Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (40 page)

    
The following is another example of one of Lerner’s everyday letters that hint again at his personality:

    
To George A. Warde, American Airlines

    
October 20, 1973

    
Dear Mr. Warde:

    
Letters of complaint must be as boring to the reader as they are to the writer—even a professional writer such as I, and I would never have added my contribution had it not been for one of the American Airlines ladies at one of the airports—a lass I used to know years ago when I used to fly American Airlines. She asked me why she had not seen me lately and I explained it to her graphically. She took me aside and pleaded with me to write to the American Airlines office as a favor to her. It seems that the rudeness and brusqueness of the American Airlines stewardesses are quite well known and, according to her, I would be doing the decent people at American Airlines a favor by recounting to the management my experiences.

        
To put the matter in some perspective, I fly thousands and thousands of miles a year, and this is the first such letter I have ever written, or felt the need to write. Let me give you one or two examples of the “courtesy” of the American Airlines stewardesses.

        
1) Last year flying from New York to Los Angeles I discovered a friend of mine in economy. I was in First Class. During the flight I walked back to say hello. The stewardess in economy stopped me, literally blocked the passage and told me to return to First Class. I said: Do you mean I am not allowed to visit a friend in economy? She said, in the ice-covered tones of a storm trooper: Not on my plane. She said it so loudly that several rows turned around to see what was happening.

        
2) A few weeks ago I had to bring a small dog from New York to Detroit. I placed him in the proper box and told the stewardess I would hold him in my lap for a few moments to quieten his fears and then I would place him under the seat as I usually do on TWA or any of the airlines I have ever flown. Said the stewardess: This plane will not leave the ground until that box is under your seat, upon which she left and
returned with some tape to tape up the box. The last time this happened to me on American Airlines I got off and waited one hour and took TWA, where I had no trouble. Unfortunately, on this occasion I had to be in Detroit and I had no alternative but to obey the orders of this ill-mannered, unfeeling, intolerable creature. Needless to say, the dog threw up, and it was all rather messy.

        
I had two or three similar experiences several years ago and have successfully avoided taking American Airlines until recently. I read that the company is in the process of reorganization, and I can certainly understand why. I am on the road directing a play of mine,
Gigi
, and I have gone out of my way to make certain the company of some fifty people is never booked on your airline.

        
Returning from London via Pan American the other day, I found myself seated next to an American Airlines official, and I told him of my misadventures. He nodded sadly and said: Yes, yes, we know that happens. Please write.

        
I have no idea why American Airlines has successfully cornered the market on all the rudeness that flies in the skies. I can only say, Sir, that it makes “the good life” the emptiest of promises, and I cannot help but feel sorry for some of the more civilized personnel. It is on their behalf, I suppose, that I write.

Very truly yours,

Alan Jay Lerner

    
As Lerner mentions in this letter, he had been present at additional performances of
Gigi
on its tryouts in St. Louis, Detroit, and Toronto, where it played for three weeks before previewing at Broadway’s Uris Theatre from November 7 and opening on November 13. In spite of Lerner’s hard work, not only on the writing but also the direction (he had taken over from Joseph Hardy in Detroit), as well as the replacement of Terese Stevens with her understudy Karin Wolfe,
⁵⁴
the reviews were sadly mixed, ranging from Martin Gottfried’s rather crude “It is as big and stylish as a discount store” (
Women’s Wear Daily
) to Douglas Watt’s comment in the
Daily News
that the show “struggles to evoke once more the chic and rapture of the Lerner-Loewe film classic.” The show closed in February 1974 after a disappointing 103 performances.

    
From this, Lerner moved on to one of the most potentially exciting collaborations of his entire career. Lerner’s name had been linked with the composer Leonard Bernstein on at least three prior occasions: once in connection with a
possible musical in the late 1940s, once in 1957 when they wrote a celebratory piece for their alma mater, Harvard University, and very briefly when Richard Rodgers had dropped out of
I Picked a Daisy
(which became
On a Clear Day
). In the fall of 1973, they finally agreed to write a Broadway musical together. Although Bernstein had considered writing several shows in the 1960s, none of them came to fruition, so this would be his first musical since his masterpiece,
West Side Story
(1957). Its subject was to be a history of the White House, though its exact nature was yet to be decided. The collaboration was firmly in place, and in November 1973 Lerner wrote the following amusing message to Bernstein on the occasion of the composer’s return to Harvard to give his famous Norton Lectures:

    
To Leonard Bernstein

    
November 19, 1973

    
Dear Son:

    
I want to congratulate you on your splendid record at Harvard. The Cambridge Police has notified me that you have broken the thirty day record for parking tickets. As for your liquor bills, they are still at M.I.T. being computed. And who is this girl Mary Juana? Why is she so expensive? Can’t you find a nice, sensible Jewish girl? And what about graduating sometime? At fifty-four you should be able to make it now.

        
Amen.

        
Saint [Subber] and I went to see
Via Galactica
⁵⁵
the other night and I’m afraid we’d better forget about Peter Hall.
⁵⁶
I cannot hold him to account for the imbecility of the material, but he is certainly to blame for the rank amateurishness of the presentation. Anything that could be done to kill any emotion he successfully accomplished. The demands of the scenery made it impossible to put the orchestra in the pit and as a result, the string section is somewhere behind a panel, the brass is in the ladies’ room and there is a moog synthesizer (how do you spell it?) that I believe is telephoned in from across town. Any director whose priority list places the sets above the music is hardly our man.

        
I spent a week in California on
Gigi
and now I am back and about to start on our opus. I know that in those cloistered surroundings the theater must seem light years away, but I couldn’t resist dropping you a line.

        
Tobago was lovely. I can’t wait for June.

        
If you get a chance, call me when you get back—if you come back.

Always,

Jean-Paul Lambeau

The show would eventually become
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
, but it was still more than two years from completion. This time, Bernstein’s busy concert schedule would be the main reason for the delay. Nonetheless, this jovial letter set the tone for what seemed to be a largely happy writing process, even though the production itself turned out to be another sad disaster for Lerner.

    
He started to draft the libretto in November, and progress had already been made by Christmas, at which point he wrote the following short message to Irving Berlin, who had by now become a good friend:

    
To Irving Berlin

    
December 21, 1973

    
Dear Irving,

    
It’s very hard not to think of you most of the year, but it’s impossible at Christmas.

        
I do hope you are well. I hope you have a lovely holiday. And I wish I could add to your life a particle of the joy you have brought to mine.

Faithfully,

Alan

Replying in February 1974, Berlin commented on the apparently perfect match of Lerner and Bernstein:

    
From Irving Berlin

    
February 6, 1974

    
Dear Alan,

    
I’m sorry to have waited so long with my thanks for your nice holiday message. Frankly, I’ve had one of my “let-downs” and it took me longer to snap out of this one. However, I feel much better now.

        
I was deeply touched by your note and thank you for your thoughtfulness.

        
I haven’t had a chance to see
Gigi
. I understand it’s doing well, but it is not the block-buster that I rooted and hoped for, but you seem to keep going.

        
I was interested and pleased with the news about your future plans, especially the show you are doing with Leonard Bernstein. He is one composer who not alone can read, write and conduct music, but can write a good tune. The man who wrote the lyrics for
My Fair Lady
and the guy who wrote the music for
West Side Story
is a pretty good combination.

        
Again, many thanks for your note and my best to you.

Always,

Irving

    
In the same period, Lerner also heard from Lehman Engel,
⁵⁷
conductor of many Broadway shows and the author of a number of books on musicals. His latest volume focused on song lyrics, and he wrote to ask for Lerner’s permission in reproducing some of his lyrics for the book. Lerner’s humorous reply masks a curiosity about which lyrics were required (and ultimately he only gave permission for a portion of Engel’s list of 23 lyrics to be included):

    
To Lehman Engel

    
January 8, 1974

    
Dear Lehman,

    
Not only did I not faint when I received your letter—I was overjoyed to hear from you—especially when you wish to offer me money, albeit only $10.00.

        
Your request to include some of my lyrics is, of course, rhetorical, providing the chapter on me begins: “Not since Robert Burns and the Cavalier poets…” but I expect that’s what you intend to do anyhow. Naturally, I would most appreciate it if I could see the chapter before it goes to print, and suffice to say I wish you all the best luck in the world on the project.

Faithfully,

Alan

    
The first few months of the year were spent on three activities: continuing work on
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
, trying to fight for changes to
The Little Prince
, and writing a series of “footnotes” for use in a “cavalcade of American music” to be staged by New York’s City Center in April. The following letter to Irving Lazar, Lerner’s agent at the time, reveals Lerner’s feelings on all three musicals:

    
To Irving Lazar

    
March 14, 1974

    
Dear fellow,

    
Sorry I missed you in New York, but as I trust somebody told you, I was in Haiti for a week—which was very quiet, very sunny, and I got a lot of sleep and a lot of work done and enough color to blend in with the natives.

        
The show with Lenny is coming along great. We’re having a marvelous time and about seven numbers are in various stages of completion. He goes on tour the beginning of July and we both feel the show will be finished by then. He returns in November for rehearsals.

        
I don’t know whether you’re up to date on
The Little Prince
, but although the overall picture is good, the first half is slow and the sequence when the Rose sings “Be Happy” is an absolute abomination. As a reflection of Donen’s exalted view of love, women and mankind, the role is played by a hooker and sung and danced in a manner that can only be described as a cross between Carrie Fernell and Ann Corio. I’m not certain how Bob feels about it, but I
know
that Frank Yablans
⁵⁸
is as revolted as Joe Tandet,
⁵⁹
Fritz and I are, and we are trying to set up a meeting with him in New York to see what can be done. Donen refuses to change it, giving among his arguments that Peter Bogdanovich
⁶⁰
thinks it’s terrific. (No fool, Bogdanovich.) I’m sorry that you have not had a chance to see the picture because I can’t believe that your own violent reaction wouldn’t help.

        
City Center is doing a sort of five week celebration of American music of the twentieth century for which I supplied some footnotes. I hope for the sake of the City Center that it works. For myself, I couldn’t give more of a damn.

        
I saw Gar[son Kanin] and Ruth [Gordon] the other night and they are tremendously excited about “Dreyfus.” It sounds terrific.

        
I hope all is well Chez Lazar. Give Mary my love. I’ll see you at the opening of Ascot.

Aye,

Alan

In any event, Lerner’s ambivalence toward the City Center show was to be well placed. When it opened on April 11, the reviews were harsh, with Clive Barnes commenting in the
New York Times
that he was “surprised how close to all wrong the show came.”
⁶¹
Lerner also came in for blame for certain aspects of the show’s organization, and received, for instance, a letter from Burton Lane’s lawyer, Arnold Weissberger, asking why Lane’s name had not been credited since one of his songs was to be performed. Lerner wrote the following letter of defense, explaining that his participation in the show had been very marginal and was essentially an act of charity on his part: