Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (15 page)

    
76
In the end, American actor John Michael King (1926–2008) played Freddy Eynsford-Hill on Broadway.

    
77
Cecil Beaton (1904–80) was an English designer of theatrical sets and costumes, as well as a popular photographer. His costume designs for
My Fair Lady
solidified his reputation and led to many other engagements, such as Arthur Freed and Lerner’s film
Gigi
(1958).

    
78
A reference to Rockland County, where Lerner spent much time writing.

    
79
Howard Dietz (1896–1983) was an American lyricist and librettist, most famous for his collaborations with the composer Arthur Schwartz (on shows such as
The Band Wagon
). Dietz was also a leading Hollywood publicist.

    
80
It’s Always Fair Weather
was Gene Kelly’s latest film; like
Invitation to the Dance
, it was a commercial flop.

    
81
In fact, Harrison was at least third choice for the role of Higgins. See McHugh,
Loverly
, 20–21.

    
82
From an interview with Lehman Engel, transcript held in the Lehman Engel Papers, Gilmore Music Library, Yale University, box 32, folder 623, 3–4.

    
83
Roy Lowe, Harrison’s vocal coach.

    
84
A reference to Lieutenant Cable’s song “Younger than Springtime” from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s
South Pacific
.

    
85
Lerner writes of this cut song in
Street
: “There was to be a scene following Eliza’s catastrophic blunder at Ascot in which she refused to go on. The idea of the song was, having tried every form of persuasion from cajoling to steamrolling, Higgins finally resorts to charm. It was written as a waltz and I was on it for three weeks.” He continues, “We all felt that undoubtedly this would be Rex’s
pièce de résistance
in the first act,” but reports that on opening night it was “a disaster in three-quarter time” and was cut after one performance. Lerner,
Street
, 78, 79 and 105.

    
86
Laurence Evans, Harrison’s agent in London.

    
87
Hugh “Binky” Beaumont, the London producer of
Bell, Book and Candle
, the play from which Harrison had to be released in order to appear in
My Fair Lady
on Broadway. Beaumont went on to produce
Fair Lady
in London as part of his deal to release Harrison.

    
88
Loewe’s own preference for the title—perhaps because of its resemblance to that of
Brigadoon
, as Lerner suggests in
The Street Where I Live
.

Rehearsals for
My Fair Lady
were due to begin on January 3, 1956. Out of caution for the weather, which often delayed flights in the winter, Lerner and Levin wanted the British stars of the show to arrive in New York before the New Year, and both Rex Harrison and Stanley Holloway readily acquiesced. But Julie Andrews—who had just finished a run of
The Boy Friend
on Broadway and was signed up to appear in
My Fair Lady
for two years—desperately wanted to spend the holiday with her family (including her young brothers) in London. Lerner wrote to try to persuade her to come sooner:

    
To Julie Andrews

    
December 5, 1955

    
Dear Julie,

    
Nancy
¹
tells me you are absolutely first-rate in
High Tor
—which comes as no surprise. And I also received a letter from Arthur Schwartz with a more gushing version of the same report. Suffice to say I couldn’t be happier if you were one of my own family, which in a manner of speaking for the next few years I trust you will be.

        
I don’t know whether or not you have been aware of the explosive conversations that have been going on lately between Herman Levin and Lou Wilson.
²
I might add that Herman has been doing the
conversing and Lou the exploding. What it’s all been about is the matter of your being here on December 27th. I, of course, realize how much you would want to be with your family over New Year’s, but there are a few things involved that I beg you to consider. I am sure you know in advance that our desire to have you here on that date is no capricious whim on our part.

        
Both Rex and Stanley Holloway are arriving at that time. It is not at all uncommon for the stars of a play to make it their business to be in town a week before rehearsals for the express purpose of using that time for the good of themselves and the play. You are a star now, Julie, and I do think that as a well-meaning observer, as well as an active participant in these proceedings, it would be most impolitic to have them, who are two great and established artists, follow the usual pattern and you not do so. Even though we will not, of course, be working around the clock during that time, much can be accomplished in those few days. We can go over your new songs with you and get the keys set. If you feel it is necessary, you could freshen up your Cockney with Dixon.
³
We could go over a couple of the scenes, which we would all like to hear, mainly for length, before the first reading on stage January 3rd. Besides that, there is that old devil Publicity, which, annoying as it is, is more annoying when it isn’t. It will also give you a chance to make yourself comfortable in your flat, and you will be rested and ready for the official first day of rehearsals January 3rd.

        
Another thing that worries us about your not leaving London until New Year’s Day is the problem of flying conditions at that time of year. Should you run into bad weather and be delayed, or should New York be fogged in, which is not at all unusual at that time of the year, you might find yourself arriving the night of January 2nd, or even the morning of rehearsals. I do feel it would be calling it a bit close.

        
Lou Wilson—I think a little foolishly—has been defending your “rights” vigorously. His position has been that if we want you here on the 27th, move rehearsals up and you will be here. It’s far from my intention to go behind your representative’s back, but I think that what is involved here is not a legal matter, but merely one of common sense for all concerned. Hence my writing you directly.

        
If I have, I hope successfully, upset your holiday plans, with all my heart I wish you a wonderful Christmas. I’ll try to fix up one room in the apartment to look like an English pub, and if you will join us New Year’s Eve, at 12:00 o’clock we will all sit around and sing “Sweet Blooming Lavender.” As for the new year that comes after, I have a very good feeling it’s going to be all yours. I certainly hope so—not only for you, but if it is, the chances are it will be for me too.

        
Will I see you December 27th? Please. Please.

Fondly,

Alan

The letter shows Lerner at his persuasive best and is an indication of how his input into the show often involved acting as a tacit co-producer, but Andrews understandably decided to put her family duty first.
⁴
And though her arrival at the start of the next year was famously followed by a challenging rehearsal period for her—in which the director, Moss Hart, had to close down rehearsals for the weekend and spend time with her on her own to polish her interpretation—the decision proved to be wise for Andrews in retrospect: after a long stint in
Fair Lady
on Broadway, she had little break before the start of rehearsals for the London transfer of the show.

    
On January 1, 1956, the musical began its media campaign with a large photograph in the
New York Times
of the female dancers from the show in rehearsal with Hanya Holm,
⁵
the choreographer. Ironically, the photograph probably depicts the show’s ballet which was ultimately cut, but “Some of the Fair Ladies in
My Fair Lady
,” as the photo’s caption reads, was the start of Levin’s intense effort to guarantee the show’s success with extensive press coverage in the weeks leading up to the opening in mid-March. Meanwhile, the onstage success of the show was by this point largely in the hands of one man: Moss Hart. In his memoir, Lerner wrote of Hart, who directed
Camelot
as well as
Fair Lady
: “Moss Hart, as I was to find out, had no understudies. He is and will forever be irreplaceable to more people in more ways than any man I have ever known.” As a theater writer and director, Hart was perhaps Lerner’s biggest hero: his interest in every aspect of theater was something Lerner admired and often emulated. In the following undated letter, probably written just after the opening of the New Haven tryout of
My Fair Lady
, Lerner pays tribute to everything Hart brought to the show:

    
To Moss Hart

    
[Undated; c. mid-February 1956]

    
Dear Moss:

    
I have to type this because I don’t have a pen.

        
Because I’m “rich and Jewish” I’ve received a lot of nice presents in my time, but in all my graying thirty-seven years none has ever meant as much to me as yours. I’ve never been sentimental about possessions, but I shall keep these with me always.

        
Dear Moss—I don’t make friends easily and those I love often have to wait years to discover how I really feel. I’m not too good at saying things. That’s why I’m writing you. But through the years you will find out that in a very short time I’ve grown to love you very deeply—and even though you are one of those rare gents who has crowds who adore you there is no one, literally no one, who will ever be in your corner more than I.

        
As for the show, I shudder to think what would have become of it without you. God knows it’s yours as much as mine. And if God doesn’t know it, I do.

        
Oh for a walk on the boardwalk!

Alan

    
Though the chances of
Fair Lady
’s success seemed high, Lerner also revived a backup plan: on February 22 it was announced that he and Burton Lane were negotiating with MGM to bring their unused
Huckleberry Finn
movie material to the stage.
⁶
It was to be Lane’s first Broadway score since
Finian’s Rainbow
in 1947, and he was to co-produce the show with Lerner, helped by financial backing from MGM. But it quickly became apparent that
Fair Lady
was to exceed all expectations, and Lerner was soon busy with the biggest success of his career. The
New York Times
ran a large photo spread on March 4, and two days later Levin announced that ticket prices for the new show would be raised from September—a sure sign that the producer expected sufficient demand to take this risk.
⁷

    
In jovial mood, Lerner wrote to his friend, the legendary theatrical producer Irene Mayer Selznick, to invite her to the Broadway opening. Reference is made in the letter to “gratitude” and to Rex Harrison. During the previous year,
Harrison had starred in the play
Bell, Book and Candle
in London, and because of the production’s success he was unable to leave to start
Fair Lady
when Lerner and Levin wished. Selznick’s intervention (as the play’s Broadway producer) played an important role in releasing the actor early; hence, the particular care and enthusiasm with which she was invited to the musical’s opening:

    
To Irene Mayer Selznick

    
March 7, 1956

    
Irene darling,

    
Great fights between Rex and me about who gets to invite you to the opening. So we compromise by saying that we both do—with much love and gratitude.

        
I’ll have the seats delivered to your hotel when I come back to town next week.

        
Can’t wait to see you and have a good “jaw.” Will you be in town the week after we open? I’ll call you next week.

Devotedly,

Alan

    
On March 11, Levin announced that he was in discussions with Lerner and Loewe to produce the movie adaptation of the show independently, and the following day a reporter observed that “
My Fair Lady
, whose out-of-town tryout ended in Philadelphia Saturday night, already has taken on legendary stature, although it does not open on Broadway until Thursday.…[N]‌early everyone is convinced that something pretty hot is cooking.”
⁸
The piece explained that the stars were being bombarded with demands from friends for tickets for opening night: “As it developed quickly that there were at least ten bids for each available ticket, Mr. Harrison, Miss Andrews et al had no choice but to cut off their telephones or leave instructions that no long-distance calls be put through to them.”