Written Response History of Broadway

Fancy Free

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So what does Fancy Free have to do with Broadway? Well, the story—three World War II sailors on a one day leave for the first time in New York City—the dancing and the music were later expanded to become On the Town (1944).

On the Town also included a dream ballet, in which sailor Gabey falls asleep on the subway and meets up with Miss Turnstiles.

As mentioned earlier, female characters were stronger in the 1940s. On the Town featured three strong female leads. It was the quintessential American show.

Robbins continued to choreograph for Ballet Theatre, creating a diverse array of ballets, while simultaneously forging ahead with Broadway stage projects. Jerome Robbins collaborated with some of the most well-known and successful composers, directors and lyricists, yet for show after show, it was Robbins’ choreography that received critical attention.

Billion Dollar Baby (1945)

Billion Dollar Baby was a “satire of the excesses of the 1920s, with its prohibition and bathtub gin, marathon dances, beauty contests at Atlantic City, and gangster killings—the era of the underworld and the bull market that would culminate in the Great Depression” Long, 2003, p. 77). The show included a comedy ballet called “Charleston” and a big production number in which the showgirls impersonated birds. Like many musicals of the time, it also included a dream ballet, “Life with Rocky,” in which the heroine, Maribel, envisioned her life with a member of the mob (Long, 2002).

Abbott and Robbins were singled out for praise. For Robbins, it was a learning experience. In preparing the dances he had to know earlier period styles, and from that point forward he was fanatical about doing in-depth research into the backgrounds of his shows. “I went to the Museum of Modern Art and looked at all possible movies of the period to find out what the people wore, thought, felt, said… I wanted my dances to portray the kind of people who were typical of the time” (Robbins, cited in Long, 2002, p. 77).

High Button Shoes (1947)

High Button Shoes was set in New Brunswick, New Jersey, in the year 1913. Robbins’ dances included a soft shoe, “I Still Get Jealous” and a polka “Papa Won’t You Dance with me?” as well as a "Charleston".But the great number in the show, and one of the most celebrated pieces in Robbins’s stage work, was his “On a Sunday by the Sea” sequence, often called the “Mack Sennett Ballet.” [Sennett was a silent movie director who often incorporated comic chase scenes.] It was inspired by the fact that Atlantic City in 1913 was the very time and setting of Sennett’s silent comedies, often involving his famous “bathing beauties.” To prepare for this sequence, Robbins acquainted himself with the original Life, a humor magazine of the 1910s, and books providing the scores that accompanied the silent movies. Most particularly he studied the silent movies made by Sennett’s Keystone Studio, spending days with his cast at the Museum of Modern Art, viewing Sennett’s shorts.

Robbins had set designer Oliver Smith construct a long row of bathhouses, from which frenzied characters would suddenly appear from a doorway and disappear into another, with the hurried movement of characters in a Mack Sennett chase scene. A bathing beauty would enter one of the bathhouses, closing the door behind her; seconds later the same door would open to reveal a crook in flight, followed by a Keystone cop who would open another door from which a gorilla would appear. Crooks would tumble out of a door to a bathhouse too small to have held them all; and the door would butt a Kop in the face and he would keel over. On and on it went at a fast tempo and with the most ingenious variations—Keystone cops in hot pursuit who suddenly change course and enter a bathhouse from which feminine screams are then heard. (Long, 2002, p. 78)

[“Mack Sennett…won a lawsuit against the show for Robbins’s unauthorized use of his and ‘Keystone Kops’ names” (Grant, 2004, pp. 268-9).]

Robbins was committed to expanding his craft. When the Actor’s Studio was founded in 1947, Robbins was one of the first students to enroll. One of the founders, Richard Lewis, said, “Jerry’s performing experience was rooted in a sense of form. He was a superb young dancer now wishing to explore what the difference was in the source of expression for acting as opposed to dancing” (cited in Long, 2002, pp. 81-2).

Meanwhile, Robbins continued to dance and choreograph for the Ballet Theatre until 1948, when he joined Balanchine’s new ballet company, the New York City Ballet as a dancer and choreographer. The following year he became its associate artistic director (Long, 2002).

The King and I (1951)

The King and I was set in the palace of the King of Siam in the 1860s. The show reflected the new power of American women and the growing concern for women’s rights. Based on a true story, the musical’s exotic Siam setting allowed the audience to absorb the musical’s lessons about these issues deeply or shallowly, depending on the individual’s inclination. Raymond Knapp points out the opposing forces playing for power in the musical (2005):

1. Eastern views of female role vs. Western views

2. The civilizing female vs. the primitive male

3. Inherent U.S. superiority vs. global diversity

There were also cultural issues that played out regarding the production of the musical. Knapp criticized the creative team for using generalized “oriental” elements rather than Siamese or Thai characteristics.

The musical profile is deliberately not authentic, but trades in generically “oriental” musical devices,…and Jerome Robbins’s choreography in a similar way gives the show a generalized oriental texture through a stylized manner of movement that extends throughout…The most glaring failure of the show in this regard—and the reason all versions of the story have been banned in Thailand—is how blatantly wrong it is about Siam’s history, and about the character of the King and historical role he actually played. (2005, p. 261-2).

Robert Emmett Long inadvertently validates the above in his description of Robbins’ preparation for the show: “Robbins prepared for the King and I with his usual thorough research into the cultural background of the characters. He went to see Oriental sculpture and read books on Oriental art and theater. He sought out East Asian dancers, who held classes for the company. Two dancers in the show, Michiko and Yuriko, were trained in Tokyo, and with their expert knowledge of both Far Eastern dance and the Kabuki theater served as consultants” (2002, p. 85).

Though The King and I received worldwide critical acclaim, Knapp’s criticisms about the show’s lack of authenticity in its representation of Thailand culture are well founded. Tokyo and Kabuki theater are both Japanese treasures, and Japan is 2800 miles and several cultures away from Siam [now known as Thailand.] The term “oriental” was a blanket phrase used to represent a very limited American perception of Asian life—our views on Asian food, behavior, values and art--which were then applied to peoples of all Asian countries as if there were no cultural distinctions among the 50+ countries!

An interesting note: all 3 Broadway revivals of the The King and I used the original Jerome Robbins choreography, a testament to the strength of its story integration. Yuriko, mentioned above, directed and restaged the choreography for the first revival (1977) in which her daughter, Susan Kakuchi performed and was dance captain. Susan Kakuchi later supervised the restaging of Robbins’ choreography and was dance captain for the third revival (1996). Rebecca West, who also performed in the first revival, reproduced the choreography for the second revival (1985). In this way, the choreography made its way intact from the original production.

According to Knapp, the casting of The King and I reflected an inherent theme in the musical: American superiority. In the show, we are taught to appreciate another culture, even as we are shown that our ways, of course, are better. This superior attitude was held even in casting, when Western actors, rather than Asian were given all the leads. Yul Brynner who played the king for over 4500 performances on stage and recreated the role for the movie was Russian. The actors who played the King’s head wife, Lady Thiang, and lovebird lead characters Tuptim and Lun Tha were also Caucasian.

Although Robbins did not direct the show, he directed the dance and musical numbers (Grant, 2004).

“March of the Siamese Children” was a marvelous bit of staging in which the numerous children of the King are first presented to Anna. With little more than walking as a movement vocabulary for the “dance”, each group of children was given characteristic movements that set them apart as individuals among the masses. These subtle distinctions, especially the bit when one of the children does not follow the organized plan and is simultaneously admonished and admired by the King, also served to create a defining moment in the musical, showing the audience that not all was perfectly ordered in the palace and the King was also not as fierce as he seemed.

In “Getting to Know You,” Anna gets to know the King’s many wives, who are fascinated with her. At one point in the musical number, one of the wives does a fan dance, showing off Eastern culture. Then, four wives join hands around the waist of the wife to make a human hoop skirt, demonstrating their interest in learning about what it means to be a Western woman.

Robbin’s ballet “The Small House of Uncle Thomas” shows parallels between the evils of slavery in America (The Civil War was raging during the time that the original Anna first went to Siam), the circumstances of the wives in the palace and the story of Moses--of which the King continually speaks. In the show, Tuptim produces, directs and narrates the story, which was inspired by her reading of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Tuptim uses the ballet as a visual protest of her lack of freedom under the King’s rule. Through dance, she is able to express complaints that would not normally be acceptable. The presence of Anna and the dignitaries also provides protection. The performance reflects the new power of women in the palace: It is based on a book written by a woman, and the dance—in its context in the show—is conceived, produced and performed entirely by women, who dare to take the men’s roles too.

Women deliver the messages and subtexts of the King and I. It is by looking more carefully at the King’s wives that we come to realize that they are educated Easterners rather than merely a beautiful harem. We gain insight into the evolving kingdom, since the education of the wives could not have happened without permission of the king. It is Eastern tradition, not the king that is holding them captive, and the West—through Anna—is there to offer “freedom.” Though Tuptim does not gain freedom—by our definition—she is freed from her traditional role. The price is the destruction of the old order in the palace (Knapp, 2005). The men in the show are ultimately portrayed as simple and pliable; they are a backdrop against which the evolution of women can be distinguished.

“The Small House of Uncle Thomas” was sixteen minutes long, and “the music was composed entirely by Trude Rittmann [a dance music arranger, not the show’s composer]” (Grant, 2004, p. 273).

Interestingly, Robbins chose the genre of Kabuki theater to tell the American story of Uncle Thomas. The wives were sheltered from Western culture, so Tuptim would not have been able to produce an authentic American version. Her use of the ballet as a protest against the Eastern palace system is more easily seen when the American story is viewed through her use of Eastern language and art.

“To make the movement both unique and believable in its context, Robbins borrowed idioms from the Oriental theater like mime, masks, stylized movement, and stylized gesture and then put them to the service of a functional dance entertainment that remains even today as one of the glories of the American musical theater” (Kislan, 1987, pp. 99-100). The use of elaborate props, combined with the unusual movements and the poignant voice of Tuptim narrating her story, displayed a scene reminiscent of a child’s dream, and of a child’s pleading.

The shift of power in The King and I is often demonstrated through movement. Demonstration of power in the palace is established at once when the King apprises Anna of the palace rule regarding the height of his head in relation to all others in the palace. (The king’s head must always be the highest.)

The film version of The King and I made “Shall We Dance” one of the most recognizable Broadway dance numbers in history. The steps are derived from a simple social dance: the European ballroom polka. During the course of the number, power shifts from Anna, who knows the dance, to the King, who demands that they dance together in a ballroom hold. In couple’s dancing the male leads. Then the power struggle ends with in harmony. “East meets West” and “Man meets Woman” as the characters come together and move smoothly in the dance.

Musical deconstructor Scott Miller adds another idea: “The dance becomes a metaphor for monogamy… she [Anna] is metaphorically teaching them [the inhabitants of the palace] how to be monogamous” (cited in Knapp, 2005, p. 266).

More Musicals

Robbins choreographed many Broadway shows and ballets, and after the success of The King and I, he was often called in as a “show doctor.” A show doctor is an outside creative professional who is brought in to fix specific problems in a show. Robbins was hired by producers to fix dances or give constructive ideas for parts of the shows that were rough. Here is a list of more musicals choreographed by Jerome Robbins:

Look, Ma, I’m Dancin’! (1948) - Conceived and choreographed by Robbins. He was also codirector of the show’s musical numbers.

Miss Liberty (1949) – Choreographer.

Call Me Madam (1950 ) – Choreographer.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1951 ) – Robbins called in as “show doctor.”

Wish You Were Here (1952) – Robbins called in as “show doctor” to fix dances.

Two’s Company (1952) – Revue choreographed by Robbins.

Wonderful Town (1953) – Robbins called in as “show doctor;” he asked to be uncredited.

Peter Pan (1954): The first show for which he was director/choreographer. Dance, music and acting were all fully integrated. Characters were given movement themes that identified them.

Pajama Game (1954): Directed the show, but couldn’t choreograph it because of his commitment for Peter Pan. He recommended young Bob Fosse for the job, and George Abbott, Robbins’ co-director accepted his recommendation on the condition that Robbins be available for consultation if needed.

Silk Stockings (1955) Show doctor. [Eugene Loring, who had taught Robbins at Ballet Theatre when Robbins was in his early twenties, was the choreographer!!] Robbins requested that he be uncredited.

Bells Are Ringing (1956): Choreographed by Bob Fosse; Robbins contributed some numbers.

West Side Story (1957)

Oklahoma! demonstrated the power of dance as an integral element in forwarding story. With West Side Story, Robbins demonstrated the power of dance to establish character. With few words, the prologue of West Side Story literally moves the audience through the urban neighborhood in which the show is set, allowing them to physically empathize with the tension and energy of the characters and their relationships before a single sentence has been uttered.

While many shows offered audiences comforting reassurances of a nation united, and displayed easy resolutions to seeded conflicts, others use the medium of musicals to gently open the eyes of audiences to harsh realities, such as racism and violence (Knapp, 2005).

Although de Mille had done much to bring dance to a more important role in Broadway musicals, Robbins “assigned to dance a primary role in the development of the shows

dramatic and theatrical content… in 1957 his work as director-choreographer for West side story so blended the drama, dance, music, décor, and performance into a seamless, homogeneous whole as to establish the movement, conceived musical as the wave of the future and elevate the position of director-choreographer to the status of “most vital constituent” in the evolution of the Broadway musical” (Kislan, 1987, p. 96).

The plot of West Side Story was loosely based on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Two teens, Tony (Romeo) and Maria (Juliet), from opposite sides of a bitter gang feud, find love and are torn between their loyalty to their family/gang and their newly found passion. In the end, the feud turns ugly, and members of both sides are killed.

Knapp comments on the creators’ choice of Puerto Rican immigrants as the “others” in the show. He posits that a black/white theme would have been too familiar with too many pre-existing emotional connections for the audience. By choosing Puerto Ricans, a fresh, more universal prejudice was made possible. [I suspect that the choice of Puerto Ricans [and Robbins portrayal of them in the show] also provided the audience with easily identifiable and superficial touchstones for stereotyping the “others”, such as vocal accent, skin color and overt sexuality.

West Side Story evidences the evolution of cultural groups in the U.S. “To repeat the epithets used in the show, West Side Story sets ‘Spics’ (generically, Spanish Americans) against a composite group who only a short time before would have been regarded as the immigrants, including a ‘Polack’ (Tony) and a mix of ‘Wops’ (Italians) and ‘Micks’ (Irish)” (Knapp, 2005, p. 205).

West Side Story was criticized for its stereotyping of life in Puerto Rico. The show was “seen as either ignorant or shamelessly pandering to the presumed prejudices of its American audience” Knapp, 2005, p. 205). In other words, in their portrayal of Puerto Ricans characters, author Arthur Laurents and Robbins were guilty of extreme stereotyping. Perhaps it was a mistake to assign a specific cultural identity to the Hispanic gang.

Another aspect of this stereotyping was the generalization of the Hispanic community. The Sharks were meant to represent a larger, general group of American-perceived Spanish American immigrants coming from lands of poverty and disease. The dances and the music were created in a general Latin style, rather than from indigenous music and dance from Puerto Rico. Says Knapp:

This strategy was in line with Broadway musical conventions—not to mention those of opera and concert music—of setting ethnicity according to what a projected audience will recognize and accept, without much concern for authenticity. Similarly, the show generalizes the politics of immigration so as to apply in blanket fashion to Spanish-speaking populations in the New World who moved to cities in the United States, whose motivation might have included, in some combination, extreme poverty, crowded and unhealthful living conditions, limited opportunities for advancement, or frequent outbursts of political violence and revolution.…Even if we might understand that, for West Side Story, Puerto Ricans stand for a larger population of resented immigrants, the show nevertheless purports to depict a specific population and describe a specific place in often derogatory terms. On the face of it, perpetuating this kind of preconception and prejudice would seem to be a decidedly odd way to put to promote ethnic tolerance” (Knapp, 2005, p. 206).

The making of the film in 1961 proved how valuable Hollywood was to the Broadway musical. Despite its flaws in cultural representation, West Side Story became an iconic representation of the power of Broadway to confront issues in America and the power of dance to heighten the story. Robbins was able to go even further with his characterizations by bringing the dances outdoors and using creative editing to accomplish additional emotional tension that the stage could not provide. There were certain things, however, that film could not portray. Rita Moreno, who played the character of Anita in the film said the dance at the gym was never the same on film as in the live theater.

Now We’re Getting Personal

Robbins’ personal life was confused and conflicted. Though he came close—more than once—to marrying different women, many who were close to him saw him as a homosexual Jewish man with both sexual and cultural identity issues.

Long finds Robbins’—and the rest of the creative teams’—homosexuality evidenced in the portrayal of relationships in the show:

It is certainly a source of curiosity that the love story of Tony and Maria should suggest the idea of sexual ambivalence. In The Gay Metropolis, 1940-1996, Charles Kaiser describes Bernstein, Robbins, Laurents, and Sondheim as “four gay Jewish men, all working at the top of their craft” in West Side Story, and speculates that the musical’s inner theme is forbidden love. He doesn’t elaborate, but the work clearly possesses a strong sense of alienation that is linked to thwarted love. In the ballad “Somewhere,” Tony and Maria dream of “a place for us” in what seems to them a hostile and uncomprehending world. In a small pocket of the story lives a social-sexual misfit called Anybodys, a girl who dresses as a boy and longs to be part of the gang, but is excluded by the gang members as well as by the rest of society.

A heterosexual love story adapted from a famous, classical model occupies a central place in West Side Story, yet it is shaded with a certain ambiguity. Most of the dancers in West Side Story by far are males; Robbins’s dances are predominately performed by them, and they often concern bonding rights, the gang members’ blood brotherhood that will be “for life.” …

In West Side Story,…delinquent youths…are at times menacing in their dance numbers and exude a male sexual energy…Robbins takes the boy-meets-girl-and-they-fall-in-love formula of a thousand musicals and confronts it with a closely bound world of young men. In fact, in a very focal way Tony is torn between his love for Maria and his loyalty to the brotherhood of the Jets, an inner conflict that brings on the tragedy of the play. Sexual love is inseparable from alienation in West Side Story, a theme that seems to have struck a deep, richly creative chord in both Robbins and Bernstein. Some of Robbins’s earlier ballets explored themes of alienation, but in West Side Story it bursts into being with unprecedented explosive power. In Fancy Free, New York was the setting of the sailors’ high-spirited fun, but in West Side Story it has more complicated and darker connotations. Around it swirl ideas of yearning and brutalization, ecstasy and despair. It is a young conflicted world of high excitement, eroticism and danger, a powerful tonal poem of New York. (2004, pp. 108-9).

The Dance

The white Jets gang had a vocabulary of movement that was jazz-based, alternating between cool, restrained jazz movements and outbursts of explosive energy. The Puerto Rican Sharks used Latin-styled moves that were sharp, passionate, percussive and rhythmic (Knapp, 2005).

Appropriation

West Side Story is often cited as a pivotal point in theatrical jazz dance history, due to the ingenious use of jazz, ballet, and social dance by Jerome Robbins. But [Donald] McKayle, who worked as dance captain and swing dancer with the original cast, sees the contribution of jazz movements differently than most historians. "I was in West Side Story, the original, and that wasn't jazz dance. It was very theatrical, quite marvelous, but the part that was closest to jazz is what [assistant choreographer] Peter Gennaro did. Of course, Jerome Robbins took all of the bows for Peter's work. It was Peter's work that was closest to jazz dance. 'America' was Peter's, all of the Shark movement in the gymnasium was Peter's...he was an unsung hero" (Boross, 2010 “Donald McKayle”).

West Side Story was the first musical to begin its creation with dance as a storytelling device. In West Side Story, shifts in power were shown through shifts in who danced and who controlled the dance (Kislan, 1987). From the very first scene, the tension of barely restrained violence demonstrated by the posture and movement of the characters grabbed the audience by the heart more physically and more profoundly than any words could have done. And the movement gave the audience a physical experience of the action.

Like de Mille, Robbins required of his dancers a depth of character and feeling that was usually found only in the actors on the stage (Kislan, 1987). He demanded all of the emotional depth of the fine actor combined with the expertise in technique, line and expression found in the elite dancer. De Mille had made her chorus members part of the action. Robbins gave each actor/singer/dancer a name and a full character story.

In Oklahoma! de Mille broke up the traditional linear chorus..., arranging her performers in groups—with actors in the dramatic scenes and dancers taking over when dance sequences were introduced. But in West Side Story, Robbins dispensed with the chorus entirely, employing performers who could act, sing, and dance all in one, and who could perform a chorus function without looking like a chorus. Moreover, they could move from a dramatic moment into a dance moment with a maximum of fluidity and naturalness. De Mille helped to create the integrated musical but her musicals were still not fully integrated. Her dream ballet, for example, may have brought dance into the musical more fully than ever before, but it stood out from the rest of the show as dance, and it did involve bringing in a dance chorus and lead dancers who filled in for the non-dancing actors. In West Side Story there is no dance portion to the show; it is all dance, all movement. Robbins blurs the line between dance and dramatic action, so that it is hard to say where one ends and the other begins. (Long, 2003, p. 110)

Although West Side Story was highly successful, both artistically and commercially, it did receive criticism, especially of its ending.

Robert Emmet Long:

The endings of Romeo and Juliet and West Side Story are interesting to compare. Shakespeare’s play ends with a convincing restoration of moral order as the warring families come to recognize, with the loss of their children, that they have put anger and pride about love and forgiveness; the tragic catharsis brought by the death of the young people forces them to reorder their values, to reach a larger, more enlightened and harmonious view of what life should be. But unlike Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story has almost no adults in it: in an eerie way the gang members seem to have no homes, and there is no sense of society… only a scarred urban battlefield. At the end the musical would like to give the Shakespearean sense of contrition, of bitter lessons learned, and of a movement into the future that will be more humane and generous than the past. But the coming together of the Jets and Sharks is not entirely convincing. They are not deep enough as people to be transformed through suffering, and it is hard to imagine a future for them in which they will be other than as they were. Their truce at the end and common mourning seem primarily a platform from which to preach that prejudice and hatred of groups different from one’s own are wrong—a well-meaning message from the 1950s that dates the musical. (2004, p. 108)

Raymond Knapp:

If we are convinced at all by the hope offered up at the end of West Side Story, it is not because anyone has been convinced that Tony’s and the Maria’s mutual love should be a model for them to follow, but rather because Maria herself has learned to hate, and because she has redirected her hatred away from particular individuals and groups, hating instead the very hatred that has divided them and driven them to murder. Hate, not love, is the operative currency in the world of West Side Story. Implicitly, then, race-based hatred is the given core to West Side Story, the non-negotiable point of reference for everything that happens. Even the hope for reconciliation advanced at the end, like the love of Maria and Tony, is plausible only within a context removed from the here and now; the most we can say is that it may happen, over time. (2005, p. 204)

In other words, appreciation of the opposite gang never really happens. A lesson in humanity is not necessarily learned. Rather the ending leaves the audience hanging with the question: could we coexist without killing each other?

Treatment of Dancers

Robbins was well-known for his genius. He was also well-known for his ascerbic tongue. Those who worked for Robbins almost universally agree that he could be cruel. Following a long line of authoritarian, Machiavellian choreographers, Robbins believed cruelty was justified if the end result was achieved. As I mentioned earlier, this was, unfortunately, fairly standard practice in the world of dance.Those who worked with Robbins universally agree on another point: Robbins was a genius who was worth whatever abuse he gave. Read the following article. It chronicles his treatment of the dancers who dealt with the darker side of Jerome Robbins.

NYPost Article - Actors recall living in fear of Jerome Robbins — yet dying to work with him

Links to an external site.

More Musicals by Robbins

Gypsy (1959 – 702 performances): Based on the memoirs of Gypsy Rose Lee, a reknown burlesque stripper, this show was another show about show business. Robbins directed and choreographed the show. He prepared his dancers by immersing them in the world of burlesque, inviting local burlesque artists to come to the theatre to demonstrate their craft.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1962) – Show doctor.

Funny Girl (1964): Robbins had various roles in the production and finally was credited as “Production Supervised by …” He is unofficially credited with successfully pulling the show together and coaching then unknown Barbra Streisand in her acting (Long, 2004).

Fiddler on the Roof (1964)

Cultural Identity

Being of Jewish descent, Robbins faced a challenge in America: assimilation. Like many others in the Broadway industry, he turned his back on his cultural ancestry in order to blend and become a true American [whatever that might mean.] Robbins said:

I see the rages and discontents deeply rooted inside of me, and it seems to me that the anguish has been caused by this wrenching away from my true cultural background and the constant modification to assimilate myself, whoring myself to become an American. As I grew up, Judaism seemed to be tallises [prayer shawls] and beards and eyes watering and smells that I didn’t know, language I couldn’t understand. It revolted me, and I laid my knife against it. Now, I’m trying to get back to the things that I am graced so deeply. (Cited in Kinberg, 2009)

Fiddler on the Roof (1964) was the first Broadway musical to run for over 3000 performances. (It ran for 3242.) The show was a global hit. The universal themes of tradition vs. assimilation and the generation gap caused Fiddler to be successful with audiences of all races and ethnicities. It was also popular in countries having very little Jewish population. Librettist Joseph Stein, said “ Fiddler on the Roof isn’t a play about Jewish people; it’s a play about people who happen to be Jewish” (cited in Knapp, 2005, p. 215).

Nevertheless, the show was lovingly embraced by Jewish people all over the world, especially in America and Israel. To have Jewish life boldly displayed and well-received gave the Jewish community rare positive exposure.

The musical beautifully portrayed universal themes of traditional male/female power structures, generational gaps and oppression. That said, specific historical messaging was not hidden. It was used to further the themes.

The political events that bring each act to a close—the pogrom-like “demonstration” at the wedding celebration of Tzeitel and Motel midway through, and the mass eviction of the Jewish population at the end—serve mainly as the backdrop to one of the central dramas endemic to race-based cultural conflicts: preservation vs. assimilation—a conflict that takes on quite different complexions depending on the degree of oppression experienced from the outside. Thus, in a more benign political environment for Jews (such as that of Western Europe in the first half of the nineteenth century or in twentieth-century America), assimilation, perceived as a merger of cultural strengths, might seem a plausible alternative. In the face of manifest oppression, however, the separatist urge toward preservation will understandably seem to be the only human alternative, for cultural preservation becomes the only viable means of self-preservation (in the human sense as opposed to a mere animal survival). (Knapp, 2005, p. 219)

Once again, Robbins researched history and culture, then used dance to forward the concepts of the show: tradition vs. assimilation, old vs. young, Jewish people vs. those who would oppress them. The dances were interwoven seamlessly into the storyline as a natural outpouring of emotion in a cultural context. The dancers were instructed to avoid looking at the audience, and there were no production numbers (Long, 2003).

The opening number, “Tradition,” began not with the big sound of an orchestra but with the modest music of a fiddler silhouetted on a roof and the solitary figure of Tevye who, in a ten-minute monologue [text spoken by a single actor without a break], explains himself as a simple man given to talking to his God. As he speaks, peasants in ragged outfits appear hand in hand from the wings, and as they begin to sing of their traditions they move faster and faster, weaving about Tevye in a circle, their singing rising in a emotional crescendo. “Tradition” illustrates Robbins’s use of dance (in this case more choreographed movement than actual dance) to tell a story: the encircling of Tevye by the peasants forges a bond between them of ever-increasing intensity. The dance celebrates the solidarity of the dispossessed in the face of an oppressive social system. (Long, 2003, p. 128)

Robbins research included a visit to a Hasidic wedding “at the Ansonia Hotel on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, where a Jewish comedian did an amusing dance while balancing an empty wine bottle on his head. The little incident inspired Robbins’s “Bottle Dance, “in which four male villages do a spectacular dance with bottles poise precariously on their heads” (Long, 2003 p. 128)

Although Fiddler won nine Tony awards, including Best Musical, Best Choreographer and Best Director, Robbins was not hired to work on the film version. It’s possible that his exorbitant overages of time and money while working on the film of West Side Story were the reason.

Fiddler was Robbins last original Broadway musical. (A collaboration with Leonard Bernstein failed to make it to the stage after ten months of work, and another original musical had an even more dramatic ending. After months of pre-production work and major conflicts between the creative staff, “nothing worked as Robbins had hoped. An opening date was set, and the collaborators were in the middle of an audition, when Robbins said, ‘Excuse me a moment,’ and left the theater. When he did not return, Guare [composer/writer/lyricist] went backstage to see what was happening; and the doorman told him that Robbins had got into a limousine and was on his way to Kennedy Airport. ‘I had a feeling of horror and relief,’ Guare said. Bernstein burst into tears and exclaimed, ‘It’s over’” (Long, 2003, p. 134).

In 1989, Robbins supervised Jerome Robbins Broadway, a collection of his choreographic Broadway masterpieces, including dances from The King and I, On the Town, and West Side Story.

Epilogue

Though Robbins retired from the Broadway stage, he continued to choreograph for the New York City Ballet for many years. A massive stroke in July of 1998 put Robbins into the hospital, but in his last hours, close friend—and executor of Robbins’ living will—Nadia Stern convinced the hospital to release him, and he died at home, surrounded by friends.

Robbins’ legacy lives on. The most cherished of his musicals are regularly revived on Broadway and are performed across the globe in regional theatres and tours. His ballets remain part of the New York City Ballet repertory and are also performed by companies around the world.

West Side Story Suite (the dances from West Side Story) remains in the New York City Ballet repertory, a tribute to the genius of Jerome Robbins. It was last performed in February 2010.