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WALTER
BOBBIE |
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I interviewed Walter Bobbie at the Paramount Hotel in
Manhattan. Beforehand, I met Chicago’s
publicist Peter Sanders, who gave me an interview Walter had
done with the Metro Weekly, a gay paper in Washington. I scanned it quickly to
read his quotes about being gay, just to get a sense of how to
proceed with him. Walter arrived 15 minutes late, sweaty and
flustered because of traffic snarls around Lincoln Center.
He’s a stocky man with clear blue eyes and short graying
hair, nicely dressed in a light-colored sports coat and
matching trousers, white shirt. He and Pete talked about the
GLAAD Awards the night before. Pete reported that Lea deLaria
closed the show and was a big hit, singing “When You’re
Good to Mama” (she’s going into the Toronto production of Chicago).
Pete mentioned that Tony Bennett performed before Lea. I
asked, “What was Tony Bennett doing at the GLAAD Awards?”
Walter said, “Cruising!” (His eyes go blank
and wide with barely concealed terror.) I don’t think of
myself as a gay artist. I don’t think I’m in denial about
who I am, but it doesn’t seem essential to what I do. My
politics is the light-one-candle version of gay politics. I
think it’s important for me to live my life and know who I
am. [I’d read the same
quote in the DC gay paper.]
As a gay man, it’s my notion politically to simply be
able to function in a very straight world and let it be a
non-issue. Because I find in the world of theater, even the
world of musical theater, is a very very straight world. You
know, we think of it as just a bunch of campy queens dancin’
and singin’ and playin’ their show tunes while they parade
around the house. But when you move up into the producing
world of musical theater, its a boys’ club. What’s
important for me is to go in there as a creative person who
happens to be gay and simply function man-to-man with these
men, who are really the muscle and the finance of the Broadway
theater. Because I’ll tell ya, there’s not a producing
house in this town that’s gay. It’s a real straight world. And yet there are
hardly any musicals that aren’t directed by gay men. Oh, I don’t think that’s true at all. I don’t know
what people’s personal lives are, but Fosse wasn’t gay.
When I think of great musical theater directors like Gower
Champion... What about
contemporary directors? There are a lot of gay directors these
days. Good. I think it’s good. I don’t know. Please, don’t
misunderstand me, I don’t have an issue with this. It’s
how I’ve chosen to live my life. But I don’t prefer to
live in a gay ghetto and go to Fire Island for the summer. I
don’t prefer that. I have a little house out of town
that’s on the straightest block in town. The math teacher
lives next door. They have a basketball hoop for their kids on
the garage. My neighbors next door have two kids. I play with
their children. It has been as important to me to hold on to
that part of my place in the world as it is to sit down with a
bunch of friends and just have a campy old night of dish and
screaming. That’s my personal politics, and how that affects
me as a creative person I really don’t know. I just know
it’s important to know who I am so I can go anywhere in the
world and do what I want to do. Because people are not going
to let me do what I want to do because I’m gay or not gay.
People are going to let me do what I do because they think I
can create some excitement in the theater or I can create a
financially viable piece of entertainment for them. So I think
it’s essential that I not walk into a corporate situation
and think that my personal politics has to be an issue. I
think it’s important for me to know it’s a non-issue.
Is this about me being a gay person, this article? I’m just having a
conversation with you. It’s a funny thing about interviewing
people for the Advocate
that you need to feature their gay credentials. Often I’m
talking to people who are working on plays that have gay
content, and that’s what we talk about. I just noticed that
wasn’t the case with this interview, and I brought it up
because it was on my mind. But I wonder if you think it’s a
total coincidence that so many of the makers of musical
theater are gay -- I mean, performers, costume designers, etc.
I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about. I was talking to my
friend Stephen Holden, who went to see Li’l
Abner over the weekend, and he said he loves the
“Encores” series, that there’s nothing else like it
because of the intense gay vibe in the house, the love in the
audience for those shows and those performers. And I would love a cup of coffee! (The waiter arrives to take our order.) You look a little
shocked by what I was saying about the Encores series. I’ve never done an interview where the reason someone was
talking to me was because I was gay. I’m feeling
uncomfortable. My personal struggle with my sexuality has been
so hard-earned, if you will. How I’ve absorbed it into the
way I live my life is deeply personal, and I hate it being
made generic in some way. I think the struggle that any gay
man goes through is so particular and so specific to how he
was raised, where he was raised, his religious background. I
think it’s so complex that I don’t want to trivialize it.
I own it. I admit it. I embrace it. I live it. I have a great
relationship, all of those things. I would answer all of those
questions. But what’s interesting to me is who I am as a
complete human being, and I think being gay ... it’s been
important for me to realize it’s a very small component to
this man. So to reduce to me what I have properly made
right-sized in my personal world is to somehow diminish me. I
just say that to you because I don’t know how to bullshit my
way through. I appreciate your
saying that, and I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable
with my question. Let me give you a perspective that I have.
Often when you’re interviewed in the New
York Times, they feature everything about you but they
leave out the part that you’re gay. In the Advocate,
I want to include all of who you are, and NOT leave out the
part where you’re gay. That’s all I’m saying. My mother would be thrilled (he laughs, nervously). Pete Sanders:
Does your mother subscribe to the Advocate? It comes to the beauty shop every week. Where does your
mother live? Did you grow up in
Florida? Did you study theater
in school? You hadn’t done
theater before you went to Catholic University? What was the first
show you did?
I was given a stereo for my birthday when I was in the
eighth grade and a bunch of albums, one of which was the
soundtrack for Oklahoma!
The reason I got it was not that I asked for it but because my
cousin Eleanor worked for Capitol Records and my mother got
the records wholesale. I played Oklahoma!
over and over again, I thought it was just so cool. Then I
just started buying musical comedy albums. Some guys memorized
baseball cards. I memorized album covers. I knew who designed
everything, who lit it, who did the costumes, who did the
orchestrations and dance arrangements. I never saw a Broadway
show ‘til I was a sophomore in college. What was it? Were there other kids
in Scranton who were also into musical theater? When I went back to the university, we’d do a play in the
fall and a musical in the spring. A teacher in the English
department would always do some off-beat musicals like The
Fantasticks, Little Mary Sunshine, Ernest in Love. It was
great fun. We had some talented people there at the
university. When you went to
Catholic U did you know you wanted to go into theater
professionally? Oh yes. I applied to graduate schools and doctoral
programs. I also thought I might want to design. So I applied
quite widely. Started doing theater. Did you come to New
York directly after school? Now you have this
successful exciting second career as a director.
Then out of nowhere, because of some people I’d
directed industrials for when I first got off the bus, I was
offered to do the Rodgers and Hammerstein revue at Rainbow
& Stars. I went to Jerry Zaks, ‘cause I was in Guys and Dolls at the time, and I asked if he would give me a
three-week leave of absence. Jerry is in many ways responsible
for my career. I think he’s a wonderful director, and he’s
been a loyal friend and supporter to me. I was in a big hit in
a great part, and I wanted to go direct this revue. It was
clear to me and to Jerry that this was not some out-of-work
actor looking for something to do so he thought he’d direct.
I had a passion for it. And he actually gave me a leave of
absence, and I went to do that. Suddenly, the community and
the critics decided I seemed to know what I was doing. We got
surprisingly supportive reviews and then that led to my being
asked to do the first Encores, which Jerry starred in, Fiorello.
Then being asked to take over the series and working
eventually at Manhattan Theatre Club and the Shakespeare
Festival. I’m glad to hear
that Jerry Zaks is featured prominently in the story, I guess
because I remember seeing you in Guys
and Dolls, and Jerry Zaks came out of being a performer
himself. Is he a sort of role
model for you in making that transition from actor to
director? Role model? I don’t know, I just think he’s talented
and if you look at him, you go, Gee, it’s possible, you can
do that. A lot of wonderful directors including Mike Nichols
and Gene Saks came from being actors. Had you studied that
lineage to convince yourself it was possible to transish from
acting to directing? So you didn’t start
the Encores series, someone else did. I directed the first one. The initial committee was Ira
Weitzman and Judith Dakin and Ted Chapin was chairman of the
board. I’d known Ira forever from working at Playwrights
Horizons. He invited me to direct the first one. We jumped in
and didn’t know what we were doing, but we discovered so
much in the process of doing it that we figured out how we
might do the series. When they asked me to take over, I felt
like I’d been waiting my whole life for that. They passed me
the ball and I caught it. Sounds like something
you’d been preparing for since you were a kid. I didn’t know I was preparing for it, but I had been. I
knew the literature and I thought, “Gee, why don’t I just
follow my taste and see if anybody likes it?” Somebody gave
me a budget and a theater -- it was thrilling. Also, as I
said, I was surrounded by the very best people. I called in 25
years’ worth of favors. When I went to do Fiorello, I called William Ivey Long, and I called Chris Chadman,
and I called Jerry Zaks, Faith Prince, Adam Arkin, Phil Bosco
and Donna McKechnie -- so this first weekend was like a party
everybody wanted to get to. I just called my friends, and they
showed up for me. I still get...(he
starts to cry) Maybe it’s because I’m tired... No, take your time
and feel your feelings. I’m very moved when you say that. For people of such established talent and celebrity to
trust me.....(he cries)
I would feel that was
a very big deal and be moved by it. I work in a business that is simultaneously incredibly
cynical and powerfully generous. I feel very privileged by
what I get to do. It’s also
interesting in hindsight to look back at what seemed like
people doing you a favor, and now everybody’s dying to get
in the door for those things. They do. I remember Tyne Daly saying, “Is there anything
I can do?” I said, “Yes, if I call any of your friends,
tell them to say yes.” You’ve had a pretty
good track record of getting amazing people to say yes. We did very much. Of course we had Jay Binder, who’s a
great casting director and a friend. You’re right, now
it’s become something people want to do. But that first
year...I remember calling Gregg Edelman and asking him to do
this small part in Fiorello,
and he said, “Oh, I can’t, it’s not big enough and I’m
busy” and all that stuff. And I said to Jay Binder,
“Let’s not cast it, leave it alone.” Then the next week
we got Jerry Zaks, Faith prince, Phil Bosco, and Gregg called
back to say, “Have you cast that yet?” (laughs)
I said, “No, come on over and play, it’s gonna be one-week
stock with the A team, you’re gonna have a good time.” Now
someone like Gregg would never do that role in the revival,
but he came over for the week and played. How can you say no?
It’s a limited run, it’s like a party, you don’t have to
give up your life to do it. Then Chicago
turned into this whole industry. Do you miss doing Encores,
and did you do it just enough? I still like talking to them and being on the board. Were I
free, I would do another one, ‘cause I think the series is a
terrific opportunity to see musicals in New York City that
we’re never gonna see. You are more likely to live in
Pittsburgh or Cleveland and see Li’l Abner or One Touch of
Venus than you are in New York City. ‘Cause what we can
do is $5 million revivals here. So there’s a whole
generation of theater students, the oldest thing they know is
Andrew Lloyd Webber. That’s why we did Chicago. I thought this is a great score written by two American
masters, and there was a whole generation of kids who had no
idea Kander and Ebb had written this thing. We didn’t try to
create a Broadway hit. We were just doing a show we believed
in.
I think it’s wonderful to do Li’l
Abner. I think those Johnny Mercer lyrics are great. And
nobody should spend $7 million reviving it. But for the
weekend, don’t you wanna go hear those things in the
original orchestrations? As someone who loves the literature
of musical theater...one of my favorite things we did at
Encores to this day was Out
of This World. I think Encores has the chance to take
something by Cole Porter that was not one of his hits and say,
“Look what this guy could do even on an off day.” It’s a
terrific score. The book doesn’t work at all, but the score
is worthy. It’s funny how
Encores has entered the universe of musical theater in such a
way that I heard people say during previews of Paul Simon’s The
Capeman they should skip the Broadway production and go
right to Encores. So seriously Walter,
do you recognize any connection at all between gay culture and
musical theater culture? I’ve heard the story so many times
of people who were in 8th grade and their parents plied them
with Broadway show albums. It such a passionate thing for gay
men. It is passionate. And I guess in terms of other industries
the number of gay people is higher than at IBM or Xerox or
Macy’s. Or the fans of
musicals, they’re hardcore. They’re very passionate. It’s important to them. What do you think
that’s about? I’m just curious
because when you described your childhood interest in
musicals, it is the classic story of being swept away hearing
Broadway cast albums and knowing that’s your life and
getting excited about making shows. One of the
interesting things about you as a director, Walter, is that
you seem to be open to casting people of any color. Is that
something you’re conscious of? It’s so unlike many
long-running shows. Sometimes William Ivey will re-do the costumes for each new
actor. He made a whole set of costumes for Karen Ziemba. Which
in some ways makes it high maintenance, but everyone has a
sense of ownership that way. I think it’s true of the
tradition of musical theater. That’s why I’ve liked
Encores and the series -- musical comedies were built around
performers. Very often they had the star and the theater
before they had a note written: “We’re doing a show for
Merman!” “We’re doing a show for Martin!” That
tradition is one I grew up on. I heard all these personalities
on the album. Not that it’s good or bad, but the shows
aren’t built that way anymore. Producers are very very happy
because no matter who comes or goes in Cats, Phantom, Les Miz, it’s doesn’t matter -- they don’t have
to put somebody above the title to keep the interest going.
But I love that tradition of personalities in musical theater.
You have that in musicals in a way you don’t in dramatic
theater. Willy Loman is a challenge for any able actor, but
that’s very different from saying “Who can we get to play
Dolly?” When you’re looking for a personality, you’re
not just looking for a great actor -- you’re looking or
somebody who can bring their essence to the stage. Annie and I
are drawn to fellow performers. We invite that. You can’t do
that all the time. I’ve really enjoyed
talking to you. I’ve needed a good cry for a week. I was touched by
that. It was very sweet. Go on, I don’t want to keep you. I’m a man who’s gay, I’m not a gay man. That’s
important to me. |