The Day the Skies Grew Empty

On the second weekend September of 2001, a community theater organization I was part of, Pocono Lively Arts, held auditions for a planned November production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music. In a chapter in my book More Fog, Please: 31 Years Directing Community and High School Musicals I wrote the following:

 We had callbacks for the production on Monday night, September 10. I was on the phone the next morning talking to a voice teacher about Anastasia Dietze, a young woman we were seriously considering for Maria, when my phone call was interrupted. It was my friend Judy Lawler. “A plane just hit the World Trade Center,” she told me. I told her I would call her back. Then the nightmare unfolded.

My son Stephen, who had been my lighting director for a number of years, was living and working in Westchester County, New York. I had no reason to think he might have been in Manhattan but I was not able to reach him by phone for many hours. Hearing from him, finally, that night, was a huge relief. I could hear the stress and anguish in his voice; New York had become his city.

(NOTE: It was during that phone call that Steve called my attention to the empty skies. I live below a major flyway; walking out onto my deck, I looked upward and saw only stars.)

One cast member’s father worked in one of the Twin Towers. His dad was late leaving for work that morning because he had to take David Wertz’s little brother to school. When the first plane hit, if he had not been late, he would have been at his desk instead of on the George Washington Bridge headed into Manhattan. He was able to turn around and was home by six o’clock. The family hadn’t heard from him all day and didn’t know where he was, or if he was safe.

Another high school student, Meghan Lastra, had a cousin who had just begun work at the World Trade Center; in fact, it was his first day. He was missing during our rehearsal period. We learned he had been uneasy about working there. His remains were finally recovered. We grieved with her family. Many people in our community lost loved ones that dreadful day.

Stroudsburg is within commuting distance of the New York City area; many residents work in and near the city. Children were kept overnight at several schools in the county, thanks to the generosity and kindness of many people who provided bedding, food, and comfort. Some parents never returned home. It was a very sad, tense time.

PLA members wondered what we should do about the show. Should we continue? My director’s note for this production of The Sound of Music reflects the feelings we all experienced:

 On September 11, we were making final casting decisions for this production. We had just spent an inspiring weekend hearing some one hundred fifty adults and children who were willing to share their time and talent in order to help present this show to the community. Then that Tuesday morning, as so many did, we wondered if this undertaking was meaningful at all in the harsh new world in which we all found ourselves.

The answer, of course, is yes. Without beauty, without music and art, civilization would indeed be totally changed. That all of us want to continue to create and re-create reinforces our very reason for being. Over the past weeks, all of us involved with this production have found a renewed appreciation for this story of love and courage. The story of Captain von Trapp and his family seems especially timely today, and I think, particularly for the children in the cast, our participation has given us a truly worthwhile experience.

As always, we are very grateful to the small army of volunteers who make this production possible – the remarkable people who work backstage, the musicians in the orchestra, the people who usher and help with tickets. Thanks to all of them, we can offer you an afternoon or evening of reliving this lovely American tradition, musical theater, by two of the finest of its creators, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. Community productions such as ours are a part of the very essence of this great country.

Many thanks to you, our loyal audience, for helping us to celebrate America in this special way.

Susan Jordan

September 11, 2001

  

Two Things That Make a Difference

Passion and Humor

Recently, a young writer who has become a Facebook friend sent me an article about centenarians and to what they attributed their longevity. It was entertaining to read contradictory advice, such as: exercise faithfully; never exercise. Eat healthy, eat what you like. But as I stare seventy-eight in the face,  two of the items struck me that ring true: 1) find something you are passionate about and pursue it and 2) don’t stop laughing, especially at yourself.

I know I’m blessed with better health than many of my contemporaries, and I am thankful for that. However, I have to admit over the past couple of years I’ve been slowing down despite my best efforts. Being passionate about something has been the story of my life … first ballet, then opera, then musical theater. All of these require strength and agility. You'd be surprised how much energy it takes to direct a musical!

It makes me happier than I can say to have found this new passion for writing. In some ways, it is the most satisfying experience I’ve ever had – I’m creating, for the first time in my life. For me, it is a perfect time to have discovered how much I love to write. I have the time to devote to it. I’m lucky to have nimble fingers and an active mind and an overactive imagination!

I had lunch recently with a fellow writer and new friend who is a few years younger than I am. We spent over two hours talking about writing, and when we parted she made the comment: “You know, we’re really the same as we’ve always been, at least inside.” And she is right. Having a passion in your life keeps you young. You continue to look at life with wonder. You continue to learn and grow. You see possibilities and paths to pursue. (Notice what I did there? Who says alliteration is always bad?!)

We read often, “laughter is good for the soul,” and I agree completely. I think we grow up the first time we are able to laugh at ourselves: when we can look at ourselves honestly, and realize who we really are and accept and love that person, foibles and all. It’s vital to being able to deal with the passage of time. We have no control over that, but we can control how we look at the inevitability of growing older.

I have three longtime friends with whom I meet regularly for lunch. We’ve shared a great deal over many years, and our meals together are filled with laughter. I value these women; they are people to be treasured. We share a history … not just of things we have done together, but from watching the world around us change.

Here's some advice from this not yet centenarian: pursue your passion. Laugh a lot, especially at yourself. And listen to beautiful music whenever you have a chance … it is the best the universe offers us.

Now excuse me, because I have this book I’m working on and an inspiration just struck me …

The author in earlier times.

Please visit my website: www.susanmoorejordan.com

"Cinderella" Times Three

The book-in-progress has a name! Drum roll:

“MORE FOG, PLEASE!”

Thirty-one Years Directing Community and High School Musicals

Thanks to my copy editor, Ashleigh Evans, for the great suggestion. When you read the book you’ll see how well the title fits. Here’s a hint in a condensation of the chapter on three productions of Cinderella. There’s much more in this chapter, but this is a taste of the “flavor” of the book – memories that are exciting, funny, and poignant. Many names are being named! Stay tuned.

Cinderella (1, 2, 3)

(1984, 1993, 1999)

     The idea of fairies as tiny creatures with gauzy wings is a recent one. In the ancient myths and legends, and until modern times, fairies were powerful, immortal beings of human size. “Fairy tales” such as Cinderella were stories in which these remarkable creatures and their magical powers played an important part.

     When Cinderella says to her Godmother: “I wish you believed that once in a while something marvelous and magical could happen,” and the Godmother replies, “I don’t say that I don’t believe that once in a while something marvelous and magical can’t happen,” they speak for all of us. The child in everyone can’t help but believe that sometimes, wishes really do come true, and “marvelous and magical” things can happen.

     Whatever it is that brings us all together for these performances has its own magic. You, the audience, are a vital part of this: without you, these performances would be little more than rehearsals. You are part of what makes each performance unique, and so you are part of that wonderful, fleeting experience, live theater.

     So enjoy the show – and help us bring the fairy tale magically to life!

Susan Jordan

Pocono Lively Arts (Stroudsburg High School)

December, 1984

     The note is from the first of three productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella presented by Pocono Lively Arts, each time at Stroudsburg High School. PLA, as we referred to our organization, was established in 1977 as a presenting organization for a series of musical and dance events. In 1979 we presented our first musical theater production as an addition to the regular series. The musical was quite successful and prompted us to continue to offer the community the opportunity to both participate in and attend a “family friendly” holiday show.

     This first Cinderella was the first time we ventured into the maze of leasing a show from a major rental house, and having to come up with money to pay for the royalties and rental fees for a show. (These must be paid in advance, at least by an amateur organization.) Until that time we had performed musicals we procured from a music publishing house, or a show that was in the public domain. But our shows continued to meet with success, and more and more people came for auditions. And more people volunteered their services for the myriad requirements of a stage musical, from playing an instrument in the pit orchestra to helping with costumes and makeup to building the set to ushering for a performance.

     The Sunday before show weekend the local newspaper (Pocono Record) featured us in the special entertainment section, “Passport,” including the cover and a number of photos on a two-page spread. The Friday the show opened, they gave us another large article with photos; and finally, a review of the production.  Our PLA productions were major community events. The population of Monroe County was less than 75,000 at that time; it is nearly twice that today.

     One of my favorite pictures in that Friday article shows Cinderella with her contingent of mice, four adorable children dressed in furry white body suits including hoods with mouse ears, their whiskers clearly visible. I added the mice; Rodgers and Hammerstein didn’t include them in the script for their made-for-television musical. I also added horses to pull the carriage ─ and a Children’s Chorus to follow the Herald around as he announced the forthcoming ball for the Prince, and later when he was trying to find the owner of the lost slipper.

     The audiences loved, loved, loved the mice! For years afterwards when PLA’s Cinderella came up in conversation, someone was sure to comment how much they had loved the mice. Disney got it right. When our Cinderella sang “In My Own Little Corner,” the mice came out of hiding to commiserate with her. Exclamations from the audience were audible. Our mice were really cute.

     One of the reasons we began performing holiday shows was to give children an opportunity to be on stage. I remembered how much I had loved performing in The Emperor’s New Clothes as an eighth grade student in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, and wanted “our” kids to have that kind of experience. We included as many children in our productions as we possibly could. It always broke my heart that it was impossible to include every child who auditioned. The kids in the shows had the time of their lives. Many youngsters did the show every year beginning at the age of eight, often continuing through their high school years.

     The biggest challenge with the show was Cinderella’s transformation from household drudge to beautiful princess … in ninety seconds. Lighting is a great help. I love stage fog. A lot of fog works wonders. The mice and rats danced offstage, and the characters playing the necessary accoutrements  ─ horses, footman, coachman ─ danced on. The coach was challenging but great fun for our set designers, and beautiful to behold. An army backstage took off Cindy’s rags and replaced them with a beautiful gown, swept up her hair, added jewels and shoes and … presto! There she was, pulled from the fog and brought downstage by her Godmother. The audience applauded this transformation at every performance. The imaginative and exciting music that accompanied this magical feat was also a great help. Stage magic is great fun to make – when it works. I always held my breath, but it worked unfailingly for us.

Cinderella is a happy show. The wedding is a lump-in-your-throat, if not a tears-in-your-eyes moment for everyone.

    I earlier mentioned the four little mice whose picture was in the newspaper in costume in our first Cinderella production in 1984. Three of them – Andrew Kowalyshyn, Chris Bond, and Marjorie Lawler ─ were still around for Cinderella #2 in 1993, and Chris and Marjorie performed in the show. Andrew had become a very fine sound technician, even as a high school student, and was running sound for the show – more about Andrew later in the book. See Song of Norway for a moment I will never forget.

     The fourth mouse, Donna Schweinberg, had grown into a lovely young woman, and was also to be in the production. Tragically, Donna was killed in an automobile accident shortly after the cast was announced. Everyone involved with the show, and all of the members of PLA, chose to dedicate the production to Donna’s memory, and these comments were included in my director’s note for that production:

     When we presented Cinderella in 1984, there was a sweet little mouse on stage named Donna Schweinberg. This year, Donna’s senior year at Stroudsburg High School, we had hoped she would once again join us. As sometimes happens, fate decreed otherwise and Donna’s young life was sadly ended just before we began rehearsals. The cast and production staff of Cinderella, and the Board of Directors of Pocono Lively Arts would like to dedicate this production to Donna and her family, in memory of that sweet mouse who had grown to become an exceptional young woman, much loved by her family and friends.

     Cinderella is a happy story, the kind we love to experience again and again. We all feel that Donna and other members of the 1984 cast who have gone on (Mary Jane Snyder, Hilda Vanderslice) would like being remembered in this special way, at this special, magical time of the year.

My memories of our three productions of Cinderella will always remain special and magical.

 Cinderella 1993

Judy Lawler, Kelly Foley, Paula Rivera

Photo by Rose Karlson

An Unplanned Trilogy

AN UNPLANNED TRILOGY

As it happens – a very useful phrase for a writer, by the way – the three novels I have written/am writing are actually a trilogy, something I had neither expected nor planned.

How I Grew Up, my first novel, was based on an actual incident from my high school years, many decades ago. A close friend went through an unimaginable family tragedy: her estranged brother-in-law shot and killed both her parents, and mortally wounded her other brother-in-law. These things happened the weekend before Anita (she became “Melanie Stewart” in the book) was to audition for our spring musical, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel. Auditions for the show were delayed for a week, and “Melanie” was cast in the leading role of Julie Jordan. How her participation in the production helped her to work through her terrible shock and grief and deliver an inspiring performance is the essence of the novel. Though it is based on this event, the book is fiction, as are the characters.

One of those characters became a protagonist in my second book, Eli’s Heart. Melanie’s close friend Krissy Porter met a young pianist only a few months before the Carousel production took place. They became good friends, and might have been more but for the interference of Eli’s family. Krissy recounted that experience to Melanie in a chapter of How I Grew Up. When Eli’s Heart begins, Krissy is in college, and she and Eli manage to reconnect and eventually marry. The courage with which they deal with his congenital heart condition, the strong love they share, and the importance of music in their lives are the story told in this book.

Now I am working on a third book that again begins with that Carousel production. Working title You Are My Song, this is Jamie Logan’s story. Jamie played opposite Melanie in the show and they were drawn to each other, partly because of their friendship and Jamie’s sympathy for Melanie’s tragedy, partly because of the characters they were portraying. Jamie is a gifted singer, a tenor, who marries his childhood sweetheart and learns fairly quickly this marriage was a mistake. Five years after graduating from high school Jamie, now divorced, begins serious study as a vocal performance major in the music department of a state university. He wants to sing opera, a very difficult path for even the most talented and determined singer.

So I have a trilogy, unplanned and unexpected. The common thread is that all of these characters were part of that high school Carousel production. I will need some guidance at some point as to how to market what were three separate novels as a trilogy. Jamie’s story is proving to be a joy to write, as I revisit the world of music school and the world of opera.

Memory recall is fascinating. One memory opens up doors into other memories, some wonderful, some distressing, some very humorous. I walked this path with my tenor husband (who is NOT Jamie Logan, though some of Jamie’s experiences are based on those I have recalled) for several years. Opera is similar to musical theater, but there are definitely differences. Opera is a form of musical art, and in its truest – not necessarily purest – form it is a combination of extraordinarily wonderful music and great theater. Incidents can happen in an opera company that I don’t believe happen anywhere else. With many people, opera is an acquired taste. Jamie has the same experience I had: hearing the beauty of the music and the amazing ability of the singers to produce the sounds required by the art form, Jamie instantly fell in love with it, as I did at the age of thirteen.

I don’t want to project a publication date for my third book, because “there is no opening night” for a novelist (I’ve quoted my wise and extremely helpful friend Eric Mark before, but it’s something I always need to keep in mind. I’ve had many, many opening nights for musical theater productions!). I hope to have it in print within a few months, but I hope to make it my best effort to date, so I won’t release it until it’s ready. In the meantime – if you haven’t read How I Grew Up AND Eli’s Heart – you can purchase them on Amazon, paperback or Kindle. We authors who self-publish start to get very good at Shameless Self-Promotion!

"How's the house?" and "How is your book selling?"

The Wonderful World of Writing … from the Director’s Point of View

Directing a musical theater production has its constraints. There’s a definite time frame, and you have only so many weeks to select the show, cast the show, rehearse the show and then give it to the cast to perform for a limited time. For high school and community productions, generally that is one weekend, and over those two or three performances the audience sees the results of all your hard work. My sense is if I have done my job, nobody really cares who directed the show; they see words and music come to life on the stage through the actors and musicians who live a story and share it with everyone in the theater.

Of course, we hope there is an audience. The bigger the better! Actors love what they do, but they also love to hear the laughter, applause, and yes, the intense moments of silence when the audience is moved. So one question we all ask the box office personnel: “How’s the house?” Meaning are there going to be people in the seats to enjoy and appreciate this production? Of course, there have been expenses connected with putting this show up, and good houses also mean we can continue this venture and begin work on another show.

One of the first things I do as director is prepare a rehearsal schedule and attempt to make sure there is ample time provided within that schedule for adequate rehearsal of each and every scene, each and every musical number. Not just to learn them, but to polish them. To make what the audience sees looks fresh and new because the cast knows what they are doing so well the people watching aren't aware of miscues. We all know it won’t be perfect (I had a friend quote a mentor who told her “perfection is for the gods”), but we try to make it as nearly perfect as we can. Once the weekend is over, what are left are wonderful memories. We may direct or act in this show again in the future, but it will never be the same, because the people who are part of it are different.

When I wrote my first novel, How I Grew Up, my good friend Eric Mark who read and copy edited it kept reminding me “there is no opening night.” As a director I was accustomed to the time constraints of the rehearsal period. I have had to learn those time constraints do not exist for a writer. Eric is right; there is no opening night. The book is finished when it is complete.

I loved the 1965 film The Agony and the Ecstasy about Michelangelo painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Pope Julius II (Rex Harrison), in an increasing state of high dudgeon, kept asking Michelangelo (Charlton Heston) “When will you make an end?!” to which the artist calmly but firmly replied, “When I am finished.” I’ve learned it’s sometimes difficult to tell when that is, but at some point, the writer believes the story has been told as well as it can be told. For How I Grew Up, that happened after some four months.

I have written a second novel, Eli’s Heart, which was released recently. It took me considerably longer to write this book. It covered a longer period of time. It required more research. I did a good deal of rewriting. I wrote four different endings. This book took over nine months. I wanted to finish it. I wanted to get it “out there.” Eric wisely cautioned me again not to be too hasty. He was right, the extra six weeks or so I spent on the book undoubtedly improved it.

My theater friends know I have just released Eli’s Heart, and some of them say to me, “How's your book selling?” My response is “there’ve been some purchases.” There’s no opening night. There’s also no closing night; Eli’s Heart as well as How I Grew Up will be available for a long time for my audience – my readers – to decide to look at my work. And they don’t have to read it in two or three hours, the length of time the audience spends watching a show. My readers can spend weeks, even months, reading one of my books.

It is a thrill when I hear from a friend or acquaintance that they have read and enjoyed my work. I think these stories are good stories, and I tried to tell them as best I possibly could. I’ve had some modest success with How I Grew Up, and hope more people will buy it and read it. There have been some purchases of Eli’s Heart as well. As an independent, self-published author, I have to market my books. I have no publicist, nor do I have the money to do this aggressively. Word of mouth, social media, book signings are my primary means of getting the word out.

But at my stage of “advanced youth” I have no illusions about becoming a best-selling author. I started writing because I had a story I wanted to tell. I continue to write because more stories have come into my mind. I write because I find it immensely satisfying. I self-publish because it is a thrill to hold the book I have written in my hand. It’s my work, it’s the creative part of me finding an outlet after a lifetime of re-creating music and musical theater. Music is my passion, so I write about music and how strongly it can influence people’s lives. "Writing is its own reward" is a profound truth.

So to the question “how's your book selling?” the answer is: people are finding their way to my books. I hope more people find their way to my books; I believe they are worth reading. And there’s no closing night.