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‘The Music Man,’ Race and Broadway ‘The Music Man,’ Race and Broadway
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I want to revisit the issue of modern theater and whiteness these days. Space didn’t allow me to specify in last week’s newsletter that my thoughts on it have been influenced by the shows I have taken in of late.I want to revisit the issue of modern theater and whiteness these days. Space didn’t allow me to specify in last week’s newsletter that my thoughts on it have been influenced by the shows I have taken in of late.
An example is the current revival of “The Music Man.” It’s a show that thoroughly deserves, on its face, a charge that it is just #SoWhite. It really is so very white. It’s about white people in a small, white town in Iowa in the white 1910s. It was created by a white man, the composer and conductor Meredith Willson, and the original cast in 1957 was very, very white.An example is the current revival of “The Music Man.” It’s a show that thoroughly deserves, on its face, a charge that it is just #SoWhite. It really is so very white. It’s about white people in a small, white town in Iowa in the white 1910s. It was created by a white man, the composer and conductor Meredith Willson, and the original cast in 1957 was very, very white.
There’s more to “The Music Man” than all of that, though, and I’ll get to it in a moment. But first, this current production says something about where Broadway is on race in that there are lots of Black people in the cast of the revival.There’s more to “The Music Man” than all of that, though, and I’ll get to it in a moment. But first, this current production says something about where Broadway is on race in that there are lots of Black people in the cast of the revival.
Not just as anonymous chorus members. Not just as one of the barbershop quartet guys, as has been common for a while. Now even one of the quartet of gossipy matrons — who serve as a kind of Greek chorus of townster opinion — is Black (and has an actual, full, flowery name in the script), as well as one of the leaders in the opening train number. I never knew until now that the line “He’s just a bang beat, bell-ringing, big haul, great go, neck or nothin’, rip roarin’, every time a bull’s-eye salesman!” could sound as Black as it does in this production, complete with a bit of trash-talking body language. And the mayor’s daughter is played by Emma Crow, who is also Black and is a fantastic dancer. A generation ago, this woman, too young to be a background chorus matron, wouldn’t have been cast in a “Music Man” production at all.Not just as anonymous chorus members. Not just as one of the barbershop quartet guys, as has been common for a while. Now even one of the quartet of gossipy matrons — who serve as a kind of Greek chorus of townster opinion — is Black (and has an actual, full, flowery name in the script), as well as one of the leaders in the opening train number. I never knew until now that the line “He’s just a bang beat, bell-ringing, big haul, great go, neck or nothin’, rip roarin’, every time a bull’s-eye salesman!” could sound as Black as it does in this production, complete with a bit of trash-talking body language. And the mayor’s daughter is played by Emma Crow, who is also Black and is a fantastic dancer. A generation ago, this woman, too young to be a background chorus matron, wouldn’t have been cast in a “Music Man” production at all.
All of this contrasts with what could be seen as an initial crack in the plaster in productions of this show not too long ago. The last time “The Music Man” was on Broadway was in 2000, and in it, a Black actor was cast as one of the wandering barbershop quartet members. Corresponding to that, a Black actress was cast as the female protagonist Marian Paroo’s piano student Amaryllis, the idea being that Amaryllis was the Black quartet member’s daughter.All of this contrasts with what could be seen as an initial crack in the plaster in productions of this show not too long ago. The last time “The Music Man” was on Broadway was in 2000, and in it, a Black actor was cast as one of the wandering barbershop quartet members. Corresponding to that, a Black actress was cast as the female protagonist Marian Paroo’s piano student Amaryllis, the idea being that Amaryllis was the Black quartet member’s daughter.
This was a nice start, and I’ve been told that it became a common casting tradition in regional productions of “The Music Man” after that, one of which I saw some years ago. But the tendency was to cast a Black man as the bass in the quartet, with mostly white audiences thrilled, as they seem to be, by Black men with deep singing voices. That is certainly the case in the current revival, where mostly white audiences are all atwitter whenever Phillip Boykin hits one of his low notes. (They also liked it when he did the same thing beauteously in the opening number of the recent-ish revival of “On the Town.”) And for whatever it’s worth, he does have some seriously swell resonance.This was a nice start, and I’ve been told that it became a common casting tradition in regional productions of “The Music Man” after that, one of which I saw some years ago. But the tendency was to cast a Black man as the bass in the quartet, with mostly white audiences thrilled, as they seem to be, by Black men with deep singing voices. That is certainly the case in the current revival, where mostly white audiences are all atwitter whenever Phillip Boykin hits one of his low notes. (They also liked it when he did the same thing beauteously in the opening number of the recent-ish revival of “On the Town.”) And for whatever it’s worth, he does have some seriously swell resonance.
But in this production, Boykin is one of many Black cast members, such that Blackness becomes more than any cartoonish notion of African-esque masculinity. We have moved on. In this production of “The Music Man,” Black people just are. To such an extent that while Amaryllis’s father is Black (as is suggested by some stage business), the actress playing Amaryllis, Emily Hoder, is white.But in this production, Boykin is one of many Black cast members, such that Blackness becomes more than any cartoonish notion of African-esque masculinity. We have moved on. In this production of “The Music Man,” Black people just are. To such an extent that while Amaryllis’s father is Black (as is suggested by some stage business), the actress playing Amaryllis, Emily Hoder, is white.
Watching the Black actors in this revival making their living, I recalled a party I attended in New York City in 1988 where I met some seasoned Black musical theater actors, among whom the joke was how all of them had lost count of how many times they had been in local productions of the Fats Waller jukebox revue “Ain’t Misbehavin’,” and how slim the pickings tended to be otherwise. On Broadway at the time, if you weren’t lucky enough to be in the small cast of August Wilson’s “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone” or the gospel concert as musical “The Gospel at Colonus,” “Black Broadway” pretty much meant — besides, yes, a Broadway revival of “Ain’t Misbehavin’” cast with the five original players — that there were two Black chorus members in a revival of “Anything Goes,” and that was processed as progressive. And the actors, a man and a woman, only danced with each other, though I heard at the time that when asked about it they said they liked it that way because they had danced together in other shows. Watching the Black actors in this revival making their living, I recalled a party I attended in New York City in 1988 where I met some seasoned Black musical theater actors, among whom the joke was how all of them had lost count of how many times they had been in local productions of the Fats Waller jukebox revue “Ain’t Misbehavin’” and how slim the pickings tended to be otherwise. On Broadway at the time, if you weren’t lucky enough to be in the small cast of August Wilson’s “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone” or the gospel concert as musical “The Gospel at Colonus,” “Black Broadway” pretty much meant — besides, yes, a Broadway revival of “Ain’t Misbehavin’” cast with the five original players — that there were two Black chorus members in a revival of “Anything Goes,” and that was processed as progressive. And the actors, a man and a woman, danced only with each other, though I heard at the time that when asked about it, they said they liked it that way because they had danced together in other shows.
Their modern equivalents certainly have their complaints, but they wouldn’t be anything like those I heard at that party. This production of “The Music Man” is a demonstration. The same year of that party I saw a version of “The Music Man” at City Opera with, as far as I can remember (in addition to a grievously miscast Bob Gunton as Harold Hill), not a single Black person in it. Their modern equivalents certainly have their complaints, but they wouldn’t be anything like those I heard at that party. This production of “The Music Man” is a demonstration. The same year of that party, I saw a version of “The Music Man” at City Opera with, as far as I can remember (in addition to a grievously miscast Bob Gunton as Harold Hill), not a single Black person in it.
Yet from what I see and read in sources such as the We See You, White American Theater manifesto I mentioned last week, from the general idea that theater must submit to a certain kind of reckoning on race, and from some takes on modern Broadway from younger critics of late, I imagine that some might say a “Music Man” with lots of Black cast members denies the bigotry and even the violence against Black people that was typical in the milieu — again, Iowa in the 1910s — in which it is set. Yet from what I see and read in sources such as the We See You, White American Theater, manifesto I mentioned last week, from the general idea that theater must submit to a certain kind of reckoning on race and from some takes on modern Broadway from younger critics of late, I imagine that some might say a “Music Man” with lots of Black cast members denies the bigotry and even the violence against Black people that was typical in the milieu — again, Iowa in the 1910s — in which it is set.
And it is true that in those years (and before and for a while after), Black sections of towns in the Midwest and the South were being torched by white mobs as people like the ones in “The Music Man” stood by watching. Lynching was still ordinary. Black people were not living in burgherly harmony with whites as if race didn’t matter.And it is true that in those years (and before and for a while after), Black sections of towns in the Midwest and the South were being torched by white mobs as people like the ones in “The Music Man” stood by watching. Lynching was still ordinary. Black people were not living in burgherly harmony with whites as if race didn’t matter.
In this current “Music Man,” casting is seriously race-blind — all performers, regardless of race, are just playing people. Or perhaps white people? To some, this will look like a lie set to music. In real life, Black people in towns like the fictional River City, if there were any, occupied their own separate world. There were no interracial barbershop quartets and sewing circles, the mayor’s daughter was the same race as he was, and often all it took was a spark of misunderstanding for a race riot to ravage countless Black lives in an afternoon.In this current “Music Man,” casting is seriously race-blind — all performers, regardless of race, are just playing people. Or perhaps white people? To some, this will look like a lie set to music. In real life, Black people in towns like the fictional River City, if there were any, occupied their own separate world. There were no interracial barbershop quartets and sewing circles, the mayor’s daughter was the same race as he was, and often all it took was a spark of misunderstanding for a race riot to ravage countless Black lives in an afternoon.
So, to reckon with that reality, perhaps truly progressive theater is that which focuses on Black people either suffering that violence or dealing with its later legacies now. That means that theater should be therapeutic rather than diverting — and that is hardly a dismissible proposition in itself. It isn’t too far from what Plato suggested in “The Republic.” But here’s the thing: Broadway — if I may be allowed the stretch of pretending it represents American theater in its entirety — currently offers a great deal of this reckoning and therapy on race. So, to reckon with that reality, perhaps truly progressive theater is that which focuses on Black people either suffering that violence or dealing with its legacies now. That means that theater should be therapeutic rather than diverting — and that is hardly a dismissible proposition in itself. It isn’t too far from what Plato suggested in “The Republic.” But here’s the thing: Broadway — if I may be allowed the stretch of pretending it represents American theater in its entirety — currently offers a great deal of this reckoning and therapy on race.
As I write, in New York we can take in a revival of August Wilson’s “The Piano Lesson,” which won a Pulitzer in 1990. Suzan Lori-Parks’s “Topdog/Underdog” is back after 20 years. “Ain’t No Mo’” explores what would happen if Black people were sent back to Africa. “A Strange Loop” is a musical about a gay Black man’s pathway to writing a musical about a gay Black man writing a musical. And we can also take in Arthur Miller’s exploration of the American dream, “The Death of a Salesman,” rendered through the blackness of Wendell Pierce, Sharon D. Clarke and André De Shields.As I write, in New York we can take in a revival of August Wilson’s “The Piano Lesson,” which won a Pulitzer in 1990. Suzan Lori-Parks’s “Topdog/Underdog” is back after 20 years. “Ain’t No Mo’” explores what would happen if Black people were sent back to Africa. “A Strange Loop” is a musical about a gay Black man’s pathway to writing a musical about a gay Black man writing a musical. And we can also take in Arthur Miller’s exploration of the American dream, “The Death of a Salesman,” rendered through the blackness of Wendell Pierce, Sharon D. Clarke and André De Shields.
So a case that Broadway doesn’t get Black pain is, lately, fragile. But I worry still, about an argument of a sort one hears from certain quarters, that a piece like “The Music Man” should be dismissed as obsolete, that it should not play alongside “The Piano Lesson” but should be consigned to the dustbin of history. That makes me think of my January clapback against the young critics who think the original “West Side Story” is a dismissible antique. So a case that Broadway doesn’t get Black pain is, lately, fragile. But I worry, still, about an argument of a sort one hears from certain quarters that a piece like “The Music Man” should be dismissed as obsolete, that it should not play alongside “The Piano Lesson” but should be consigned to the dustbin of history. That makes me think of my January clapback against the young critics who think the original “West Side Story” is a dismissible antique.
Shouldn’t our theater be about people of our time working through what the past did to them and moving on into a dynamic present? Well, yes — to an extent. But I assume we can do two things at once. We can acknowledge historical injustice, while also enjoying what was uplifting and exemplary, in a sense that artistically transcends specific injustices. Shouldn’t our theater be about people of our time working through what the past did to them and moving on into a dynamic present? Well, yes — to an extent. But I assume we can do two things at once. We can acknowledge historical injustice while enjoying what was uplifting and exemplary in a sense that artistically transcends specific injustices.
Now, one reasonably might ask just what the art is in “The Music Man.” And the answer is that there is quite a bit. The script and lyrics channel the nuances of human speech gorgeously, and I cannot help referring you to a recent episode of my language podcast “Lexicon Valley” where I explain how. Then I invite all but professional pianists to try playing the original dance music of “Shipoopi” from the piano-vocal score. It offers the same challenge in places as the late work of Scott Joplin — and remember, ragtime was invented by Black people. Or: If you were writing a musical about a flimflam man coming to a small town to snooker the rubes into buying band instruments, how would you begin it? I am quite sure I wouldn’t think of having a bunch of salesmen in a train car talking about the flimflam man, much less actually rapping it rather than singing — and especially in 1957! This is serious creativity. It’s art. It should not molder in archives. There’s a reason it’s still regularly performed over 60 years after its debut, and nothing about the latest reflexes of modernity justifies silencing it.Now, one reasonably might ask just what the art is in “The Music Man.” And the answer is that there is quite a bit. The script and lyrics channel the nuances of human speech gorgeously, and I cannot help referring you to a recent episode of my language podcast “Lexicon Valley” where I explain how. Then I invite all but professional pianists to try playing the original dance music of “Shipoopi” from the piano-vocal score. It offers the same challenge in places as the late work of Scott Joplin — and remember, ragtime was invented by Black people. Or: If you were writing a musical about a flimflam man coming to a small town to snooker the rubes into buying band instruments, how would you begin it? I am quite sure I wouldn’t think of having a bunch of salesmen in a train car talking about the flimflam man, much less actually rapping it rather than singing — and especially in 1957! This is serious creativity. It’s art. It should not molder in archives. There’s a reason it’s still regularly performed over 60 years after its debut, and nothing about the latest reflexes of modernity justifies silencing it.
Make no mistake: “The Piano Lesson” is key theater. The current revival could stop to breathe a bit more here and there, but it is a solid and arresting rendition of the property. “The Music Man,” retrofitted somewhat to allow a representative array of talented people to do their work, is key as well to a healthy American theater culture. We need, to wit, both Meredith Willson and August Wilson.Make no mistake: “The Piano Lesson” is key theater. The current revival could stop to breathe a bit more here and there, but it is a solid and arresting rendition of the property. “The Music Man,” retrofitted somewhat to allow a representative array of talented people to do their work, is key as well to a healthy American theater culture. We need, to wit, both Meredith Willson and August Wilson.
John McWhorter (@JohnHMcWhorter) is an associate professor of linguistics at Columbia University. He is the author of “Nine Nasty Words: English in the Gutter: Then, Now, and Forever” and, most recently, “Woke Racism.”John McWhorter (@JohnHMcWhorter) is an associate professor of linguistics at Columbia University. He is the author of “Nine Nasty Words: English in the Gutter: Then, Now, and Forever” and, most recently, “Woke Racism.”