Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (35 page)

        
I’ll call you Tuesday.

        
Love to you and Roz.

Always,

Alan

The letter is an excellent interface with Lerner’s strategic thinking about his projects (even if his ideas didn’t always work). While finishing two movie projects, he managed to complete most of the writing on
Coco
, hold meetings with his designer, pursue the logistics of using new technology in the show, talk to the person who could approve the financial implications of using such technology (i.e., Bluhdorn), and convey all of this to the producer, as well as prompting him to track down Hepburn.

    
In February 1969, Lerner celebrated his twenty-fifth year in show business with a benefit dinner at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.
⁵⁰
Filming of
Clear Day
continued in America throughout the first few months of the year, and the
troublesome movie of
Paint Your Wagon
reached completion, way over schedule and over budget. With these problems to contend with, Lerner struggled to give Hepburn enough attention on
Coco
. He also spent time and effort on the “Laterna Magika” film material for use in the show’s flashback scenes. Again, he had to write to the actress to beg her patience during this busy time, after receiving an angry phone call from her:

    
To Katharine Hepburn

    
May 10, 1969

    
Dear Kate,

    
I am dictating this on the phone to New York before catching the plane.

        
You have been poisoned with such an unfortunate idea of me that any minor change in schedule, even for the most pertinent reason, immediately becomes proof positive of my undependable character. The fact is,
no
change in schedule is ever frivolous with me, and certainly not this one.

        
As you know, I came out here with the Texan and the Czech to work on the film section of
Coco
. The Texan revealed himself to be a lunatic, and I had to get rid of both of them. Since then I have been researching other processes, preparing a preliminary budget, and discussing additional financing with Paramount. Yesterday afternoon was devoted to a full scale meeting on the publication and recording of the
Coco
score.

        
I intended returning Thursday night but was under the impression that you were going away for the weekend. Yesterday I found out that you were staying in town, and this morning I got my eardrum punctured. I was only calling to say I was returning tonight.

        
I have since spoken with Freddie, who tells me you were expecting me for a meeting. I had no idea a meeting had been planned.

        
Kate, I have been working on this project for three years. It is far and away the most important thing in my professional life and I love it. I also adore you and I’m devoted to you, whether you do the play or not, and even though at times I could kill you (primarily because you could kill me). But I wish you would stop thinking of me as some kind of irresponsible, undisciplined will-of-the-wisp, and please, please, don’t torpedo this venture for reasons that may not be right.

        
I’m in great shape to get on an airplane, and I’ll probably land a couple of hours ahead of the plane…what more do you want? At least that’s something, isn’t it? Dear, dear Kate…please!

Yours through thick,

Alan

Normally, Lerner wrote deferentially to colleagues who were annoyed with him, but here his frankness further illustrates the candor (and thereby affection) of his relationship with Hepburn.

    
August brought the announcement of the opening night of
Coco
, now set for December. The theater was to be the Mark Hellinger, as Lerner had hoped all those years before, and because of the elaborate set, the show would preview for four weeks in New York, rather than undergoing out-of-town tryouts.
⁵¹
Talking to the
New York Times
at the first rehearsal on October 13, Lerner commented that the piece was “all about people who work in fashion, about the creation of elegance,” and, more specifically, “an independent woman who refuses to compromise. Not only did she create the uniform for the emancipated woman, but she is, I suppose, the most emancipated woman I’ve ever met. She doesn’t feel any less womanly not being married or not having children.”
⁵²
The writer also compared Chanel to Hepburn herself: “In her life, she too has been a very independent woman. An independent woman in every sense of the word. They’re both career women, but they’ve never lost one ounce of femininity. They’re intensely feminine women. What was that Chanel said to me? ‘There’s no future for a woman trying to be a man.’” In these ways, the musical was perhaps more heavily influenced by Lerner’s personal encounters with Chanel than might be assumed, which in turn inspired the casting of the strong Hepburn rather than the softer Russell.

    
Mel Gussow’s article further described the rehearsal: “As the show’s musical director, Robert Emmett Dolan, played the piano, Mr. Lerner sang the score, beginning with ‘Turn on the Lights’ [which was later cut]. Seventeen songs later, Miss Hepburn stood in for Mr. Lerner and sang the last song, one of the seven she has in the score.” Once more, Lerner had to juggle several projects at the same time. Three days into rehearsals for
Coco, Paint Your Wagon
had its premiere. As was the case with most of his musicals in the 1960s, the reviews were very mixed, not least because the cast (including Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood, and Jean Seberg) were not typical musical theater figures, but the $20 million budget had at least guaranteed a lavish affair.
⁵³
It further struggled with having been given an “M” (“Mature,” i.e., suggested for mature audiences only) rating by the Motion Picture Associations Code and Rating Administration, rather than “G” for “General,” thereby reducing the potential size of the audience.
⁵⁴

    
Similarly, when
Coco
opened on Broadway on December 18, the critical reaction was variable. Rehearsals had been difficult on all fronts, with particular tension between Lerner and Beaton, who blamed Lerner for all the show’s weaknesses. The following letter from the lyricist hints at the tense backstage atmosphere:

    
To Cecil Beaton

    
4 December 1969

    
The idea that I would blame a poor matinee on the hats is an amusing conceit, but not mine.
That
ridiculous I am not.

        
I have a sad, fleeting feeling that when at last the work is finished and the show has opened, I’m going to discover that I’m deeply hurt by your mystifying attitude toward me on this show. For the moment, all I can care about is trying to make the show as good as possible—and I need your help—with enthusiasm or without. But believe me, I’m not a blame-dodger.

Aye,

Alan

Eventually, the pair put this behind them, but Beaton was to suffer almost as much as Lerner on
Coco
, since his designs were negatively compared to Chanel’s own. Clive Barnes in the
New York Times
was particularly vicious, saying, “Mr. Beaton has never struck me as a particularly accomplished designer—although his dresses were often pretty—and nothing in
Coco
causes me to revise that opinion.…The time is meant to be 1954, but the costumes did not seem appropriate to either the time or the place.”
⁵⁵
On the other hand, he admitted, “The show has two great things going for it. One is the well-scrubbed and gallant radiance of Katharine Hepburn. I adored her through everything. The other is the occasionally acerbic wit and even occasional wisdom of Alan Jay Lerner’s book.” The writer must have been delighted to have come out of the stress with such praise.

    
Undaunted by the mixed reviews, Lerner and the cast proceeded to make an album of the show. It was common to make changes to musicals before committing them to record, and in this brief note to Hepburn we can see the kinds of decisions this involved:

    
To Katharine Hepburn

    
[Undated; early January 1970, preceding
Coco
recording]

    
Kate dear,

    
I have been examining the dialogue surrounding “Gabrielle” and leading into “Coco.” I think much of it could be tightened, and that it is too much for a record. But at this point I wouldn’t tighten my belt if my pants were falling off. Therefore, I suggest you do it exactly as it is, with the possible exception of condensing the opening speech as indicated below. In any event, I will be there when you record it, providing my tailor can get my suit of armor ready in time.

        
With it all, I love you dearly, which shows two things:

        
1. I have taste

        
2. I am also a masochist

Aye,

Alan

    
COCO

        
My father was a champagne salesman. I adored him and I lived for his occasional visit. Six weeks before my first communion, he came for the afternoon. I pleaded with him to take me away with him.

In the following letter, the album has by now been recorded, and the increased warmth of affection from Lerner to Hepburn is noticeable in comparison to their early encounters:

    
To Katharine Hepburn

    
[Undated; c.January 1970]

    
Dearest Kate,

    
Here are the tapes—with some technical imperfections which, of course, won’t be on the finished product.

        
YOU ARE MARVELOUS! All the excitement and the emotion that is on the stage somehow leaps out at you. It’s really a tingling performance and everybody who has heard it is jubilant—including me.

        
Because of the time problem, the dialogue sequence between “Gabrielle” and “Coco,” therefore in “Gabrielle” itself, had to be omitted. I assure you that good as it was, it is not needed in order to get the full impact of the number; and although the decision was not made by me, I fully endorse it.

        
You will notice an imperfection at the end of “Always Mademoiselle,” but that is an imperfection in the tape, not the recording. It’s really a thrilling performance and if you stick with it I think you’ve got a hell of a future.

        
And speaking of the future and the new year, all the happiness this world can offer will fall far short of what I wish for you. Bless you, bless you, bless you!

Always,

Alan

    
Lerner also found time to write a letter to one of his idols, Irving Berlin, thereby beginning an infrequent but tender correspondence that shows once again how much he respected and loved the writers of his youth. In this letter, reference is made to a “book,” which was a bound collection of Berlin’s complete published song sheets. He sent copies of this collection to a number of his favorite songwriters, and Lerner’s copy became one of his most treasured possessions. The letter also alludes to a portrait Berlin painted of Barbra Streisand during
On a Clear Day
:

    
To Irving Berlin

    
January 5, 1970

    
Dear Irving,

    
If anyone wondered if I had any hobbies, and looked through my desk, I think he would decide that I am a collector of unfinished letters to you. Your kindness and generosity to me over the last year has touched me so deeply that every letter I started to write seemed inadequate, and I put it away “for-when-I-had-more-time.” I finally have more time, but I feel just as inadequate.

        
To begin with, that book! I opened the package late one night, not knowing its contents, and as I began to flip through the pages I found myself crying. The quantity—the quality—and that you should have sent me a copy in the first place! Any time anyone in our profession, or in any profession, needs a bit of humbling, he ought to take a look at that book. The volume of your work staggers the mind as much as it moves the heart, and I thank you from the bottom of mine for sending it to me.

        
The painting of Barbra is a sheer delight. I love having it. I had no idea you dipped the brush.

        
Now that
Coco
has opened, I am anxious for you to come and see it and to hear what you think. As you know, the critics were less than cordial, and André and I came off like two white cops in a Watts riot. I think André wrote a lovely score, but he damaged himself with the orchestrations. Although he didn’t do them, he supervised them. In any event, the score certainly sounds better on the album, which I will send you as soon as it comes in.