Susan Stroman - Playing in the Major Leagues!
Susan Stroman was not wearing her customary black baseball cap when she welcomed me at the doorway of her Manhattan apartment. Instead, her shoulder-length blond hair fell loosely around her face offering a glamorous perception of this very successful female director/choreographer. "I have never seen you without a cap," I noted. "Nothing like a basic black cap," she answered, smiling. "I often need it to keep the hair out of my face and the glare of fluorescent lights out of my eyes when I work in the studio, or I can pull the brim down to hide my eyes when I am deep in thought."
From L to R: Roger Bart, Susan Stroman, Shuler Hensley rehearsing Puttin'on the Ritz from "Young Frankenstein". Photo: Paul Kolnik
I was immediately reminded of Joe Torre, manager of the New York Yankees, sitting in the dugout for the endless hours of summer, staring out from under the brim of his cap. Divided by age and gender, one working out of doors; one inside a studio, both must rely heavily on an inspiring sixth sense to manage creatively the finely tuned athletes who work for them. Both must shoulder enormous financial as well as imaginative responsibility in their respective work arenas, and both are extremely successful doing it.
Stroman has gained her success through a combination of ambition, hard work, talent, and some on-the-mark risk-taking. Her ascent from dancing in the chorus as "Hunyak," the poor Hungarian who hangs herself in the Cook County jail in the national company of "Chicago," to the choreographer/director who is currently rehearsing the new Mel Brooks musical, "Young Frankenstein," has been steady and focused. With strong dance training in her early years and a good deal of performing experience behind her, she was ready to take a forward step.
This occurred in 1987 when Stroman's good friend Scott Ellis was performing in "The Rink" at the same time that she was protesting her innocence nightly on stage in "Chicago." They met for an after show dinner. Both wanted to move on from the ensemble to the other side of the footlights and believed they could do it together. They decided on a plan. Why not ask the composers, Kander and Ebb (whom they knew from their respective careers), if they could have the rights to one of their past hits, "Flora The Red Menace," to produce at a small theatre off-Broadway? Ellis would direct, and Stroman would choreograph. To their surprise and delight, the composers said "yes."
Stroman with writer John Weidman during "Contact" rehearsals
They gathered another good friend, David Thompson to write the book, and opened "Flora" downtown at the Vineyard Theater in Greenwich Village. "Maybe we made 300 dollars for the whole enterprise," Stroman reflected, "but it came to have a cult following and many prominent industry people, including Hal Prince, came to see it." It was then Stroman began to realize that choreography was what she really wanted to do. "It was important to take this step forward with "Flora' because I had no credentials. I couldn't just tell producers; 'Hey, can I do your show?'"
After "Flora" opportunities came quickly. Stroman choreographed Kander and Ebb's "Steel Pier," a musical for Broadway that had a relatively short run. When director Mike Ockrent went looking for a choreographer for "Crazy For You," Stroman was eager to take it on. The music was Gershwin, and here was her first experience with estate control of material. "Working on revivals is tricky because usually the composers are deceased, and the estates take charge," she noted. "Fortunately, it did not create a problem with this show, and the estate allowed me to open up 'I've Got Rhythm' to include a 12-minute dance piece." The show had a priceless score pieced seamlessly together by Ockrent. He and Stroman were married in 1996, and winning the 1992 Tony for best musical was sweet reward for them.
Following the huge success of "Crazy For You" came offers to stage three of the greatest revivals in musical history; "Showboat," "Oklahoma," and "Music Man." "The estates for these shows were also very obliging," Stroman admitted. "They allowed me to create montages to show the passing of time in 'Showboat' and revise the music to create my own dream ballet sequence in 'Oklahoma.' I feel strongly I must treat a revival as a new piece, otherwise why would I do it? I am not hired to recreate someone else's choreography whereas some choreographers are hired to do just that as in 'A Chorus Line,' originally choreographed by Michael Bennett. But I want to treat a revival as a fresh new project. Do the research as to time period, including appropriate dances, costumes, social conditions, geographical area, and take all these elements to help me frame the story which is, for me, the most important element in choreography. But what I really love the most is a new work with a great story."
Enter "Contact!" Andre Bishop, president of Lincoln Center, had come to Stroman to ask her if she had an idea she would like to develop to mount in the intimate Mitzi Newhouse Theater at Lincoln Center. "I was stunned," she recalled. "It is not often that a producer comes to you and says, 'Here's my theatre, do what you want. We won't look at it for four weeks.' They let me hire 16 dancers, gave me the basement rehearsal space at the Newhouse, and we went to work."
Together with writer John Weidman, Stroman created a story about contact, and how truly difficult it is for some people to connect. "I had visited a downtown pool hall that became a dance hall after midnight," Stroman said, beginning to unfold the strong motivations that led to the creation of this landmark theater piece. "The night I was there I watched a sea of dancers dressed in black crowded on the floor. There was one girl in a yellow dress who danced only when she wanted to and only with whom she wanted. I kept thinking about her. This girl is going to change someone's life tonight. I just knew it."
When Bishop made his offer in the late summer of 1999, the pool hall idea clicked into place. Boyd Gaines signed on to play a suicidal Michael Wiley, a rich and successful creator of television commercials, surrounded by a slew of rowdy, hanger-on friends, but with no real emotional connection to anyone. In desperation he joins them at a dance hall, and is mesmerized by a girl in a yellow dress. "It was about a man who, if he did not make contact that night, would die. When Andre came to see it he was very enthusiastic and asked if I had more ideas to make it a full evening theater work." Stroman didn't hesitate. "Of course, I said."
She added an opening segment based on her favorite Fragonard painting about people who have no trouble making contact, in fact make too many. The second piece was about a relationship where the wife cannot make contact with an abusive husband and survives on her dreams. "The dancers in the pool hall segment had to be individuals," she emphasized, "exuding sensuality and the ability to make the audience feel they, too, were at a dance club, not in a theater." Whereas in other productions I might have cast a similar look, say a 'women of the prairie' type for 'Oklahoma,' for 'Contact' each dancer had to have an original look."
"Contact" became a huge success, moving to the Vivian Beaumont, and after being reclassified as a musical won the 2000 Tony for Stroman as choreographer. It ran for almost three years. The excitement for Stroman was tempered by the death of her husband, Ockrent, who had lost his battle with leukemia the year before. He had been slated to direct the next big project with her, a musical version of the film "The Producers." Mel Brooks decided to go with Stroman as director/choreographer.
The cool and sophisticated Stroman teaming up with the over the top Jewish writer/comedian and "one-hundred-year-old man," Mel Brooks, seemed like a twosome concocted in someone's wild imagination. But instead, these two became one of the hottest collaborations in Broadway history. "The Producers" had been Brooks' classic movie and was now about to be set to music and dance. Stroman was grateful for the opportunity to be around the madcap cast and crew, her spirits considerably lifted by them. All she had to do was stop laughing long enough to get some work done.
In this show, Stroman went looking for dancers who could tell a joke. "Yes, the women had to be tall, leggy showgirl types, (and goose-step in precision for 'Springtime for Hitler') but they also had to have a sense of humor." Will anyone ever forget those dancers in gray wigs stooped over walkers that were used as props performing some of the most intricate choreography to be staged on Broadway? "If the dancers got through all the technical aspects," Stroman said, "the tapping and a good sense of ballet, then at the final call, they had to tell a joke. I love a sense of humor and was looking for that at the audition. The show needed it. I like to work with people who have a fearless quality. Get up there and tell a joke; if it's a dud - so what. And besides," she added, "I was collecting a lot of material for myself to use at boring dinners."
Following "The Producers" Stroman took on another challenge this time in classical ballet when Peter Martins proposed that she choreograph a full evening piece for the New York City Ballet. She was both flattered and eager to go. The result was "Double Feature, "a two-part ballet, the first being a darker Cinderella story, the second a take-off on silent movies. "Of course, the dancers were magnificent, and I had complete freedom to create what I wanted," she said, "though I do think at first the younger dancers questioned why a theater person had been brought in to choreograph for a ballet company. I love learning from new media, and the dancers came around to my way of thinking and gave it their best shot." "Double Feature" was extremely successful for City Ballet, so much so that it will be recalled for the winter season of '08.
"Young Frankenstein," a new musical by Mel Brooks and directed and choreographed by Stroman is now previewing in Seattle. "Transvylvania Mania," for which she has had to do her homework on Transylvanian and Romanian folk dances, and the classic "Puttin' On The Ritz" are two big production numbers. She is already giggling as she relates how every rehearsal is full of surprises and funnier than the one before. A new idea, sure to be a laugh hit, was born and presented by Brooks one morning when he arrived at rehearsal. "It had to do with Junior visiting his family in Transylvania and his grandfather suggesting he join the family business," Stroman related, rolling her eyes heavenward. "It will be a crazy big production number with all the versions of mad scientists. Think ancestors - hair standing straight on end, thick glasses-- any image we can conjure up."
Tickets for "Young Frankenstein" are already scarce and word of mouth is echoing that Stroman and Brooks have done it again.
Susan Stroman is now an international name in the musical theater and ballet world. And she is a woman - albeit glamorous and sophisticated - who has achieved what only a handful of women can aspire to achieve in a business still predominantly dominated by men. To call her a trend-setter or a ground-breaker is to negate her enormous talent to make dances, move people around the stage, keep intricate personalities in the same room on an even keel, and produce work that audiences will pay top dollar to see and applaud. She took a risk way back asking for the rights to restage "Flora," and it proved to be the beginning. "Always ask yourself the question," Stroman declared, pausing to emphasize her point: "What do I have to lose? It's either yes or no, but it is vitally important for young people to take the chance."