Behind the Scenes from David, in his own words
There are a lot of experiences in a career in the theatre that never see the light of day.
Songs are written, rehearsed, and discarded.
Whole shows can do the same.
With both the failures and the successes, come moments, most of them not as flashy or seemingly significant as the final onstage result. But they make up a life, and they’re worth remembering, cherishing, and recounting, for whatever they may be worth, as example, warning, or inspiration.
Here are a few of them.
“Berry Gordy and I put our heads together, 2011 (Motown the Musical).”
This is my favorite photo of me and Berry, whom I never called “Berry.” He was either “Chairman,” “Mr. Gordy,” or eventually, “Boss.” …Continue reading
“And get yourself a writing partner like this.”
I’ve been blessed to work with a long list of great collaborators. Some, but only a few, are listed here. First among favorites is John Kavanaugh. ...Continue reading
(Pictured): Me, Wendy & John at the Ovation Awards, 2011.
“I asked for one thing. I got so much more.”
“I just want one thing,” I said to my LA agent at the time: “A production of Having It Almost in a major theatre in town.” Two weeks later, I was sitting at the Daily Grill on Ventura Boulevard with David Elzer. ...Continue reading
(Pictured): Me with Richard Israel, one of the three times we’ve worked together. Obviously, it’s always torture, we don’t get along at all, and I constantly wonder why he can’t be more like his successful brother Steve.
“Expectant Fathers: Shuki and David at West End first orchestra rehearsal, 2008.”
For any musical, the best day of rehearsal, at least for me, is the Sitzprobe. A strangely suggestive German word which means, literally, “to sit and probe,” it’s the day the cast and the orchestra meet for the first time and sing through the score. ...Continue reading
“
I love your show, but I feel it should be completely changed.”
With those words from Moshe Kepten, Artistic Director of the National Theatre of Israel in Tel Aviv, I set to work on the show that would become Masada 1942. ...Continue reading
“Good Man, Studio H.”
Take no moment for granted. This, right now, is as good as it gets, or needs to be. (I am in Studio H at Ripley-Grier Studios in midtown for my third or fourth workshop of this musical for which I wrote the book, music and lyrics.) Savor it. Appreciate the gift you’ve been given. Take a picture.
“Two Men, three jobs.”
Oscar Goodman, the legendary Las Vegas mob attorney turned three-term Mayor, was someone you should definitely not like. But someone impossible not to love. ...Continue reading
“Dick and I in front of our names.”
By December of 2012, it had been 18 months of my work on the book (and some lyrics) for Motown, and my influence on Mr. Gordy had peaked months before. The mission to get us across the finish line to Broadway, four months hence, was at a critical juncture. ...Continue reading
“Diane Paulus flanked by her Rabbis, backstage at 2nd Stage, opening night, Invisible Thread.”
Musicals are said to be about many things. They’re about transitions, is one of my favorites. They’re about the music (of course), about the lyrics (when they’re good, which is rare) or about the story (every time). ...Continue reading
“Dmitry & Me.”
Surround yourself with geniuses. I make it a rule. Or try to. ...Continue reading
“Fat Mike, Me & Soma Snakeoil. Mike, his middle finger placed surreptitiously on my shoulder. Very much on brand.”
“I don’t know how I can help you. As I experience your show, I just want it to be over. I find it aggressively unpleasant, gratingly vulgar, and largely amateurishly written.” ...Continue reading
“I’m writing a lyric with Jeff Marx.”
One vexing moment (among many) got assigned to me and Jeff to fix late one night as we rushed toward the opening of a very public and high-profile workshop was a pivotal love/confrontation song between two of the female leads. After rehearsal, we went back to my apartment at 50th & 8th Avenue and got to work, rewriting a pivotal song in act two. Line by line, the shorthand between Jeff and me as to character, story, craft, rhyme, meter, prosody… all in sync, as if we had been doing this together for years. At some point I had to pinch myself: “I’m writing a lyric with Jeff Marx.” At about 4am… we sent it off.
The next day, we went to Mike, who, as primary author, had the final approval. With a cosmetic tweak or two, the song went in that day. The song worked. I will always cherish the memory of that long night, and how gratifying it was to hear the results performed (expertly, by Emma and Ariana) in front of an audience.
(Pictured): Me, Jeff and Soma at the O’Neill. The apex.
“The Great Lindsey Alley.”
When you do a show with someone, they tend to become family. When they’re as brilliantly funny, talented and unique as Lindsey Alley, they become a muse. (She created one of the five women in Having It All -- Best Actress nominee, Ovation Awards, btw.)
The family part means, when you call me for something -- to write some specialty material for your act, for example -- I’m there. The muse part means, you get me and what I’m doing, you hear my voice on the page, and you bring my words to life the instant they fly from your mouth. It’s my inspiration to write for you. So when Lindsey Alley calls me to bug me about the next piece of specialty material she needs… the gift is mine. Plus she’s a forever friend.
The next time you have the chance to see her do her thing -- go.
“My wife with her mentor, Hal Prince.”
The other thing you should do is marry someone you admire. I was Bryonha Marie Parham’s fan before we were friends. Everything about her was intimidating -- her beauty, her talent, the silent h’s in her name. Love, thankfully, conquered all. ...Continue reading
Thank you to my brilliant and beautiful daughter Madeleine Dara Goldsmith, for putting up with my insane perfectionism to design and build this website. I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.
