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.