Workshopping a Song - Part One

Workshopping A Song - Part One

Eric and I had had decided to write a musical based on the story of the Donner Party. We knew we wanted to treat the historical subject with respect, in contrast to some previous adaptations of the event which ventured into the realm of parody and gruesome gory humor. We knew that we had to decide how to handle the subject of cannibalism before we got too far along on the project, because that one issue was what people would be curious about. "How can you write a musical about cannibals?!"  

So, first of all, these people weren't cannibals any more than you and I are. But they did have a choice to make, and many/most of them chose to consume the flesh of their fallen companions, in order to survive. We believed with all our hearts they made the right choice, but we knew that the way we handled this topic would make or break the show, so the very first thing we wrote – before any of the book scenes, before any other song – was a song that addressed the cannibalism subject. We wrote the song, and brought it in to the Workshop to see how it went over. The Workshop – the BMI-Lehman Engel Musical Theater Workshop, of which Eric and I are alumni; a group of musical theater songwriters, led by a seasoned Broadway veteran songwriter, trying out new material for each other and honing their craft together. Honestly – the Workshop could be the subject of several more blog posts, it was such a valuable experience for us.

It was nerve-wracking, though, to present a song to the Workshop. It was a safe and supportive environment, but still it was like being an actor getting up on stage to audition. You never knew if your colleagues would like your song, and even when they did you knew their admiration would come with a long list of “nit-picks,” very specific comments meant to help you in the re-writing process. We had had a good amount of successes in our song presentations, and some not-so-successful. Over the years we had learned that the nit-picky comments from our talented colleagues always led us to write a better version of our song.

It was our turn. Eric took his place at the piano – he would play and sing the song, even though it was a female character, the point was to just hear the melody and the words. I stood in front of the workshop, and gave a brief set-up of the show and the song itself. “We’re writing a musical based on the story of the Donner Party,” I began. Some giggles from the class. I explained the set-up for the song. The pioneers have reached the point of desperation: they are starving, with no food available, and no sign of anyone coming to rescue them any time soon. But there are the bodies of their fallen companions, buried in the snow, and the group has begun to consider this possibility. Many believe that to consume human flesh will be a sin, no matter the circumstance. Their very souls ache at their dilemma.

One of our colleagues, Jeff, spoke up, “Seriously? Wait – you’re not writing a parody – you’re writing about the Donner Party, seriously?!” Eric and I nodded. This wasn’t going well. It seemed no one in the room accepted the premise of our show. I continued, with a brief set-up of the song.

Tamsen Donner has been nursing her husband's illness, and she sees him fading away towards death. Her little daughter cuddles at her feet, numb with starvation. Tamsen kisses her husband on his cold lips, and sings.

And Eric sang “Full Of Life.” At the end of the song there was that magical moment of stunned silence. Then enthusiastic applause from our colleagues. Then, Maury Yeston’s voice as he turned and looked at the class: “You see?” as if to say, “They’ve handled this subject with respect and dignity instead of parody, and it works.”  (A side note to say that at the time, Maury was writing his score for Titanic, so he well knew that a tragic moment in history could work as the subject for a musical.). It felt good for us to have that validation from him – and from our colleagues – that we had chosen the right subject, that the show could work. All of this rushed over us in a wave of relief as we heard that initial applause and Maury’s reaction.

Then, Maury opened it up for comments from the class. Several hands shot up. Yes, we got a few “nit-picks” of things to work on. There was a word in the first line that should be changed. And a word in the first line of the B section, or Bridge, of the song that should be looked at. Skip Kennon commented that the bridge, musically, seemed predictable and safe – when it was a very unsafe, dramatic situation for the character; Skip felt the music should go to a different tonal place in order to set up the return to the melody in the final A section. And Maury had an idea for a revised ending of the song.

full of life first draft formatting test.jpg

That was it. In addition to one line I wanted to change, our peers at the workshop suggested a change of two words, a change to the music for one section, and offered a general idea to give deeper meaning to the ending. Those specific notes were invaluable to us as we worked on a re-write of the song, because the comments came from songwriters who know the craft. Songwriters who, while they would never choose to write the material we write, nevertheless respect our vision, and honor it by nudging us to do even better work, to better fulfill our vision.

A week or two later, Eric and I presented a re-write of the song. But that's for the next post, Workshopping A Song - Part Two!