binau said: "Up until now I thought wow look at how great ALW is at giving the reigns over to new directors who can showcase his work, but it's clear from this statement that ALW is actually just ALW.."
Of course he is. He's finally bottled how to look cool and "reclaim his legacy" through iconoclastic productions while still being "just ALW." Pull up a chair, I've got a story to tell of how he figured it out. (And it's a long one that will look tangential for most of the first part. Follow me, I'm goin' some place.)
It all began over 20 years ago. Renowned musical arranger Louis St. Louis [Grease, Smokey Joe's Café] was doing a "best of Broadway" type showcase gig in the early Aughts when he encountered "a situation": two female soloists wouldn't budge on their song choice, "I Don't Know How To Love Him." So he decided to make it a duet; that way, they could each riff to the rafters and not feel cheated of their "moment." For added spice, he arranged it gospel style. It brought down the house, and he began to wonder if this approach could be successfully applied to re-imagining the rest of the show, bringing Jesus Christ Superstar and its score into the world of contemporary gospel, perhaps incorporating a choir as a Greek chorus, not unlike The Gospel at Colonus.
Welcoming the possible clash from the unusual pairing of material and style, he approached ALW about the notion through a mutual contact, and the rep who passed on the "green light" from above reportedly said, "He loved your idea. He turned and asked why all the assholes around him hadn't come up with an idea this good for the score in 40 years." Gratified, St. Lulu (as he was known to his friends) then spent years trying to find backing and "place" the show. Finally, the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta gave him the resources he wanted and pulled the trigger on what had become Jesus Christ Superstar GOSPEL.
No expense was spared: a full Broadway-caliber cast, a 27-member choir besides that which frequently filled the aisles, four "praise" dancers going at all times, a very "megachurch"-oriented staging with all-white costumes (except for Herod's striking dark purple outfit), and a set dripping with gold. The arrangements were different, fresh, and unique, radically reinventing the score. The opening was a gala event, and critics were very effusive, saying that this new version had revitalized a tired relic. Sales were brisk, and the response attracted interest from New York producers along with multiple offers to record a CD or tour the production.
His spidey sense was tingling, and perhaps his back was up from the rave reviews this production got compared to the tepid reception of his own revivals. ALW had to see this new JCS for himself... just like Herod wanted to know what was going on in Bethlehem...
He was caught by surprise. Who wouldn't be? Just listen to the demo of "Heaven On Their Minds" from that production. It sure ain't your mama's JCS. St. Lulu had thought ALW would understand that the score had to be reinvented and had gone on his merry way, taking tremendous liberties, dragging it down the contemporary gospel/R&B path -- transposing keys in some places, playing with chords/melody/time signatures, etc.
In reality, ALW was blindsided and sprung into action, summoning a music librarian from RUG, going over the score with a fine-toothed comb, and taking notes. He then laid down the hammer and strong-armed the arrangements into something closer to the original, with the result that about half the final product was transparently "traditional JCS with a gospel choir tacked on." The enforced changes weren't enough to blunt the show's overall impact, but enough for ALW to wash his hands of its demolition. He twisted the knife further by, in essence, issuing an order that the Gospel arrangements could never be performed again, in whole or in part.
This demonstrated something to him. He knew what he wanted: groundbreaking revivals that blew the dust off his shows and made them innovative again. He also knew what he didn't want: too much creative freedom that painted a picture of a fusty antiquarian's bones being picked for any remaining sinew.
It took some time and fine-tuning (it started as far back as the last Broadway revival of JCS, in fact, where he publicly declared in the NY Times that "I've now decided what I might do is to have nothing to do with my shows for the foreseeable future [...] I'll just smile and turn up at opening nights" -- following which he learned that he had to, y'know, actually do that), but I've gotta hand it to him, he's worked out the formula. He picked a producing partner, Michael Harrison, a younger producer in touch with what attracts current crowds, to lead the way on the revival front, pairing the material with directors weaned on the Lloyd Webber catalogue who can use their grubby paws to smear it with the thin veneer of sophistication we now call "art." This allows him to appear broad-minded while, in reality, remaining tight-fisted where it matters: namely, strictly regimenting the score's sound, as Variety has now made public, so he is never again caught with his trousers down.
Michael handles the revivals, while on new stuff like, say, The Illusionist, good ole Lord Andy can be his usual cantankerous, controlling self. He gets to build this hyped image of himself re-embracing his past, making strides into the future, and being 'cool' again while actually being the same old prat.
Sometimes playing the long game pays off, kids.
Formerly gvendo2005
Broadway Legend
joined: 5/1/05
Blocked: After Eight, suestorm, david_fick, emlodik, lovebwy, Dave28282, joevitus, BorisTomashevsky, Seb28
Updated On: 8/16/25 at 09:53 PM