Peter Rothstein shares how Asolo Rep’s actor-musician production of Fiddler on the Roof brings new intimacy and energy to the beloved musical.
In the musical theatre world, we talk about actors who are a “triple-threat”—those crazy talented folks that can act, sing and dance. For the past few weeks, I have been working with a room full of “quadruple-threats” – artists who can act, sing, dance and play an instrument. In fact, many in the cast of Fiddler on the Roof play two or three different instruments.
For a number of years, I have been dreaming about creating an actor/musician production of Fiddler on the Roof. This truly great American Musical doesn’t need reimagining; it is quite perfect as it is. That said, I believe the theatre should be in a constant state of reinvention, because it is a live art form that can only happen when actors and audiences are in the room together at the same moment in history. The creators of Fiddler on the Roof were men of the theatre; they sat in the room with a live audience night after night, listening to them laugh, cry, and applaud – or not.
The show opened in Detroit in August of 1964 to less than favorable reviews. The show’s writers — Joseph Stein, Sheldon Harnick and Jerry bock along with director/choreographer Jerome Robins made major changes, first in Detroit, and then throughout another run in Washington, DC. Night after night they listened to the audience, and the next day implemented changes: writing new jokes, new songs, new dances… The audience was the penultimate collaborator before the show’s heroic opening on Broadway in the fall of 1964. Crafting the show was like walking a tightrope, getting just the right balance of comedy and tragedy, of simplicity and showmanship.
At the Asolo you will witness true showmanship with 25 actor-singer-dancer-musicians playing more than two dozen different instruments: violin, viola, cello, clarinet, oboe, english horn, euphonium, trumpet, trombone, guitar, mandolin, accordion, and various percussion instruments. The virtuosity is extraordinary, but there is also a simple authenticity to seeing the characters accompany their own story. The people of Anatevka are entirely self-sufficient. They grow their own food, they sew their own clothes, they build their own homes, and they make their own music. While producing this musical without the typical orchestra in a pit below the stage is highly unusual, I believe it is actually more authentic to life in the Jewish shtetl of the early 20th century.
The first character to appear in the story is a musician – “a Fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a simple tune without breaking his neck.” And the last character we see is the Fiddler. As the people of Anatevka depart their village, having been forced from their homes, they take with them a few small belongings. But they also take something much larger – their tenacity, their spirit, their beliefs, and their music. That cannot be taken from them. And in that spirit we make music today.