TTOF: A Mini-Manifesto on Letter-Only Words

My latest post on “Thinking Through Our Fingers,” a blog on writing:

Because words are tools. As a writer, I refuse to give up any tool for the sake of political correctness. As a writer, I reserve the right to use the R-word. I also reserve the right to use the N-word, the F-word, the G-word, the Q-word, and every other tool at my disposal. In real life, people are hateful, mean, racist, stupid, behind the times, every possible kind of -phobic, and sometimes just thoughtless. They reveal their best and worst character in their speech, in their thoughts, and in their authentic voice.

Read it here.

Casting Complications

Please note that the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own, and do not represent the views of my spouse, my children, my employer, my religious faith, or any one else someone might wish to complain about or to. The views are entirely mine. My own. My … precious.

When I first posted this commentary on casting, all hell broke loose. Before I say anything further, let me restate my initial point:

The crucial consideration in casting musicals is fitting the best available voice to each part.

This axiom especially applies with lead roles. I stand by this assertion, and I’m adding this epilogue to underscore that assertion.

Almost as soon as I published the post, I began receiving comments—some never published, others since removed—that speculated on specific examples I used to illustrate my point. The first comment was an off-the-handle reaction from a student at our local high school. The comment began:

“This is not okay, in my opinion. Particularly the last section….”

Based on the rambling comment, it was clear the person leaving it had jumped to a whole bunch of conclusions based on very little evidence. Here’s more:

“You all need to respect who was chosen for the parts, and, though it’s okay to be hurt, it is not okay to hate on and disrespect our cast and entire show. And I sincerely hope that your teenagers do not act the way you do when you get a part you don’t want (a ‘non-singing’ role, as you say.). I hope they don’t learn to be ungrateful and rude and turn down parts for petty reasons like, ‘it was a non-singing’ or ‘estenially [sic] an ensemble part.'”

First of all, nothing in the original post was critical of the actors actually being cast (or mis-cast) in roles. Anyone who’s ever done theater knows that it’s a crap shoot every time you audition for something. Like Forrest Gump’s chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. But whether an actor is perfect for a specific role or just completely wrong in every way, that’s never a reflection on the actor. It’s a reflection on the person (or people) doing the casting.

Nobody blames Russell Crowe for making corned beef hash out of the role of Javert. He obviously did the best he could with his meager musical talents. Instead, we blame Tom Hooper (who directed the movie version of Les Misérables) and Nina Gold (credited for casting the show) and assorted producers for giving Crowe the role in the first place.

Believe it or not, this even happens on Broadway! My wife and I witnessed a casting disaster several years ago when we saw the Elton John/Tim Rice musical Aida on the Great White Way. Overall the actor-role fit was excellent (if somewhat racially motivated)—with a single exception. Someone had decided it would be a great idea to place aging Monkee Mickey Dolenz in the role of Zozer, father of Radames. Vocally, he was the weakest link in the cast. An unknown actor with an actual singing voice would have been far superior to a rock ‘n’ roll has-been.

Second of all, I had to chuckle at the tone this teenager takes with regard to what I “need to respect” and what I don’t. Leave it to a member of today’s “participation trophy generation” to instruct an adult about what he should and shouldn’t post on a personal blog. Does the school need to teach a refresher course in fundamental rights, perhaps? Maybe lessons in manners? Do a few in this rising generation need someone to explain that respect is earned … and not demanded?

Here’s my public response to the comment:

I mentioned no names or even names of specific shows in here. There is no hate in here, just a discussion of general principles. I have theater friends all around the country, and was curious to know whether I was alone in my belief that singing should be the primary factor in casting a musical. I take it you disagree with that, but I’m sure there are plenty who agree.

We saw a high school show in the Salt Lake area a few years ago that had this exact problem. One of the female leads was an amazing dancer and fine actor, but literally couldn’t sing a note. Her voice cracked and she was a quarter step flat during the entire show. You could hear an audible groan in the audience every time she opened her mouth. It was an extreme example, but one that is repeated again and again on junior high and high school stages around the country.

Speaking in general, casting someone who can’t hit the notes required for a particular part, who can’t even hear the key the song is in, is a disservice to the audience. So is casting based on who “needs” a role more. If a person can’t be found who can perform a particular role satisfactorily, then maybe the director has chosen the wrong show for the group. If better singers are passed over in favor of more popular or attractive kids (or whatever) who can’t sing as well, I see that as a problem. There is plenty of opportunity to learn and grow in a theater program. For those who have more room to learn and grow, much of that learning and growing should happen in class or workshops and not in front of an audience.

Again, I’m speaking in generalities, but theater is a giant time commitment. When I or anyone else auditions for a part, there is no guarantee that I or anyone else will get the part we wanted. We can accept the part we’re offered or we can say “Thanks, but no thanks.” Directors expect this. In fact, most put a checkbox on the audition sheet that asks, “Would you accept any part offered?” There’s no obligation to check “Yes.”

Regardless of who gets cast in a particular role, volunteer work is exactly that: volunteer. If I don’t believe a show is worth the investment of my evenings and weekends, I’m under no obligation to do it.

I should also point out that it’s not necessarily about the best voice, but about the best voice for the role. Casting an amazing alto in a part that requires a soprano range, or an amazing tenor in a part that requires low bass notes, would also be a problem. The alto may have a beautiful voice, but if she can’t hit the high soprano notes she’s not the best fit for the part.

I know that, in both school and community theater productions, it’s common to change the gender of a role (usually to allow a female actor to play a part written for a male). This sometimes works just fine, but if the female actor’s voice doesn’t fit the part as written—requiring her to jump up and down in the octaves—this can get very distracting for audiences.

The next comment was posted by the parent of an actor. Just like the student, this parent made some big assumptions and reacted to those misconceptions rather than reacting to my actual post:

“Although I see your point in some of what you have to say, you have in my opinion so inappropriately slandered many in your community.  Even though you ‘mention no names or even names of specific shows.'”

Whoa. Sensitive much?

First of all, to slander is “making a false spoken statement damaging to a person’s reputation.” I think the parent actually meant to falsely accuse me of libel, which is “a published false statement that is damaging to a person’s reputation; a written defamation.” Regardless, the accusation is utterly groundless. What specific person or persons did I slander or libel? Which example matches which show?

According to someone who actually knows the rules regarding slander and libel:

“To be successful in a defamation claim, you must show that the defamatory comment in question was unambiguous about both its meaning and the individual who was the target of the comment. In addition, truth is always a defense to a defamation claim.”

I actually went out of my way to obscure the identities of actors and the specifics of particular productions in my examples—in some cases changing details to protect those who might have delicate lilac-scented feelings. Collectively, the members of my family have been in several dozen shows, and very few of them have been in this particular community. To say I committed slander or libel is ridiculous. It wouldn’t hold up in court, and it doesn’t work in the court of public opinion either.

The comment continued:

“High School and Community Theater [sic] should be open to those who are working on developing talent. Allow growth to all Youth [sic], not just the ones who already have fully developed talent. That is what SCHOOL is all about. High School Musicals [sic] and plays are not professional productions.”

Aye, there’s the rub. This is the very mindset that all theater people need to fight against. The idea that high school and community theater should have different standards than professional theater groups is ludicrous. Sure, the budgets are different, and the actors in pro shows are paid. But the basic principles should be the same. To reiterate: when it comes to musical theater, the quality of the actor’s singing voice should be the primary consideration when casting lead singing roles. Minor roles and the chorus or ensemble are the correct place for those who are “working on developing talent.”

I replied to this parent in private and in great detail, but the parent didn’t bother to respond. I think part of my public response  is extremely relevant:

I wonder if people would say the same thing regarding high school athletics? Say you have a drama kid who decides to go out (audition?) for football. Somehow he makes the team. He’s never played football before, and he doesn’t even really know the rules, but he loves playing and spends the season learning the game and developing his skills. He has a lot of heart, but not a whole lot of natural talent. Even if the kid is super-popular or from an influential family, it’s pretty likely that this student won’t get nearly as much playing time as more talented, more experienced athletes.

Now imagine: how do you think the spectators would react if the coach benches his star quarterback and subs in the newbie during the fourth quarter of the championship game? Let’s say the kid has had limited playing time on special teams, but has never taken a snap in his life. Would it be appropriate to allow this kid to “develop his talent” during a critical game? This isn’t professional football, after all. It’s SCHOOL football. Shouldn’t ALL players have the same opportunities that the star quarterback and running backs have?

If a high school football coach did something like that, the spectators would boo him off the field. They would complain to the administration, loudly and in public. Yet somehow, when a high school drama teacher does the same thing, it’s mean and unfair to point it out.

Coaches are expected to play the best athletes they have–especially during important games and clutch plays. And they don’t play someone in a position that doesn’t make sense. What coach in his right mind would sub in a talented but undersized kicker to play on the defensive line? Nobody would do that.

Why should the performing arts be any different? Why are directors so willing to place actors into roles that are outside of their physical abilities? It does a disservice to the audience, as well as to the other actors.

The final bit of feedback I received came via email from a high school principal. Now, why a high school principal would feel the need to respond to a post on my personal blog is beyond me. You’d think a school administrator would have lots of more pressing issues to deal with. However, he voiced his concern that I was “railing on the students” who had been cast in a particular show, even though I hadn’t (of course) mentioned any specific students or specific shows. After I explained my position in detail, he wrote:

“Thanks for sharing the comments from your blog. The only one that concerns me or is relevant to the school is the comment from the student. Regardless of how many readers do not know that you are referencing [a specific show], the readers that do and connect the blog to your children and our students are a concern.

“The students, and parents, that read the blog and perceive that you are referencing them are my concern. Perception is their reality, particularly in the world of a high school student.”

He was referring, of course, to the comment from Little Miss Entitlement, excerpted above. My response to the principal, in brief:

Sadly, I have no control over the perceptions of others.

This whole episode is baffling to me. My goal in writing the original piece was to call attention to the curious phenomenon whereby directors (or casting committees) put other factors above vocal quality in making casting decisions for musicals. The whole show suffers—that’s obvious. Even worse, I’ve seen directors try to make up for their bad casting decisions by cutting out songs or sections of songs that turned out to be (surprise! surprise!) way out of the range of the actors they’ve miscast in various roles.

This isn’t just a terrible cop-out (not to mention an admission of poor casting decisions). It’s also a breach of contract and a violation of copyright. This is no joke. Note the following, from MTI’s performance license:

When you are granted a performance license, by law the show you license must be performed “as is.” You have no right to make any changes at all unless you have obtained prior written permission from us to do so. Otherwise, any changes violate the authors’ rights under federal copyright law. Without prior permission from MTI, your actions may subject you to liability – not only to the authors, but also to us – for breaching the terms of your license agreement, which clearly forbids you to make any changes or deletions.

So if a director in a high school or community theater program decides to alter a show to account for his or her bad choices, that decision can actually lead to the director, the program or the school being sued by Music Theatre International and/or by the author of the show. An even more likely outcome would be that MTI or some other licensing company might decline to license the next show at the school or theater.

Again … casting has consequences.

I have to emphasize again that the blame is not on the actor, but entirely on the person directing the show. If a director has more female than male actors, for example, and casts a girl in a role written for a boy, nobody blames the girl if she can’t (a) sing the notes in the written register, or (b) sing them up an octave. The only possible ways to deal with this curious result of bad casting would be to (1) transpose the entire song, including all vocal and orchestra parts, (2) assign someone else to sing part or all of the song, (3) cut all or parts of the song, or (4) force the actor to sing out of register. Options 1, 2 and 3 are all license/copyright violations. And option 4 is audience (and actor) abuse.

The blame falls squarely on the shoulders of the director who refused to consider vocal range and quality when casting the show.

So let’s recap. What exactly happens when directors commit this casting offense?

  • The audience suffers. Listening to someone sing outside his or her range can be painful—not to mention awkward, uncomfortable and depressing.
  • The cast suffers. When a lead part is poorly cast, everyone else still has to do their best, and often make accommodations for the leads who can’t cut it.
  • Ticket sales suffer. High school or community theater that consistently put on amazing shows draw huge crowds. The ones that put on shows with poorly cast leads … not so much.
  • The program suffers. If you’re a talented “triple threat” (singer/dancer/actor) and your local high school or community theater often puts on shows with obviously miscast leads, are you going to want to participate? No—you’ll find shows somewhere else that are worth your time.
  • The program is liable. When changes are made to a show and MTI finds out, who is responsible for the resulting sanctions or lawsuit? (And by the way, this is not theoretical.)

My high school alma mater is nationally known as a football powerhouse—so much so that it’s not unheard of for a family to move into the district from out of state specifically so their boys can play football for the program. The players get recruited by the big universities, and lots of players receive scholarship offers and all the rest. Many of them go on to the NFL. That’s the power of a strong program with good coaching.

The arts are no different. If a school has a great theater program, parents will move heaven and earth to get their kids into the program. On the other hand, if a school has a theater department with a teacher (or teachers) who tragically miscast show after show after show, is that school going to attract great singers and actors, or is it going to hemorrhage talent and get worse and worse as its program goes down the tubes?

Again … casting has consequences.

Casting Has Consequences

My wife and I have been involved in theater for much of our lives. We have directed shows, served as assistant and musical directors as well as stage managers. I’m actually a published, award-winning playwright (though that happened long ago). Both of us have theater degrees. Offstage, we’ve built sets, fabricated props, painted backdrops, sewn costumes, played in pit orchestras, and designed programs and publicity. It’s safe to say there’s not a job in theater that at least one of us hasn’t done.

I wanted to say something about casting, which is probably the most baffling aspect of theater: casting. Let me state right up front that this is my opinion. Others may have different thoughts. Feel free to present your own perspective in the comments below.

Primary Casting Considerations

Straight plays: When it comes to non-musical theater, a role should always go to the person who can most convincingly portray the character as envisioned by the director. Physical characteristics (whether the actor is male or female, tall or short, thin or fat, attractive or not) are often a consideration, but they usually shouldn’t be primary. The play’s the thing, as the Bard says, and casting should involve putting the best available actor to play the part.

Musicals: For musical theater, priority should almost always be given to the person with the most appropriate singing voice for the role. Especially for lead parts with a lot of solo singing, it’s critical that the actor’s vocal range, quality, and singing ability be matched to the part he or she will be playing. For certain roles, dancing ability could possibly edge out singing ability, but from that, though everything else—including looks and body type and so on—is secondary to the voice. Audiences attend musicals to hear the music, and nothing does more to spoil a musical than a substandard voice in a leading part.

(And yes, Russell Crowe, we’re all looking at you.)

School Productions

For school-sponsored shows, the people doing the casting have a few other things to think about. Is the student struggling academically? Is the student in sports or other activities that could conflict with rehearsals? How is the student’s attitude and work ethic? Has the student been flaky in the past, dropping out of or under-performing in other roles?

While these considerations can impact a director’s casting decisions, the primary ones—acting ability for straight plays and singing ability for musicals—should still receive the heaviest considerations.

Not everybody agrees with this. Last year Melanie co-directed a junior high school musical. Her co-director insisted on giving the biggest lead part to a kid who was (I’m allowed to say this because I’m not an educator) a total douchebag. “Giving so-and-so the lead would be good for him,” her co-director whined. “I just know he will rise to the occasion!” Other things being equal, Melanie believed in giving choice roles to students who earned them through hard work and positive behavior. The co-director overruled her, and the entire production (and the entire cast) suffered because of that decision.

SeussicalPanorama

More recently, one of our teenagers was cast in a role that was very much against type. At the same time, a major lead role was given to a person with an incredibly limited vocal range. During each show, we sat and cringed as this actor tried and mostly failed to hit the high notes required by the part. When we asked the director about her decision to match that actor to that role, she said, “He just really needed it.”

I’m sorry. Theater is about personal growth, but casting an inadequate singer in a lead role (whether the actor needs it or not) is simply audience abuse.

Community Theater Productions

AuditionPleaAnother special case is community theater. These are usually small, under-funded, under-staffed groups who do theater as a labor of love. The better groups often attract top talent, while other groups actually have to beg people to audition. Casting decisions sometimes actually come down to who is available and willing to put in the time. Also, since much of the offstage work is done by those involved in the production, offstage skills are likely to be a factor in casting decisions.

Community theater groups are notoriously cliquish. Many are run by a group of cronies who take turns either starring in or directing show after show after show. Once a group like this becomes entrenched, it can be nearly impossible for outsiders to get roles.

I’ve seen theater groups that cast essentially the same group of people in every show, sometimes out of necessity but often just because that’s what they do. It’s common practice for directors to cast spouses and friends and children, regardless of the availability of more talented actors.

Sometimes casting decisions come down to expediency. I’ve known groups to cast spouses in leads simply because they knew it would be a way to guarantee both would be at all rehearsals. I knew one group that always cast the same non-singer in a small role in every production … because he had his own power tools and was willing to construct sets. I once saw a director decide between two equally matched players because one of them had a pickup truck for hauling stuff.

Participation Points

With both community theater and school productions, finding people who are willing to do additional work is crucial. I can’t think of a single production I’ve been involved in that hasn’t involved extra volunteer work. In The Music Man, I helped with makeup and a few set pieces. For Shrek, The Musical, I painted the “Freak Flag.” For The King and I, I painted the two schoolroom maps, fabricated an easel to hold them, and also built a last-minute sailing ship. When my wife and kids are in productions, we always try to pitch in as well. I generally build sets and Melanie helps with costumes and props.

KingOldMap   KingNewMap

KingShip   ShrekFreakFlag

In our recent experience with Aladdin Jr., for which my wife was the musical director and all three of our kids had lead parts, I designed the set, designed and built the “royal box,” fabricated props (including swords and foam-rubber bread loaves). I did design and layout on the program (a 20-hour job) and built and sculpted the “Cave of Wonders” set piece (an 18-hour job). I did specialty makeup for dress rehearsals and all performances.

AladdinCaveOfWonders

We have helped with every single school production that any of our kids have ever been in. Should offstage participation have an impact on a director’s decision about who to pick for a particular role? I think the answer should probably be: sometimes.

Casting Consequences

A while ago, I auditioned for a second show with a new theater group. After callbacks, I discovered that—for only the second time in my musical theater career—I had been offered a non-singing role. (The first time was the first show with the same group … a trend I would prefer not to perpetuate.) After I turned down the role (which I considered a slap in the face), the assistant director said, “We’d still really like you to help with the sets.”

Um, no.

If I’m involved in a show with a community theater group, I’m happy to contribute wherever and whenever I can. But I don’t do musical theater to take non-singing roles. This particular show was chock full of great parts for “grownup male” singers. If you want me involved, make sure I’m involved. But don’t give the leads and even the secondary characters to all your friends and associates and then expect me to put in hours on your set.

Not too long ago, two of our children were being considered for major roles in a school musical. Since I’d pitched in on previous shows, the director asked me to take charge of a major scene-shop project—one that would require almost 100 hours to do right. The callback list suggested that both of my children were being considered for major roles. When the cast list came out, however, it turned out that both children were passed over in favor of actors who (in both my and my wife’s opinion) were just plain wrong for those parts.

Both of my kids were assigned to what were essentially “ensemble” roles—in spite of the fact that they had voices (and other talents) better suited for roles that were given to other actors. With just one exception (in my opinion and the opinion of my wife), every main lead in the show had been dreadfully miscast. And yet I was apparently still expected to dedicate my nights and weekends for the next three months to a show that can only turn out to be another round of audience abuse.

Um, no.

A helpful hint to both school and community theater groups: when you make casting decisions, you’re determining how successful (or unsuccessful) your production will be. If you cast your friends and family and favorites over more talented actors, you’d better be certain that they have the talent to carry the show. If you award parts based on who needs the part—regardless of who is the best possible choice—you shouldn’t be surprised when others lose faith in the productions you put on the stage.

Also, unless you have an unlimited supply of skillful volunteers, it’s probably best if you make sure that the people you cast (or their family members) are willing and able to put in the work so that all the critical pieces of the production fall in place in time for opening night.

And above all, please don’t abuse your audiences by staffing your lead roles with people who can’t sing. That’s a perfect way to ensure that fewer and fewer people buy tickets the next time around.

Rewriting Christmas Carols

Last Friday night, the kids and I (plus my mom and mother-in-law) went to hear my wife Melanie sing with the Sonoran Desert Chorale in their annual Christmas concert. One one hand, it was nice to hear an actual Christmas concert. There was no obligatory nod to Hannukah (not that this would have been a bad thing). There was also no attempt to evangelize Kwanzaa or Las Posadas or any other so-called “traditions” that 99 percent of the Christian world wouldn’t even know about if we without comprehensive brainwashing by public school indoctrinators regarding how important these non-events are in our communities of diversity.

That said, I was disappointed that they didn’t honor my own heritage with a Festvus song or two. How dare?

Anyway, one of the best parts about the SDC’s Christmas concerts are the sing-alongs they always have near the end. They print the lyrics in the program and everybody stands up and gets into the action. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I discovered that whoever put together the program had decided that certain Christmas carols were not quite politically correct enough for modern sensibilities.

The most eggregious changes were during “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Interesting historical note: the lyrics of this traditional carol were written by Charles Wesley (1707-1788), the brother of John Wesley, who founded the Methodist church. (That’s why they’re called Wesleyans, in case you’re curious.) The music, on the off-chance that you care, was written by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847).

The concert was held in Mesa’s First United Methodist Church, although I have a sneaking suspicion that this particular facility might not be the really actual honest-to-goodness first United Methodist Church. Anyway, I thought it was ironic that the lyrics written by the brother of Mr. Methodism had been changed for a performance in a Methodist house of worship.

Two altered lines in the program caught my eye:

Traditional: “born that man no more may die”
Rewritten: “born that we no more may die”

Traditional: “born to raise the sons of earth, born to give us second birth”
Rewritten: “born to raise us from the earth, born to give them second birth.”

I was ready for the changes because I had actually noticed them in the program during intermission. I was totally ready to conform to the weaselly changes (I know, I know), but then a wonderful thing happened. Almost everybody in the audience ignored the changes and just sang the traditional lyrics anyway. It was Whoville all over again, though I don’t know whether the Grinch who rewrote “Hark!” was paying attention from up there on Mount Crumpit.

Here’s a little suggestion to people who want to make changes to the lyrics of our favorite carols in the name of political correctness. Before you do this, first look up at the top of the sheet music to where it lists the lyricist and/or composer. If the person listed has been dead for over 100 years, don’t change the lyrics. If, instead of a person’s name, it says something like “TRADITIONAL,” that’s a pretty good hint that the song is a traditional one. Don’t mess with it!