From Carousel at Regent’s Park to the rest of The Great White Way
What IS worth the use of wond’rin’ about as theatre returns in 2021 and beyond?
Seeing the new production of Carousel at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in London this summer has prompted me to ask some challenging questions, both of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s much beloved Golden Age classic itself, and also more widely as to the surrounding theatrical climate as theatre returns in 2021 after this protracted period of absence.
What shows are we staging, and why? How do we go about staging these shows or revivals? And who is responsible for staging them? – to list a few.
Some theatregoers are praising the joyous return to the escapism of classic musicals after such a long period of hardship. And some are banging on doors demanding change and betterment. Considering this production of Carousel and how much alteration has been done to a classic musical in this modern age speaks more broadly to the degree of revision accepted as being required as productions begin to return. Closer and more detailed examination of this new production might well raise more questions than there are answers for. But they are questions and aspects that are potentially worthy, or necessary, of examining nonetheless.
Ultimately, the inescapable verdict with this starting example is that a Golden Age musical centring on domestic abuse is unavoidably on very precarious ground in this modern climate, 75 years after it was written. And that’s even before you consider trying to stage it as one of the first shows emerging from a pandemic that has foregrounded a rise in domestic abuse and violence against women during its last two years.
Clearly it would be foolish to expect current audiences to tolerate being made to unironically swallow infamous lines, like “He hit me, mother, he hit me hard, but it didn't hurt – it felt like a kiss”. Not least while they’re all sat with programmes on their laps that brazenly open with a two-page spread addressing the “epidemic within the pandemic” on domestic violence abuse crimes.
So, much retooling has been done to the exposed story of a problematic and abusive relationship in attempts at countering some of these issues – as one of the many revisions that has occurred in trying to ‘update’ this production for more modern audiences.
The show’s handling of Billy Bigelow’s character as it’s abusive male protagonist renders him no longer completely repulsive for his actions or attitudes. He is denied upwards ascendency to some heavenly realm at the beginning or the chance to return and perpetuate the same violence with his daughter and the end. Moreover, it is female not male voices that now reckon with his judgement in purgatory, and the infamous and problematic lines regarding Julie and Louise’s exchange on domestic violence are quietly eliminated. As such, Billy is not allowed redemption in spite of his sins, and the women glean a more fortified and less meek presence.
But the show potentially takes out more than it adds in these changes, and loses some dimension. It seems it is aware of itself as being a show about domestic abuse, but it doesn’t really seem to have anything other to say about it than: “it exists”. Billy is also denied any chance of reflection to either open or close the show, which means he doesn’t get the chance to exhibit any trace of genuine familial care and concern for the fate of his wife and child. This is a change that noticeably causes the show to lose some of its impact, as he thus appears entirely unlikeable and there’s no longer any reason to care for him in the first place.
The new alterations are wise. But they're not faultless.
Other changes have been made to ‘modernise’ the show and make it feel at home in the 21st century – especially to the sound, orchestrations and appearance of the production – which also foregrounds the notion of examining how one constructs a revival.
Tom Deering as the show’s orchestrator illustrated in a podcast some of the primary rationality and justifications for these logistical alterations, like that they “were being driven by dramatic choices and the philosophical change in location and time”.
This referred-to “change” concerns the setting of the production being moved from 1873–1888 in sunny and American New-England, to approximately the 1960s or 70s in a “coastal town in the north of England”. This lends the intention of a more gritty, industrial, and “post-war communal feel” to the show and has a substantial impact.
For one, the piece has been fairly radically reorchestrated. Gone are familiar elements like lush string sections, as an example. In their place attempting to provide corresponding tones are foreign and strange instruments like glass harmonicas and electric guitars. Changes like these are novel and commendable for not simply resorting to synthetic sampling, and credibly reasoned in relation to Deering’s motivations for wanting to “try to imagine a musical palette that felt suitable for this radically reimagined production”. Even so. That doesn’t stop them from feeling audibly jarring at times, at least at a first listen. Unless one is already familiar with matters like versions of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ with opening strains played on electric guitar, that is.
The justification of the altered setting also drives the change in vocal sound and style. Primarily, many of the keys have been dropped. It is possible to understand the reasoning that soaring, pristine, received-pronunciation vibrato does not apt characterisation for a lower working-class Northerner make. This along with rationality from Deering that the piece was written 75 years ago, indicating that the “relationship between singing voice and speaking voice has changed during that time – as have ladies’ voices dropped significantly”, explains the motivation for lowering female vocal keys. Deering also states the point that large contrasts between spoken dialect and sung portions are less accessible to audience members; and as such, reducing the difference in these transitions reduces the “distance between the audience, particularly a younger audience, and the story itself” in order make transitions “easier” and more “accessible”.
This speaks more broadly to the current trends in modern musical theatre writing, concerning the disappearance of the pure soprano sound, vocal homogenisation, and a reliance on straight tones and belting. Some may wish this wasn’t the case, and counter that line of reasoning in thinking that in fact an audience is still capable of appreciating that a piece can be accepted and can carry authentic emotional sentiment even if it appears a notable contrast in register from spoken sections. The manners of these changes in such a revival as this may engender an unfortunate sense of disappointment, at it is predominantly in these classic Golden Age scores that the dwindling upper octaves of an authentic soprano sound still get the rare chance to be heard nowadays.
In a similar vein as above, arguably if perfect polished RP creates a level of unreal artifice, so too do manicured, uniform accents apparently. There is no enforced conformation to a standardised regional dialect here. Instead, the production has cast members all keep their own varied, regional British accents. So while the show is meant to be set somewhere in the north of England (and there are northerners), there are also Welsh or Cockney or London-ish or more central tones in there too.
The desire for this was to scrape “away another layer of artifice, lending an authentic weight”.
This change does have some benefits or justifications of enabling the maintenance of the heterogeneity and diversity within the cast members as seen with respect to the actors here themselves. But it also somewhat causes a lack in central coherence and lessens the impact of the piece. Here, de-homogenisation for inclusivity’s sake appears to counter the actual intention or point of the show in the first place, in interfering with one of its central themes of community. The actors appear less as united characters, and more as, well, actors. Or themselves. As a collective group, the sound no longer reflects what the dialects of a community of working-class people all in a similar geographical area would sound like. Instead, it feels physically non-specific and ungrounded, as if an assortment of people from all over the UK have been banded together for some indiscriminate reason. Crucially, the people on stage are no longer a unified, tight-knit community, in a tangible location, of similar socio-economic statuses, common histories, and shared professions in the same place by necessity not choice – as is integral to the show’s basis.
This notion of modern changes to a show conflicting with the show itself is not a new notion, and it does demand confrontation and raise queries of the impacts to the technical alterations in ‘updating’ beloved or fondly nostalgic musicals.
In a point that feels somewhat subversive to mention, qualms were raised in earlier notable revivals of Carousel decades ago – with the specifics of methods to do with enacting modernisation via the hitherto novel “use of multiracial casting”. Having black actors like Clive Rowe play Enoch Snow in the original 1992 London revival, or Audra McDonald as Carrie and Shirley Verrett as Nettie in the subsequent 1994 Broadway transfer, for example, forces reckoning of whether colour is intended to be ‘seen’, or just blindly overlooked. Simply casting the most talented actors fits with the latter, and should not be dismissed as valid casting practice – lest there be no evolution ever of diversity in historically write-centric shows. But the former, if the differences of race are to be actually acknowledged, necessitates comprehension of a 19th century New England town that can supposedly tolerate at least some degree of being “liberal and liberating”. According to John Simon of New York Magazine in 1994, this arguably “militates against the meaning of the work”, in reference to the story’s dependence on insular, old-fashioned, and intolerant attitudes. Simon said, “There was certainly a case to be made that if the townsfolk were so otherwise enlightened, then why did they ostracize innocent Louise, who wasn’t even born when Billy attempted his botched robbery?”.
It’s a complex issue. And modernisation or increased diversity itself is not the problem – seldom is it not desired or necessary. But it’s a matter hard to reconcile if it impairs any of the show’s core elements or its logic.
As a corollary, one could cite Marianne Elliott’s new and muchly hyped production of Company for evidence of newly updated staging features in further conflicts against impacts of original source material. There’s much to be gained in this new production – like elevated queerness or the apparent increased pertinence of discussion of society’s perspectives on a female, instead of male, bachelor ageing with her ticking biological clock. But there’s a lot lost too.
An important example concerns the switch made to change Amy to Jamie. ‘Getting Married Today’ turns now into a hypochondriacally pattered aria by a stereotypically dramatic gay male in little more than a fleeting, anguished cold-feet spiral. It is no longer also a woman questioning the bedrock of the institution of antiquated heterosexual marriage, built upon centuries of historic female subservience, oppression, violence and even murder at the hands of their domineering male counterparts.
Amy’s original exclamations as to how Paul will “want to kill me, which he should,” or her “floating in the Hudson”, or dying “like Eliza on the ice” (in allusion to Uncle Tom’s Cabin with the young girl fleeting from her male captor), may appear flippant and humorous in the song. And sung by a male – that is when they’re not removed – they primarily appear as simple hyperbole. But as long as America remains a place whereby “four women are murdered every day in this country by a male partner” (as Heidi Schreck cites in her play, What the Constitution Means to Me), the original implications remain unignorably alarming.
The song thus carries intrinsic weight when sung by a woman that it cannot gain back in this new context – subsequently diluting an element of the musical’s original impact.
None of this is to say all methods of introducing change revivals and attempting to “re-invent” are bad, however. For instance, Bill Rauch’s recent revival of Oklahoma! (as another Rodgers and Hammerstein ‘classic’) performed in Oregon in 2018, also featured gender flipped characters, an abundances of queerness, as well as considerable racial diversity. And it was heralded as both logical and a triumph, or “natural and organic” and “beautiful and poignant”. Such positive sentiments were seen too for the “revolutionary” 2019 Broadway revival.
Even closer to home, people had been clamouring for change and revisional updates to Carousel itself as early as the very year it was created in 1945. The piece exhibits non-trivial similarities to the creative duo’s previous work with Oklahoma!, and it was reasoned this “formula was becoming a bit monotonous” – as too “were [Agnes] De Mille’s ballets” , which were appreciably abundant on Broadway in the ‘40s and ‘50s. By the time the memorable London transfer arrived in New York in 1994, it was decried it was “nice to finally see a Carousel free of Agnes de Mille’s overly familiar choreography”. The novel changes here to Louise’s ballet in this new Regent’s Park revival through Drew McOnie’s choreography were seen as a success and favourably received, in making the production “come alive”. At this point in the second act for the dance sequence, towering poles appear on stage to emulate prison bars, the pace of the stage revolve increases, and a vividly sinister male influence becomes evident through their presence and visceral movements. These elements serve to compound a sense of frenzied, building anxiety and cyclical inevitability of a woman once again being trapped in a repeating pattern of being mistreated by men. Consequently here, the show’s primary themes are sustained, if not even further enhanced.
Change is necessary in theatre in order to prevent the stagnation, irrelevance, or outdatedness of staging shows from decades or even centuries ago. It has to be questioned how new revivals can be staged today before creating them, otherwise the risk is high of them becoming incompatible with modern audiences against their precursors as written in entirely different cultural and historic environments.
Some of the specific technicalities of attempted methods of modernisation will be perceived to work. Some will not. In all likelihood, you might not know which is which until they are attempted.
Because of this, it seems important to indicate that change and alteration with the aim of innovation should not be discouraged for creatives within theatrical realms, just on the basis that not everything tried comes off as ‘successful’.
As to this new production of Carousel, one review as written in the i Newspaper by Sam Marlowe puts it just about as well as I can think to put it to conclude consideration of it: “This is an admirably gutsy approach to a deeply flawed classic”.
Many of the modifications in this “tough radical reinterpretation”, as put together by an assiduous creative team, have been made with good intentions, after being substantially thought-through, and executed within the possible logistical parameters afforded.
It’s far from perfect, but appreciably it still deserves credit for trying. And indeed, this classic is deeply flawed.
Suggesting we ‘cancel’ Rodgers and Hammerstein is far from the aim. But it is important to recognise the show itself does have some inherent flaws, and to accept that there might be a limit to how much it can be expected to achieve via alterations to stagings while modernising a show – without completely rewriting the original.
A recently published article published in The Telegraph, entitled “Can the cancel mob please leave our classic musicals alone?”, reasons against this line of thinking. The point of quoting South Pacific and ‘You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught’ as evidence that Rodgers and Hammerstein were “not reactionary dinosaurs whose work should be immediately cancelled” does work on some grounds. It proves an understanding of racial prejudice, yes. But it does not absolve them of all sins forever, particularly female-related ones.
Potentially, irrespective of how you orchestrate it, ‘What’s the Use of Wond’rin’’, for example, is still via its lyrics at its core a deeply antiquated and misogynistic song that displays a complete disregard for women and a lack of understanding of writing for their sex, given the presentation as making it permissible to accept and be content with such violent and abusive male treatment.
Being based on the dark and heavy 1909 play Liliom by Ferenc Molnar, the subject matter of Carousel to begin with is not light, joyful fare. Nor that obviously ripe for musicalisation. It’s interesting to note that rather than Rodgers and Hammerstein, Kurt Weill was among those initially considered to compose the musical adaptation, before being rejected by Molnar. Known far more strongly for dark, brooding, biting works, the German-born composer would certainly have provided an interesting and likely very different version of ‘Carousel’ – in contrast to the duo remembered well for their oft sentimentally soaring ballads. That being said, we can’t in fact reauthor original works.
We can’t alter the original creative teams for shows written in different centuries. But we can, however, certainly question the identities, motivations and behaviours of those involved with staging and creating shows today.
On one hand, there is demonstrably still popular demand amongst mainstream audiences for simple escapism and even ‘classic’ old musicals – the London revival of Cole Porter’s 1934 production of Anything Goes grossed over £1 million in its first week alone, even despite old videos depicting racial insensitivity from its leading lady surfacing in the weeks closely pre-dating its opening night.
But on the other hand, there are other voices also out there ill-content to simply sit back and watch as further injustices unfold. There are voices demanding theatre-based justice. Demanding more progressive and diverse shows, creative teams and casts. More inclusivity and safety for employees. More accountability to be faced for those with power who get control over decisions being made, especially when that power is being abused. And more attention being raised on matters of previous indiscretions and malpractices in the hopes of preventing their recurrence in the future.
The public statements made by Karen Olivo (i.e. “Building a better industry is more important than putting money in my pockets.”), as well as multiple conversations being had around the controversial Broadway production of Jagged Little Pill over workplace diversity and safety, are matters that could be singled out as leading, current examples addressing the inequities or lack of safety in the theatre industry, and vocally raising support or action for “bringing Broadway back better”.
Furthermore, there is justified call for the takedown or removal especially of corrupt or abusive white men in leadership positions who have conventionally yielded power in destructive ways.
February saw the resignation of Ethan McSweeny from the American Shakespeare Company, where he had presided as artistic director since 2018. This came following the review of a 15-page report submitted to the theatre’s board as put together by 52 members of the company that delivered documentation of “a pattern of abusive, manipulative, and dangerous behavior, actions, and speech on McSweeny’s part”.
And more recently, reports of mega-mogul producer Scott Rudin’s own abuse, violence and bullying started coming to light from this April in The Hollywood Reporter. These revelations were subsequently met with galvanising public outcry far across the theatre realm, and Rudin was perceptibly dethroned from his positions of power and the shows he was set to be producing.
These examples appear to display constituents of success and progress for the theatre community. But they are not exhaustive or complete.
There’s another name to reckon with who still threatens the safety of employees in the theatre in light of upcoming projects: Garth Drabinsky.
Some context on this Canadian producer who has flown relatively under the radar of late. Drabinsky rose to fame and prominence in the ‘90s, with hits like the landmark Toronto production of The Phantom of the Opera, before dominating Broadway with a run of successes like Kiss of the Spiderwoman, Parade, Ragtime, and Fosse. His reign was finite, however, and his fall from grace inevitable when he was later sent to prison for fraud and forgery.
At the beginning of summer when researching for another project, I coincidentally stumbled upon some of the details to do Drabinsky’s sordid past. I was shocked. Good riddance, I thought.
One can only imagine then how much more shocked I was in the very same night to read an announcement heralding for Drabinsky’s upcoming comeback. This man is being given free reign to helm and produce what is being publicised as the first new musical to reopen Broadway in 2022 – Paradise Square. This should not happen.
In addition to considerable criminal conduct, this man (like Scott Rudin) has been demonstrated to create hostile working environments that endanger people in his orbit.
“Scott Rudin but maple syrup flavoured,” opera and musical theatre performer Rebecca Caine would quip.
And Rebecca Caine would know.
Prompted by the threat of this upcoming ‘comeback’, Rebecca has been sharing documented evidence over the summer from the harrowing events she experienced as Christine for multiple years in Drabinsky’s Canadian production of The Phantom of the Opera.
During her time as the show’s principal female lead between 1989-1992, Rebecca faced the mercy of prolonged, excessive, “brutish conduct” and violence on stage from her male co-star. She did not receive compassion or support in response to these events as she tried to speak out about them. Instead, she was dismissed by Drabinsky and his production team, threatened with intimidation tactics, victim blamed, mocked or ultimately fired and denied payment of her salary. Drabinsky’s own actions created a callous disregard for her safety which subsequently led to acute and permanently damaging physical injury, as well as prolonged mental trauma.
In addition to these historical details of his negligent and abuse-enabling practices, Drabinsky now out of prison and as recently as the last few years has demonstrated a lack of remorse, continued disreputable accounting practices, and a maintenance of his same volatile temper as previously.
Yet for all of this, he is seemingly being given carte blanche to return. He is set to open his new musical in Chicago from November, or on Broadway next February with so far barely as much public resistance as a slightly raised eyebrow. Even reputable and influential publications like The New York Times have yet to cover matters in full enough historied detail other than to speculate whether this “comeback bid by a scandal-scarred producer” will be successful or not.
This man’s crimes are more serious than the capacity to produce a bad show. He’s more dangerous than that. Watch this space for a full presentation of all of Drabinsky’s legal and moral crimes throughout the last three decades that I have been putting together and hope to be able to put up soon as to illustrate why this man should not be any more considered a viable producer. Simply put for now, Garth Drabinsky should not be at the top of the tree to pick from in selecting new producers to award the privilege and responsibility of staging the first new shows as we emerge from this period of dormancy and ostensible reflection.
Carousel was probably not the best choice for a production to have been staged at this point in time. Even if all involved did try very hard to make it. That decision cannot be reversed, but we can turn the focus of the questions it raised to broader angles and future pieces of theatre.
Like has been mentioned, we can't rewrite the past. We can however try to make better decisions for the future while we still have the capacity to exert an influence in shaping it.
Before new works are put up going forward, we both can and should ask, “is this thing the best piece, made in the best technically relevant style, with the best people behind it, to be staging right now?”
It is these kinds of questions that we must continually remind ourselves to ask as theatre continues to return, if we are to stand any chance of returning with a theatrical environment that is not just enjoyable for audiences, but enjoyable, safe and equitable for all.
Garth Drabinsky is probably the most infamous name on Broadway right now thanks to Paradise Square. Whilst all the Broadway drama seems focused on Funny Girl, this is where it should be - drama of the highest order. It's difficult to judge the quality of Paradise Square as a show as there has been no cast recording, but it's a shame for them that the show has been eclipsed by scandal, particularly for a piece of new writing. There's a clip above of some fabulous choreography well worth watching - don't let the story to follow put you off the show!
Admittedly, the show has closed - it closed very dramatically in July 2022, with only a few days notice. Subsequently, a lot of the creatives filed a lawsuit against producer Garth Drabinsky, citing lack of payment. This would be bad under any circumstances, but it's particularly egregious here, because it turned out that Drabinsky has a lot of form in this regard - there is no way that he should have been allowed to produce another show. West End and Broadway legend Rebecca Caine had publicly warned as much when news broke that he was taking on the show - his previous theatrical endeavours had ended not only with no payment, but with a 7 year jail sentence for forgery and fraud.
The fact that he was able to produce again and hurt so many people again is beyond awful - he has since been added to Equity's do not work list, but this comes too late for those he worked with on Paradise Square. However, the initial court proceedings - to which he didn't show up - set a fascinating precedent. If Drabinsky doesn't make good on his payments, the rights to Paradise Square will pass on to those unpaid designers, making Paradise Square the show with probably the most interesting rights situation in Broadway history, even it does illuminate some of the most unethical working practices to grace Broadway at the same time.
New Filing Suggests A Shortcut To Becoming A Tony-Nominated Producer
New Filing Suggests A Shortcut To Becoming A Tony-Nominated Producer
Joaquina Kalukango and the cast of ‘Paradise Square’ smiling after the opening night performance at … [+] the Barrymore Theater on April 3, 2022 (Photo by Bruce Glikas/Getty Images)
Bruce Glikas/Getty Images
There is trouble brewing in paradise.
Last week, the producers of the Broadway musical Paradise Square filed paperwork with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission to increase its…
“Drabinsky’s imminent re-emergence on Broadway thus places him at the center of a culture in which he no longer belongs, and positions him as a direct danger to the safety of his employees if this is allowed to happen. So far nowhere else has it been fully explored why.”
This is a link to the first of a four part piece published on https://www.onstageblog.com/ between the 28-30th October 2021 documenting the evidence as to why the producer Garth Drabinsky is an abusive tyrant and should not be allowed to return to Broadway.
The start of the article opens as follows:
The ‘Tyrannical and Abusive’ Garth Drabinsky, and His Attempted Return to Broadway with 'Paradise Square'
Who is Garth Drabinsky, what is Paradise Square, and why should anyone care?
The latter is being heralded as the first new musical to reopen Broadway. It has been described as “one of the most anticipated stage musicals to make it to Broadway since the pandemic began”, and as “set to rival Hamilton’s Broadway success”. It is hurtling along to open in Chicago in a matter of days on November 2nd, before shifting onto Broadway early next year in February.
The former is the attached producer of this show – a convicted felon from Canada, a lauded ex-producing mogul, and a creator of hostile working environments. He, correspondingly, has been described as a “seductive and relentless psychopath”, or as actress Rebecca Caine put it, “Scott Rudin but maple syrup flavoured”. A criminal lawsuit in 1998 characterized that “Drabinsky’s management style was tyrannical and abusive”. It is furthermore well-established that he has historically created and maintained producing environments where he, as reported by The Globe and Mail, “intimidated staff through profanity, abuse, and derision, either directly or by direction of other senior employees who adopted the same approach”.
In short – Garth Drabinsky’s return is a threat, and a direct contradiction to the progressive forward motion to be found currently as some of the world’s most notable theatrical environments emerge from unprecedented periods of dormancy. Cries like “#bringbackbetter” are elsewhere typifying the dominant mentality being striven for in hoping to create safer and more diverse workplaces for returning inhabitants. And, even further, tangible actions and consequences are in fact materializing in response to other publicly raised inequities.
Actors are leaving rather than returning to shows in outrage at current theatrical climates, like with Karen Olivo. Investigations via Actors’ Equity are being triggered into working conditions, like with Nora Schell and Jagged Little Pill. Corrupt or abusive white men who have conventionally yielded power in destructive ways are being removed from their positions of leadership, like with Ethan McSweeney or Scott Rudin.
Drabinsky’s imminent re-emergence on Broadway thus places him at the center of a culture in which he no longer belongs, and positions him as a direct danger to the safety of his employees if this is allowed to happen.
So far nowhere else has it been fully explored why.
The article has a concluding summary that states:
Garth Drabinsky is a historically convicted felon.
Garth Drabinsky is a historically known tyrant who creates unsafe working environments.
Garth Drabinsky has demonstrated A) a lack of evidence of remorse for his indiscretions, B) modern malpractices of finance, and C) sustained proof of the same historic tyrannical, angered, and fear-inducing approaches to work.
Paradise Square is heralded as new, but is in fact deceptively old and weighed down by a long entwinement around Drabinsky’s own sordid past, as well as racially antiquated founding material, and years of convoluted gestation through its discordant creative team.
Paradise Square is heralded as exciting with much potential for making a large cultural impact in tackling big issues, but there is lacking confidence based on Drabinsky’s previous associated works, or early versions of this work, that it will have the tools or competence needed to produce a nuanced examination of these topics.
The current theatrical climate in search of genuine progression, equity, and safety is outwardly incompatible with Drabinsky’s practices and behaviors, or with these inauthentic, improperly considered, or “showboating” manners of storytelling.
The aim of bringing public discourse to such topics is not to enact vengeance for failures of the past. The aim is to raise awareness and create spaces for discourse so as to possibly prevent them from happening again in the future.
Some of the other main points as raised in the article are reprinted below:
[After a run of successes in the ‘90s like Kiss of the Spiderwoman, Parade, and Ragtime,] Drabinsky’s reign as the King of Broadway was finite and his fall from grace inevitable. His company filed for bankruptcy in 1998 when his longstanding spiderweb of defenses broke, leading to revelations that he had stolen an estimated $500 million from investors. He was subsequently convicted of several counts of fraud and forgery and was sentenced to seven years in prison in 2009 for his corrupt, “multi-faceted and pervasive” schemes.
After his release, Drabinsky was also disbarred from practicing law, stripped of his order of Canada, and banned from working in a number of Canadian positions, like running any publicly trading companies.
The man has not produced or been linked to a show on Broadway since 1999.
Paradise Square is not a newly birthed entity, rising brightly out of the troubled waters of pandemia. Instead, it’s the 9-year-old puppet being dragged along in its master’s destructive never-ending quest for a comeback. And moreover, one that was plotted long before anticipation of being able to conveniently attach its storylines of black lives to the topical media bingo headlines of ‘BlackLivesMatter’, or being “particularly resonant now”, or “filled with the hot-button topics”.
Paradise Square first appeared in tangible form Off-Broadway in 2012 under the guise of a show called ‘Hard Times’. By 2015, Drabinsky had acquired its rights after discussions with one of the show’s original book writers, Larry Kirwan.
There’s a deep absurdity to be found in examining some of these timings. Kirwan was invited up to Toronto to meet Drabinsky by a friend “[who’d seen] the show in New York” after 2012. This was no great feat of hospitality, mind. Rather it was a matter of necessity: at this point in time, Drabinsky was not even legally allowed to physically enter America. He was still then a fugitive, hiding in Canada, “under indictment in the United States for fraud”. “If he sets one foot over the borderline, he’ll be clapped in irons,” the New York Post said in 2016.
This status of impending possible further conviction continued until the summer of 2018 when the last remaining criminal charges against him in America were finally dropped – a long two decades after they’d initially begun. This means that for around five years of his association with and work on Paradise Square, Mr. Drabinsky was literally still on the cusp of potentially being sent back to prison for his outstanding crimes.
(On actress Rebecca Caine’s treatment in the Canadian production of The Phantom of the Opera:)
During her time as the show’s principal female lead between 1989-1992, Caine experienced the use of prolonged, excessive, “brutish conduct” and violence on stage from her co-star Colm Wilkinson. This happened in tandem with the management and Mr. Drabinsky’s callous indifference to these matters that enabled the perpetuation of hostile working environments.
Caine spoke up about these harmful and negligent conditions, and the environment of fear she was forced to work in day after day at the time. The result? Drabinsky’s Livent terminated her contract and refused to pay the remaining portion of her salary.
There’s no shortage of supporting evidence for these details, due to the 150-page arbitration report that was generated in consequence of Caine being required to take on Drabinsky’s multi-million-dollar company. This saga formed a highly contentious and drawn-out legal battle in 1992, that was described for its severity and intensity by Canadian Actor’s Equity as strongly “not traditional”.
For all [the] significant damage Caine’s treatment caused her, the arbitrators ultimately found she had essentially done nothing to deserve it. They ruled that “Ms. Caine cannot be held accountable for Mr. Wilkinson’s brutish conduct towards her”, and that the circumstances of Wilkinson’s “excessive roughness…which was abusive in nature…did not justify the premature termination of Ms. Caine’s…contract”. As those involved from positions of managerial power were “either unable or unwilling to deal effectively with Mr. Wilkinson's roughness”, it is clear that the management team, Livent, and Mr. Drabinsky failed Rebecca and grossly endangered her safety.
Caine related that she raised concerns with members of Drabinsky’s management team “repeatedly about Wilkinson’s stage roughness”. Nothing was done. Meanwhile, Drabinsky himself in his status as a veritable “control freak” knew exactly what was going on. “[He] was aware of her grievances, and was meant to air them with Wilkinson.” He did not. Again, nothing was done. What DID he do instead then? He called Rebecca a “c*nt” via her agent, and “told her to get back on stage”.
Unfavorable working environments have also been described in relation to Paradise Square in the present, putting actors again in unsafe or adverse conditions. One example that documents this is an interview on Irish radio station Ceol na nGael in June of 2021 that described how the choreographer “Bill T. Jones is a monster” with “what he was getting the people to do and pushing them”.
[These] patterns of behaviors demonstrated by individuals employed by Drabinsky are concordant with patterns as revealed by Barry Avrich in his 2016 book “Moguls, Monsters and Madmen: An Uncensored Life in Show Business” – and also link to the initial indication of self-perpetuating cycles and cultures of abusive behavior.
Through his multiple decades of first-hand experience of working with and for Mr. Drabinsky, Avrich here uses his unique position to document some of the practices he observed, including experiences of being “forced to deal with Garth’s people”. These employees he describes as “all…suffering from Stockholm Syndrome” as the consequence of being made to regularly endure the behavior of their tyrannical master as a “control freak with a savage temper”. Avrich would say, “Having been beaten and pissed on by Garth, they were eager to beat and piss on everyone else beneath them”.
Garth was known abjectly to not treat his employees well. For instance, in frequent, long, and arduous meetings, “if someone made a mistake, or failed to answer a question, Garth took that person down ruthlessly, not just for that one error, but for every stumble and misdeed in his victim’s employment history”.
Amongst others who faced Drabinsky’s treatment as a “certified bastard and betrayer”, Avrich would affirm “some people left Garth’s employ damaged for life”.
Jon Wilner was one of many who could testify to this. And he did. Once Drabinsky’s respected advertising man, Wilner would report that when Livent went bust, his company was forced to declare bankruptcy too. “My career was cut in half... I had to fire 35 people and shut down a business I worked at for 28 years,” Wilner would say. “And all because of his maniacal ego.”
“There is not a day in my life that I don’t resent what Garth did to me”, he conveyed in 2008.
[Michael] Riedel dedicates considerable space in his 2020 book, ‘Singular Sensation’, to further accounts of Drabinsky’s abusive, violent and alarming behaviors over prolonged periods of time. These involve personal accounts like Drabinsky “pounding [Riedel’s] desk recorder so hard that [his] tape recorder fell off it” during an interview. Or alternatively, via retrospectively collected reports from those who worked with or under him. This included his “bullying” of his accounting department and putting them, “for several years, under intense pressure” while forcedly concocting his fraudulent books.
Drabinsky was one of Livent’s top three executives, and it was these “top executives [who] relied on coercion and intimidation to browbeat their accountants”. If Drabinsky didn’t like something during meetings, he would yell enraged expletives like “This is shit!”, and often target someone, usually a low-level employee, for humiliation. One specific example details how a “[young, female] underling in the marketing department…broke down in tears” when he “lit into” her just “because she didn’t have the answer to one of his questions”.
Evidence of this “brutish working environment at Livent” is further substantiated elsewhere, as in testimony via the company’s then-executive vice president, Robert Webster, in 1999 from an affidavit produced as part of Livent’s lawsuit. Webster details a culture where “bullying and abuse were standard fare”, which “included executives who screamed and swore at staff and employees who were reduced to tears”. He even more damningly reports how this “mistreatment started with the company’s founder” in saying “I had never before experienced anyone with Drabinsky’s abusive and profane management style”.
“Those who did not adhere to these demands were admonished”, Webster said. This left some employees who “felt nauseated by the tension”, some who were “shaking like a leaf” after giving Drabinsky memos, some who were told consistently their “work was of no use to him”, or even one who Drabinsky threatened he “would have to take action” against if his work was deemed lacking or – florally in Drabinsky’s words – if he “wanted to sit in a corner and jerk off instead of servicing [Drabinsky’s] needs”.
Drabinsky would also yell at and harass individuals who were meant to be his equals on creative or authority-based footings. Nancy Coyne, an advertising industry pioneer whom he was approaching to work on Kiss Of The Spiderwoman, recounted how from their very first meeting “he started to yell at and humiliate me”. Lynn Ahrens, as one of the composers of Ragtime, would recall events of him “shouting” at her with belligerent orders like “You will do what I tell you!”. And this was after he had already threatened her: “If you don’t do an amazing job, I’m going to fire you”.
He did indeed cause additional terminations of employment as well as just threatening with them. Before Webster, a previous executive vice president at Livent was Lynda Friendly. She “complained about the theatre impresario’s abusive and destructive behavior” towards her. Drabinsky fired her. Like Rebecca Caine, this presents another case of intense escalations including contract dismissal in the face of reported abuse. Friendly documents taking the matter to the Superior Court in 1997 where she gave evidence of Drabinsky “swearing at her in front of senior staff”. Some of the things Drabinsky yelled included tirades like, “Who the f--- do you think you are to tell me how to address you in my office? I'll do what I want. I run this company”.
But even beyond verbal abuse, Drabinsky wasn’t above physical violence either. Michael Riedel conveyed when one employee made an error regarding a hotel room, “he was so annoyed with his assistant he turned around and slapped him in the face”.
It must be remembered that he pleaded “not guilty” to his original crimes. He couldn’t even then admit to responsibility for his own culpability in breaking the law, instead declaring, “I have complete confidence that we will be vindicated” instead of being sent to jail.
Following his release from prison on parole years later, he gave an in-person talk in Canada in 2013 where he said, “I made serious omissions, mistakes and failings,” and “I am genuinely remorseful for the devastation” caused.
And yet. In his book, Barry Avrich would describe how he’d visited Drabinsky in jail and subsequently would question, “Did he have any remorse or would he express any culpability for what he had done? None that I could see. It was classic Garth. His defense mechanisms were in full operation—poor me, trapped in this bad situation that isn’t my fault”.
Or alternatively, Michael Riedel reported in 2015 after his release that “sources who keep tabs on Drabinsky say he’s unbowed and unashamed”. “He has no guilt,” Riedel recorded an “old confederate” saying, and that still, “he thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and if the world thinks he did, well, he’s done his time, and now he wants to get back to producing Broadway shows.”
At Drabinsky’s 2013 talk, his behavior also appears concordant with Avrich’s previous characterization of him as being emotionally manipulative and historically wont to covet sympathy. He described the horrors of his time in prison, as with the “murderers, pedophiles, drug dealers, addicts” and how his “life has been shattered”. But he neglects to mention that much of his sentence was in fact spent at the minimum security and quaintly named Beaver Creek establishment in Ontario – “not far from the summer camps he had attended as a boy”. Or alternatively, that he was mostly free on day parole and out of prisons entirely in halfway houses; or that “during weekends, he [spent] time with family at their home and at a cottage”.
In 2017, “he lashed out at Jonathan Tunick, the orchestrator” he’d chosen for his show Sousatzka, when he “wheeled on him during a rehearsal and screamed” or “bellowed” at “full-tilt” – “Why am I paying you all this money?”. Graciela Daniele as Sousatzka’s choreographer would bring up his “fiery temper” as well in 2016, and list amongst some redeeming qualities, that “he has his explosions” still.
Additionally, Drabinsky frequently exhibits an evasiveness and unwillingness to talk about his behaviors regarding financial matters with any clarity.
He cuts any discussion concerning money off with phrases like “I’m just not going to answer any of these questions, or “it’s not relevant”, as exemplified in his TV interview on The Agenda with Steve Paikin in 2016 in relation to Sousatzka.
Is it really not relevant to ask where the money is coming from for a project being helmed by a man who bankrupted a company, stole $500 million, additionally took $4.6 million’s worth in personal kickbacks, and hasn’t really worked since the turn of the century?
As he emerged from jail, it was documented in 2014 that Drabinsky had “received $7 million in outstanding loans from prominent friends “over several years to help cover his legal fees”.
One lawyer, who was owed “more than $61,000 for legal work” done in 2014, started an investigation into Drabinsky’s finances, in escalation of already fruitlessly “pursuing Drabinsky for payment for years”. Only in 2020 were the findings of these inquiries eventually concluded, whereupon it becomes apparent Drabinsky is still trying to exempt himself from standard, legal financial responsibilities. Rather than paying back those he owed, Drabinsky attempted moves like trying to eliminate evidence of a $2.63 million house of his, in transferring its ownership to his wife to put the “property out of reach of his creditors”. However, “the judge declared the ownership transfer void” given that “Mr. Drabinsky offers no other explanation that makes sense”, and the transaction “bore many badges of fraud”.
Illuminating how Drabinsky is still “deeply indebted” and concurrently intertwined with fraudulent practices is just one of the ways of observing how Drabinsky’s ‘changed ways’ and ‘remorseful behaviors’ appear hollow and highly questionable. What alternatively does not appear questionable, is Drabinsky’s clear angling for money and a return to notoriety and Broadway with as much control and power as he can conceivably acquire.
[As with Drabinsky’s previous attempted comeback project of ‘Sousatzka’ in 2016,] Drabinsky is in this same position of having total creative control again on Paradise Square. This does not bode well in theory, nor has it been received well so far in practice. This can be observed in considering elements of reviews from the 2019 staging of the show at Berkeley – “the costliest musical that the nonprofit Berkeley Repertory Theater has ever mounted” to the value of $5.7M – which occurred as the most recent precursor form of the musical before it will be seen imminently in Chicago.
The show was assessed here to be lacking in many key areas – including again both technically, and in its consideration of race. Tellingly, it was said the show “felt more committed to intellectual showboating than satisfying storytelling”. The results of reinterpreting Stephen Foster’s already problematic songs were not viewed as the most successful or even that well-done, instead, seeming like they were tacked on “like a barnacle…lingering from a long-gone Foster-centric” early iteration of the show.
(Stephen Foster was known for Depression-era hits, offensive ‘Minstrel Shows’, and now-perceptibly racist material.)
“The music has no particular fealty to the period”, it was written. Moreover, some of Foster’s songs have been awkwardly reimagined” – like with one now being loftily burdened as “an anthemic fight song”. For another, it was also remarked the creative team achieved “the extraordinary feats of making songs like “Oh, Susanna” less catchy”. Though this may not necessarily be a bad thing here upon closer examination. This is the song, after all, that Foster originally wrote for a “thick dialect [of his] own invention, [with a] second verse, which is never sung today, [that] contains the unforgettable line:
I jump’d aboard the Telegraph and trabbeled down de ribber
De lectrie fluid magnified and kill’d five hundred N***er.”
The piece might have bold storylines lines, such as “a labor strike sowing divisions between Irish and blacks; a deadly draft riot; a pregnancy; a debate over whether Stephen Foster has the right to tell slaves’ and blacks’ stories”. However. “Each of these storylines more declares itself than emerges organically”, and the “characters and situations still feel like cogs in a wheel not sure of its destination”.
In essence, it feels forced and confused. There were conclusions of it being “in need of more soul and fewer concepts”. The piece’s “heartbeat is often difficult to hear through the buzzy crosshatched brainwaves of a creative team that shows signs of internal discord”, resulting in it feeling “less like a genuine collaboration than an oft-passed baton, covered with everyone’s…fingerprints”. Thus it appears not a bold, new progressive endeavor founded on artistic integrity, but rather a belabored, arduous attempt trying to salvage matter out of already racially precarious or antiquated foundations, while its leader with his interests “undoubtedly invested heavily” tangentially chases his comeback.
On paper, the show has two black dramaturgs as well as “Black and Latinx” writers, yes. But it also has Drabinsky, a “monster”, an “assassin”, and a whole host of white creatives. Where does one draw the line on paper to decide if the balance is sufficiently weighed in favor of the optics of progressiveness, equity, and diversity?
Drabinsky is not new to being linked to “musicals that deal with racism in American history”. After all, he does have successful entities like Parade and Ragtime as well as a revival of Show Boat to his name.
But Drabinsky is not the culturally and racially sensitive poster child he would like to have the world believe from linkage to the above shows. One glaring warning concerns that for the opening line of his 2013 talk to herald his release, he had the audacity to appropriate his time in prison as being comparable to the Holocaust, in “[quoting] from Holocaust survivor Elie Weisel on how the duty of those who have survived a great test is to tell the story”.
Another warning example concerns Norm Lewis when he declined Drabinsky’s ardent pursuits for him to feature in the national tour of Ragtime – as Eddie Shapiro recounted in his 2021 book “A Wonderful Guy”. Drabinsky then raged, “Who the f*ck does Norm Lewis think he is? Doesn’t he know that I'm the most significant producer on Broadway?... Doesn’t he know what I've done for blacks?”.
Thus there is a warning before current readers get beguiled by ambitious lines in new articles on Paradise Square promising notions of great success, advocacy, and diversity. It must first be considered more carefully as to Drabinsky’s own fundamentally exposing beliefs, words, and actions, and the way in which these same elements have been handled in his two (and only) previous creative attempts in the last two decades.
It should be finally highlighted that opportunities on Broadway are finite and second chances for those exhibiting or having previously exhibited evil or intensely problematic behaviors are not mandatory. There are, in fact, other options.
A New York Times piece last summer by Michael Paulson entitled “Black Plays Are Knocking on Broadway’s Door. Will It Open?” features musings from many notable voices following Paulson’s opening declarative of “Calls for diversity grow louder”. Among them is playwright Jocelyn Bioh. “I don’t know how to solve the diversity issue on Broadway,” Bioh said, “other than calling attention to it, and cultivating a generation of producers who are not afraid.”
This seems reasonable. Perhaps her requirement could be modified slightly: there should be a generation of producers who are neither afraid, but nor do they inspire fear.
Garth Drabinsky does not fit that bill.
If THIS is the man – a known abusive tyrant, volatile felon, and remorseless manipulator who is still demonstrating dangerously unscrupulous financial, behavioral and creative practices – who is Broadway’s literal first choice to reopen the very first new work in the world’s most prominent theatre scene, we are in trouble.
After a brief conferral between Garth and his flack, they made their way into my shooting space and I fine tuned the lighting and took a Polaroid, which Drabinsky insisted on seeing. I switched to the first film back, but before I could give my subject any directions, the flack got to work pumping him up for the shot.
"Okay, Garth," he began. "You're outside the theatre, walking down Broadway, The sun is just starting to set. The show is a big hit. You look up..."
Original Toronto Phantom Of The Opera - early days - as recounted by Byron Nease; post #6
This is the sixth of six posts that involve Mr. Nease, Rebecca Caine, and the Toronto POTO (& just a tiny bit about Colm Wilkinson) taken from excerpts from Byron’s autobiography, “ Behind the Mask . . . No More.”
“ Not only was this opening to be a jewel in the crown of Garth Drabinsky, it was a ‘cause celeb’ for Toronto. . . .”
“Both the opening of Phantom and the reopening of the Pantages would be the subject of books and documentaries - and we were right in the middle of it all. Alone in my dressing room, wearing pink sponge rollers to give my hair the body God had not, I began to make the transition from Byron to Raoul. It suddenly struck me that I was doing what I had always wanted to do. I was a leading man in a major production where all the stops were pulled out. This was a spectacular moment. And I was ready for the curtain to go up.
. . . The performance was thrilling, the audience overwhelmingly receptive, and the ovations and curtain calls were the stuff of dreams. Backstage, it occurred to me that I had suddenly become a bit of a celebrity - and even more wonderfully, was being taken into the hearts of the good citizens of Toronto.
. . . we went to the opening night party, the spectacle of which rivaled that of the stage production. All of the streets around the Pantages were blocked off. There were so many Rolls Royces, limousines, and Daimlers that we could barely make our way to the car. . .
We arrived at Casa Loma, an outrageous architectural landmark and tourist attraction. . . For the occasion, Garth had hired the Canadian Ballet Company to dance, leap, and twirl about the castle as the guests arrived. There were also extras draped about the premises wearing period costumes. We passed through a walkway of trees created entirely of long-stemmed, red roses beneath a hologram of the Phantom’s mask spinning in the air above the castle turrets.
Inside was a montage of rich food, fine wine, and dancers lit by thousands of candles. I met the Prime Minister of Canada, all the provincial dignitaries and representatives of the Queen, the American delegation, . . . Andrew Lloyd Weber, and a long list of celebrities.
. . . I couldn’t help but wonder if my professional life would ever match that which I’d already experienced in Toronto. And although in many ways it has, it doesn’t matter. Because once a man has been part of something great, no matter how brief, that greatness stays with him.”
6/6 posts
[bold added for emphasis]
From Byron Nease’s autobiography, Behind the Mask . . . No More, published 2008. (excerpt from pp. 108-110; 112)
Original Toronto Phantom Of The Opera - early days - as recounted by Byron Nease; post #5
This is the fifth of six posts that involve Mr. Nease, Rebecca Caine, and the Toronto POTO (& just a tiny bit about Colm Wilkinson) taken from excerpts from Byron’s autobiography, “ Behind the Mask . . . No More.”
“The day we moved into the Pantages Theatre was very exciting . . .
The theater had long since been broken up into a multiplex movie house, and had just undergone a $19-million renovation to bring it back to the original glory of its vaudeville days. Garth [Drabinsky] spared no expense, bringing in craftspeople from all over the world, and the result was dazzling. But no more dazzling than the opulent sets, costumes, wigs, and props that would produce the visual splendor of Paris at the mid-19th century. I was completely overwhelmed and a more than a little awed.
The fog and smoke machines . . . the 194 trap doors all connected to hydraulic lifts . . . the candelabras moving in and out and up and down . . . stairways larger than some buildings, moving on rollers. . . thousands of yards of fabric dropping from above. . . jeweled gowns that weighed more than the women who wore them. . . hundred of wigs hand-tied for the actors wearing them, and pounds of make-up. . . cameras and video screens under, over, and on the sides of the stage . . the orchestra, which is an entire world unto itself . . . dressers running in every direction. . . the corps de ballet warming up in every nook and cranny, and vocal exercises echoing from all corners.. . mechanics, electricians, carpenters, the fly crew, photographers, press people, dignitaries, corporate sponsors, political VIPs, local and international celebrities. This was opening night backstage.
. . . Garth poked his head in the door to say, ‘This is the most important night of our lives. Don’t fuck it up!’ I replied with Robert Browning’s quote, ‘A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?’ I don’t think he got it.”
5/6 posts
[bold/italic added for emphasis]
From Byron Nease’s autobiography, Behind the Mask . . . No More, published 2008. (excerpt from pp. 107-108)
