grew up in the public eye in a culture obsessed with celebrity where the media feeds off of their successes and, even more so, their failures. Under constant scrutiny, it is no wonder many stars are so defensive, untrusting and suspicious. Usher is a perfectionist. He is a real artist in every sense of the word. He wanted creative input and control on every level, truly wanting to make this role his own. It certainly made my job more difficult.
But in the end, it was all worth it. Usher transcended his celebrity and became Billy Flynn. In addition, he transformed our audience. We saw younger and more diverse theatergoers filling the seats at the Ambassador. The excitement in the air was palpable. And outside the theatre was pandemonium. I had to hire extra security, block off the street, and put up police barricades! Fans who couldn’t get a ticket would wait outside during the show, singing Usher’s songs, waiting to get a glimpse of their idol.
Chicago Beauties
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 25th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
When it came time to decide on an advertising campaign for Chicago, it couldn’t have been easier. The story moved me, and I felt such an excitement and passion for it. The whole thing was a turn on. I couldn’t wait for audiences to see it. I wanted my enthusiasm to break through the billboards and ads. The photo shoot was crucial. What makes this Chicago so bold and sexy? What makes it smolder? This production works because there is an absolute dramatic focus on the characters. The strong and powerful women are the core of the show.
No ornaments, no distractions, no excess colors. Just these women.
It reminded me of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was fashionable without being so trendy as to feel dated by tomorrow afternoon. I told the photographer what I wanted. I said, “Make it dangerous, sexual and fashionable.”
He took it one step further. He heard me and he delivered!
You could neither miss nor avoid the giant dramatic beauties on the Broadway billboard that year.
“In This Town, Murder is Form of Entertainment.”
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 24th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
What made our 1996 revival production more successful than the original 1975 version? While I would love to accept full responsibility for the phenomenon that our revival has become, I know that as with most things, timing was everything. For nearly two years prior to our opening, America and the world had become enthralled with the OJ Simpson murder trial. Millions and millions of people around the world sat glued to their television screens as the entire story unfolded broadcast live and in color for their viewing pleasure. In Chicago, Matron Mama Morton tells Roxie, “In this town, murder is a form of entertainment.” That concept resonated with every member of the audience who came to see our show. They were living it. The same day opening remarks were made in the civil trial, we were having our first preview!
Chicago satirizes this twisted world of entertainment. The show continues to be a success in New York and around the world because, eleven years later, our culture has become more voyeuristic and celebrity obsessed. Reality television dominates the ratings, gossip magazines and websites flourish, and we have a whole generation of stars who are famous for being infamous. In the end, that’s all they need to fit Roxie Hart’s definition of celebrity: “Somebody everyone knows.” It is a case of art imitating life. Just substitute Velma and Roxie with Paris and Nicole and trade in Chicago’s Cook County jail for Promises rehab facility…actually in this case, the LA jail would work too.
And low and behold, who’s back in the news today. With a controversial new book and another arrest, the world, ready or not, is being served another glass of OJ. It makes Chicago’s message even more relevant. OJ and other celebrities feel as if they are above the law. Whether breaking into hotel rooms or driving drunk and without a license, these celebrities don’t seem to feel that they can and should be held accountable for their actions. No matter how deplorable or offensive those actions, at least they’ll get their name in the papers. You get a sense that each one of them craves the attention and publicity. Maybe it’s because none of them “got enough love in their childhood.” Oh well, “that’s showbiz kid!”
Rediscovering Chicago
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 23rd, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I always loved Chicago. It has a razor sharp spirit. I had been looking for a way to present it that was as brave as the story itself. I hadn’t seen it since 1975, and Chicago was one of the many great musicals relegated to the proverbial back shelf where it laid gathering dust. Strange, because the work itself was (and is) more pertinent than ever.
All around the world we see that justice is rarely just; that the rich and beautiful can get away with anything. The culture of celebrity has only become more hysterical and more global. We all are familiar with corruption. I knew Chicago would speak to people again and was worth reinvestigating.
The production in 1975 felt cartoon-like. It needed to be stripped down and tightly focused. I saw it at Encores, a retirement home for old musicals. It was done in a deconstructed minimalist way: bare and brave, right in the lap of the audience. I saw it and said to myself, “This is it.” That was ten years ago.
Producing
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 22nd, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
More than anything else, my job is about putting people together, and in the theater world this often is a little like building a family. It takes years of practice to do this well. You have to learn through years of work and testing to see what kind of person is good for what role. Of course, it is important to see their body of work, but that’s not enough. I must know what they stand for, and the chemistry between all the people must be right. For the life span of the project, we form a small society. And for the time we are together we are a kind of family. The bond that forms often outlives the project itself and comes to inform future endeavors.
As a producer, one is accountable for the family; keeping all the threads together, guiding and nurturing towards mutual goals. Nothing good comes out of pressure and even persuasion must be benevolent.
All of my hiring mistakes occurred when I hired by people for their reputations alone. You must know what you are dealing with. That is why it’s really best if you have grown together.
The Great Story
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 18th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
People ask me how I choose my projects. Is it instinct or knowledge? It’s gut instinct but if truth be known, this gut instinct comes from knowledge and experience. It takes years and years of work to hone the instincts. They do not come out of the air. They are impulses preset by what we learn. But instinct or no, anyone knows a great story from a weak one.
A great story is easy to recognize, yet hard to describe. In a great story you learn, and you get involved. These great stories are often character driven, but perhaps more importantly, they are idea driven. These great stories live in every part of life.
It can be in any of the arts. In theater, literature, music, dance, even the visual arts. A painting is a story that is more than just the subject of the painting. I saw a painting of Claudio Bravo’s recently. It was a painting of green silk. His technique has such a quality that it opens the imagination and makes me think of ideas. Great sculpture draws you in. You want to walk around it. You want to see it from all angles so you don’t miss anything.
Good theater must never be a demonstration. It must be a revelation. Great artists and directors understand this. The painter’s work is never just about the subject of the painting. Neither the painter nor great director will simply display. They let the wall between the audience and the stage or canvas dissolve. This takes courage and enormous self-confidence.
Bobby in Catholic School
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 17th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Robert DeNiro was one of the first actors we hired when Fran and I began producing shows for Catholic schools in New Jersey. We hired him for $60 a week and for an extra $10, he helped us carry the sets. That’s what it was like in those days. We were all starting from scratch.
We were doing Chekov’s “The Bear” at a high school in Peapack-Gladstone, New Jersey, when Bobby informs me that he got a part in a Brian DePalma film, “Greetings”. But it conflicts with the show schedule. We were doing two shows a day and had no understudies, so of course we couldn’t lose him. Film? What the hell? He got Brian to shoot the scenes for “Greetings” around our school show schedule. We were so young then, with no idea what lay in store for all of us.
Nothing Harder Than High School
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 16th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
People ask me how Fran and I learned to produce. My answer is always the same: you learn by doing. You learn as you go. Fran and I produced plays for children. We went to Catholic high schools, one after the other, sometimes to as many as eight a day. Can you imagine? A Jewish couple going to convents and monasteries proposing plays to nuns and priests, sometimes with seven or eight appointments a day? We just did what we loved.
We produced Tom Sawyer, Swiss Family Robinson, Shakespeare and Arthur Miller.
In retrospect, we couldn’t have invented better training. Can you imagine what it takes to keep a kid interested in Shakespeare? And children don’t lie. They don’t pretend to like things because they think it makes them look good. They are either into it or they are not. Once they’re bored, you’ve lost. There is no way around it. There’s no getting them back.
I remember once we were in a school in New Jersey putting on Shakespeare. This little doll-faced girl came up to me and asked, “What period is this play?” I was so impressed, I was so taken back that I had to search my mind. I said, “16th Century?” She replied, “No, silly! I mean is it 3rd period, 4th period or 5th period?” See, truly a tough crowd.
Bobby’s Rolls
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 15th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
Another thing I have learned is that people rarely become successful alone. It often happens in groups. Monet, Manet, and Renoir were all friends. They sat in cafes together dreaming, drinking absinthe, discussing and passionately arguing the details of composition or of how to paint light.
At first I decided to become an actor. I studied with Stella Alder. My parents were furious. They cut me off. They couldn’t understand that someone could consider the theater as a career, much less their only son. I suffered over this, but it only made me more determined.
In those days, Robert DeNiro was in school with me. He and I practiced scenes and ran lines together. If it wasn’t for Bobby, who knows what would have happened? When my parents cut me off, Bobby kept me alive. He befriended me and every morning he bought me a coffee and buttered roll. That was my daily bread and I lived on that for a time.
But that was also what I loved about the theater: the community; the sense of support and feeling of being in it together. Theater people get each other. Every actor and director knows well that slump that hits them after a show closes. It’s like a small death. The characters and their worlds simply vanish without a trace. That is why so many of us, even in the most difficult times, simply cannot stop. The only balm for the wound is the question, “What’s next?”
The Beginning
Posted by Barry Weissler on January 14th, 2008
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Originally published on Yahoo! Broadway
I woke up one morning in the 1960’s totally lost. I was in college. I wanted to be an athlete. I dreamt about bullfighting, about being a matador (not every urban Jewish boys dream). I wanted a passionate life, an exciting life. I wanted to play football on my college team but I was too light. There was no place for me on the college football team. To top it all off I was nearly failing my freshman year classes. I remember the day well. It was spring break and I was wandering the empty campus in despair. What was I to do with my life?
After a long while, I wandered into a barn-like building I had never been to before. It was the college theater. The students there were rehearsing Measure for Measure. It was a new experience for me. A new feeling. I walked into the warm, dimly-lit atmosphere. It was home. That moment was the beginning of my education. Up until that point, school had little meaning. Up until that point, I didn’t see much reason for all the things I was supposed to do. Now I had a context. Seven days a week, I was in the school library reading stories and plays. I went from failing all my classes to the top of the Dean’s list and to special seminar classes my professors taught in their homes.
I tell this story not because I want you to know how hard I worked or the passion I feel for theater. I tell you this because through life, we are always looking for ourselves. I tell you this because we all need a reason; a mirror, a context. We all need a frame for our story or a stage for our play.
I am grateful for that moment in that theater barn. It is context that brings power: that brings meaning to life.
