Biography of a Song: "A Little Priest"

Mrs. Lovett: There you go again. You’ve got to start being practical, believe me, or you’ll come to a sticky end. I mean, what about this Eyetalian in here? What are you going to do with him? And what about his lad downstairs? Such a cheery soul, he is. If trade was better I’d take him on to help me, but…. Todd: (going to the chest) You’re right! First we’ll dispose of him, then think about the boy. (He opens the chest and looks down at the body) Mrs. Lovett: That’s what I like to hear. Bit of common sense. What’ll you do with him? BY MARK EDEN HOROWITZ A Little Priest “A Little Priest” is quintessential Sondheim. It is a combination of song and musicalized scene. It’s a list song and a comic tour de force, though its subject matter is dark and shocking. The song borrows aspects of many traditions but puts them together to create something unique. As a theatre song it serves several dramatic purposes. The craft is impeccable, and the jokes are to die for — literally. In a 1997 interview, Sondheim cited Cole Porter’s “Let’s Do It” as an example of a song “that takes an idea and plays with it for four minutes.” He wryly added: “I like to say Rodgers and Hammerstein spoiled it for all of us, because you can’t write those frivolous songs anymore.” “Those songs” had to come up with delightful, unexpected rhymes, images that were funny and clever and, usually, to be increasingly shocking through innuendo and double entendre — without incurring the cut of the censor. The only structural requirement was for the jokes to build, saving the biggest and best for last. “A Little Priest” accedes to that tradition and, though not frivolous, it plays with its ideas for eight minutes! From the Rodgers and Hammerstein tradition, the song becomes an explosion of the characters’ emotions — so fulsome that they can’t be expressed in dialogue alone. Using the lessons he learned from Arthur Laurents (librettist for Gypsy) on the power of subtext, Sondheim motivates Mrs. Lovett. Yes, she desires monetary success, but even more she desires Sweeney. When Sweeney responds to her proposal so greedily, she turns the song into a seduction. And for a practical dramatist, this is arguably the most important number in the show, as it must also succeed in seducing the audience into accepting the most outlandish and distasteful of developments. BACKGROUND: Dating from at least as early as the 1830s, there have been many versions of the story of Sweeney Todd. However, the source for Sondheim’s version was brought to life by Christopher Bond, a young actor who wrote his adaptation of the story in 1968. Sondheim saw a production in London in 1973 and, for the first time in his career, was so taken with a work as possible source material for a musical that he immediately pursued the rights and persuaded his collaborating director, Harold Prince, to join forces on the project. His initial plan was to do the adaptation by himself. The following is the scene in Bond’s script that would become the basis of “A Little Priest”: 20 The Sondheim Review Todd: Bury his body in some secret place where no one will ever find it. Mrs. Lovett: Do we have to? Seems a shame to bury him. (Todd looks at her.) With business so bad. Todd: I don’t understand. He’ll eat no more pies … Mrs. Lovett: No, he couldn’t eat them — but he might help in the making of ’em — in a manner of speaking. Todd: The boy—Tobias Ragg, you mean? Mrs. Lovett: Well, he might help sell them, perhaps — but that gent in there — it would be a pity to waste him. I mean, he is nice and plump, isn’t he? (Todd begins to understand) And with meat the price it is these days … Todd: Oh sweet, delectable, rare and choice. By my assistance you shall never want for meat, Mrs. Lovett. Your pies shall be the wonder of the town. For every customer who comes up here shall serve the ones below. They both start to giggle, then fall into each other’s arms laughing helplessly, as — the CURTAIN falls. xxxxxx Fearing that his adaptation was becoming overlong, Sondheim decided to collaborate with a librettist who would edit judiciously. Hugh Wheeler was the obvious choice. He had written the book for A Little Night Music and, more recently, had contributed to Pacific Overtures, but most importantly, he was a British mystery writer and well-versed in the Sweeney Todd legend. Who could be a better collaborator for “A Musical Thriller”? Among Sondheim’s manuscripts for “A Little Priest” is this draft of the scene by Wheeler, dated August 31, 1977 (underlines indicate annotations by Sondheim; in the case of “devour” and “power” they are words he has circled — probably to highlight the unintentional rhyme). That the libretto so presages the final lyric for the verse is proof of the sympathetic collaboration between Sondheim and Wheeler. CONTINUES ON PAGE 22 The Sondheim Review 21 BIOGRAPHY OF A SONG, FROM PAGE 21 Mrs. Lovett: …The boy’s drunk and I can fob him off with some story easy. There’s no problem there. But … him! Todd: (Looking down into the chest) When it’s dark, we’ll take him to some secret place and bury him. Mrs. Lovett: Well, we could do that, dear. And yet … You know me. Sometimes ideas just pop into me head and I keep thinking … (Pause) Seems a shame. Todd: A shame? Mrs. Lovett: Seems such a waste! I mean, he’s nice and plump, isn’t he? And there’s plenty other gentlemen in the prime of life’ll be popping in for a quick shave now you’re set up with your nice new Parlor. (Pause, watching him) Seeing as ’ow you feel it your duty like to put them all out of their misery – well, waste not, want not, you know. (Pause) When you think of Mrs. Mooney doing such a roaring trade with her pussy cats. Now pussy cats couldn’t compare when it comes to tastiness, could they? And even a plump one’s only good for three/four pies at most. Get my drift? (We see TODD gazing at her now as gradually he begins, in his crazed mood, to understand) What about it, Mr. T? (Suddenly wild excitement wells up in TODD) (Chuckles, Vamp change) Todd: Oh Mrs. Lovett, how sweet, delectable and rare and choice. Mrs. Lovett: Well, it’s an idea. Todd: What is this life but man devouring man? In the markets, in the law courts, in the corridors of Power? Why not at the table too? Oh Mrs. Lovett, your pies shall be the wonder of the town, for every customer who comes up here shall serve the ones below. (THEY both start to giggle, then, fall into each other’s arms, sing: DUET: MRS. LOVETT AND TODD in which they extol the good days ahead. END OF ACT ONE.) xxxxx 22 The Sondheim Review LYRICS: Sondheim has frequently described lyric writing as a hellish pursuit. In the case of “A Little Priest” there is an extraordinary amount of notes and lyric sketches — 40 pages in man- uscript and an additional 26 pages of annotated typescripts! Far more than I’ve seen for any other of his songs I’ve examined. Strange as it may seem, he has also said that Sweeney Todd was a comparatively easy show to write. The “bright ideas” in “A Little Priest” are so wickedly delicious and seem to flow so effortlessly that one hopes he derived some pleasure from the process. The Wheeler script pages obviously provided rich fodder for the verse, but the only actual phrase that seems to inspire any part of the body of the song is “What is this life but man devouring man?” Lifted from the Bond script are the phrases: “Oh sweet, delectable, rare and choice” and “For every customer who comes up here shall serve the ones below.” There are no other specific phrases in the text that suggest directions the song might take — other than the general sense of delight that Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett find in the prospect of their joint venture. The lyric sketches do not appear to have been retained in order of creation, making it virtually impossible to establish their evolution, although there are several sections that obviously grow one from the other. My best guess as to the first page of sketches has the heading “End Act I”. Unlike most of the sketches, it doesn’t focus on any one section or topic, but plays with a number of ideas and directions that the song might take. Several ideas go nowhere: the line “The best pies in London” suggests a parallel to Mrs. Lovett’s opening number, “The Worst Pies in London”; two sections toy with doggerel verse, “Hey nonny hey nonny no” and “Black pudding, black pudding, black pudding pie.” The phrase “The ones up there serve the ones below” leads to a path of how one profession feeds on another: “The grocer feeds [serves] the butcher/feeds the lawyer feeds the priest”; and then “The priest eats the lawyer,/The lawyer (eats) the chef.” The priest shows up in two other sections on this page; at the top in a note that reads: “Puns — priests make clerical pie — pious pie etc. — heavenly” and, toward the bottom in the line, “We’ll dress up the menu with artist + priest.” Though a couple of other professions appear on the page, four lines focus on the Beadle, including “I’ll have a small Beadle/They only come large.” The page ends with the pithy couplet “The wicked + the mighty/Shall be saved, then served.” (I wonder if the phrase might have made the final cut had it been “… shaved, then served”). On the following page, titled “GENERAL,” the ideas for the song truly begin to coalesce. The first lines on this page feel on the verge of creative discovery: “There are many different types./Some are rare, some stringy, etc.” And along the right margin, Sondheim begins listing several types to consider: Bishop, Priest, Earl, Lord, etc., and, in a few instances, paired with words and phrases: “Artist — smartest” and “Sweep — dark meat.” Again, his notes on this page include the notion of professions feeding on one another: “We don’t have judge — would you settle for his employer?/You mean you have lawyer” and, a few lines later, “The lawyer’s employer — the thief.” There are two other lines that fail to bear fruit in the finished song, but they’re too much fun not to share: “The supply will be virtually endless — we only serve meat wot is friendless,” and “Chacun à son goût” (French for “Each to his taste” — rejected, perhaps as being too highfalutin’ for Todd or Mrs. Lovett). The final line on the page seems to give birth to the title and to narrow the song’s focus: “Have you tried the priest?” What I presume to be the next page is unti- xxxxxx CONTINUES ON PAGE 24 The Sondheim Review 23 Sondheim listed more than 100 professions and types to consider as “ingredients” in “A Little Priest.” Accountant Actor Anglican Apprenticed Artist Artiste Attorney Bailiff Baker Banker Barker Barrister-at-law Beadle Beggars Bellboy Bellows maker Bishop Bookmaker Brigadier Broker Butcher Butler Cabinet maker Candle maker Carpenter Cashier Chef Civil Engineer Clergy Clergyman Cleric Clerk Cobbler Coffin maker Constable Cook Costermonger Counsel Counselor-at-law Cricketeer Crier Curate Dean Dentist Doctor Drinker Drummer Duke Dyer Earl Employer Engraver Flute player Footman Fop 24 The Sondheim Review Friar Friendless Gardener Gentlemen Gigolo Gondolier Government ministers Greengrocer Grenadier Grocer Groom Guardsmen Hatter Hun Inspector Iron merchant Ironmonger Jockey Journalist Judge Knaves Lad Laundryman Lawyer Locksmith Lord Lummox Majordomo Marine Mason Merchant Mighty Minister Moneylender MPs Oafish Page Painter Pastry Cook/Chef Peasants Peddler Peer Performer Physician Piccolo player Pilate Pious Pirate Plumber Poet Police Polite Politician Porter Prelate BIOGRAPHY OF A SONG, FROM PAGE 23 tled, but immediately takes the final line from the previous page and runs with it in two, then three, columns: Priest Quack Rabbi Rabble Rector Riff Raff Royal marine Royalty Sailor Schoolmaster Scribe Scrivener Sexton Shepherd Sheriff Shoeblack Shoemaker Shyster Singer Smith Solicitor Squire Stableboy Stoker Student Sweep Tailor Taxidermist Teacher Teller Thief Tinker Truant Turf-accountant Tutor Underlings Undertaker Unemployed Urchin Valet Vendor Verger Vicar Violinist Waiter Weaver Wicked Wop Wrestler Young How about the [Have you tried some] priest Have you tried the priest Try a little [slice] priest Try a bit of priest I can guarantee I can guarantee It’s a C of E at least Though it’s C of E It’s C of E At the very least That it’s rather nice At least He continues in this fashion for several more lines. (I must confess that my anglophile wife had to explain that C of E means Church of England; I suspect it’s due to fears of parochial audience members — like myself — that the phrase was abandoned.) In the left margin, Sondheim lists more than three dozen additional professions and types to consider. This page also continues to follow-up with the sweep from the previous page. Sondheim isn’t sure how the phrase should begin, so he leaves a long space with a single word at the end: “ sweep/If you want it [you’re feeling] cheap/And you like it dark.” (The opening is solved on the next page where he comes up with three alternatives, including “Special on the sweep.”) The page ends with an eight-line segment that has a frustrating combination of nifty images but skewed logic: If you like it lean, How about a Dean? Never can be carved Haven’t you got painter Or something that’s starved? Though it makes a wonderful fillet The minute you kill it, It’s spoiled But it has the right rhythm and feel, and it seems like a structural model for much that will follow. From here on out, most sketch pages focus on developing and refining specific sections of the song. In some cases, two or three pages may be devoted to working out a single quatrain or section. Among the more fascinating aspects of the lyric sketches are the ideas that were pursued over several pages before being abandoned, the large variants of subtleties in language that were considered for individual phrases, and the way the various parts were assembled into the whole. Throughout the sketches, frequently lining the margins, are lists of dozens of professions and “types” of people that Sondheim considered for inclusion in the song. By my count, there are 158! [Editor’s Note: The full list is provided on p. 24.] Most never make it as far as a lyric line, but two that did were joined in this evocative couplet: “Everybody shaves except/Rabbis and riffraff.” There are several ideas that Sondheim obviously thinks have potential since he returns to them again and again. These include pairings of grave with gravy, and lawyers with torts. Versions of the line, “Or there’s priest, which is second to nun” appear on more than one occasion. Several times throughout the sketches he returns to the “pious pie” idea; among the better attempts is: “I’m sure it’s me bias/But no pie’s more pious/Than priest.” The majority of the sketches that relate to the poet focus on the cliché of “starving,” so that when Sweeney requests one, Mrs. Lovett can counter that they’re so thin and sickly, she doesn’t serve them. Among the adjectives Sondheim considered to describe the poet are: leaner, weedy, skinny, scrawny, wizened, peaky, bony and underfed. The ultimate wording of the poet line grows out of sketches on another page that first posit two other versions using entirely different “ingredients” — “No, you see the trouble with curate is/Can you be sure it’s” or “No, you see the trouble with prelate is/How can you tell it’s …” (The lines are left unfinished.) Then, “See when it’s scrawny as poet/You sometimes don’t [don’t always] know it’s/Deceased.” In its final version, Sondheim sets up the joke by first having Sweeney comment about the priest, “Awful lot of fat,” so when he requests poet, it’s based on his assumption that it would be a leaner alternative. (When George Hearn performed the line “or something like that,” he gestured with his hands to indicate someone narrow or skinny.) It’s been my experience that audiences tend not to get the subtleties of this sequence; for them the humor derives entirely from the “poet … know it” rhyme, and the unexpected capper, “Stick to priest.” Similarly, one difficulty (not flaw): Those who only hear the song don’t always understand the geography, whereby “those above” are Sweeney’s customers/victims in his second floor tonsorial parlor, while “those below” are Mrs. Lovett’s customers. As the lyric sketches evolve, lines and sections are polished; however, Sondheim gradually works out how the sections will be put together and in what order. For instance, before settling on the politician being “so oily,” he also considers the fop or the actor. And even when he gets the exquisite couplet “Or we have some shepherd’s pie peppered/With actual shepherd,” the section goes through several variations before he figures out that by preceding it with the “… Fop/Finest in the shop,” he can neatly end the phrase with “On top.” (Based on one sketch, it might have been Wop that was “finest in the shop.”) At this point, more pages are given headings — Mrs. L Verse, Todd’s Verse, Refrain, IA, IB, IIB, Ad Libs and Interludes. What Sondheim refers to as the “Refrain” are the sections that refer to the world (as in “the sound of,” “the history of” and “have charity toward”). The IA and IIB, etc., are sections that focus on the various professions — priest, lawyer, clerk, fop (in discussing the music, I’ll refer to these sections as the “chorus”). The music which accompanies the two types of sections strikes me as being of equal importance and prominence; I’d be hard pressed to call one the main tune over the other. After the two verses, the structure of the song is ABBABABA. Between these verses are xxxxxx CONTINUES ON PAGE 26 The Sondheim Review 25 BIOGRAPHY OF A SONG, FROM PAGE 25 seven musical interludes — vamps — in six instances, with dialogue spoken on top and, in one instance, they merely “roar with laughter.” Before thoroughly examining the song, had someone asked, I would have guessed that these sections of dialogue occurred once or twice. I was shocked at its frequency. Sondheim has said that he likes the combination of the spoken and the sung and, indeed, it does add to the variety of colors and textures in this long number. These spoken breaks are also very much in the vaudeville and British music hall traditions that inform the number’s style. In one typescript of the song “(DIALOGUE)” is typed eight different places in the lyric; Sondheim has penciled a number next to each of them. There are subsequent typed pages (one marked “per Hugh Wheeler” and dated “10/19/78,” and another “November 1st,” which also includes annotations in both Sondheim’s and Wheeler’s hands) with notes and ideas about how to fill in the patter. Several suggestions are groan-inducing: “Fried bride”; “That one’s rather yellow. Chinese fellow.” Wheeler appears to forget that it’s only men who would be getting haircuts and shaves, when he suggests “how about a nice piece of niece?” and “What’s that in your tummy? Mummy.” There are several suggested puns, such as: “Coiner — with mint?” “Watchmaker with thyme?” (Sondheim adds in the margin “artist — palatable?”) The big surprise is that Sondheim and Wheeler were contemplating ending the song with patter. This eighth slot is marked “FINAL DIALOGUE leading to helpless laughter.” A few drafts conclude with this version: “Speaking of stuffed, our special today is taxidermist …” Thankfully, this approach was rejected. Another series of annotations leads to far more successful developments — the use of, for lack of better terminology, reactionary comments. Sondheim obviously wants the song to have a back-and-forth, conversational quality, including spoken repartee, sung dialogue and some unison sections, but also places where one character responds, or comments, in counterpoint. This occurs even amongst the earliest sketches, such as this one for Todd: “Yes, Mrs. Lovett, yes ML, yes ML, yes.” But even after the song approaches its final form, in typescript, Sondheim pencils in several additional sections for Mrs. Lovett (to join the one instance already there — “What, Mister Todd,/What, Mister Todd,/What is that sound?” and “Yes, Mr. Todd,/Yes, Mr. Todd,/Yes, all around”): “Oh, Mr. Todd,/Ooh, Mr. Todd, what Does it tell? … And, Mr. Todd,/Too, Mr. Todd./Who gets to sell” and “Yes, Yes, I know, my love … High-born and low, my love.” There’s no sketch, note or outline that indicates Sondheim’s plan for the larger structure of the song, or how various sections will be ordered and put together. It appears that after most of the various sections have been completed, they are assembled so as to achieve maximum impact. The first half of the song is the basic seduction — Mrs. Lovett suggesting the idea to Sweeney and the audience — and the initial playful enthusiasm where they take the idea and run with it. In the second half (after the rhyming contest), three aspects begin to change. First, Sondheim saves his cleverest moments for this section, so the thrill to the audience is a constant build — the “sweep,” “everybody goes down well with beer” and the “shepherd’s pie.” Second, Todd and Mrs. Lovett’s relationship is changed and cemented here. Finally, he appreciates her, and their banter becomes increasingly sexual — “Then blow on it first”, “With or without his privates.” Third, Todd’s passion for revenge returns, first with “Have you any beadle” and then, at the most focused moment in the song, “I’ll come again when you/Have Judge on the menu.” However, I believe the most brilliant and dramatically important aspect of the song is the opening verse. At the time of its New York premiere, the Sweeney Todd legend was unknown to most Americans, and the sheer bloodiness of the show had the potential to shock and dismay audiences unused to such gruesome fare in their Broadway musicals. The turn from revenge to cannibalism is an even more outré concept for audiences (forgive me) to swallow. The song starts with the “light bulb-going-on” chime as Mrs. Lovett begins to get the idea, but it’s not articulated. While the accompaniment begins an odd, chromatic, unresolving descent, Mrs. Lovett’s hints become increasingly obvious, as Sweeney, seemingly either impossibly thick or merely distracted, remains stubbornly unaware. The song goes on for 25 measures before his Aha! moment. By that time, the audience has long ago figured it out and is on the verge of screaming it out to him. As a result, before the song proper even starts, they (the audience) are guilty and complicit — and delighted to be so. They can’t express shock or mock horror; they become willing accomplices before Sweeney does. It’s a masterful manipulation. Although technically not part of the lyrics proper, Sondheim’s manuscripts are full of stage directions, most of which do not make it into the final text, but nevertheless are artfully rendered: “Mistaking his blankness for resistance”; “drawn in”; “snorts with glee”; “feels it.” And finally, a fuller example in context: “Butler. (Looks) Something — (long pause, looking + thinking hard, then triumphantly) Subtler” MUSIC: Virtually all of Sondheim’s scores inhabit musical universes that are unique, but Sweeney Todd is probably the richest — full of dense harmonies, surprising chromaticisms and frequently changing meters. There is a specific chord that is wed through the score (a minor chord with a major 7th, usually in an inversion so that the 7th is in the bass), as is a theme based on the Dies Irae section of the Catholic mass for the dead (the “Day of Wrath” so appropriate for Sweeney). Inspired by the film composer, Bernard Herrmann, the score is full of nervous rumbles, shrieks, skitterings and tolling bells. There is even a musical clue to one character’s secret identity. In fact, all of the major characters have one or more musical themes associated with them. This technique of leitmotif is associated with opera and is probably one of the reasons why there has been much discussion and argument about whether Sweeney Todd is an opera. It certainly comes closer than any other work to fulfilling the promise of Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess as an ambitious, engrossing, tuneful, mostly through-sung, dramatic musical work. For “A Little Priest” there are nine pages of musical sketches, followed by a 25-page fair copy of the completed song and seven pages of inserts. The front page of sketches has no title but refers to the number as “End Act I (Todd, Lovett).” Initial ideas are numerous and varied. The first page alone has sections in five different keys and various meters, mostly focusing on vamps and accompaniments, although a couple of melodic phrases are indicated. What leaps out are the variations Sondheim considers for the oft-repeated five-note phrase that is the setting for “Have a little priest.” It’s clear that he believes whatever motive he selects will be key to the song, but there are many possibilities to consider. The rhythm is usually the same — four eighth notes followed by a quarter note — but the melodies include subtle, and some not so subtle, variations. Most have the same noodling shape and appoggiatura-like chromaticisms, but the actual intervals differ, and initially most jump up a final interval CONTINUES ON PAGE 28 1/2 page ad Hate those pesky renewal notices? Join TSR’s automatic renewal program. When you have only one issue to go, TSR will automatically add one more year to your subscription and charge your credit card for one more year. You can withdraw at any time and receive a refund for the unused portion of your subscription. Just send us your credit card number with an expiration date more than one year into the future, and say, “Automatic renewal, please!” Never miss an issue. 26 The Sondheim Review The Sondheim Review 27 BIOGRAPHY OF A SONG, FROM PAGE 27 of a sixth — as opposed to the fifth of the final version. On a couple of pages he even contemplates versions in which the first four notes are repeated. Finally, the phrase we know is found. As I examined the finished song, I realized that Mrs. Lovett’s verse is built from the very same phrase, and includes some of the variations I xxxxxx thought had been abandoned in the sketches. The intervals that underlie the song’s very first line, “Seems a downright shame” are identical to “Have a little priest,” although the rhythm is slightly different. As the verse continues, the phrases “Nor it can’t be traced,” and “Bus’ness needs a lift” each use subtly different intervals — motives that had been considered and rejected for the chorus. Later, during Sweeney’s verse, Mrs. Lovett’s counterpoint line, “Also undetectable,” offers yet another version. While most of the musical material for “A Little Priest” is unique to that song, at least a 28 The Sondheim Review few aspects resonate with other sections of the score. The second half of Mrs. Lovett’s verse recalls her opening number, “The Worst Pies in London.” Her later interjections, “Yes, Mister Todd, Yes, Mister Todd …,” are similar to her interjections during “My Friends”—“If you only knew, Mister Todd. Ooh, Mister Todd …” If nothing else, the rhythmic setting of “Mister Todd” is identical. The musical interludes include those stinging major 7ths we associate with Sweeney. And the “Final Scene” ends with a reprise of Sweeney’s verse and the refrain as he deceptively waltzes Mrs. Lovett into the oven. Interspersed among the lyric sketches are various notes that reflect on the music. Some of these are rhythmic notations above lyrics and, in one instance, a melodic idea. But most are suggestions to consider various styles of music: clog, waltz (hesitation?), 3/4 rhythms, 4/4 soft shoe, tango or stroll. Sondheim obviously wanted an identifiable musical style that would ingratiate an audience. He chose a waltz. With A Little Night Music, he certainly proved his facility with triple meters, but not many of his songs, even those in 3/4, are immediately recognizable as true waltzes — “A Little Priest” is. This kind of waltz, which can be conducted in one — a single sweeping downbeat per measure — has a lift and vitality that serves the song well on several levels. For a long number, it provides a motor and energy; the waltz is musically seductive — once begun, it must be succumbed to. As noted in the section on lyrics, there are actually two main sections to the song proper, the “refrain” and the “chorus.” As a composer, Sondheim’s strong suit is not always his melodies; often they are either conversational in nature or are architecturally structured using motivic material as building blocks. Particularly in his earlier work, even his most beautiful melodies were often prevented from truly soaring by accompaniments and counterpoint that, while providing richness and emotional depth, seemed to keep the tunes grounded — for example, “I Remember,” “Being Alive” and “Too Many Mornings.” Something about Sweeney Todd seems to have freed him. In Meryle Secrest’s biography, she writes: “Sondheim said that as a piece of music, Sweeney Todd leapt into his mind almost fully formed. ‘All I wanted to do was sing it.’” Perhaps that’s the reason, but whatever the cause, almost all of the numbers have the best kind of melodies — ones that seem inevitable — found, not created. “A Little Priest” has two of them. What seems to tie the tunes together is the steady bass accompaniment that mostly alternates measure to measure between the tonic and the dominant. In the case of the refrain, the rest of the accompaniment is characterized by chord clusters that are mostly periodicized every two beats. These chords change subtly, often include little dissonances and sometimes thicken and/or shift into different ranges. They’re a large part of what provides the chug for the song’s motor. The accompaniment for the chorus is characterized by an “oompahpah.” These tend to alternate between straight, on-the-beat versions and ones that start, almost like a grace note on the “and of one.” What characterizes these accompaniments are (in the key of B major — five sharps) the G-naturals that resolve up to a G-sharp in alternating sets of “pahs.” I’m not positive, but based on a note Sondheim made among his sketches, I think he intended these to confuse the harmony slightly, so that they might register to the listener as Eflat chords in second inversion, superimposed on the F-sharp in the bass. However it functions, the music, despite a lot of melodic repetition, succeeds in sustaining interest and energy over several minutes. RECORDINGS: There are seven commercial recordings of “A Little Priest,” one oddity worthy of note and two video recordings of live performances. The original cast recording (1979) with Angela Lansbury and Len Cariou is (to adapt Cole Porter) delightful, delicious and definitive. A video recording was made for television in 1982 in Los Angeles, during the show’s national tour. Lansbury was still in the show, but Cariou had been replaced by George Hearn. There is a disjointed quality to the whole, probably because some portions were filmed before an audience and some were not, but it is still a magnificent document of the production and performances. The Sondheim (Book-of-the-Month Club) box set (1985) captures Joyce Castle and Timothy Nolen, who performed the show at New York City Opera. Nolen is an excellent singer, but on the recording, he doesn’t always maintain character (whereas in my memory he was exceptional in performance). Castle’s voice suffers from several dropouts. On the CD of orchestral arrangements, Symphonic Sondheim (1990), “A Little Priest” is part of a large Sweeney Todd medley that features several songs from the score. The “Little Priest” segment is lighter and more playful than one might expect and reminds me of the Prokofiev of Peter and the Wolf. The aforementioned oddity is from the cast album of Putting It Together (1993), in which the music becomes the basis for the brief “Game Sequence #2” featuring Christopher Durang. Arguably, the highlight of this section (with new lyrics by Sondheim) is the perverse pleasure of hearing Julie Andrews sing “Oh, fuck it, let’s do it” (to the tune of “Have Judge on the menu”). Two unusual recordings were made in 1995: Sweeney Todd … in Jazz by the Trotter Trio, and the Catalonian-language recording of Sweeney Todd featuring Vicky Peña and Constantino Romero. The jazz recording is fast, upbeat and mostly unrecognizable. The Catalonian version (though probably difficult to track down) is terrific. The performances are joyous and raucous; it’s fascinating to hear the well-known song in another (colorful) language, and the music has a real drive and vitality. Sweeney Todd Live in Concert, with the New York Philharmonic (2000), gives us Patti LuPone and George Hearn. Hearn is even better here than he was replacing Cariou in the original production. His voice is as powerful as ever, but there seems to be greater depth and subtlety in his acting. LuPone has a mannered quality — odd moments of timing, pronunciation and slurring — but her conviction and talent are so strong that she usually ends up making them work. Hearing the audience is frequently a distraction throughout this recording, but they receive this song so rapturously, that it adds to the excitement and pleasure. A year later, accompanied by the San Francisco Symphony, a reprise of this concert was filmed for television and DVD release. The most recent recording is from the current Broadway revival directed by John Doyle, starring Michael Cerveris and Patti LuPone, and seemingly inspired by Marat/Sade. The small cast, doubling as musicians, perform the show as though it were being put on by inmates at an asylum. This recording is actually similar in tone and style to the Catalonian one, particularly in the earthiness of the arrangements. LuPone seems to benefit from the hand of a strong director who moderates and centers her performance. FINALE: “A Little Priest” follows immediately on the heels of the number in Sweeney Todd that Sondheim says was the most difficult to write, “Epiphany” — or, as it’s referred to in the draft script, “Todd’s Aria.” “Epiphany” is a gutwrenching rant in which Sweeney turns from seeking revenge on the judge who destroyed him and his family to a man bent on revenge on mankind in general. Still, “A Little Priest” is the more important number in the show. It accomplishes many things. It diffuses the horror of the “Epiphany.” It makes clear and palatable to the audience that it’s not much of a stretch from murder to cannibalism. It cements the relationship between Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett — both professionally and sexually. And, as the Act I finale, it provides much-needed comic relief. At the same time it brilliantly engages the audience so that they are fully vested and identifies with Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett and their scheme. Of course, what most people remember is the wicked wit and joyous wordplay, which are unsurpassed. |TSR| MARK EDEN HOROWITZ is a senior music specialist at the Library of Congress. This column reflects his personal, not professional, observations. Horowitz is the author of Sondheim on Music and has taught courses at Georgetown University about the history of musical theatre and specifically about Sondheim. “Biography of a Song” is a regular feature of TSR. The Sondheim Review 29