Finale: Late Conversations with Stephen Sondheim

I am fairly certain that this book, tiny as it is, is of interest only to people who are interested in the history of musical theater or history itself. Since it is my contention that Stephen Sondheim has left a legacy that will pare him with the likes of Mozart, Puccini, and Bernstein (though he’s better compared to J.S. Bach in regard to form and function) we can call him a master. We get to know as much about the author as we do about Sondheim who is very open and congenial throughout three or four different conversations. We also spend a little time with Meryl Streep, Paul Gemignani and his equally illustrious son Alex. Two of these interviews took place at Sondheim’s Turtle Bay townhouse (now on the market for 7.9 million) so we get intricate descriptions of his five story Manhattan home that he called “the house that Gypsy built.“ we also follow them to Sondheim’s Roxbury farm.Sondheim does talk a great deal about how he writes and we see how arduously hard the man has worked, carefully picking through his mind over every single note and word. But we also hear what Sondheim thinks about the near century in which he lived, and the culture and world around him. With the exception of his mother, Sondheim has nothing bad to say about anyone. When he finds fault with something, he blames himself for not being interested, rather than condemning something as substandard. In other words, he recognizes that if art exists, then it is important for somebody and that gives it value. In regard to Pop music, he has the most respect for rap because “it’s a modern day storytelling.”Stephen Sondheim was a private man, and really hated the spotlight despite the fact that his fame, and in particular his work, kept pushing him into it. This book isn’t for everyone, but if you’re reading this review, then I suspect that you already had an interest in Sondheim either as a fan or a scholar. I consider myself to be both, and I enjoyed the single day that I sat on my porch with lemonade and cigarettes, and the score to “Passion“ as I chewed through this book, as though it were a Sunday buffet at the four seasons hotel. We learn a greater deal about his new musical written with David Ives and the fact that the work glares at him and is difficult to do. He died before the show had more than a few readings but is scheduled to open this season. The last Sondheim show ever. Wait for the Tony Awards.The book is small, but robust at the same time. Of course I highly recommend it. To everyone. It’s rare that we get this close to a historic composer. May he rest in peace.

I devoured FINALE in a few hours one Saturday and enjoyed it overall. I share other reviewers' opinion that the author was woefully unprepared to do these interviews. How could he not know that Sondheim had compiled two volumes of lyrics and extensive notes on his shows? We might have been spared another retelling of how Jerome Robbins rescued FORUM from its disasterous previews. It IS a great story and deserves a place in theater history, but the iteration in FINALE adds no new detail to an account that Sondheim has given many times.The author adopts a conversational approach that oftens tells us more about his own life and opinions that we need to know. That casual approach can sometimes lead an interview subject to make interesting comments. I'm not extremely well-read in Sondheim literature, so there were a few things here that were new to me and that I enjoyed, like his account with Meryl Streep about the different forms of charades, thw two board games that Sondheim created, that he was a fan of "Breaking Bad," and that "The Catcher in the Rye" is the book he most enjoyed. A followup question about the novel would have been great, but there was none.And yet, I appreciated the glimpses of Sondheim approaching 90, however sad they are--the narrowing of the circle of his life, the passing of all his game-playing friends, his desire to be left alone, and his stalled work on the Bunuel project (forthcoming as HERE WE ARE). Now that this brilliant composer and lyric writer is gone, I'm grateful for any words of his that we have, and so I read FINALE avidly. So onto my Sondheim shelf it went.

It’s interesting, several other reviewers complained that D.T. Max didn’t really prepare to interview SS, I thought the same thing early in my reading of the book.But to me what makes this book an exceptionally terrific read are the kinds of discussions that SS and Max get into because SS is not an expert on Sondheim’s life or even music.Max - who is an accomplished and erudite writer - is continually trying to impress (or amuse!) SS with his own attempts to make a clever rhyme. SS makes clear that Max’s rhymes are inadequate. A different kind of interviewer wouldn’t have tried to do this and certainly wouldn’t have shared his own lame attempts at pleasing SS. But the back and forth is lovely - and most importantly - REVEALS more about Steven Sondheim.Similarly, when Max has pushed too far and Sondheim wants to end the interview process, we get to see how SS responds.In addition, the discussion of MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG between SS and Alex & Paul Gemignani, the father and son who each music directed MERRILY at different times is essential reading.There are obviously superb biographies to learn about SS’s entire life and career. And SS’s own “finishing the hat” series is wonderful and an important resource for creative artists.This is not the book for the person who is only going to read one book about Steven Sondheim. But for the ardent fan who revels in learning more about this great American artist, FINALE is a great. book.

I assume that the interviews were taped. That is why I chose the CDs over the book. However, the text is a reading by Keith Sellon-Wright and Christoher Grove. Shame, the original recordings would have been far more interesting. As for the interviews, whoever is reading this could have done better.

SPOILERS BELOW--This book is just awful on every level. It's less about Sondheim than the arrogance, igorance and obnoxiousness of a poseur cultural reporter named D.T. Max who barrages and shies Sondheim with stupid questions he should either know the answer to (his backstory, major highlights and details of his work and career), know NOT to ask (his feelings on Andrew Lloyd Webber, for example) and poorly crafted lyric parodies. Finally, Sondheim explodes at the dunce-- and thank god for that. And thank god Steve died before he could read the final page of Max's putrid pamphlet-- another awful lyric parody of "Marry Me a Little."Not that Sondheim comes across any better, but in his case, it's not his fault that he's cranky and unhappy. He's in his late-eighties, feeling his age, and struggling to finish what will be his last score. (It seems likely that at least SOME of that work will see the light of day.) But it's upsetting to see an artistic hero in the throws of old age and insecurity, and it makes for unpleasant reading-- even without dumb D.T. Max hanging around.Typical New Yorker arts and culture reporter-- a poseur who thinks he's smarter and more insightful and more important than everyone else, including his subject, when really he's just an idiot with his head so far up his own rear-end he's gotten used to the smell and thinks it's delightful. Adam Gopnick, anyone?Avoid this one, and stick with Mark Horowitz's incredibly informed, respectfully loving, and always interesting perennial, SONDHEIM ON MUSIC if you're looking for a Sondheim interview book. Steve was in better humor then, too.