Hello, Hubsters! Karenatasha from New York to report on a very special Stephen Colbert appearance. (And there will be a long-overdue taping report from me in he next couple of days—I promise!)
On Monday, April 21st at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in New York’s Lincoln Center, our man Stephen joined a host of Broadway and theater stars in a gala performance to honor the writer, director, and producer Moss Hart. Called ACT TWO: A SWELL PARTY WITH MOSS HART AND FRIENDS, the evening celebrated Hart’s genius with stories, quotations, and scenes and songs from his well-known plays. (For those not familiar with Hart’s work, I recommend seeing the films You Can’t Take It With You and The Man Who Came to Dinner, as well as any of the musicals I mention below.)
Lively anecdotes introduced sequences from such musicals as JUBILEE, CAMELOT (“What Do the Simple Folk Do?,” sung by the marvelous Victoria Clark and David Garrison); MY FAIR LADY (“Show Me!,” by Kelli O’Hara), and a sizzling “Harlem on My Mind” from THOUSANDS CHEER, belted out by a bluesy, sultry Montego Glover. Malcolm Gets, Byron Jennings, Steven Pasquale, and Lewis J. Stadlen also performed in a setting that resembled a sparkling cocktail party from the 30s or 40s—just the type of glittering gathering that Hart and his wife Kitty Carlisle were renowned for hosting. The elaborate set belongs to the recently opened Hart Play Act One, currently showing at the Vivian Beaumont. It was all quite delightful in just the way it should be.
But of course it is our beloved Mr. Colbert of whom you wish to hear. He appeared late in the evening, just before the finale, striding swiftly onstage from the audience; he still wore in his suit from the Report, which made him stand out from the other actors, all dressed in elegant black evening clothes. Tumultuous applause greeted him. Then, very simply, he began to read “Advice to Breathless Thespians,” a wonderful and witty commencement speech that Hart originally delivered in 1960 to the graduating class of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and later reprinted in the New York Times. It begins thus:
“What advice could one possibly give to a hopelessly outnumbered squadron going into battle? The only acceptable words are ‘God be with you.’ For you are, in a most uncompromising way, going into battle.”
Listening to Stephen make his way through Hart’s “few rounds of private ammunition in the form of a handbook of behavior for everyday use in the theatre,” I could not help but imagine the young Mr. Colbert himself, graduating from Northwestern with dreams of performing. But Hart’s ammunition is not of the common kind offered to the average young graduate: he explains how to enter Sardi’s (the famed restaurant where Broadway casts await the first reviews of their shows) after a failure: “Do not, I beg you, enter gaily or laughingly. There is quite enough gallantry in the theatre without your adding to it. Remember, the people watching you enter are your fellow actors. You have read and enjoyed their bad notices. Give them a decent chance to enjoy yours …” Hart’s other words of wisdom concern how to present a letter of introduction, lie about your experience, and curry favor with the critics (“this is not as difficult as it may seem, their standards change alarmingly from season to season.) One sentence particularly about reviewers and their opinions struck me: “This year’s favorite is next year’s whipping boy, the reason being, of course, that they are notoriously unable to divorce the actor from the part he is playing.”
Part of me wonders: Does golden boy Stephen worry about becoming next year’s whipping boy when he takes his new position? Does he wonder if people will be unable — like Hart’s critics — to divorce the man from the part has played so well for so long? The fact that a great artist like Hart considered it impossible to avoid the ups and downs of theatrical life, and covered it with such wry amusement, must speak to Stephen. I felt there could be no more perfect piece for him, and I only wish that it had been taped. (Fingers crossed.) The thespians taking Hart’s advice might be breathless; I certainly held mine as I listened to Stephen deliver it so beautifully. After speaking the last words — “Remember, too, that in our own time the theatre has remained the last free forum of the arts, and know that you can walk proudly in the profession you have chosen” — he exited as swiftly as he had arrived, leaving the cast to finish with a reprise of the song, “Let’s Have Another Cup of Coffee.”
If you are a subscriber to The New York Times, you can access the archive and read the entire speech.
If I can find any other place that the article has been reprinted, I will let you know.
Meanwhile, you can also read a little bit more about the gala on Bloomberg. “Event ReporT: A Swell Party With Moss Hart And Friends”, out of 5 based on 2 ratings.
Event ReporT: A Swell Party With Moss Hart And Friends
Hello, Hubsters! Karenatasha from New York to report on a very special Stephen Colbert appearance. (And there will be a long-overdue taping report from me in he next couple of days—I promise!)
On Monday, April 21st at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in New York’s Lincoln Center, our man Stephen joined a host of Broadway and theater stars in a gala performance to honor the writer, director, and producer Moss Hart. Called ACT TWO: A SWELL PARTY WITH MOSS HART AND FRIENDS, the evening celebrated Hart’s genius with stories, quotations, and scenes and songs from his well-known plays. (For those not familiar with Hart’s work, I recommend seeing the films You Can’t Take It With You and The Man Who Came to Dinner, as well as any of the musicals I mention below.)
Lively anecdotes introduced sequences from such musicals as JUBILEE, CAMELOT (“What Do the Simple Folk Do?,” sung by the marvelous Victoria Clark and David Garrison); MY FAIR LADY (“Show Me!,” by Kelli O’Hara), and a sizzling “Harlem on My Mind” from THOUSANDS CHEER, belted out by a bluesy, sultry Montego Glover. Malcolm Gets, Byron Jennings, Steven Pasquale, and Lewis J. Stadlen also performed in a setting that resembled a sparkling cocktail party from the 30s or 40s—just the type of glittering gathering that Hart and his wife Kitty Carlisle were renowned for hosting. The elaborate set belongs to the recently opened Hart Play Act One, currently showing at the Vivian Beaumont. It was all quite delightful in just the way it should be.
But of course it is our beloved Mr. Colbert of whom you wish to hear. He appeared late in the evening, just before the finale, striding swiftly onstage from the audience; he still wore in his suit from the Report, which made him stand out from the other actors, all dressed in elegant black evening clothes. Tumultuous applause greeted him. Then, very simply, he began to read “Advice to Breathless Thespians,” a wonderful and witty commencement speech that Hart originally delivered in 1960 to the graduating class of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and later reprinted in the New York Times. It begins thus:
Listening to Stephen make his way through Hart’s “few rounds of private ammunition in the form of a handbook of behavior for everyday use in the theatre,” I could not help but imagine the young Mr. Colbert himself, graduating from Northwestern with dreams of performing. But Hart’s ammunition is not of the common kind offered to the average young graduate: he explains how to enter Sardi’s (the famed restaurant where Broadway casts await the first reviews of their shows) after a failure: “Do not, I beg you, enter gaily or laughingly. There is quite enough gallantry in the theatre without your adding to it. Remember, the people watching you enter are your fellow actors. You have read and enjoyed their bad notices. Give them a decent chance to enjoy yours …” Hart’s other words of wisdom concern how to present a letter of introduction, lie about your experience, and curry favor with the critics (“this is not as difficult as it may seem, their standards change alarmingly from season to season.) One sentence particularly about reviewers and their opinions struck me: “This year’s favorite is next year’s whipping boy, the reason being, of course, that they are notoriously unable to divorce the actor from the part he is playing.”
Part of me wonders: Does golden boy Stephen worry about becoming next year’s whipping boy when he takes his new position? Does he wonder if people will be unable — like Hart’s critics — to divorce the man from the part has played so well for so long? The fact that a great artist like Hart considered it impossible to avoid the ups and downs of theatrical life, and covered it with such wry amusement, must speak to Stephen. I felt there could be no more perfect piece for him, and I only wish that it had been taped. (Fingers crossed.) The thespians taking Hart’s advice might be breathless; I certainly held mine as I listened to Stephen deliver it so beautifully. After speaking the last words — “Remember, too, that in our own time the theatre has remained the last free forum of the arts, and know that you can walk proudly in the profession you have chosen” — he exited as swiftly as he had arrived, leaving the cast to finish with a reprise of the song, “Let’s Have Another Cup of Coffee.”
If you are a subscriber to The New York Times, you can access the archive and read the entire speech.
If I can find any other place that the article has been reprinted, I will let you know.
Meanwhile, you can also read a little bit more about the gala on Bloomberg. “Event ReporT: A Swell Party With Moss Hart And Friends”, out of 5 based on 2 ratings.