Stage Door Johnny and the Quaalude Samba Folky Jazz Groove

STAGE DOOR JOHNNY
and the
QUAALUDE-SAMBA-FOLKY-JAZZ GROOVE
by Glen Roven

Stage Door Johnny is John Miller’s phenomenal new CD featuring Broadway Classics done in John’s inimitable style. Think James Taylor crossed with Lerner and Lowe. Think Doctor John riffing on Rodgers and Hammerstein. When he first sent me an advanced copy, I played it in my car and almost crashed it was so wonderful. The legendary composer, Marc Shaiman summed it up brilliantly, “I had a smile on my face ten seconds into the CD.”

John Miller is hardly a household name. Unless, of course, a member of that household happens to be a musician, and that household happens to be anywhere near New York City. Then, trust me, John Miller is very much a household name.

For John Miller is one of the premier Music Coordinators on Broadway, the man (there are no women that I know of) in charge of hiring musicians who play in the pit orchestras of Broadway musicals. Right now, John looks after Hairspray, Jersey Boys, Xanadu and Young Frankenstein. His list of past shows hovers around one hundered.

But this article is not about Johnny Miller, the Music Coordinator. It’s not about his kindness to fellow artists, his generosity of spirit, his dry sense of humor, or his integrity and honesty. This is about Stage Door Johnny, which will be released September 30th, on PS Classics. With this CD, John steps out of the pit and into the spotlight, Center Stage. This is about John Miller: producer, arranger, musician and most importantly, artist.

Johnny’ performing skills come as no surprise to us old folk who witnessed his amazing performance in the musical, I Love My Wife. In addition to the four star actors, the smaller parts and, of course, the music, were performed by the band. (Take that John Doyle; Joe Layton was doing it in the sixties.)

Johnny’s performance of the Act Two opening is indelibly imprinted in my mind. The curtain went up and there he was with his bass, about to launch into the jaunty Cy Coleman bass line for Hey There, Good Times. But as it was snowing (on stage), before he started, he looked up, gently flicked a snowflake off the bass, dried off his instrument, and then hurled headlong into the song. Jack Benny could have learned a few things from John’s impeccable timing. The audience roared and Act Two started with a bang. I remember watching a performance with Mark Bramble, Mike Stewart’s pal who wrote the book and lyrics. Mark exclaimed, “Now that’s how you open a second act.

GR: Would I be off the mark to say this is the Broadway album James Taylor could have made?

JM: Anytime anyone compares me to James, I’m unbelievably flattered! It’s like saying, I saw you on the basketball court and you have moves like Michael Jordon.”

GR: Which is highly unlikely. Neither of us crack 5’7.

JM: I’m talking metaphorically, of course. But I never try to sound like James. Or anyone, actually. That just seems to happen whenever I start to sing.

GR: Which is?

JM: I call it my Quaalude-samba-folky-jazz groove.

GR: I wonder if there’s a category for that at Barnes and Nobles?

JM: Do we have a shot?

GR: Tell me about the genesis of Stage Door Johnny, the album.

JM: I skillfully avoided doing this for a good 25 years. I used to sit around on the couch playing all these songs on the guitar, late at night. Not really knowing what I was doing on the guitar…

GR: Cause you’re a bass player.

JM: Correct. I didn’t even know the names of some of the chords I was making up. It reminded me of the time I played with Joni Mitchell. I looked over to Joni and asked her, “What’s that chord you’re playing?” And she said, “No idea.” I’d play my arrangements for guitar players and they’d say, “What the hell is that? What an interesting chord.” I guess ignorance is bliss.

I’d say fifteen years ago, I thought, hey, let me get a little home studio, work out the kinks, play around with the background vocals, the bass lines. I went with Bob Rose (another major NY musician) to Manny’s Music store and bought this Yamaha Eight track home studio. Bob came to my home, he set it up, put the speakers there, the wires, etc., and left. I looked at the manual and I realize I’m very, very good with the first sentence, which said, “Congratulations you just bought a Yamaha such and such home studio.” I realized very soon I wasn’t so good with the next 50 pages. I didn’t understand a thing. My spine started sweating. I became totally technophobic. So much so, that I couldn’t even go in the room! So I retreated to my couch and started strumming the guitar. I went back to playing the guitar on the couch for another ten of years.

Then, two or three years ago, I had a light bulb Zen moment of enlightenment. After so many years of playing these songs, I pretty much knew what I wanted to do. I said, let me by-pass the whole manual part. I realized I don’t have to learn all that stuff. At the same time, Connie, my wife said, “Enough already. It’s too depressing hearing you sing these songs for 12 years. Either do it or don’t. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

So, it was just time. And after such a long gestation period, I knew exactly who I wanted to co-produce it with me, I knew who I wanted to play on it with me, who would engineer it. And the next day, I put the team together, booked the studio and forged on.

GR: Tell me how the music came together?

JM: It was as organic as anything can be. The first song I did fifteen years ago was “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?” I didn’t plan on doing it. I was just fooling around late at night, D9 Bm7 . Be gong, be, ba da, bi gong ging.

GR: (thinking) How the heck am I going to convey how cool it sounds having John Miller sing you a bass line?

JM: So I didn’t have a specific song in mind. I was just watching some Rambo movie late at night. Just grooving. And somewhere deep in my mind’s ear, without thinking of it, I came up with, ‘All I want is a room somewhere.’

GR: And that’s one of my favorite tracks. How did you pick the rest of the songs?

JM: In every single song the groove came first. I never looked at a list of songs. I never asked, “What song would I love to do?” There were all based on some guitar riff that I came up with. And the rest just flowed extremely naturally.

GR: Interesting. Because after hearing the album, I would swear it was just the opposite: that the song came first and then the accompanying groove. But it makes sense: you, being a bass player, would work out the song arrangement from the bottom up.

JM: Correct. Not only the songs, but the complete arrangements came from that late night musical sound.

GR: That Quaalude-samba-folky-jazz groove.

JM: Yup.

GR: I think this is the only Broadway compilation that I’d want to have sex to. You don’t want to have sex to Dear World.

JM: No comment. But, I think I’m somewhat limited by my guitar playing. Cause there’s only one thing I sort of do.

GR: In addition to being your biggest fan, I’m also a huge fan of your co-producer David Spinozza, the guitar player.

JM: My choosing Spinozza to be a partner in crime was not casual. I thought for a long, long time. I’ve worked with him as a guitarist for years, knowing his sensibilities, and his sense of what I call right-eousness, what is pure, when there is a need for nothing, a need for air.

One of the most flattering moments for me was when Warren Odze (the drummer) turned to Spinozza and said, “David, that sounds great.” Spinozza pointed to me and said, “It was Miller.”

GR: Another one of my favorite tracks is “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning.”

JM: I heard this tune as a “Brother Where Art Thou,” white gospel sound. I also heard an Aaron Copeland, Randy Newman Americana feel. I knew I wanted pedal steel. And again, I came up with my organic way of doing it.

GR: You’ve been around Broadway for 45 years! An amazing career. And you’ve heard a lot of music. Tell me. What makes a great Broadway song?

JM: I don’t know if I’m smart enough to answer that like a smart person would answer; but clearly, any time you go to a show and walk out humming a song you’ve never heard before, that has a profoundly deep effect.

GR: You and I are primarily behind the scenes guys. Occasionally we step out, but only when necessary. What’s it like for you being in the spotlight?

JM: My friends and I have made long careers out of being sidemen. One of my best sidemen stories is, I was working with this singer and she had written a waltz. She said, during a recording session, “I’d like this to be a reggae.” Now, she was smart enough not to ask any of us, “Do you think this is a good idea?”

GR: That might fly in LA because the musicians are so sweet out there. That would NOT fly in NYC!

JM: We are trained to say, “You got it.” We give them the best we can do and then leave. It’s their baby. They wrote it, their project. It should be exactly how they want it.

I’ve received many CDs from friends of mine who are sidemen and I’ve always been moved by what a courageous thing it is for them to do. They are, in effect saying, here is the music I feel in my soul, here is how I feel music.

So, this album is how I feel about music. And I’m very comfortable saying that. But it was an extraordinary experience to finally be the person who could tell these great musicians, I want my waltz to be a reggae.

GR: Has it been a pleasant experience?

JM: You bet. It’s a great luxury for a musician to be able to do their own project without any upfront deal. There are no restrictions other than your own imagination.

GR: And the goal?

JM: I had one goal only: for me to love every note of it. If other people dig it, that’s great. If some people don’t, none of that would take away from the joy we I had doing it. I have loved every minute. There isn’t any part of doing the music that hasn’t been a peak experience.

Glen Roven is an Emmy award winning composer who recently made his Carnegie Hall debut conducting his Violin Concert. The CD was released on SONY/BMG with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. He is hoping Stage Door Johnny will one day hire him.

Creating The Bunny

Brooke Shields will star in the New York premiere concert of The Runaway Bunny, a concerto by Glen Roven, for reader, violin and orchestra at Carnegie Hall on Tuesday, April 29 at 7:30PM in the Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage; conducted by Glen Roven. Tickets are on sale now at www.carnegiehall.org

Presented by Medical Development for Israel with the Ilona Feher Foundation, The Runaway Bunny will be featured as part of the Schneider Children's Medical Center of Israel Benefit Concert.

Taking the audience through the journeys of the wayward bunny, this special one-night only, star-studded concert introduces both children and adults alike to the beauty and power of classical music. Filling a much-needed gap in the symphonic repertoire for family audiences, The Runaway Bunny touches the hearts of anyone who has had a mother or is a mother. As an organization dedicated to improving the well-being of children, SCMCI is thrilled to be joining hands with fellow child advocates Brooke Shields and the ASO.

In 2006, Emmy award-winning composer Glen Roven collaborated with violin supernova Ittai Shapira to produce The Runaway Bunny recording with Brooke Shields and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in London. Since its UK release on the SONY/BMG label, millions of listeners have embraced it. Following its recent success across the pond, SONY/BMG is slated to release The Runaway Bunny/Paddington Bear's First Concert/Tubby The Tuba children's classics album in the United States April 8.

The program will include American Symphony Orchestra with conductor Glen Roven and Brooke Shields. Plus violinists Ittai Shapira, Shmuel Ashkenasi, Netanel Draiblate, Arnold Steinhardt, Hagai Shaham and Itamar Zorman.

As this is the World premiere of The Runaway Bunny, as it's Roven's Carnegie Hall conducting debut and as Brooke Shields is graciously appearing as the soloist, Roven discussed how he and Shields got to Carnegie Hall...

How did you get to Brooke Shields?

Actually, that was just about the easiest piece of the "collaborative" puzzle. We had the SONY/BMG deal in place, I had already recorded the orchestra with the Royal Philharmonic and we were looking to add the narrator. We had a list and Brooke's name was at the top. The whole thing with Tom Cruise had broken and Brooke seemed like the perfect mother figure. I had a friend who knew her and one Friday night he went to her dressing room; she was performing in Chicago. She was a huge fan of the book (as is almost everyone!) and twenty minutes later, he called and said she would love to do it. I was thrilled, of course. And just to make me even happier, her agent called that very night to make the deal. I've been in the business long enough to know no Hollywood agent EVER calls at 10PM on a Friday night to say his client was NOT going to do a project.

You mentioned 'almost' everyone loves the book. Who couldn't possibly love this book? Barbarians?

Shrinks! They think it's about a predatory Mother. Ridiculous!

Back to Brooke: What was it like recording with her?

A total pleasure, beginning to end. When she came to the studio she brought her beautiful daughter Ronan, and Ronan's grandmother. I actually didn't put two and two together until after the session when I realized that was Brooke's infamous mother, Terry! That was exciting in retrospect. It was a wonderful performance because Brooke knew the book so well. And obviously loved it. As did her daughter. When she started to record, her daughter screamed out to her mom, "That's my Bunny book!"

So her second baby wasn't born yet?

No. But she was pregnant. And on the EPK (Electronic Press Kit which I believe is on YouTube) you can see her holding the headphones to her belly and letting her unborn daughter hear the music. We were all in tears.

How did you come to write the piece? Did you grow-up with the book?

No. I actually was probably one of the only people in America who didn't know the book. Which explains a lot about me, unfortunately. I was watching the movie Wit one night in bed. When Emma Thompson is about to die, her first grade teacher comes to visit her and she reads her "The Runaway Bunny." I was immediately touched by the few verses read and ordered the book on Amazon. It came a few days later and I simply loved it.

How did the book become a violin concerto?

I was looking for a piece to write for a very well-known Violinist friend of mine, Ittai Shapira. We had recently started doing things together and I figured if I wrote him a piece, he might play it. I'm just another composer trying to get his music played. I figured I had an in.

What about the story suggested a concerto?

The book is extremely episodic. The Bunny wants to run away and become a trout, or a bird, or join a circus. I knew instantly that it could be musicalized. I would "make" the bunny swim, fly, walk the tightrope. And I knew the sound of a Violin would be the perfect soloist in a concerto. The perfect Bunny.

Did Ittai respond to the idea right away?

Oh, yes. But originally I thought about writing it for Violin, Orchestra and Singer. But Ittai suggested I do it for Narrator as it would be easier to find and rehearse a narrator as opposed to a singer. Our talent pool for the narrator would be larger.

What's your favorite part of the piece?

Hard question. I'll tell you the part I'm most proud of. It's the very opening motif. What we call the Hopping Motif. Ba dum, de dum. Ba dum, de dum. After Brooke says, "Once there was a little bunny," the violin plays those eight notes and everyone gets it immediately: that's the bunny. I think that's an amazing thing. That lateral connection. A little piece of wood with strings on it makes a sound of eight notes and it's immediately recognized as the bunny. I love that little kids as well as adults get that.

Is the piece for children?

Well certainly children will enjoy it, I hope. But I know the adults will find it enjoyable. Or at least I hope they will.

How did you get Sony to record the piece?

Actually that's the question all my composer friends ask. Happily, I didn't pay a thing! They wanted to do it. A friend of mine, who started out as a clarinet player in the London pit of Chess, Chris Craker, had his own small label at one time, and that label was bought out by a bigger label, and that label by a bigger one, and after a few years he ended up head of SONY Classical UK. So I went to him and he made it happen. Now he's head of SONY worldwide, so maybe I can get some other stuff recorded.

What was it like hearing it played for the first time?

What do you think? Thrilling, of course. Actually we recorded it on July 13, 2005, my birthday. In London. Sadly, we didn't have the money to rehearse it or even play it down before we went to the recording studio. So I had to hear everything in my head. And I was lucky. When I finally heard the orchestra, I had very few changes to make.

Did the Royal Philharmonic enjoy playing the piece?

Well, when they first saw the title, The Runaway Bunny, I think they figured, "Another boring CD for kids." But once they started playing it, I could see them all lean into their stands more and more. They realized they had to work a bit. It's a very challenging piece for an orchestra. As I guess the American Symphony – the orchestra performing at Carnegie – will find out as well.

You've never conducted the Carnegie orchestra… Are you looking forward to it?

Of course! I didn't conduct the album. Barry Wordsworth did and he really did a great job. So this is my first time conducting the piece, my Carnegie debut, and the first performance of the Concerto.

What are your hopes for the piece?

I'd like every orchestra in the country to play it, what do you think?! And I'd love it to become a ballet. Do you know anyone at NYC Ballet?

Ticket proceeds for The Runaway Bunny benefit the Schneider Children's Medical Center of Israel. The Benefit Concert featuring the World Premiere of The Runaway Bunny is Tuesday, April 29 at 7:30PM at Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall (57th St./7th Ave

General Tickets $50-$100. To buy tickets, call 212.247.7800, or visit www.carnegiehall.org. To purchase Gala Tickets, call Schneider Children's at 212.759.3370 or visit www.mdinyc.org

For more information visit www.runawaybunnymusic.com

Playing For The Stars

Not to brag, but I've stood upon some pretty rarified podiums: I've conducted "The Candy Man" for Sammy, “New York, New York” for Frank, and “Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,” for Don McLean.

But to be honest, nothing competes in the thrill department with playing a piano for a Broadway legend who is recreating an original performance. Talk about musical comedy heaven.

I always feel I'm suddenly transported back to the Golden Age of Musicals, a period I sadly missed but imagined as intensely as any cast-album producer could have wished. When I play the piano for a legend and it's just the two of us onstage, I feel as if I am writer, singer, director and audience in a magical time-travel wish fulfillment dream.

When I was just a punk kid – probably aware that I'd have to hurry, I somehow managed to escape high school and started playing for performers at auditions, rehearsals and nightclubs in Manhattan. Phyllis Newman heard about me and I was suddenly writing her new act for the Grand Finale. (Anyone remember that place?). Phyllis was a well-known TV personality then but she first came to prominence as a supporting actress in a less-than-successful Jule Styne, Comden and Green musical called, Subways are For Sleeping. (Anyone remember that?) In fact, Phyllis won a Tony Award for her performance as a fallen bathing beauty, beating out another star-to-be who was making her debut as Miss Marmelstein down the block.

Happily for me, while my friends were listening to Black Sabbath, I was listening to Jule Styne and I knew the album to Subways by heart. So when Phyllis said we were going to do her famous number, “I Was A Shoo-in,” my heart skipped a beat. And when she said I was going to perform the Orson Bean dialogue with her, I virtually went into cardiac arrest.

Even then I was well aware that “Shoo-in” isn't first rate Jule Styne. It's probably not even third rate. But for me, at that moment, the number could have been “Rose's Turn.” There I was playing for the same person who was on the cast album, recreating with my fingers the sound that I grew up on. Last week I had been in home room, and this week I could not believe where I had landed.

Through Phyllis, I met her illustrious husband, Adolph Green and his partner Betty Comden. One fine day the pianist who had traveled with them for years couldn't make it, and I was enlisted. No World War II soldier ever stepped forward as fast. In a few minutes I was accompanying Adolph as he sang -- no, forgive me -- became Captain Hook, singing the lyrics he himself had written. And Betty imitating Judy Holiday? No, that's wrong. Judy Holiday was imitating Betty who was then imitating Judy. Well, who ever was doing whom, I remember the thrill of playing my favorite song, “Make Someone Happy,” with the lyricist. The way she phrased it, the way her lyrics caressed the music. It was poetry. I can hear her in my head as I write.

Over the years, I've accumulated many fabulous memories: playing “Nowadays” for Gwen and Chita, the Cassie Dance for Donna McKechnie and “What I Did for Love” for Priscilla Lopez. After she was a dictator-ess but before she was a legend, I played for Patti LuPone at many classy and not so classy venues. Performing Patti's Broadway classics was a completely different experience, because quite frankly, I never liked nor really understood “Don't Cry for Me Argentina.” Or “I Dreamed a Dream.” I admit I had been disappointed by these songs; they didn't seem to be infused with the wit and specificity of the songs I considered classics.

But something miraculous happened when I played for her. Her belief in the songs made me believe them absolutely. It was as if she were singing Mozart. I can't believe I felt like that. I can't believe I'm writing it. When I played that musical interlude in “Argentina,” I was there right by her side on the balcony at the Casa Rosada. When I played those three building chords and she lifted her hands, I could barely control myself.

Another memory is interviewing and playing for Carol Channing at a show we did together called Singular Sensations. We were talking about Dolly and the audience was eating it up. She and I had performed “Before the Parade Passes By,” and now we were talking about the title song and Gower Champion's staging: how in rehearsal, Gower had the waiters lift Carol in the air. Then he came running down the aisle saying, “No. That's wrong. Sorry. Dolly is becoming her own woman. She should never be lifted. She always has to have her two feet planted firmly on the ground.” Then Carol talked about the modulation into the last chorus. How it's not just a modulation, it's a musical metaphor for Dolly picking up the pieces of her life and moving forward.

The audience was mesmerized. Knowing the frenzy it would cause, I went to the piano and started the famous strut intro to “Hello, Dolly.” The crowd was on their feet and stood through the entire number. And when we hit that modulation and Dolly made up her mind, I modulated for dear life. I had to pinch myself: I was playing Dolly for Dolly.

Tonight, I have the privilege of playing for Florence Henderson in a new one women show we put together. When I first met her I had to reveal my guilty secret: When I was a little kid, way before High School exit strategy, my mother took me to the New York State Theater for the revival of South Pacific starring Florence. Honestly, I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the giant exotic flowers engulfing the proscenium; I remember the stage jutting over the orchestra pit; and most of all I remember Florence as Nellie Forbush. I was sitting way in the balcony but Lord, I swear I can remember her putting her hands on her hips, thrusting out her chest and belting “Wonderful Guy.” I even remember the sound and colors of the orchestra: that magical Richard Rodgers hesitation waltz and the heavy downbeats contrasting with the lightness of the tune.

So, tonight, when I start playing that famous vamp from South Pacific and Florence transforms into Nellie, you can bet I'll be trying to recreate those musical memories at the keyboard. Chances are, I'll have an enormous Cheshire Cat grin on my face. Now, you'll know why.

Glen Roven

Cheese, Egg and Poultry: A Few Memories of Ann Miller

When I was 19 I was the Musical Director of Sugar Babies on Broadway for the entire run. This was a pretty heavy job for a kid and when I asked Mickey Rooney if he minded that I was so young, he looked me straight in the eye (we were the same height) and said, "Kid, when I was 16 I was the biggest box office star in the world!"

During the difficult out of town try-outs the choreographer and producer were at odds with Mickey's co-star, Ann Miller, and they were also constantly trying to fire me, so Annie and I had an immediate bond: misery. Plus, she liked my conducting because I always followed her, no matter what she did. So every night after the show we would have a dinner of commiseration.

Sugar Babies made it into New York, was a huge hit, and all was forgiven. Ah, show-biz. For three years, Annie and I were inseparable. Now, remember, I was nineteen and this huge show-biz fan, so imagine what it was like for me to meet all her friends: Fred Astaire, Hermes Pan, Katherine Hepburn, etc. etc. One by one, and virtually every night they would parade into her dressing room after the show. The most fun I had though was after the shows. Mickey would rush out of the theater before I had even finished the Exit Music, but Annie would take her time, take off the famous wig, and get ready for her evening.

We would wait for the fans to leave and then Annie and I would hop into her waiting limo and head to a restaurant. Sometimes Ethel Merman came with us, sometimes Patti LuPone (she was Evita next door,) but every restaurant gladly stayed open for Annie because she was the toast of the town.

These were the days before VCRs and way before DVDs so the only way to see an old movie was to wait for it to appear on TV at 4 AM. But that wasn't good enough for Ann. She kept renting the original prints and projectors and screening all the classic MGM movies for me in her hotel suite. She claimed, "they're for your education, Glen," but I know she wanted to see them. And why not? She was amazing and gorgeous and hysterically funny.

We saw the famous ones of course, but I urge anyone who wants to pay tribute to this great lady to go out and rent Reverly for Beverly. Not quite seminal but pretty damn fun. As famous as the 500 taps per minute were her legendary gaffs. I honestly can't tell if they were unintentionally ludicrous statements or incredibly calculated brilliance. But it doesn't matter. Annie's death brought them racing back to my memory.

Mickey was out for a show and the understudy was on. The show was dying. Ann came running to me before the show and said, "Glen, it's awful. We have cheese all over our face." "Annie, it's egg." She said, "Cheese, egg, it's all poultry."

One day she came back from getting fitted for a new dress for the Tony's by Halston. Breathlessly, she said, "Glen, the dress is gorgeous. And you know what? Halston's name is spelled the same backwards as it is forward." I paused and said, "No, it's not." "Yes, it is." "No, it's not," I said more forcibly. "Yes it is…Wait a minute. It's not. Why'd he tell me that?!"

The first summer the show was in New York I rented a house on Fire Island. Because of the late night ferry connections I had to wait until Sunday morning to get to the beach. However, I realized if I gently speeded up some of the tempos I could cut 4 minutes off the show and make the Saturday night midnight ferry. (Forgive me, oh Gods of the theater, I was young.) So after she finished her first number, panting and sucking oxygen by the stage manager, she somehow got out, "I don't care…pant…pant…pant…if he is going to…pant…pant…pant…Fire Island…the tempos are too Goddamn fast!"

You gotta love her.