Sunday, December 7, 2008

Someone I was really good friends with last semester shut me out at the beginning of this one. We are still friendly when we see each other, but there's always an awkward tension you know? anyway tonight I was invited to a "soiree" as the girls hosting called it...basically a christmas party. And she showed up and it was fine and we kept having all these moments where we'd make each other laugh. Even though we haven't hung out in so long it is so obvious at least to me that we still can like instantly click. Anyway that's postive, but the negative part that puts this in the mixed thread was that when I got home I was feeling kind of down about it and put on my facebook status:

"Benny wishes we could talk about it, but it just seems too little and too late. 01:05"
And then a few minutes later she posts:
"**** .... The friendship that can cease has never been real.... 01:13"
I don't know what to make of that. I mean I'm really sure it was aimed at my status/me, but I mean to me and it seemed to her we totally click still, so either she's thinking what I am or she's thinking we never really were friends. Ugh I'm so confused. Then I posted some really emo lyrics to a ballad I wrote. Hahah :)


Anyway here are the lyrics...I'm not sure if I'm going to put in a bridge and a tag or not...eh let me know what you think! :P


Make me strong.
Make me wise.
In your eyes
I will see
all the fear
that's in me.

In this song
are the thoughts
I have thought
for so long
and in you
I can see
a brand new me.

I'm grateful for
ev'rything you do to make me smile.
I'm grateful for the
looks you give me ev'ry once in a while,
and I won't forget
your kindness nor your lovely tenderness
I'm grateful for
ev'rything that lives inside your kiss.

Sure, I tried
so hard
to hide
how I feel
but I can't
pretend
it isn't real.

So, I'll wait
for your response
nervous as hell
yet compelled
by your grace
and your heart-
felt embrace.


I'm grateful for
ev'rything you do to make me smile.
I'm grateful for the
looks you give me ev'ry once in a while,
and I won't forget
your kindness nor your lovely tenderness
I'm grateful for
ev'rything that lives inside your kiss.



Night.
--Benjamin

Monday, November 17, 2008

I'm going to preface this by saying I wrote it without looking back and haven't re-read it. It's, like an entry from Sept., a streamline of thought that I had to express and get out of me. I can't express how estranged I feel from myself right now. I hope you, whoever you are (whomever??), can understand for me. Thanks.


I feel like my time here has run out. I'm just so lost, and never really happy with this place. I don't know if it's me or not, and that's the biggest problem. I'm at a school with such a great talent pool (in my opinion, at least) and I can't bring myself to be happy to be here. I feel like I'm letting myself fail so that I can be forced to leave. Is it because I can't accept that I don't want to be here anymore? I honestly can't even tell. I just feel like there are one or two singular things making me stay, but so much of me seems to want to leave. So much of me wants to be happy, but at the same time I feel like I can't leave. I feel like going back to Dallas, transferring to UNT or UTD or something would be just as wrong because I'm afraid of going back. I am afraid that if I go back I won't ever leave, I'll just stay and get stuck in the black hole of my home. And I know I can't go to another school like OCU, or a better one. I can't even afford to go here but my parents put themselves through so much so that I can go here, and I'm not even fucking happy. And even though I know they're suffering financially for me to get the education I wanted, I let myself throw it away, and I let myself throw money away, pretending that since most other peers here are wealthier than I that I am at their level. And I'm afraid to leave because of the people that I got to come here. When I came here I was so happy. I was so excited to learn new things and to meet people and that got friends from Creekview (my high school) to come here also. I feel like if I leave I'm telling them that my initial happiness was a total lie. I just don't know what to do, I loved my first year here so much, and learned a lot, but I just feel like this entire semester has been pointless, and I can't say there's been a moment where I wasn't hating something about this place. Hate is a strong word and I've had it thrown at me a lot but I don't mind throwing it back, especially when it comes to a toxic, suffocating environment like this. Do I make myself stay, hoping that somehow next semester will be different? I don't have the strength to make it different, and I really don't see this place changing for me ever. They'll just use me, and when I do achieve success, hail themselves as the creators of it. Use me as the reason they are great. The fact that I initially only wanted to come here because some blonde chick named Kristin Chenoweth went here sickens me. My naivete at the time sickens me. Coming here did teach me one thing, at least, and that is that people who become Kristin Chenoweth, Kelli O'Hara, Linda Twine, they don't become who they are because of OCU. Not at all. They become who they are because they were always that person.

If one person that has abandoned me would just reach out, genuinely, for one fucking second I would stay. Not just say "hi" in passing because they're obligated to because we once understood each other and were close friends. But because they fucking cared, and didn't care what others said about their friendship with me.

one of the reasons I keep telling myself not to leave is because of Dr. Knight. I have learned a lot from studying with him. I can still learn some, I'm sure. but I just don't want to write what I don't want to write. I can't bring myself to write this music that exists only because I'm supposed to write it. Maybe one day I'll want to write a god damned string quartet, maybe one day I'll actually like the idea of composing a brass quintet, but today, I want to write for myself, and I can't even do that here it feels like. The second I was told to stop brining in vocal music because we have to focus on other things was the second I knew I couldn't be inspired anymore. I feel so much in me, but I see it dwindling from the haggard corosion of this place. I feel suffocated by what I have to do, because it "provides a solid classical foundation that will lead me into whatever path I want to follow" [musically]. No. I don't believe in that anymore. Maybe it's because I already had this coming in, maybe I'm just discouraging myself for the mistakes I've made. I should have taken Music Theory 3 my first semester. I was ready to jump to that level, and I was ready to not even take Piano at all the second I got here. But I let myself and it has killed me. I'm not happy here, but I can't leave. I'm afraid to give up on this place just because I'm not happy. Maybe it's because I once was so inspired and fulfilled by this place. But even then I could see the glass start to crack (metaphorically). Maybe it's because my car had a lot less dents and scratches on it before I came here, also.

I'm done venting. I don't know what I'll do. Do you want to give me your advice?

Friday, November 14, 2008

Oh and I wrote my Tony speech today it's really good:

"I came to New York to follow my dreams and I came to Broadway to accomplish my goals and I came here to night to win a Tony AND I GOT IT MOTHERF*CKERS. Good night Radio City (or wherever they'll be held)"
You talk about life, you talk about death,
And everything in between,
Like it's nothing, and the words are easy.
You talk about me, and you talk about you,
And everything I do,
Like it's something, that needs repeating.
I don't need an alibi or for you to realize,
The things we left unsaid,
Are only taking space up in our heads.
Make it my fault, win the game
Point the finger, place the blame
It does me up and down,
It doesn't matter now.

'Cause I don't care if I ever talk to you again.
This is not about emotion,
I don't need a reason not to care what you say,
Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation,
And it don't, don't make sense.




I'm really happy to say I'm no longer reeling at all from the beginning of this semester. It's weird, when I came here last year I started my life. And then when I went home this past summer I grew it there, so coming back here was like trying to jump from a highwire and the friends that I had last year were the metaphorical net that would catch me. But most of them didn't catch me. Now I feel like I have a balance, and I'm really satisfied.

I'm even warming up to writing instrumental music. It freaked me the fuck out at first, and it wasn't even until October that I started my first piece. Dr. Knight and I agreed that my musical inspiration always draws from a need to give music a dramatic purpose. It's like, why start writing an opera if you don't know the plot? The music, the style, the words, all need to come from the story. And it took me a long time to realize that with instrumental music. So I'm almost done, and my first purely instrumental piece since the Violin/Cello duet I wrote for my High School teachers is a Brass Quintet. It's based on the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale "The Little Match Girl." I think it's decent. Definitely nice music, and with program notes you can definitely see how it illustrates the story.

My upcoming piece, which I'm much more excited about and inspired by, is for Clarinet/Viola/Piano. It's going to be based on the play Proof, which I love because the play doesn't at all lend itself to musical theatre adaptation, but it totally lends itself to this. It's really interesting the way we learn to write with Dr. Knight's guidance and the way other people write. Technically you can't say anyone has the right way, but I really feel like you can't get the clearest and most precise translation of the music in your head on paper any way other than what we do. Drawing lines across paper to map the arc of the music, writing sporadic dots and making rhythms out of them, even just writing down descriptive words above a staff of music with no music. The real composing happens in us all the time, in our heads and in our hearts. The "composing" where we write shit down (usually 30 minutes before our lesson with Dr. Knight) is just work, really. But it's fun. And seeing your music on paper or hearing it played back from the computer can open your mind to new ideas for it also. My favorite of the really abstract concepts is something that I did in High School. I'm using it with proof and it's gotten some really great music out of me. What I did is I write down words on the music staff, and then use the piano to notate the shape of the letters. It's so weird, though I doubt I'm the only one who's ever done it (it's not like I think I invented it) but I really feel like the concept is one of my "trademark" techniques now that I've used it more than once. And I'm totally okay with that. I'm also loving the idea of musicalizing plays that could NEVER be musicals. I'm pondering a four-piece ensemble to use for "Doubt" by John Patrick Shanley, and thinking about other plays as well. There was one that we did in High School that I loved, called "Intimate Apparel," and I feel like I could totally do that one for my piece where I have to use percussion. I've never written for percussion before, except for a drum set for "The Devil Wears Prada," and for Timpani in my full orchestra piece from High School (though I have no clue how legit that is, hahaha). It will definitely be a test.

I submitted all my vocal work to OCUStripped this year. I'm hoping something comes out of it but not expecting much. It would be so amazing if it did, and would really give me the springboard to get bigger people to hopefully want to perform my stuff. I guess the main problem is that if they pick me, that means that they DON'T pick aspiring writers from NYC or other parts of the country, who could potentially give OCU and OCUStripped a lot more coverage and word of mouth. For example I'm pretty sure Stripped waited until Joel B. New had left and moved to NYC before they performed his works. But hopefully they'll see what I see in myself and give me a chance. I've always felt really conceited about it, but I genuinely feel like I have this gift where I can tell when I write something or read something how to make it work on stage. I feel like I can see the perfect execution, direction, everything. I honestly was SO disappointed for the first few national tours I saw in High School because listening to the Cast Recording I had invisioned a much better production. I remember seeing Hairspray and thinking that the blocking was so stiff and unreal. I remember The Producers was too "this is funny, now you laugh" about its humor (but then again that's Mel Brooks in general). I actually think the first production that impressed me was actually "Parade" here at OCU. Weird.

Anyway, where the hell are the bootlegs of Shrek on BroadWay?! I really want to hear the new material!! I've got to go, I have to shave and clip my fingernails and go to Composer Forum. I'll be on later so IM me friendssss... (aim=uhhbenjamminwtf)


-Ben

Monday, October 6, 2008

"I'm So Confused"

I once had a friend that would always say that. Sometimes it made sense that she would be confused, but other times...no. It was just baffling. For a while I just thought she was slow on the uptake or something. Like a person you have a conversation with but you can just tell the wheels are going a little slower for them than for you. You know?

Finally I realized what it was. Wether consciously or not, she said it in situations where she was being made to do something she didn't want to do. It was at a sushi restaurant, when they told her they'd have to charge her extra for substituting something, and she tried to argue that they never had before, but when told by our waitress that she had to charge extra, my friend was just like "I'm so confused. What?" That's when I saw the manipulative nature of the phrase. If someone's telling you something you don't want to accept, or telling you you have to do something you don't want to do, you can argue it for a while, and then just cop out and say that you're confused. Sometimes it works, and it causes the other person to do what you want them to do. Other times you just have to accept that the world doesn't work in your favor.

I don't really think my friend has accepted that yet.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Blog of emotion

Hi. I'm just writing this here because there are only two people I remotely expect to come across and read it.

anyway two things are making me need to vent. The first one is this amazing guy named Chris.

We kind of were gonna hook up before Spring Break in March but that didn't happen because he is so adorable and he is an eagle scout and he was going on a trip down to camp on the beach in corpus christi. so we talked all week and then we met at the end of spring break. I don't know what happened but it was just this night where you meet someone that you just so effortlessly click with. And even though no one really noticed, for the rest of March I was a total mess around school. I guess I hid it well. but even though I tried to date other people, like Lucas, and while they made me happy, I have still found myself coming back to him. They're just these emotions you can't stifle..its weird. Anyway. I wasn't sure I'd ever see him again but I did.

on Labor Day we drove to Paulo Duro canyon (eagle scouts loves nature. <3) and got this amazingggg cabin overlooking the canyon. it was so pretty and then at night you could actually see the stars and we sat on the roof and watched the sky and drank wine. anyway it's just interesting how after so many things happen in your life from point A and B and you still feel such an intense connection with someone...it kind of makes things seem like they are meant to be. But they can't be. since my beloved lives in Kansas City. COOL right? :( Anyway we had an amazing night and now I am just as much a mess as I was last March. But I feel better about it. We can actually talk to each other about it this time. and we're there for each other. maybe not physically but there's a promise to see each other again asap. and i know i'm just being an idealistic kid but it just makes me hope that maybe one day we won't have to feel so lonely.

anyway and then someone i'd considered one of my closest friends just decided we shouldn't hang out anymore. Which I guess is cool. It's just confusing. I get the impression from the way I'm talked to that just because I would text her today instead of call her that i'm immature? Well news flash. My life doesn't revolve around you. I just spent the last night with someone I can't imagine never seeing again and you want to talk about how you don't want to be friends again, and I have to go to work and pretend to be happy and that I care about selling lotions and soaps to bigoted republicans, but because i texted you instead of called you I'm the immature one here? I'm done with any friends that remotely make me feel like i'm walking on eggshells when I'm with them. I don't care how much fun we have together, and really, I don't care that you don't want to hang out. However, I appreciate that you care enough about me to want the attention from me by calling me up to tell me we aren't gonna hang out anymore, instead of just letting things happen. Have the decency to be flaky or something, i mean, REALLY.

I put pictures up on my facebook. The canyon was so amazing. I couldn't get any pictures of the night sky, but if you haven't seen the night sky in the way it was naturally made (or God intended..if you so believe that), you really don't know what this world is like. to see that with someone i'm so happy with, to feel that immense feeling of worthless uselesness one gets from realizing just how tiny we are in the grand scheme of things, but to have someone there that makes you so content, it brings you to life.

i'm really just rambling now sooo good night

Saturday, July 19, 2008

parents parents parents




I heart
N  Y

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Broadway: The Sleeping Beauty

Picture her. A gorgeous blonde girl, donning pink duds and with perfectly volumed golden hair. She sleeps tenderly, almost as if she's pretending, but she isn't because the loudest bang wouldn't wake her.


Then Haylie Duff walks in and kisses Elle Woods.

Broadway miraculously is awake, in MTV's new reality show The Search For Elle Woods: The Most Groundbreaking Event in Broadway and Musical Theatre's History.

If you haven't been watching this show all summer, YOU. HAVEN'T. BEEN. LIVING.
However you can see the episodes online. Go do that. Now.
After a slew of cutting the wrong girl, the casting panel (btw, where the fuck is Jerry Mitchell) got it even more wrong last night when they cut Lauren. What the hell!

But next week is the pinnacle of The Search For Elle Woods Awesomeness. The two remaining Elle Woods Candidates will be performing IN THE PALACE THEATRE WITH THE SHOW'S SETS AND COSTUMES AND BEING FIERCE AND OWNING THOSE BITCHES.

I am so excited and you should be too. Thank you MTV for waking our sleeping industry with your groundbreaking show (Grease revival? What?). Thank you and God bless you, Haylie Duff. God bless you and your awesome BROADWAY VETERAN STAR STATUS for giving those girls the chance for the role of a lifetime.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Bath and Body Works owes me a massage

I worked from 2.45pm to 3.30ish am for our floorset last night. I am so sore in places not even Miley could heal.

But I digress:

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

My Chronicles of Brookhaven College ( a school cunningly titled to avoide the fact that it's a Dallas Community College )

Every day some time between 11:30 and noon I walk into Brookhaven and see someone I went to High School that I didn't like.

Then I go up the stairs to the lunch food area and see at least three people I went to High School with that I didn't like. Sometimes there is one or two that I never disliked, but also never talked to.

Then I sit in my US History class for about two hours and 10 minutes. Fortunately, our instructor lost my first test, so I got a perfect score on it. And now I'm exempt...yayyyy.


If I recall I wasn't exempt from anything in High School. LOL

Benji

Monday, June 30, 2008

Cool wordle thing

This is a collage of words...I put in the lyrics for one of my songs, "Finally Free." :)




make your own!
http://wordle.net

Thank you to Greg for showing me this, and further postponing this fucking Research Paper.

Benji

Tonight's Insights

the law is a structure designed to protect the governed from harm. it's not a guideline for life but an advisory

don't expect a jewish boy to be a top. (this means i really need to harness my WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) heritage and get on the horse. ya i said it.)

theatre is more vicarious than film, i'm noticing. you are seeing real people experience things youre not brave enough to experience yourself. it's the moments you can't believe; yet know are true.

God can't act...neither can the Baptists.


it is also of note that I may soon be in a writing partnership in which we will be called "Ben and Jerry."

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Thoughts on June 25th.

I don't know what happened on June 25th, 1989. And that is because I was born on the 26th of '89.

Today two important things happened. Well okay four. I'll get through the vain things first.

1) I got a hair cut. She didn't cut it as short as I'd asked, but whatever I liked her. Too bad the cut was expensive...lol
2) I went shopping after the hair cut.

3) Then I went to 24hr fitness this evening. I saw what I thought was the epitome of "tall, dark, and handsome." Then I saw him up close. Well, no one's perfect.

4) I went to Pei Wei with my dad. We were in seperate cars because afterwards we took mine to Lute Riley Honda because there's something wrong with the driver's door.

Anyway I got there first, and as I was waiting for my dad I stood in the line but near the back and was just looking at the menu. A minute later a pregnant woman (I'd guess 4 or 5 months, big enough to tell it's not just fat, but not busting by any means) came in with three kids. They stood behind me and looked at the menu, and of course I listened to her talk to her kids. One of her kids asked her if they were meeting "Jenny" (I am going to put that name because I can't remember the girl's real name). And the woman told her kid that Jenny was in Houston and that he was "stupid" for asking that question because why would they be meeting her if she was in Houston. I shrugged it off. After a few minutes she abrasively asked me if I was waiting for someone or in line. I told her that I was waiting for my dad and she moved in front of me. A moment later my dad walked in, and we walked past her again and ordered.

Then we sat down at one of the booths, where there were two 4-person tables. The woman and her kids came up and took the other table, but asked to take our table because they had 6 people with them. It is important to note that she in fact abrasively asked this of us, too.

So we get our food and she and her kids and their other friend (another mom, not pregnant, and her son) come and are eating with them. The kids are talkative and adorable, but the mom (not the new one, she is nice and ignores her friend's bitchyness) is really just terrible when she talks to her kids. I ignore it mostly, and then I look over and see something that REALLY hacked me off. This woman's daughter is sitting next to her, and she has her face in her daughters face pushing her agains tthe wall, saying "Would you SHUT THE HELL UP?? Jesus christ!" and shit like this. The little girl (i'd guess like 8 years old) is sobbing and hiding her face for at least 10 minutes, while her mom just ignores her. Then I look over after she finally has stopped that she is clinging to her mother's arm, like she's begging her mom to forgive her. And her mom is just ignoring her daughter.

What the fuck is wrong with people. Now, I don't expect myself to have kids. I know that I'm not a good enough person to let my life become devoted to someone else. I accept that, and I don't think less of myself because of that. It's just who I am. I won't have kids. But seeing that just made me sick. I really wanted to say something to her. Like I literally feel like it was my obligation as a human being. I didn't because my dad didn't even notice and I didn't want him to think I was crazy..or something...whatever I just didn't and I feel terrible for it now. After we left, I was driving down Park and wanted to turn around and go back and say something to her. If I knew which car was hers, I would have keyed that shit. How the hell does she feel entitled to have children when she is too much of a fucking selfish BITCH to love them, or pay attention to them, or be patient with them? This woman doesn't deserve to have children. I really don't see how a God, if there were one, would let this happen. If I were God I would have made that woman barren as Arizona. Fuck, I wouldn't even let her find love and marry whatever man she's married to, who probably doesn't realize his wife treats his children like that. God dammit. The people in this world; who do they think they are?

Well, enjoy the middle class, sweetie.

-Benji

Friday, June 20, 2008

The Conception of Song and Dance

Hi. I thought I'd post an essay I wrote for English last semester (and the semester before ;) ). It's interesting, I hope. If you want to hear ANY of the songs quoted, feel free to IM me on AIM.



On March 31, 1943, the musical “Oklahoma!” opened at the St. James theatre in New York, New York. In their first collaboration, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II had created a seamless piece of theatre that flowed from the spoken scenes of plays to soaring operatic music in which the characters of the play sang alone and together. It was the first work of its kind and the beginning of a new era for the American theatre.
It is often asked by the musical theatre-abhorring cynic: “Why would we be randomly bursting into song and dance in real life?” Thus is the bane of the life of every person that works in or appreciates musical theatre. It is not that what you watch in front of you on a stage is a direct representation of reality. It is not and never will be meant to represent a completely realistic reality. That is the beauty of what musicals are.
In a musical there is no shame in singing to express ones’ self. A musical theatre piece sets its world (no matter how realistic the world itself is) in a variant of reality in which singing is the way to express ones’ self. The basic principle behind bursting into song is that a character’s emotions have come to such a peak that they have to sing to express themselves; words simply are not enough to do the job. In short, musical theatre is a suspended portrayal of reality in which the only way a character can express heightened emotions or feelings is by using music and lyrics, which transcend the spoken word and communicate in an even more human way with the audience. A classic example that spells out this situation is “Unexpected Song” from Song and Dance (lyrics by Don Black, music by Andrew Lloyd Webber):

“I have never felt like this
For once I'm lost for words
Your smile has really thrown me
This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
The kind of love you've shown me.” (Lloyd Webber)

There are, of course, different ways to employ the concept of musical theatre. In the musical “Into The Woods” by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine, the writers weave in the collective stories of different fairy tale characters (Cinderella, Rapunzel, Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood) with an original fairy tale about a baker and his wife. When the characters enter the woods, though, they leave behind the fairy tale stigma we have of them and become real people. Murder, thievery, and adultery are all things that the characters do in the woods. The Baker’s Wife commits adultery with Cinderella’s Prince (who in the end is the only truly innocent character, admitting, “I was raised to be charming, not good.”) and after sings about the choices she makes and whether it is worth it to leave the security of her husband for the excitement of a prince. She then entertains the possibility of having both, but realizes that one cannot have an “and” (Baker and Prince), it must always be “or,” and that while she has had a moment with the Prince, moments are not meant to last:


“Oh, if life were only moments,
Even now and then a bad one-!
But if life were only moments,
Then you’d never know you’d had one.

Let the moment go...
Don't forget it for a moment, though.
Just remembering you've had and "and",
When you're back to "or",
Makes the "or" mean more
Than it did before.
Now I understand-

And it's time to leave the woods” (Stephen Sondheim 112-113).

As she processes what she has done and what the consequences would be, the writer here allows us to completely follow the thought process of the character. It is this complexity in the writing and way a musical theatre song is written that seems unappreciated by those who insist that breaking into song is unrealistic. The only way to answer that statement honestly is “well, duh.”
Songs are also written for other purposes. What is referred to as a “book” song (the “book” of a musical is not only the spoken scenes but also the outline and structure of the piece, including the order of scenes and songs and the arcs of characters) is a song in which the plot progresses through song, whereas the previously mentioned “Moments in the Wood” is a song in which the plot is halted to delve into the inner thoughts of a character. A “book” song is, in essence, what could be done as a spoken scene but is made more interesting through the addition of characters’ expression with prose and music. Take for instance another Stephen Sondheim classic, the Act One finale “A Little Priest” in his operetta-musical “Sweeney Todd.” The revenge-seeking barber Sweeney Todd and his cohort Mrs. Lovett are at wits end what to do with an Italian that Sweeney has had to murder to avoid his identity being revealed to those he seeks revenge upon. And Mrs. Lovett’s meat pie shop has been going down hill for a while due to rising cost of meat. The characters cackle as they imagine charmingly sadistic idea of using people for pies:

Mrs. Lovett
Here we are, now! Hot out of the oven!
Sweeney Todd
What is that?

Mrs. Lovett
It's priest. Have a little priest.
Sweeney Todd
Is it really good?
Mrs. Lovett
Sir, it's too good, at least!
Then again, they don't commit sins of the flesh,
So it's pretty fresh.
Sweeney Todd
Awful lot of fat.
Mrs. Lovett
Only where it sat.
Sweeney Todd
Haven't you got poet, or something like that?
Mrs. Lovett
No, y'see, the trouble with poet is
'Ow do you know it's deceased?
Try the priest!” (Stephen Sondheim 106)

It is clear that this scene of demented characters fantasizing about cannibalism could be settled in a spoken scene; in fact, it was. The musical adaptation of “Sweeney Todd” is based on a play by Christopher Bond, which also gives motivation and darker reasons behind the mad killings of “the demon barber of fleet street.” “In the play,” says composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim, “the first act ends with them falling into each others’ arms in laughter. And I thought what are they laughing about? And it occurred to me that they were laughing at the thought of making people into meat pies. And there was the song.” (Broadway: The American Musical)
Another classic song that a character will sing is the “I Want” song. It typically is placed near the beginning of the show, in which the protagonist sings about what their goals are and how they will achieve them. One of the most ingenious “I Want” songs comes from one of the most ingenious premises; that of the musical Wicked. The musical itself is the “prequel” to The Wizard of Oz, in which we are told the story of Elphaba (who becomes The Wicked Witch of the West) and Galinda (who becomes Glinda the Good Witch) and how they are roommates at school and become close friends. Elphaba’s “I Want” song is about how she has always known she was different (despite being green, she also discovers that she can produce magic), and how she will meet The Wizard of Oz and show him her powers and he will make people love her by association. The lyrics of the final chorus are cunningly ironic, her inevitable fate kept in mind:

“And I'll stand there with the Wizard,
Feeling things I've never felt.
And though I'd never show it,
I'll be so happy, I could melt!
And so it will be
For the rest of my life,
And I'll want nothing else
‘Till I die.
Held in such high esteem.
When people see me, they will scream
For half of Oz's favorite team;
The Wizard and I!” (Schwartz 25-27)

The next-and my favorite-type of song in a musical is the “Eleven O’clock number.” This part is employed in almost every musical since the 1970s. It is commonly thought of as a large, or particularly moving song placed near the end of the second act of a musical just before the final denouement of the plot. Its name was coined as such because, with the later times that a performance started earlier in the century, the number was meant to signify the time.
The most prime example of a pure “Eleven O’clock number” is the song “The American Dream” from Miss Saigon. The musical (though almost completely sung-through, it is also considered an Operetta or a “Pop opera”) was the first work of theatre to be set in or comment on the Vietnam war. It tells the story inspired by the Puccini opera Madame Butterfly of an American soldier who falls in love with a Vietnamese prostitute. He is torn from her when the Americans retreat from the nation, and unknowingly leaves her with his son. Years later they are reunited, she has been waiting the entire time to see him again; he, however, has moved on and married a new woman. The character known only as The Engineer, who owned the bar that the Vietnamese girl worked at, imagines the grandeur of America as he is finally about to go to the United States for the first time after years of pining for a Visa. Employing also the previously mentioned device of interior monologue, we enter his mind and see the warped vision of America that foreigners were promised:

“What's that I smell in the air?
The American dream.
Sweet as a new millionaire:
The American dream.
Pre-packed, ready-to-wear,
The American dream.
Fat, like a chocolate éclair
As you suck out the cream.

Luck by the tail.
How can you fail?
And best of all, it's for sale:
The American dream.” (ST Lyrics, The American Dream)

The excessive number, which includes bringing a Cadillac onstage, is an homage to the promise of prosperity in America that so many immigrants envision. The idyllic lyrics, at other points stating “girls can buy tits by the pair / bald people think they’ll grow hair,” are brought to the resounding truth of capitalism in America at the end of the stanza: “And best of all, it’s for sale: / The American dream.” (ST Lyrics, The American Dream)
Through the seamless blend of spoken word and song, some of the greatest stories have been told. From green witches, to mad barbers and meat pie makers, to a baker and his wife, we suspend reality and let our imagination guide us into a world where emotions and situations are expressed in the only way possible: through unexpected song.




That's all :)

Friday the 20th.

I don't want to work today, the shift starts at 4 and I'm supposed to get off at 9 but I have this horrible feeling that they will make me say later and close. Terrible!

So I have been writing, for fun, a musical version of The Devil Wears Prada. I don't care who has the rights (I sent letters to Weisberger and both her agents inquiring), I'm just over here doing it like it's my job. And in doing it, I've discovered that for certain roles, there are specific voices I have in mind. It's interesting...a lot of things I write I never have a person in mind for it, but so far all of the material for Miranda Priestly has been tailor-made for this girl from my school. Now I don't think she likes me that much, 'cause I made a really rude comment to her before I knew her, but honestly if I can get her to do this song for me my life will be somewhat closer to completion. The weird part is that I didn't even realize I was writing it FOR her voice until a few nights ago. For privacy purposes, we'll call her "Melisande." Now Melisande was a fierce Pennywise last semester. She's a voice student of Kristin Chenoweth and Kelli O'Hara's teacher. She knows what's up. And here's a link of her singing the gorgeous "Kissing You" from the R+J film:




Wasn't that awesome?
I'm going to go get ready for work, then grab an early dinner and go.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

New Blog

I just signed up for this blog after finding my old xanga. I just will use it to talk about things. Political crap, maybe..usually just to talk about musicals though. Who knows, I'll just write what I feel like. For now, I'll leave you with these random thoughts:

Beer + Cheese = Yum.
The Tonys were good.
The people I was with were not.
I like my job so far.

-Benji