Editor's Note: On November 18, Broadway favorite Melissa Errico will make her long-awaited Carnegie Hall debut with the New York Pops in evening appropriately titled Broadway Blockbusters. Steven Reineke will conduct the famed orchestra for a concert that also features Broadway artists Nikki Ren茅e Daniels, Jordan Donica, and Matt Doyle as well as Essential Voices USA, the latter led by music director and conductor Judith Clurman.
"This will be my Carnegie Hall debut on the main stage鈥擨鈥檝e sung happily on the smaller ones, but it isn鈥檛 quite the same," Amour Tony nominee Errico tells 半岛体育. "So inspired by staggering respect for the place and occasion, I鈥檝e been joyfully belting out songs all month while on the road."
"I've been excited before by events鈥攎y marriage and giving birth to twins was pretty exciting鈥攂ut singing at Carnegie is equal to any of it," Errico adds. "I get to sing songs from classics from my past, like My Fair Lady and Sunday in the Park With George, and I get to sing them alongside the magnificent Nikki Ren茅e Daniels, Matt Doyle, and Jordan Donica, conducted by brilliant Steven Reineke leading The New York Pops. What a thrill! I do feel a bit like Eliza鈥攁n Eliza with three teenagers, a husband, and two loving parents鈥攁nd we are all going to the ball!鈥�
Errico will also have the chance to wrap her soaring soprano around Stephen Sondheim's "Losing My Mind," Sally's second act torch song in the groundbreaking Follies. In her essay below, Errico explores how one word of a lyric can completely alter an artist's interpretation. For more information about the Carnegie Hall concert, click .
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Singers live for words. And, sometimes single words have resonance for us that transcend their normal meanings in ordinary speech. Tony Bennett once said鈥攖o me, as it happens鈥攖hat you should always watch the way Sinatra lands the word "love." I tell singing students to do the same with the word "light" when it comes up in Sondheim. The marriage of words and notes is our life, and as much as we want to hit the right B-flat, we need to know what the word means that it accompanies.
This month, I found myself in the middle of a series of arguments鈥攓uarrels, debates鈥攁ll over the proper placement and choice of a single word in a single song I鈥檓 scheduled to sing at Carnegie Hall on Friday, November 18. All month, I鈥檝e been belting out songs out in rental cars or humming to myself with AirPods on in airport lounges or while getting my 10,000 steps and taking in a local park in Singapore or London. (Rehearsals happen everywhere, the shower, the tube, the toilet鈥攈ome, where I鈥檇 be surrounded by my library of biographies and music books.)
And, in that time there first began an actual, rolling, hundred-voiced debate on Twitter (and Facebook)鈥攊gnited by me, I鈥檒l admit鈥攁bout a single word. The question was whether in Sondheim鈥檚 鈥淟osing My Mind鈥� (from Follies)鈥攁 song which I鈥檓 scheduled to sing at Carnegie Hall鈥攖he right lines are 鈥淚 talk to friends and think about you鈥� or 鈥淚 talk to friends. I think about you.鈥�
The character in the show, you see, is obsessing about a lover she cannot have. The song traces her day, and the key to the song, I鈥檇 decided through all that on-the-run practicing, is to feel her whole day. The fact that he鈥檚 always on her mind, that he鈥檚 permeated everything鈥攈er coffee cup, her talks to friends, her sleep, perhaps years of no sleep; she can hardly believe it鈥檚 not visible to everyone that he鈥檚鈥n her skin. I鈥檓 not sure she has to actually be arriving at mental destruction (I don鈥檛 think she needs to seem institutionalized!), as much as a revelation that she鈥檚 so far in this hidden passion that it鈥檚 agony to imagine not breaking it into the light. (鈥淒oes no one know?鈥� she sings. How could no one know?) A deep torch song鈥攖he torch a light in the depth of her heart, pulsing under the surface.
And then, at the end of the song marking her day, we should suddenly realize that this woman is on a wheel, she鈥檚 reliving this day again and again: from coffee cup to frozen legs, unsure which way to turn in life. And, all of this could turn on whether or not she sings the "and." The quality of the emotional transmission I was practicing would be different depending on the absence or the presence of that "and."
I was struck by the alacrity of responses and the intense reasoning of my peers and fans when I put the question out on social media. One of the first replies was, 鈥淐heck the Bible.鈥� (i.e., Sondheim Complete). But one could find it sung by first-class Sondheimians in both ways. Some ruminated on whether the 鈥渁nd鈥� showed two actions happening at the same time, or if the constant obsessing was clearer without the 鈥渁nd.鈥� One writer, Leon Ferguson, wrote 鈥淟osing the 鈥榓nd鈥� makes better sense of her state of mind. Two separate unrelated activities. Otherwise, it seems like talking to friends instigates thoughts of you.鈥� The feeling was that without the 鈥渁nd鈥� the character seemed more obsessive. The repetition of the 鈥淚鈥� was part of the obsessiveness.
But another Sondheim expert insists that the song becomes more devastating once the 鈥淚 think鈥� sentences give way to 鈥渁nd think about you鈥� and 鈥渢o think about you.鈥� She spends sleepless nights to think about the lover: 鈥淭o think lands even more powerfully because the 鈥業 think鈥� chain has just been broken.鈥� Another pointed out that it was vital that it is 鈥淚 think about you鈥� in the first two stanzas because it shows the thought is disconnected from the real-world things she describes, a kind of evocation of a person able to be in two places at once. Physically in one life, and mentally in another.
All that on an 鈥渁nd!鈥� The conversation among fans was so moving, as if everyone were talking about someone they knew and loved: how they felt for, as if she were real, a heartbroken woman who now only has a life of spending nights thinking 鈥渙f him.鈥� It was delicately mentioned that Barbra Streisand performed it at Barclays with the 鈥渁nd鈥� in the wrong place. Giddiness peaked with one writer writing, 鈥淚 love this thread so much. This is why I moved to NYC.鈥� To which I wrote, 鈥淭his is why I鈥檓 going to die here, too.鈥�
But鈥攁nd this is my implicit point鈥攖hat鈥檚 the singer's special art, and a backwards blessing of this post-pandemic, social media moment is that we get to universalize it! I had a similar mass investigation not long ago on whether the character Petra, in 鈥淭he Miller鈥檚 Son,鈥� sings 鈥済iggle on the grass鈥�; in last-minute rehearsals, I referenced many recordings and found that some actresses sang 鈥渋n the grass,鈥� and printed materials in my collection and online sources showed it both ways.
What interested me was not so much that the controversy was simple to solve (Sondheim鈥檚 intention was 鈥渙n鈥�), but the speed with which his devoted clarified things. In a quick flurry of tweets and comments, I felt a shared sense that it mattered if it was 鈥渙n鈥� or 鈥渋n.鈥� Just as it matters if it鈥檚 "and" or 鈥淚." (Ultimately, how鈥檚 this for an irony, the outdoor event itself was rained out, twice, and there was no one on the grass.)
And, it isn鈥檛 just Steve who inspires intense-crazy single-word lyric debates; I鈥檝e had still one more in the past weeks about whether the lady in 鈥淭he Lady Is a Tramp鈥� likes or loves the rowing in Central Park Lake. Both versions have credible sources and singers鈥攁nd, yes, it鈥檚 a big difference in defining her character. If she likes the rowing, she鈥檚 flippantly nonchalant; if she loves the rowing, she鈥檚 almost childlike in her pursuit of simple pleasures. (Or, maybe landing a double entendre.) While in the 鈥渇ilm noir鈥� concert I鈥檝e been traipsing around America, and then London, performing, I enjoyed adding the 1947 Rodgers and Hammerstein fuck you song 鈥淭he Gentleman Is a Dope鈥� from Allegro, the failed musical that Sondheim, who saw it frequently as a teenager, always hoped to cure for his own mentor Oscar. (The tune is not traditional noir, but it鈥檚 noir to me, and inescapably thematic as it鈥檚 the perfect anthem of feminine defiance.)
Yet, the dance of words and their multiplicity never ends. Singing 鈥淭he Gentleman Is a Dope鈥� in the front seat of my car, my own little rebels (femmes?)鈥攎y three teenagers鈥攑romptly corrected me: surely, they insisted, I meant 鈥渢he gentleman is dope鈥濃攚ithout the "a." Dope, being a very common exuberant compliment these days. The gentleman is a dope/the gentleman is dope. Changing the meaning, and updating the song for 2022, by swallowing an 鈥渁.鈥� In one omission of one syllable, the man got away.
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Just when I thought these queries were perhaps mine alone, I had my first rehearsal this week at Carnegie Hall. Suddenly we were stalled awhile as we sang 鈥淐limb Every Mountain鈥� (our finale) and conductor Steven Reineke had occasion to explain that the final line is 鈥�'till you find your dream鈥� not 鈥渄reams.鈥� He said he鈥檚 corrected singers countless times on this. And, a substantial discussion began about why it鈥檚 a very different final sentence鈥攅nd of a huge concert!鈥攊f you switch that one word.
Important vibration in attending to one word. Multiple dreams imply goals, perhaps by having many of them, it seems less majestic. Steve brilliantly pointed out that to have 鈥渁 dream鈥濃攁 singular dream鈥攈as a certain power. It becomes entangled with a spiritual dream, not just things we think we want, but larger values. I鈥檝e followed a dream, and it鈥檚 this Friday.
