11/20/13 (“Frozen” until rehearsal period)
Presented by the Skylight Music Theatre Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
Another Revolution of the Heart
a musical
Book, Music, and Lyrics by Daron Hagen
(with additional public domain musical material drawn from traditional American ballads and folk songs, and poetry by William Blake, A.E. Houseman, and Gertrude Stein.)
AGENCY CONTACT: Bill Rhoads and Associates Licensing Agent c/o Burning Sled Music 140 East Market Street Rhinebeck, NY 12572 347-684-1640 [email protected]
Production Draft
© Original Words and Music Copyright 2013 Burning Sled Music © Arrangements of public domain tunes Copyright 2013 Burning Sled Music Physical possession of this script does not imply the right to produce the work. I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
CHARACTERS
ROBBIE (TENOR / PIANIST) a successful, gay, middle-aged Broadway composer and music director living in an apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
ROSE (SOPRANO) Robbie’s best friend, a successful, perpetually touring, middle-aged singer-actress based in Chicago.
ROGER (BARITONE) Rose’s ex-husband, a recovering alcoholic struggling to revive a once-flourishing career as an opera singer, now living with, and caring for, his ailing mother in Milwaukee.
SETTINGS
Scenes 1-3: Robbie’s apartment on an upper floor of an apartment building on Manhattan’s Upper West Side somewhere in the mid-90s. A grand piano, covered with stacks of music, books, and manuscript paper, a wine bottle, the bust of a dead composer, a picture of Robbie, Roger, and Rose taken during graduate school, a folded-up checkered tablecloth, two wine glasses, and a beat up fedora. There’s a juice glass filled with pens and pencils and an ashtray on the rack. A standing lamp is positioned on the left side of the keyboard. A stack of books totters under the piano. Three stools are arrayed in the instrument’s bow, left, center, and right. Far left stand an easel and a pile of Manhasset music stands.
Scene 4: An empty black box of the sort used by creative teams to audition shows for potential backers. A grand piano sits center. The stands and easel remain.
TIME
Recently
DURATION
Approximately 70 minutes.
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SCENE 1:
NO. 1: “Working” (Instrumental Music Under) The SOUND of traffic on Broadway, several floors below. ROBBIE, middle aged, wearing a Juilliard tee shirt and comfortable slacks, sits at the piano, composing as the AUDIENCE is admitted. HIS lair, right, is elevated a few feet above the rest of the stage and reached by several low steps. HIS glasses are perched, Hal-Prince-like, on HIS forehead. HE chews on a pencil, and emits grunts and snatches of melody as HE works. Much erasing. HE is illuminated in a pool of LIGHT. HIS grand piano is covered with personal objects: the bust of a favorite dead composer, a photograph of HIMSELF, with ROGER, and ROSE, a half-empty wine bottle, two wine glasses, a folded checkered table cloth, scripts, scores, and a fine fedora.
Upstage, to ROBBIE’S left, stands an old lamp, which casts warm LIGHT on the keyboard. A juice glass filled with pens and pencils is on the right side of the rack; an ashtray, empty of butts, sits on the left side. To the left is the hallway and outer room of ROBBIE’S apartment. Three stools sit in a row center. Far left is a pile of beat up old Manhasset music stands, behind which an easel with a placard on it faces upstage. Center, by the door to ROBBIE’S apartment, stands a small end table with a plate on it suitable for receiving keys.
After the AUDIENCE is seated, and the HOUSE LIGHTS dim, ROGER enters, left, wearing a beat up raincoat over a tweed coat, and a woolen Irish hat. HE has dark, prematurely graying “baritone hair,” of which HE is clearly proud, and a carefully tended beard and moustache. HE throws HIS keys on the plate. There is a folded copy of The New York Times under HIS arm. HE shakes HIS umbrella but does not close it. Instead, HE freezes, listening for a moment to ROBBIE. Smiling slightly, HE places the umbrella down without closing it. HE removes HIS raincoat and throws it next to the pile of music stands, then sits on one of three stools downstage of the piano, opens the newspaper, and begins to read.
ROSE, wearing a stylish raincoat over a lovely dress, enters, makes as if to drop HER keys in the plate, sees ROGER’S, and puts them in HER pocket instead. SHE removes a pretty scarf from HER head, drapes it on the table over the key plate, shakes out her umbrella, and folds it up, placing it on the table. SHE advances into the sitting room while unbuttoning HER raincoat, which SHE places over the stool next to ROGER’S. HE ignores HER. SHE
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crosses HER legs. One foot wiggles. SHE leans over and, with one finger, draws the newspaper down.
ROSE You!
ROGER Guilty.
ROSE I’ll say.
ROGER I was reading that!
ROSE Oh, Roger.
ROGER Been a long time, Rosie.
ROSE You don’t get to call me that, anymore.
ROGER Hmm. Okay. (Beat.) Rose.
Uncomfortable beat. You flew?
ROSE Sure did. (Beat.) You?
ROGER (Nodding.) Mom’s health is failing.
ROSE Ah.
ROGER You should come up to see her. We’re not that far away. Milwaukee is practically a suburb of Chicago. Isn’t that what you used to say?
ROSE I haven’t seen the inside of my apartment in Chicago for six months.
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ROGER —The wages of sin?
ROSE I wish. Just on the road. A “Fledermaus” in Akron, a “Kiss Me Kate” in St. Louis…. Anyway, I didn’t think … considering … that she would want to see the … ex-wife.
ROGER Naw. I’ve always been pretty sure that she likes you better than me.
(ROSE smiles; SHE changes the subject.)
ROSE Trouble getting a cab?
ROGER Same old—.
ROSE Newark?
ROGER LaGuardia.
ROSE You beat me here.
ROGER You flew in from O’Hare, too?
ROSE No. L.A. I’m up for a sitcom—.
ROGER (Tired.) Of course. I should have known. (Uncomfortable beat.)
ROSE (Gesturing, and trying another tack.) Rain.
ROGER (Hard.) The Irish call it “piss rain.”
ROSE digests HIS anger, then tries, gently, yet another tack.
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ROSE You can hear him composing in there.
ROGER Yeah. (Beat.) Just like old times.
ROSE Yeah.
NO. 2: “I Hear America Singing”
ROBBIE I HEAR AMERICA SINGING THE VARIED CAROLS, I HEAR.
ROGER joins ROBBIE SO BLITHE AND STRONG, SO LOUD AND LONG,
ROSE BEHOLD OUR SONGS, ARE GENUINE AND TRUE.
ALL THREE I HEAR AMERICA SINGING BENEATH THE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE. EACH VOICE I HEAR RINGS PROUD AND CLEAR, PROCLAIMING FREEDOM’S CALL FOR ME AND YOU.
ROBBIE I SING AMERICA’S ANTHEMS, OUR MUSICS, NEW SONGS AND OLD,
ALL THREE I SING TO BRING LIGHT TO THE DARKEST NIGHT, BEHOLD THE SIGHT OF PEOPLE THAT ARE FREE
ROBBIE rises from the piano. ALL THREE continue, a capella, as HE comes around front, hugs ROSE, shakes hands with ROGER, and seats HIMSELF on the center stool.
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TO SING AMERICA’S ANTHEMS BENEATH THE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE. EACH VOICE I HEAR RINGS PROUD AND CLEAR, PROCLAIMING FREEDOM’S CALL FOR ME AND YOU.
ROSE (Laughing.) Isn’t that how it, went, Robbie?
ROBBIE (To ROSE.) A pity that the rest of the show stank.
ROSE I sorta’ liked that song, though.
ROGER (To ROSE.) I wasn’t paid. Were you?
ROSE (To ROGER.) Honestly, Roger, I don’t remember.
ROBBIE (To ROSE.) I sorta’ did, too. After all, I wrote it.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) Oh, it was a long, long time ago.
ROGER (Aside, shaking his head.) Nope. Not a dime.
ROBBIE (To ROSE.) Back when…
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) …you (indicating ROBBIE) were straight…
ROGER (To ROSE.) ..and you (indicating ROSE.)…
ROSE (To ROGER.) …yes, I know. I (indicating HERSELF) was married to you (indicating ROGER), darling.
ROBBIE (Aside.) It was a long, long time ago.
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ROGER (To ROBBIE.) What do you mean by that?
ROSE Boys.
ROBBIE (To ROGER.) Only that it was a long, long time ago, Roger.
ROSE Boys.
ROGER (Crossing HIS arms, to ROBBIE, shaking HIS head.) Nope, pal. Never paid. Not a dime. Not a wooden nickel. Not a cent.
ROBBIE (Rising from HIS stool, to ROGER) It wasn’t my fault. Shows close.
ROGER (to ROSE.) Yeah. And people get divorced.
ROSE Dammit!
ROGER (Rising, to ROBBIE.) Not your fault? The critics pasted us. It was your score, Robbie. Some Sondheim you are.
ROSE (Rising, exasperated.) Not that again!
Beat. ROSE places a hand on each man’s chest and gently pushes HIM back down on HIS stool.
ROBBIE (Quietly, to BOTH.) So. You’re here.
Beat. ROGER turns away. ROSE reaches for ROBBIE’S hand.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) You called.
ROBBIE (Smiling gratefully.) Rosie. HE Looks over his glasses at ROGER’S back. ROSE looks.
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ROSE (To ROGER’S back, tenderly.) Ro-o-oger.
ROGER (Turning.) Oh, please.
ROBBIE (To ROGER.) Listen. I know it’s been a long time.
ROGER (To ROBBIE, beginning rueful.) You got famous. (Beat, turning bitter) You got busy. (Ending angry) And I never got paid.
ROSE Oh. For. Pete’s. Sake.
ROGER (Quietly. Beat. Then, tenderly hurt.) And. You never called.
ROBBIE I’m calling now.
ROGER Yes. (Beat) What do you want, Robbie?
ROBBIE moves to the piano, sits down, and begins accompanying HIMSELF.
ROBBIE Say, do you remember this one?
NO. 3: “The Vacant Chair”
ROBBIE WE SHALL MEET BUT WE SHALL MISS HIM THERE WILL BE ONE VACANT CHAIR; WE SHALL LINGER TO CARESS HIM, WHILE WE BREATHE OUR EV’NING PRAYER: WHEN A YEAR AGO WE GATHERED, JOY WAS IN HIS MILD BLUE EYE, BUT A GOLDEN CHORD IS SEVERED, AND OUR HOPES IN RUIN LIE.
WE SHALL MEET BUT WE SHALL MISS HIM, THERE WILL BE ONE VACANT CHAIR, WE SHALL LINGER TO CARESS HIM WHEN WE BREATHE OUR EV’NING PRAYER.
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ROGER AT OUR FIRESIDE, SAD AND LONELY, OFTEN WILL THE BOSOM SWELL AT REMEMBRANCE OF THE STORY, HOW OUR NOBLE BROTHER FELL; HOW HE STROVE TO BEAR OUR BANNER THROUGH THE THICKEST OF THE FIGHT, AND UPHOLD OUR COUNTRY’S HONOR, IN THE STRENGTH OF MANHOOD’S NIGHT.
ALL THREE WE SHALL MEET BUT WE SHALL MISS HIM, THERE WILL BE ONE VACANT CHAIR, WE SHALL LINGER TO CARESS HIM WHEN WE BREATHE OUR EV’NING PRAYER.
ROBBIE (Still playing, under.) Washburn and Root wrote that song. Remember? I arranged it for that bicentennial revue we did in ’76. We played 76 towns in 76 days, or something like that.
ROGER I remember. You were the music director. And for that, I recall having been paid.
ROBBIE stops playing abruptly, pulls some change out of HIS pocket, and throws it on the piano lid.
ROBBIE Money, money, enough about the goddam money! That’s not why you came back, and you know it. That’s not why you went into this business in the first place. So, we were young, and stupid and naive, but we were still men of the theater, and a real man of the theater knows how it works, all of it. And he still says yes. So what if the world we thought we would inhabit is gone? Maybe it never existed in the first place, not like it was in our dreams anyway. Maybe no one will care; maybe no one will get it, whatever we do. But it doesn’t matter if nobody gets it. The fact is it’s there, the craft is there, the years of wanting and living and reaching and learning, all of it there, hidden in plain sight, a beacon shining for a lonely traveler who might never come. And we could make that, together. Us. That’s all I care about. Us. The beacon we make together. It’s the only chance I have of possibly being known as I am. (Beat.) If you don’t want that, then I’ve been wrong about you for a long, long time. But I’m not wrong. I’ve heard you sing.
ROGER turns to leave. ROSE holds HIS arm.
ROSE (Wry.) The sound you are hearing at this moment is that of a pin dropping.
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ROGER (Reflexive.) Or a needle digging into my arm.
ROBBIE (Sighing.) You always knew how to start something, Roger.
ROGER Right. And you always knew how to end things. (Beat.) I repeat: What do you want from me, Robbie?
ROBBIE What do I want? (Beat.) I want it like it was.
ROSE That’s not possible, sweetie.
ROBBIE (Fatalistic.) I know.
ROGER (Sarcastic.) And I want my hairline back. (Softer) How about what I want?
ROBBIE Okay?
ROGER How about starting with an apology?
Long beat.
ROBBIE shakes his head no and begins to play, under. ROSE moves to ROGER and sings to HIM.
NO. 4: “Remember How it Was?”
ROSE (To ROGER.) REMEMBER HOW IT WAS? YOU AND I WERE POOR BUT HAPPY THEN. WE HAD OUR LOVE TO KEEP US WARM IN ALL THOSE CHILLY HOTEL ROOMS. TWO KIDS WITH OPEN ARMS, LIVING OUT THEIR DREAMS.
ROSE and ROGER IT NEVER WAS THE WAY WE THOUGHT. WE SHARED OUR DREAMS AND FOUGHT A LOT.
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BUT I STILL LOVE YOU, THAT MUCH I’VE STILL GOT.
ROGER I KNOW HOW IT WAS. YOU WERE JUST A KID BACK THEN. I LOVED YOU SIMPLY, HEAVEN KNOWS, YOU LEFT ME. THAT’S THE WAY IT GOES. ANOTHER’S OPEN ARMS. SO MUCH FOR OUR DREAMS.
ROSE and ROGER YOU NEVER CALLED, / YOU NEVER WROTE. WE RARELY FOUGHT, / WE BARELY SPOKE.
ROSE THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS. YOU WERE DRUNK…
ROGER …AND YOU WERE RARELY THERE.
ROSE I NEEDED HELP TO MAKE IT RIGHT WHEN, AFTER COUNTLESS SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, I BARELY KNEW YOU.
ROSE / ROGER THAT WAS HOW IT SEEEMED. / THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS.
ROSE and ROGER IT NEVER WAS THE WAY WE THOUGHT. WE SHARED A DREAM; IT CAME TO NAUGHT. BUT I STILL LOVE YOU, THAT MUCH I’VE STILL GOT.
ROBBIE continues to play, under, as HE speaks.
ROBBIE Okay, you’re here.
ROGER and ROSE We’re here.
ROBBIE stops playing.
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ROBBIE Roger, I’m sorry. I really am.
ROGER For what? Come on. Say it.
ROBBIE I’m sorry I dropped you when you and Rosie split up. I didn’t know what to say. And then the bus and truck of “On the Town” happened and I was on the road for six months…. And then…. My new maniac boyfriend didn’t want me to talk to you and I let him boss me around… and … Oh. I don’t know. I’m sorry. (Beat.) Forgive me?
ROGER (Singing, a capella.) I HEAR AMERICA SINGING…
ROGER (Continuing, spoken.) Do you? (Beat.) Do you really hear America singing? I mean: really?
ROBBIE (HE shrugs yes, palms up.) Yeah.
ROGER I liked that song. (Beat.) And I like you. (Beat.)
ROGER sits down next to ROBBIE on the piano bench. I’m sorry. THEY hug.
ROSE Boys. Get a room.
ROGER (Without inflection, getting up.) Ha. (To ROSE, HIS back to ROBBIE) I’ll bet he’s got a new show.
ROGER turns HIS back to ROBBIE. It’s been a long time since those revues we did together in the Village, baby.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) You got a new show?
ROBBIE (Smiling tentatively.) I gotta new show.
ROGER (Aside.) He’s gotta new show.
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Excited, ROSE runs over to the piano, pushes ROBBIE to the edge of the bench, and pages through the music on the rack.
ROSE Oh, God! Show me. Show me now.
ROGER Any backers, yet?
ROSE Kill joy.
ROGER Is anybody gonna get paid?
ROSE Rog. Stop it. (To ROBBIE.) Don’t listen to him. You’re writing! Honey, that’s so great. Show me something.
ROGER Oh, Rosie, STOP it. I’m too old for this. I’m going.
ROGER picks up HIS newspaper and stuffs it under HIS arm.
ROBBIE (To ROGER.) Wait!
ROGER (HIS back to ROBBIE and ROSE.) So?
ROBBIE (Intense.) I’ve got a backer’s audition. In a black box. About forty potentials. The Usuals. Plus the whales say their sending people.
ROGER (Interested.) Macintosh? Jujamcyn? The Walt Disney people?
ROSE Are you serious? Disney: the Mouse?
ROGER Why not? The Mouse pays.
ROBBIE Yes. The Mouse pays.
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ROGER And so does the Really Useful Group.
ROSE That’s just going from Mouse to Rat, if you ask me.
ROGER Sir Andrew Lloyd Rat, to you.
ROBBIE Not this again. (Bitter, bitchy.) Gonna go and sing some more “Phantoms,” hotshot?
ROGER The Mouse and the Rat pay better than you. Who sometimes does not pay at all.
ROSE (With finality.) Okay, that’s enough. Rog. This is not fun. If you want me to be nice to you, then you be nice to Robbie.
ROGER throws up HIS hands and moves to the piano.
ROGER I didn’t leave my mom and come back to New York all the way from Milwaukee to argue. with you, Robbie. You want to pitch? Then pitch.
ROBBIE begins playing, under, as HE describes the project.
ROBBIE It’s another stab at “America Singing,” twenty-five years later. There’s a place for patriotism, for Jeffersonian revolution that doesn’t involve Tea Parties and government shutdowns….
ROGER You forget, I’m a Republican, pal.
ROBBIE No, it’s not like that. It’s a “revolution of the heart.”
ROSE positions HERSELF behind ROBBIE, places HER hands on HIS shoulders, and peers at the music on the rack.
ROSE Oh, I like it.
ROGER What does that even mean?
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ROBBIE I’m taking patriotic songs from American history and shining a contemporary light on them to show…
ROGER (Breaking in.) Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
ROBBIE (Pitching) Um. —Sort of. To show that it is love, love and loss, that binds us together as a nation. The love that drives us to help one another, overcome self-interest. Old songs; new lyrics. New songs; old lyrics. Everything in the public domain—out of copyright. We need a revolution of the heart.
ROGER Are you nuts?
ROBBIE (Excited.) Listen to this.
NO. 5: “Look in Your Heart and Let’s Join Hands”
ROBBIE LOOK IN YOUR HEART AND LET’S JOIN HANDS TO BRING REBIRTH TO OUR FAIR LAND. COMPASSION BE THE THING THAT GUIDES US; IN ALL MATTERS, MAKE US WISE
ROGER OH, TAX AND SPEND OUR HARD-EARNED CASH YE LIBERALS WITH YOUR BRAINS AND FLASH.
ROSE MEND HEARTS THAT BROKE ON THAT FAIR DAY WHEN TWO PROUD TOWERS FELL AWAY. REMEMBER HOW WE STOOD AS ONE, AND DARK DEBRIS OBSCURED THE SUN.
ROBBIE PLEASE, TAKE US NOT AGAIN TO WAR BUT GIVE US PEACE FOREVER MORE.
ROGER BE STRONG, PROTECT US FROM ALL THOSE WHO SEEK TO HURT US. HEAVEN KNOWS OUR FOES ARE MANY, AND ARE STRONG, THE WAR ON TERROR WILL BE LONG.
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ALL THREE ALL CITIZENS, LET US UNITE TO CALL FOR JUSTICE, TRUTH, AND LIGHT.
ROSE Pretty—.
ROGER Pretty preachy.
ROBBIE The original hymn is in the public domain.
ROGER That’s my boy.
ROBBIE The investors will love that.
ROGER Yeah, but the lyrics are pretty “lefty.”
ROBBIE Right.
ROGER No. Left.
ROBBIE Right.
ROSE Are you two really gonna do this?
ROGER If you’re gonna do a patriotic show, then you’ve gotta have a march.
ROSE Oh, God. You are.
ROGER (Conducting ROBBIE.) Right. Left.
ROSE (To ROGER, overlapping.) You really have no shame, you know.
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ROGER (Nodding affirmatively, answering ROSE.) Right. Left.
NO. 6: “Stripes and Stars”
ROGER I LOVE A MARCH THAT WILL MAKE ME WANT TO SING!
OH, PLAY ME A MARCH IN STRAIGHT TWO-FOUR WITH A TRIO THAT I CAN HUM, ROB. EVEN IF I CAN’T CARRY A TUNE, THAT’S FINE, I WILL LOVE IT EVEN THAT MUCH MORE.
SO WHAT’S UP WITH THOSE “FINE FEATHERED FRIENDS?” THAT’S A LYRIC I JUST CANNOT FATHOM. MY MOTHER DOES NOT CHIRP, SHE SINGS, THOUGH SHE TWEETS ON TWITTER NIGHTLY WITH HER GIRLFRIENDS.
[INSTRUMENTAL] I KNOW THESE WORDS MAKE NO SENSE! [INSTRUMENTAL] TRICKY LYRICS MAKE ME TENSE! [INSTRUMENTAL] ROSIE! [INSTRUMENTAL] JOIN ME! [INSTRUMENTAL] THIS IS WHERE WE SING THE PART THAT REALLY BRINGS IT HOME….
SO WHAT’S UP WITH THOSE “FINE FEATHERED FRIENDS?”
ROSE (Piccolo Part) I DON’T WANT TO MAKE A LOT OF FUSS, BUT WHY IS IT I HAVE TO SING…
ROGER THAT’S A LYRIC I JUST CANNOT FATHOM.
ROSE ALL THE FAST PARTS AND THE HIGH PARTS AND THE NOTES THAT REALLY HAVE TO RING?
ROGER MY MOTHER DOES NOT CHIRP, SHE SINGS,
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ROSE I DON’T MIND THE CHIRPING, TWEETING, DUMMY LYRICS, SINGING REALLY SILLY THINGS….,
ROGER THOUGH SHE TWEETS ON TWITTER NIGHTLY WITH HER GIRLFRIENDS.
ROSE I JUST WISH I GOT TO SING THE TUNE BEFORE THE END.
ROGER and ROSE, laughing, fall into one another’s arms during the applause. ROBBIE noodles at the piano under the ensuing dialogue.
ROGER Aw, Rosie. There’s a beat during which ROSE seems poised to kiss ROGER.
ROSE breaks away and makes a circuit of the stage, gesticulating.
ROSE Oh, no. No. No. No. That’s how you did it the first time. That’s how you always do it. You evil man. I remember everything. I even remember how beautiful you made breaking up.
As SHE speaks, ROGER moves to the piano, pushes the books and music to one side, moves two stools to the piano, unfurls a checkered table cloth, and, with some ceremony, wine glasses, into which HE pours wine.
ROSE (Continued.) You … in our favorite restaurant. At closing time. The wine. The waiter. You cleared the place. Oh, for heaven’s sake, Roger.
ROGER shows ROSE to HER stool as ROBBIE segues into the song.
NO. 7: “Our Love’s Absence”
ROSE THEY’RE THOUGHTFUL HERE
ROGER TO LET US STAY HERE SO LATE
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ROGER and ROSE LONG AFTER THE CURTAINS ARE DRAWN.
ROBBIE (From the piano.) A WAITER STROLLS FROM THE BACK ROOM WITH A PLATE OF STEW OR SAVOURY SOUP,
ROGER and ROSE AND PLACES HIS PLATE AT THE NEXT TABLE BUT ONE.
WE KNOW, DEAREST LOVE, THAT IT’S OVER, HARD TIMES, OR ANOTHER, HAVE COME BETWEEN US.
ROGER WHATEVER WE ARE, OR WERE.
ROSE WHATEVER WE ARE, OR WERE,
ROBBIE (From the piano.) WHATEVER WE ARE, OR WERE. THE WAITER STROKES THE HAIR ON HIS HEAD
ROGER and ROSE AND LOOKS TO US FOR A SIGN.
THEY hold hands for a moment, and their eyes meet. Emotion. ROSE pulls HER hand away, rises, and walks away from ROGER as SHE sings.
ROGER and ROSE THEN ASKS US, GENTLY, ARE WE DONE? MORE WINE? MORE CHEESE? MORE BREAD? MORE SOMETHING—, SHE turns back to ROGER and sings from across the stage.
MORE TIME ITSELF, THE TIME WE’VE SIMPLY BORROWED. ROGER rises and moves to ROSE.
ROGER AND SMILES
ROSE AND SMILES
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ROSE and ROGER AND BOWS TO OUR LOVE’S ABSENCE.
ROSE begins to weep, backs away from the piano and ROGER, fumbles for HER raincoat, and begins to leave.
ROSE I can’t do this, Roger. Sorry, Robbie, I can’t. I just can’t. Get another girl.
ROGER lifts HIS hands and looks to ROBBIE, who puts HIS hand to HIS forehead and looks down at the keyboard. ROSE forgets HER umbrella, grabs the scarf from the key table and exits.
ROGER picks up a wine glass and begins to raise it to HIS lips. ROBBIE looks up from the piano at HIM. THEY lock eyes. Beat. ROBBIE raises HIS hand as though to disassociate HIMSELF from ROGER.
ROGER puts the glass down, backs away slowly from the piano, then pivots, picks up ROSE’S folded umbrella, leaves HIS, still open, downstage, and rushes out after HER, as the LIGHTS dim.
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SCENE 2: The LIGHTS rise on ROBBIE, who has fallen asleep at the piano. It is the next morning. The SOUND of traffic rises. A car alarm is tripped. ROBBIE jerks awake at the SOUND, stretches, cracks HIS knuckles, yawns, and fumbles without looking for HIS watch, which is sitting next to the juice glass filled with pens and pencils. HE checks the time. The car alarm stops; the SOUND fades away under the following lines.
ROBBIE (Croaking.) Ugh. Coffee.
HE reaches without looking for the juice glass and lifts it to HIS face.
Ach!
HE gets up and reaches for the wine bottle atop the piano. Reflexively, HE jerks HIS hand back. HIS fingers curl. HE pivots away and returns to the keyboard.
Ah-ah-ah!
Seating HIMSELF, he launches into some obscenely difficult Liszt. After a few minutes, HE stops suddenly, and, without inflection, comments.
Meh.
HE pages through the music on the rack and launches back into the Liszt. The SOUND of HIS cell phone ringing. HE pounces for it.
Saved!
HE puts the phone to HIS ear.
Whoever you are, it’s you or Liszt. Better you.
HE listens for a moment, softens.
Oh. Hi, Rosie. I know. Yes, you can come right over. What happened?
HE listens.
Okay, okay. Wait. Where are you? You’re right outside!
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The SOUND of a buzzer ringing. HE runs to the door, still talking on HIS cell phone.
Tell me you brought coffee with you. That’s my Rosie-marie.
HE pivots. ROSE enters, just behind HIM, balancing a cardboard carrier with four enormous cardboard Starbucks coffee cups in it. SHE has a purse slung over HER shoulder.
ROSE (Leading ROBBIE to the piano.) Aren’t you glad I still have keys to your place after all these years? I forgot what you preferred, so I got one of each: a venti-half-chai-half-soy-milk-latte-with-an-extra-shot; a venti-skim-latte- with-caramel-and-extra-foam; a venti-half-caff-with-steamed-milk-and-vanilla; and a venti-drip- with-two-extra-shots.
HE lunges for the black coffee.
Easy, tiger.
HE opens the coffee and prowls back to his lair behind the piano.
ROBBIE I’m not coming out until you tell me what happened last night.
ROSE sets the coffees on the piano and settle HERSELF on a stool. SHE looks dubiously at the coffees, then pulls a water bottle from HER purse and takes a pull. SHE notices ROGER’S umbrella. SHE begins to sing, a capella.
NO. 8: “Gone Away Gloss”
ROSE HE’S BEEN AWAY FOR TO STAY A LITTLE WHILE. I CAN BRING HIM BACK, THOUGH HE’S GONE TEN THOUSAND MILES.
ROBBIE (Accompanying HIMSELF.) OH, I WILL SING WITH YOU.
ROSE and ROBBIE AND I WILL SING WITH YOU.
ROSE BUT YOU DON’T WANT MY RUBY LIPS. AND HE IS GONE.
23 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROBBIE (Spoken, still playing.) You’re not still in love with him, Rosie. Are you?
ROSE and ROBBIE GONE AWAY. FAR AWAY, OVER YONDRO…
ROSE picks up ROGER’S umbrella and swings it over HER HEAD as SHE speaks.
ROSE Oh, like I said, it was a long time ago. But he caught up to me last night. And he didn’t drink, Robbie, he didn’t. He says he’s been sober for fourteen months.
ROBBIE (Breaking in, singing.) HE DRANK AWAY TWENTY YEARS. THAT’S QUITE A WHILE. (Bitter.) THERE, BUT NOT QUITE THERE; HIGH ON WHISKY ON THE ROCKS.
ROSE HE SAYS THAT HE IS DRY.
ROBBIE A DRUNK CAN’T HELP BUT LIE.
ROSE and ROBBIE BUT WE’LL STILL LOVE HIM, ANYWAY. WE’LL BOTH HOLD ON.
ROBBIE (Spoken, still playing.) You are. You are still in love with him.
ROSE and ROBBIE GONE AWAY. FAR AWAY AWAY, OVER YONDRO…
ROBBIE Oh, sweetie, when are you going to learn?
ROSE (Putting down the umbrella.) You should talk.
ROBBIE Yeah.
ROSE He’s on his way here. He’s afraid you’re hiring him out of … pity.
24 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROBBIE What?
ROSE He still feels badly about the thing in Chicago.
ROBBIE (Indicating.) The “thing in Chicago” was him getting fired for being a drunk.
ROSE He says that he hasn’t had a drink since. He hasn’t been getting cast. People won’t trust him. And then, he moved back to Milwaukee to take care of his mom.
ROBBIE She called did you know? She says she’s fine. She wonders why he moved back.
ROSE Really?
ROBBIE I didn’t know what to say. He’s been living off of residuals for that hardware chain commercial he shot two years ago.
ROSE It isn’t pity, is it?
ROBBIE No, it isn’t pity. He still looks the part: he’s a good-looking bastard. And he can act. I need him.
OFFSTAGE, ROGER is singing a loud, lusty chorus of the song, “Rye Whisky.”
NO. 9: “Rye Whisky,” adapted from Lomax, page 140
ROGER (A capella, off.) I’LL EAT WHEN I’M HINGRY, I’LL DRINK WHEN I’M DRY; IF THE HARD TIMES DON’T KILL ME, I’LL LAY DOWN AND DIE.
I’LL DRINK MY OWN WHISKY, I’LL MAKE MY OWN WINE; SOME TEN THOUSAND BOTTLES I’VE KILLED IN MY TIME.
25 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROGER bursts onstage, wearing a tweed blazer, with a scarf wrapped around HIS neck. HE carries flowers in one hand, and a wrapped gift in the other.
RYE WHISKY, RYE WHISKY, YOU’RE NO FRIEND TO ME; YOU KILLED MY POOR DADDY, GODDAMN YOU, TRY ME!
ROBBIE and ROSE stare at ROGER, stunned. ROGER places the gift on a stool.
ROGER Oh, fear not, children. I am sober. Really. Rose! Just a little something to lighten the tone.
ROBBIE Lighten—?
ROSE —Whose load?
ROBBIE (Skeptical.) You gotta load on, Rog?
ROGER (Giving a Scout salute.) Scout’s honor, Robbie. ROGER hands the flowers to ROSE. SHE curtsies.
For you, ex-wife. HE kisses HER lightly, and dumps the box in ROBBIE’S lap. HE picks up the present and presents it to ROBBIE.
For you, Maestro. ROBBIE is excited, despite HIMSELF. HE clearly loves presents. HE unwraps it just enough to see….
ROBBIE (Gasping with delight.) Ah! A new espresso machine!
ROGER To replace the one I threw out the window during rehearsals for “America Singing,” remember?
ROSE Scared the bejeezus out of me—.
26 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROBBIE Scared the bejeezus out of my downstairs neighbor, too. It fell on the glass table on his porch and shattered it.
ROGER (Breezily, crossing to the piano.) Fortunes of war. Listen, I’ve got it. Sit down.
ROGER pulls some sheet music from HIS blazer. He places it on the rack and manhandles ROBBIE on to the piano bench.
ROGER (Continuing.) Here’s the set-up: I play a Rebel soldier at the beginning of the show. Play! I sing this—.
NO. 10: “I’m a Good Old Rebel / Dear Youth”
ROGER (Robustly, as the Soldier.) OH, I’M A GOOD OLD REBEL, NOW THAT’S JUST WHAT I AM, AND FOR THIS YANKEE NATION, I DO NOT GIVE A DAMN. I’M GLAD I FOUGHT AGAINST YER, I ONLY WISH WE WON. I AINT ASKED ANY PARDON FOR ANYTHING I’VE DONE.
(Spoken.) See, see. Then, Rosie (HE shoots HER a look.) sings this slow thing, with the rebel tune in the orchestra. She’s a nurse, see, and she’s tending to a confederate soldier, me.
HE sings a wordless vocalise of the tune, under, as ROSE sings the Nurse’s part.
ROSE (Gently, as the Nurse.) TWO HANDS, SMALL, THIN, AND WHITE, TREMULOUS, REACHING AFTER THINGS INVISIBLE, HAVE LAIN IN MINE HOUR AFTER HOUR TODAY; TWO EYES LIKE BURNING COALS ROLL, GLEAM, RECEDE IN TERROR.
ROGER (Spoken.) He has a comrade, see, who comes up and sings—.
(Robustly) THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND YANKEES IS STIFF IN SOUTHERN DUST. WE GOT THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND BEFORE THEY CONQUERED US. THEY DIED OF SOUTHERN FEVER
27 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
AND SOUTHERN STEEL AND SHOT. I WISH THERE WERE THREE MILLION INSTEAD OF WHAT WE GOT.
ROGER resumes the wordless vocalise of the tune, under, as ROSE resumes the Nurse’s part.
ROSE (Gently.) HIS EYES SOFTEN TO TEARS BEFORE MINE; TWO CHEEKS, PURPLE WITH FEVER, A SWEET MOUTH, AND BEARDLESS CHIN, TEETH A GIRL MIGHT ENVY, AND A WIDE FAIR BROW FROM WHICH LIGHT BROWN HAIR FALLAS AWAY
ROSE and ROGER THIS IS THE PICTURE GRAVED INTO MY HEART.
ROGER and ROBBIE sing the wordless vocalise under ROSE as SHE concludes.
ROSE (As the Nurse.) THE HAIR AT LENGTH IS SMOOTHED, A LOCK CUT FROM IT FOR HIS MOTHER, AND THE LIMBS STRAIGHTENED. OH, THE MANLY BEAUTY.
ROBBIE holds the beat, then suddenly begins to play the next song.
NO. 11: “The Trouble Is”
ROSE (To ROGER.) THE TROUBLE IS YOU’RE STILL IN LOVE WITH ME.
ROGER (To ROBBIE.) THE TROUBLE IS SHE’S STILL IN LOVE WITH ME BUT I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH HER ANYMORE.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE THAT HE’S SO FULL OF IT.
ROGER (To ROSE.) I STILL LOVE THE WAY YOU MOVE AND THINK, BUT YOU DO NOT BELIEVE IN ME.
ROSE (To ROGER.) TELL HIM TO STOP THIS OR I’LL CALL THE COPS.
28 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROGER (To ROSE.) SO, LET’S JUST STAY GOOD FRIENDS FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) AND I THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE STILL ON MY SIDE.
ROGER (To ROSE.) WE’RE NO LONGER MARRIED.
ROSE (To ROGER.) I CAN’T BELIEVE I AM STILL STANDING HERE WITH YOU.
ROGER (To ROSE.) WE’LL REMAIN TRUE TO ONE ANOTHER FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES.
ROSE (To ROBBIE.) OH, NO, WE WON’T!
ROBBIE leaps to HIS feet, laughing, excited, moving reflexively into “pitch” mode.
ROBBIE That’s it! That’s it! The show is about how relationships evolve and revolve, the cyclic nature of love and life. How we fall down and get up again. An American “La Ronde!” A “revolution” of the wheel of life! An “evolution of the heart.” A series of vignettes like in the Max Ophüls film.
ROSE (Affectionately teasing.) Did you say “awful?”
ROGER (To ROSE.) I think he said “offal.”
ROSE and ROBBIE Ew!
ROBBIE Max Ophüls, the film director, you Philistines.
ROSE (To ROGER.) Didn’t we see something of his at the Oriental?
ROGER (Weighing the words with HIS hands.) Offal. Awful. Ophüls. Old Fools. Meh.
ROBBIE (To ROGER.) They say that compulsive punning is a symptom of psychosis, you know.
29 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROSE (Still teasing, taking a seat on a stool.) I would have thought you were aiming more for Puccini’s “La Rondine.”
ROBBIE (Deadpan.) You won’t see that at the Oriental.
ROGER (Deadpan.) Maybe at the Skylight?
ROSE Hey, Puccini could spin a tune.
ROBBIE Don’t tempt me to school you, Miss Rosie. Listen: the two of you are living the story I want to tell. I love the song you brought in Rog. I’ll work it in for you. Will you sing the backer’s audition? Will you? Maybe I can get John Kander to throw his weight behind us. I worked on “Kiss of the Spiderwoman” and he owes me one. I’ve got a concept. The songs are coming—.
ROBBIE stops suddenly, realizing that perhaps HE’S overextended HIMSELF. ROGER is beaming, drinking in their enthusiasm, clearly loving THEM. HE seems to be nearly skirting tears.
ROGER (Tentatively.) Does that mean … you’re going to hire me?
ROBBIE looks down at the keyboard, avoiding ROGER’S gaze.
ROBBIE (Quietly. Hard.) One question. Are you sober? At. This. Moment?
ROGER clenches HIS fist and wrings HIS mouth into a grimace. HE spins away from ROBBIE and ROSE.
ROGER (Very quiet, regaining HIS composure.) I can’t believe that you would ask me that.
ROBBIE (Embarrassed.) …The backers. We’re not kids, anymore. I’m not as attractive an investment as I used to be. The economy. Insurance….
ROGER (Sighing.) Yeah. I know. “Never too old to audition.” I get it. (Beat.) You want to see if I still have it? You remember that setting of William Blake you composed for me when we were students at Juilliard? (ROBBIE shrugs.) Well, I do, even if you don’t. Back then you composed art songs not pop songs. I knew you and I believed in you before anyone else gave a damn about you. Listen.
30 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
You called. I flew all the way back to New York from Wisconsin for you. (Hard. Angry.) Play it. If you want me to audition for you, then play for me. I know you remember how to play everything you write.
ROGER moves center and assumes a traditional concert pose.
NO. 12: “O Rose, Thou Art Sick”
ROGER O ROSE, THOU ART SICK. THE INVISIBLE WORM THAT FLIES IN THE NIGHT THE HOWLING STORM HAS FOUND OUT THY BED OF CRIMSON JOY.
AND HIS SECRET LOVE DOES THY LIFE DESTROY.
ROSE (Applauding.) Boy, you were one serious graduate student, Robbie.
ROBBIE (To ROGER.) And you are still a hell of a singer, Roger. Thank you. You’re hired.
ROSE (Lightly, attempting to cut the tension.) Was that song about ME? Hey. You were straight back then. Were you writing about moi? Listen, if you’re going to make Baritone Hair audition, then I’ll audition, too. Remember the song you wrote for me back then? Very Ned Rorem, as I recall.
SHE rises from HER stool, moves center, takes a concert stance, curtsies gracefully, and clears HER throat. ROGER elaborately cedes the position in the bow of the piano and sits on a stool DL, crossing HIS arms as though in preparation for a very long performance.
ROSE (Addressing the audience.) Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I will sing, “I am Rose,” a setting of the poem by Gertrude Stein by Robbie Lieberhaftakovichspitzlerhagen, student of David Diamond, Class of 1986.
SHE nods to ROBBIE. NO. 13: “I am Rose”
ROSE I AM ROSE MY EYES ARE BLUE
31 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
I AM ROSE AND WHO ARE YOU I AM ROSE AND WHEN I SING I AM ROSE LIKE ANYTHING.
ROBBIE and ROGER break into broad “bravas” and “encores” as ROSE bows extravagantly.
ROBBIE (To ROSE.) You’re hired!
ROSE moves to ROGER and pinches HIS cheek.
ROSE (Very Ruth Gordon as Maude.) Never too old to audition, honey.
ROGER (Quietly, looking down.) Sober.
ROBBIE What?
ROGER (More firmly, meeting ROBBIE’S eyes.) I said I’m sober.
ROSE and ROGER turn to ROBBIE, who has risen from the piano bench, looking earnest.
ROBBIE All right, then. (Beat.) Well. Okay. If we’re going to do this, we have about twenty-four hours to prepare. This isn’t Mickey and Judy putting on a show. This is putting all the money on red and spinning. The Cherry Lane black box is booked for tomorrow at 8. It’s going to be an all-nighter, just like our salad days.
ROGER and ROSE clearly enact a long-ago good-luck ritual as they march ROBBIE to the door.
ROGER Dinner?
ROBBIE (Agreeing.) Dinner.
ROSE Diner.
32 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROGER Fries?
ROBBIE French. ROGER (Correcting ROBBIE.) “Freedom.”
ROBBIE Pickles?
ROGER Kosher.
ROSE Dill.
ROGER Coffee?
ROSE Hot.
ROBBIE Okay, okay! I’m coming!
ROGER grabs the fedora and places it on ROBBIE’S head before pushing HIM out the door. ROGER first looks backwards into ROBBIE’S apartment, then gives ROSE a hug. THEY exit, arms intertwined as the LIGHTS fade and the SOUND of traffic rises.
33 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
SCENE 3: Later the same night, ROSE and ROGER enter ROBBIE’S apartment, now dark. The SOUND fades as, arm in arm, THEY sing and giggle like a couple in love.
NO. 14: “When I Was Single,” adapted from two versions of “When I Was Single,” Lomax, pp. 154-158.
ROSE moves to the lamp behind ROBBIE’S piano and switches it on as ROGER sings. The LIGHTS remain romantically dim.
ROGER (A capella.) WHEN I WAS SINGLE, OH, THEN, OH, THEN, WHEN I WAS SINGLE, OH, THEN— WHEN I WAS SINGLE MY POCKETS DID JUNGLE, AND I WISH I WAS SINGLE AGAIN.
ROSE (A capella.) WHEN I WAS SINGLE, WENT DRESSED SO FINE; NOW I AM MARRIED, GO RAGGED ALL THE TIME.
I WISH I WERE A SINGLE GIRL AGAIN, O LORD, DON’T I WISH I WERE A SINGLE GIRL AGAIN!
THEY laugh, embrace, and kiss.
ROSE Oh, dear.
ROGER Do you mean that in a good way?
SHE laughs and spins out of HIS arms, singing.
ROSE WHEN HE COMES IN, IT’S A CURSE AND A ROW, KNOCKING OVER FURNITURE AND PULLING MY HAIR.
I WISH I WERE A SINGLE GIRL AGAIN, O LORD, DON’T I WISH I WERE A SINGLE GIRL AGAIN!
ROGER SHE BEAT ME, SHE BANGED ME, OH, THEN, OH, THEN, SHE BEAT ME, SHE BANGED ME, OH, THEN— SHE BEAT ME, SHE BANGED ME,
34 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
SHE SWORE SHE WOULD HANG ME, I WISH I WAS SINGLE AGAIN.
ROSE Oh, dear!
ROGER (Louche.) I meant “beat me” in a good way!
HE moves toward HER with the intention of sweeping HER into HIS arms. SHE dodges HIM, laughing, and then singing. HE enacts HER lyric as SHE sings.
ROSE WHEN HE MAKES UP, HE’S AS SWEET AS A LAMB, STROKING MY HAIR, AND KISSING MY HAND.
MAKES ME WISH I WERE A MARRIED GIRL AGAIN, O LORD, DON’T I WISH I WERE A MARRIED GIRL AGAIN!
ROGER SHE MADE ME LOVE HER AGAIN, AGAIN, SHE MADE ME LOVE HER AGAIN. SHE TOLD ME SHE LOVES ME, AND ISN’T ABOVE ME, NOW I WISH WE WERE MARRIED AGAIN.
THEY kiss.
ROSE This is crazy.
ROGER Of course it is. It’s what we do best. It’s Robbie’s “revolution of love.” We were “in” love—
ROSE —and then “out—“
ROGER —and now, we’re back “in.”
ROSE He’s a crafty one, that Composer Boy of ours.
ROBBIE enters, wearing HIS fedora, and rubbing HIS hands together to warm them. HE tosses the hat on the piano.
35 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROGER (Turning toward ROBBIE.) Speak of the devil.
ROBBIE (Mock annoyed.) Someone had to pick up the check, lovebirds.
ROGER and ROSE look at each other, hands to mouths, in mock surprise.
ROGER (Arch, holding up his hand as though to call a halt.) “The Talent does not pay.”
ROBBIE (Wry.) Oh, it pays, all right.
ROSE (Singsong.) And pays, and plays—.
ROBBIE seats HIMSELF at the piano.
ROGER (Commanding, with an Eastern European accent.) So play, Gypsies, play!
NO. 15: “Oh, When I Was in Love With You”
ROBBIE (In mock high dudgeon.) OH, WHEN I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU, THEN I WAS SWEET AND BRAVE,
ROGER AND MILES AROUND, THE WONDER GREW HOW WELL DID I BEHAVE.
ROGER and ROSE NOW THAT I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU, I FEEL SO SWEET AND BRAVE, AND EVERY SMILE YOU GIVE TO ME INSPIRES ME TO BEHAVE.
ROBBIE AND NOW THE FANCY PASSES BY,
ROSE AND NOTHING WILL REMAIN,
36 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ALL THREE AND MILES AROUND THEY’LL SAY THAT I AM QUITE MYSELF AGAIN!
THEY laugh.
ROBBIE The bachelor’s life for me!
ROSE So it would appear!
NO. 16: “Little Apartment,” adapted from “The Old Bachelor,” Lomax, pp. 354-355.
ROBBIE I AM A STERN OLD BACHELOR, MY AGE IS FORTY-FOUR; I DO DECLARE I’LL NEVER LIVE WITH WOMEN ANY MORE.
ROGER (Spoken, to ROSE.) This is true.
ROBBIE LITTLE APARTMENT, APARTMENT LIFE FOR ME, FOR I’M A STERN OLD BACHELOR FROM MATRIMONY FREE.
ROSE (Spoken, to ROBBIE.) But gay marriage is now legal in New York State!
ROBBIE I GO TO BED WHENE’ER I PLEASE, AND GET UP JUST THE SAME; I CHANGE MY SOCKS THREE TIMES A YEAR
ROGER (Spoken.) I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that—.
ROBBIE WITH NO ONE TO COMPLAIN.
ROSE (Spoken.) Roger!
37 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROBBIE (with ROSE and ROGER singing backup in close harmony) LITTLE APARTMENT, APARTMENT LIFE FOR ME, FOR WE ARE STERN OLD BACHELORS FROM MATRIMONY FREE.
ROBBIE NEVERMORE TO FEEL UNDONE: MY SEXUALITY IS LEGAL IN MY COUNTRY’S EYES A REVOLUTION WON.
ROGER (Spoken.) Oh, dear.
ROSE (Spoken.) Oh, dear!
ROBBIE (with ROSE and ROGER singing backup in close harmony) LITTLE APARTMENT, APARTMENT LIFE FOR ME,
ROBBIE (Alone.) I WANT MY OWN DEAR BACHELOR, WITH WHOM TO SHARE MY LIFE.
ROGER That’s not going to be in the show, is it?
ROBBIE The show’s done. We’ll rehearse it just as it is for the rest of the day. We’ll kill tonight at the backer’s audition. Why not add this song? It’s catchy. Times have changed; people have evolved. Just another form of revolution.
ROGER More like a spin of the roulette wheel.
ROBBIE You never had a problem with my coming out before.
ROGER Never did. But can you put it in a family show? Does the “bridge and tunnel” crowd want to hear about this? What will the investors say?
38 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
ROBBIE (Standing up, firm.) No more closed closet doors. We need a “revolution of the heart.”
ROSE But, honey, the heart remains the same.
ROGER That’s not true. Love is always changing. People change. Countries change.
ROBBIE You’re making my point.
ROSE (Sincere.) “God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” John 4:16
ROBBIE (Agreeing.) “Love abides.”
ROGER Why do you have to push this, Robbie? Why can’t you just keep your personal business … personal? I thought you were trying to write a commercially viable show. This issue is poison. It is not entertaining. People don’t want to go to the theater to hear about it. I don’t want to sing about it. Why do you always do this to yourself? To me? (Beat. HE looks to ROSE for support.) To us? (SHE looks away.) I want your show to be a hit. I love you like a brother. I want it to be your big comeback. And, God knows, I … need the work. But this story line has got to go, or I go. I just can’t wrap my head around it.
ROBBIE looks down at the keyboard. ROSE continues to look away.
ROGER (Continuing.) Robbie! (HE gathers up HIS coat, and makes for the door.) I’m out. (Beat.) Rose! (He reaches toward HER.) Aren’t you coming with me?
SHE turns to look at HIM. ROBBIE looks up.
Fine. If you need me, I’ll be at McGlade’s Bar across from Juilliard.
ROGER exits. ROBBIE looks back down at the keyboard.
ROSE (Looking at ROBBIE.) Oh, Robbie. (Beat. SHE looks away.) I’m so tired. Tired of “Traviata” in Toledo for five weeks; and then two weeks home with the cats; and then a “Salome” in Santa Fe for the month … and then, the world premiere of some new composer’s opera in San Francisco, filled with awkward leaps and weak dramaturgy, because I learn music quickly, act well, and know the ropes. And hotel rooms. And lovers. And debts. And the web of likes and hates and memories and … one
39 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING more show closed. You get older; the venues get smaller; you miss more holidays with your family than you can remember. (SHE looks over at ROBBIE, who looks up.) I’m running out of steam, Robbie. I’ve forgotten the tune. I can’t do this, anymore.
There’s a beat as ROBBIE begins to get up in order to console HER, and SHE indicates that HE should sit.
Play me something nice, Robbie. Play me a “trunk song,” something you wrote that you love, but hid away in a drawer, the way you used to when we lived together in the Village and I’d come home after the millionth rejection, and … hear you playing….
NO. 17: “And Then I Let Him Go,” an adaptation of “Liza Jane,” Lomax, pp. 284-285.
ROSE WHEN I FIRST MET MY HUSBAND, HE MET ME AT THE DOOR; HIS SHOES AND STOCKINGS IN HIS HAND, AND HIS FEET ALL OVER THE FLOOR.
OH, I LOVED HIM TRULY, OH I LOVED HIM SO, OH I LOVED HIM GLADLY, AND THEN I LET HIM GO.
DON’T YOU WEEP, MY DARLING, DON’T YOU WEEP NOR CRY; I’LL BE BACK TO SEE YOU IN THE LONG OLD BY-AND-BY.
OH, I LOVED HIM TRULY, OH I LOVED HIM SO, OH I LOVED HIM GLADLY, AND THEN I LET HIM GO.
ROBBIE (Quietly.) You’ve got to go to him, Rosie.
ROSE I know. (Beat.) If he drinks—.
SHE puts up HER hands, drops them, and grabs HER purse. SHE exits, briskly. ROBBIE watches HER leave, then turns back to the piano, and begins to play.
40 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
NO. 18: “I Believe in Song”
ROBBIE WHEN THE HOUSE LIGHTS GO TO HALF, A COMPOSER CALLS ON ALL HIS CRAFT, AND INSPIRATION TO FILL THE AIR WITH MUSIC THAT WILL MAKE PEOPLE CARE. HE REALIZES AS WELL AS YOU THAT HIS JOB IS TO MAKE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL AND TRUE. FOR ME THERE’S NOTHING MORE DEAR THAN MUSIC THAT FALLS SWEETLY ON THE EAR.
A SIMPLE MELODY IN C, A GIFT FROM GOD ABOVE, AN ARCHING MELODY THAT’S WHAT I LOVE. IT MAY CONTAIN CLICHES, BUT I’LL STILL LOVE IT, ANYWAY.
NO BEATING HEART’S IMMUNE TO MUSIC’S SONG; NO EAR RESIST A TUNE, WHEN THE LINE IS STRONG; PERHAPS I AM A BIT NAÏVE, BUT I BELIEVE IN SONG.
SLEEPLESS NIGHTS SURRENDER GLADLY TO UNENDING MUSIC’S CHARMS; PEOPLE REALLY AREN’T SO DIFFERENT; SADLY PEOPLE STILL CAUSE HARM.
THE BALM THAT MUSIC BRINGS, FOR ME AND YOU, OUR VOICES JOINED TO SING A SONG THAT’S TRUE; I STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE, AND I BELIEVE IN SONG.
ROBBIE gets up and begins to don the suit that HE will wear in the final scene. HE addresses the AUDIENCE as HE changes.
It begins with words, you know. Well, sometimes the music. But words and music intertwined— well, then you’ve got a song, and that’s a start.
HE observes as the STAGE HAND silently removes props in preparation for the final scene.
41 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
There’s a script and a score, which tells us what to say, what to sing, and when to come and go.
HE picks up a ring binder from a pile of music and places it on the piano rack.
There is a stage director, who will have his way with this document. He will work with a costume designer to decide what I will wear; a prop master to decide what will sit on top of my piano; and a lighting designer who will bathe me in color.
ROBBIE has fully changed into a conservative suit and tie set off with a flamboyant multi-colored scarf redolent of the “rainbow flag.”
I’ll arrange and orchestrate the songs—or somebody else will. The script will get “doctored” or it won’t. Hundreds of singers will sing auditions. And only a handful will be cast.
HE adjusts the scarf self-consciously as HE approaches the lip of the stage.
Rehearsal pianists will rehearse the singers, coaches coach, sewers sew, the crew will build sets, the makeup artists will make actors up, the publicists publicize, the marketers market, the conductor conduct, the stage manager manage, the ticket sellers sell tickets.
The stage bare but for the easel, music stands, and piano, the STAGE HAND approaches ROBBIE and signals that S/HE is nearly finished.
And clever people in black outfits change the setting while we are talking so that, as though by magic, one scene evolves into the next—
The STAGE HAND turns the easel, far left, to reveal a placard on which is written “The Cherry Lane Studio Theatre Welcomes “I Hear America Singing.”
—And then: then we find ourselves (Clasping HIS hands and moving into “pitch mode.”) gathered together in the dark. We have become an audience. We will inspire change. We will sing songs; and we will tell stories about the crazy world outside those doors. And we, in telling them, will try to forgive one another, to understand one another, and to make sense of our lives.
42 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
SCENE 4: The LIGHTS shift to highlight the easel, a central performing space, and the piano. A studio black box like those used to audition commercial shows to potential investors in New York City is suggested. ROBBIE holds up HIS hand and calls out to an unseen house manager somewhere behind the audience.
ROBBIE Could we have some stands please?
The STAGE HAND sets three stands center stage and exits. ROBBIE moves to the piano and plays an extravagant roulade.
ROBBIE Oy! Abruptly, HE rises and closes the lid.
I thought that this instrument was scheduled for a tuning!
ROSE enters; dressed in a black sweater, dance tights, and flats. SHE carries a water bottle and a three ring binder, which SHE dumps on the piano.
ROSE Out of tune, right? (SHE laughs.) Just like ten years ago. This dump never changes.
ROBBIE seats HIMSELF at the piano and begins to page through HIS music. ROSE walks the stage and emits whale-like singer warm-up sounds.
ROBBIE You know, I never get used to that.
ROSE What?
ROBBIE (Imitating HER vocal warm-up sounds.) Mwaaaaaaaaaah-Moooooo!
ROSE You know, even though we’re treated like cattle—.
ROBBIE I know, you’re not.
43 I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
NO. 19: “I Believe in Song” (Reprise) ROSE (Beginning a capella) A SIMPLE MELODY IN C, A GIFT FROM GOD ABOVE, AN ARCHING MELODY THAT’S WHAT I LOVE.
ROBBIE begins to accompany HER.
IT MAY CONTAIN CLICHES, BUT I’LL STILL LOVE IT, ANYWAY.
ROBBIE (HE continues to play, under.) Thanks for doing this for me, darling Rosie. (HE stops playing. Beat.) You know, there’s a story about Leonard Bernstein down in Washington during the out of town tryouts of “West Side Story.” Seems that, during a rehearsal, Jerry Robbins cut some of Bernstein’s underscoring from the song “Somewhere,” yelling, “We’ll have none of that ‘Hollywood Shit’ here,” not knowing that Bernstein was sitting in the back of the empty theater.
ROSE Yeah. I know the story.
ROBBIE Do you know what Lenny did? He slipped out of the theater. A little later, Sondheim went looking for him and found him, sitting at a bar a few doors away with a row of scotches in front of him.
ROSE Yeah.
ROBBIE Sometimes it hurts to do the right thing.
ROSE I’ve already left him once.
ROBBIE (Sigh.) I was that young, once.
ROSE Yeah. Me, too.
ROBBIE So, are we short a leading man? Am I singing all the male roles today?
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ROSE I left him at McGlade’s.
ROBBIE Staring at a row of shot glasses?
ROSE No. Not a whole row. Just one.
ROBBIE Was his nose in it?
ROSE Not yet.
ROBBIE sighs, squints, and looks out into the audience, makes eye contact with SOMEONE in the front row, moves to HIM, and shakes HIS hand.
ROBBIE John! I’m so glad that you could make it. (HIS eyes shift to someone further back in the theater. HE waves.) Sally! Is Tobin here with you? Great!
ROSE (Aside.) Work it, sweet boy.
ROBBIE (Generally, to the AUDIENCE.) We’ll get under weigh in just a moment.
ROBBIE turns HIS back to the audience.
ROSE (Continued, quietly.) Maybe you should lose the scarf, Robbie.
ROBBIE Et tu, Rosie?
ROSE This is not the time for a political statement.
ROBBIE reluctantly uncoils the scarf and places it behind the piano.
ROBBIE Okay, okay. I’ll be good. (Beat.) Maybe you should call him.
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ROSE Not in this life. He’s a big boy. He has to make this decision himself. Besides, I’ve got decisions of my own to make.
ROBBIE How’s that?
ROSE Oh, Robbie. This show’s got to get legs. I’m tired. Look at me. I’m not a kid anymore. This swan is getting ready to sing.
ROBBIE No way.
ROSE Way.
ROBBIE What’ll you do?
ROSE I’m certified to teach, you know.
ROBBIE I didn’t know that.
ROSE You’re always conducting someone’s show, copying orchestra parts for someone, orchestrating some industrial show, or subbing in the pit for someone. You’re in constant motion. You’re always scrambling for cash, or cultivating investors. Doesn’t it get old?
ROBBIE Somebody’s got to sweep up after the elephants at the end of the parade.
NO. 20: “Rye Whisky” (Reprise.) ROGER (Off.) I’LL EAT WHEN I’M HINGRY, I’LL DRINK WHEN I’M DRY; IF THE HARD TIMES DON’T KILL ME, I’LL LIE DOWN AND DIE.
ROGER tumbles onstage, wearing all black, and carrying a ring binder.
I’LL DRINK MY OWN WHISKY,
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I’LL MAKE MY OWN WINE; SOME TEN THOUSAND BOTTLES I’VE KILLED IN MY TIME.
ROBBIE (Shaking HIS head, sitting down at the keyboard.) I don’t care about ten thousand. I’m more interested in whether you’ve had any.
ROGER (Placing HIS finger to HIS mouth.) My little secret.
ROBBIE (Hard.) Don’t be cute. I’m on the line here. So’s your ex-wife, hotshot.
ROGER Always the same. I’m nothing but hired help. You’re the genius; she’s the diva. (HE looks out into the audience, suddenly realizes that backers have already arrived. HE abruptly changes HIS tone, and waves to someone.) Ah! Hello, Peter! (HE swivels back to ROBBIE, and continues, in a stunned stage whisper.) The Mouse is here! How’d you get the Mouse to come?
ROGER turns slowly back to the AUDIENCE, puts HIS hand up to shield HIS eyes, and suddenly swivels back to ROBBIE.
The Rat’s people are here!
ROBBIE and ROSE (Smiling.) Way.
ROGER (Excited.) No way! Don’t think. You play. We’ll sing.
NO. 21: “You Don’t Fall Up, You Fall Down”
ROGER LISTEN, YOU DON’T FALL UP, YOU FALL DOWN.
ROSE THAT’S RIGHT. AND SOMETIMES SHOWS SHUT DOWN OUT OF TOWN.
ROGER and ROSE AMEN.
ROGER WE’VE GOT TO SHOW UP, GET UP, PUT UP, GROW UP,
ROSE AND ALL WITH A SMILE, NOT A FROWN.
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ROGER WE ALL KNOW WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN.
ROSE UH HUH. AND WE KNOW THAT WHAT GOES ‘ROUND COMES AROUND.
ROGER SO TRUE.
ROSE THE POINT IS EVERY TUNE CAN BEGIN ANEW; SO CAN YOU.
ROGER SOME FOLKS ARE SAD. SOME FOLKS ARE MAD. SOME FOLKS ARE GIDDY, SOME PRETTY, SOME GLAD.
ROSE (Descant, over, as ROGER repeats the previous stanza.) MUSIC CAN BE SAD. (OH, WOE IS ME!) MUSIC CAN BE MAD. (WOE BE TO HE!) MUSIC CAN BE WITTY, (CUE THE REPARTEE!) FLIRTY AND FLITTY. (PROCLAIM A HOLIDAY!)
ROSE LISTEN YOU TAKE ONE STRAIGHT TO THE CHIN.
ROGER YOU’RE CLOCKED. YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN.
ROSE THAT’S BAD.
ROGER YOU’VE GOT TO DRY UP, SUCK IT UP, FAIL AGAIN, SCREW IT UP,
ROSE ‘CAUSE JUST BEING HUMAN ISN’T A SIN.
ROGER SOME FOLKS ARE GENTLE. SOME FOLKS ARE MENTAL. SOME FOLKS ARE TEARFUL, SOME FEARFUL, SOME HEAVEN SENT.
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ROSE (Descant, over, as ROGER repeats the previous stanza.) MUSIC CAN BE GENTLE. (OH, HOW SWEET THE DULCET TONES!) MUSIC CAN BE MENTAL. (REPLETE WITH WAILS AND DYING MOANS!) MUSIC CAN BE TEARFUL, (CUE THE WATER WORKS!) EVEN CAN BE CHEERFUL, EVEN GAY! (Spoken: I KNEW IT!)
ROSE and ROGER THE WORLD WILL KEEP SPINNING, NO MATTER WHO’S WINNING. THE SINNERS KEEP SINNING, IT’S BEEN THAT WAY SINCE THE BEGINNING. SO LISTEN! LISTEN TO ME
(ROSE) and ROGER WE ALL KNOW WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN. (THE CYCLE LIFE PRESENTS TO THEE) AND WE KNOW THAT WHAT GOES ‘ROUND COMES AROUND. (IS VERY BASIC, CAN’T YOU SEE?) THE POINT IS EVERY TUNE CAN BEGIN ANEW; SO CAN YOU. (OUR ENDS ARE OUR BEGINNINGS, YOU AND ME.)
ROGER (To ROBBIE.) But I didn’t drink. I didn’t. I just looked at it. And then I called my sponsor. Believe in me, dammit. I need you to believe in me.
ROBBIE sweeps past ROGER and steps to the very front of the stage. ROGER and ROSE both face upstage, their backs to ROBBIE.
ROBBIE (In public “pitch” mode.) Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to “I Hear America Singing.” I see a lot of old friends out there. Here we are, gathered in the dark once again, in order to celebrate not just America’s great traditional folk songs, but also new beginnings.
NO. 22: “I Hear America Singing” (Reprise)
ROGER and ROSE (Under, with backs to the audience.) WE HEAR AMERICA SINGING THE VARIED CAROLS, WE HEAR. SO BLITHE AND STRONG, SO LOUD AND LONG,
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ROBBIE (Continuing, over, as the hum.) When you take an old song and make it new, you turn the clock back and turn it forward at the same time. That’s what I’ve done for the songs in this show. That’s what we do in life. We re- invent ourselves. We evolve. Revolution is happening around us, and inside us, all the time.
ROGER and ROSE (Turning to face the audience.) BEHOLD OUR SONGS, ARE GENUINE AND TRUE.
ROBBIE (Continuing, over.) Who knows what the future will bring? It is an extension, a reinvention of the past.
ALL THREE WE HEAR AMERICA SINGING BENEATH THE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE. EACH VOICE I HEAR RINGS PROUD AND CLEAR, PROCLAIMING FREEDOM’S CALL FOR ME AND YOU.
ROBBIE (To ROGER, over.) We forgive one another. We try to do better.
ROGER WE SING AMERICA’S ANTHEMS,
ROBBIE (To ROSE, over.) We move on.
ROSE OUR MUSICS, NEW SONGS AND OLD,
ROBBIE (To the AUDIENCE, over.) We are only who we are. But we can take old songs and make them new. Old dreams can be dreamt anew.
ROBBIE moves to the piano and begins to accompany ROGER and ROSE.
ROGER and ROSE WE SING TO BRING LIGHT TO THE DARKEST NIGHT, BEHOLD THE SIGHT OF PEOPLE THAT ARE FREE.
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ALL THREE WE HEAR AMERICA SINGING THE VARIED CAROLS, WE HEAR. SO BLITHE AND STRONG, SO LOUD AND LONG, BEHOLD OUR SONGS, ARE GENUINE AND TRUE.
SO BLITHE AND STRONG, SO LOUD AND LONG, BEHOLD OUR SONGS, ARE GENUINE AND TRUE.
Fast BLACKOUT with applause. LIGHTS up after a count of three for bows.
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