A Theatre Fairy Tale: Tricks of the Trade

Once upon a time, when I was a sophomore in college, I composed the music for a musical version of The Alchemist entitled Tricks of the Trade. The book and lyrics were written by senior theatre major Keith Pollick, and Keith also directed and choregraphed the show.

This was a twelve-actor show – twelve characters, twelve actors and there was no doubling. The Alchemist, written by Shakespeare’s contemporary Ben Jonson, is about three swindlers (Doll, Face and Subtle) who con the local townspeople by claiming that Subtle is an alchemist. The foolish townies pay handsomely to have their dreams come true. And our heroes abscond with their cash. The town characters have names out of a medieval mortality play: Patience, Tribulation, Dapper, Drugger, Persistence and so on.

I had some song writing experience, but this was my first musical and so I pulled out all the stops: solos, duets, trios, counterpoints, fugues, 12-part harmonies. Everything I could think of.

As the composer, I was also musical director. We had a five-piece band for the show and just about all of the actors were excellent singers.

This was at Washington University in St. Louis. And the drama department allowed anyone to audition for a play, even if they were not drama majors. Or weren’t even attending the university. I remember a particularly good British scientist who played Sir Anthony Absolute in The Rivals and another non-theatre major who played Pastor Manders in Ghosts.

Of the three main roles, (Doll, Face and Subtle) Doll and Subtle were both Freshmen. But we had a casting coup when an alumnus auditioned and was cast in the role of Face. I will call him Tom. (Because that was his name.)

Tom was 30ish perhaps. It’s hard now to tell with the passage of time. I had seen Tom play Gloucester in King Lear the previous year and he was amazing. Especially considering it’s a role for an old man. Morris Carnovsky, the great actor and original Group Theatre member, was brought in as a guest artist to play Lear. Carnovsky was 80 at the time and had graduated from Wash U. in 1920! Tom acted with Carnovsky in Lear and more than held his own.

Tom played Gloucester in Carnovsky’s Lear and now he was doing our musical!

In rehearsal we discovered that Tom had a great singing voice and was a natural comedian. How long did we rehearse this show? Maybe a couple of months. It was a “new” musical so there was a lot to work out. A lot of changes, rewrites, you know the drill.

Director, book writer and lyricist Keith Pollick and I rehearse Lizanne Wilson (Doll) in what was undoubtedly a posed publicity shot for the university newspaper (February, 1978).

So, we were to open on a Thursday in February. And it’s now production week and, as you can see, I am thereby switching to the present tense.

So, it’s production week and these three things happen, pretty much simultaneously:

The tenor who plays the role of Tribulation gets some kind of throat infection and “loses” his voice. His doctor advises him not to sing for two weeks.

The actor who plays Kastril, a romantic dancing role, breaks his arm.

And Tom, who plays Face, decides that he can’t do the role and leaves the show.

What!? He can’t leave. He was Gloucester in Carnovsky’s King Lear!

With only 12 actors in the show, that’s a quarter of the cast out. And this is a show where everyone plays a role. There is no “chorus” from which to pull people and bump them up. We started working on this show the previous summer and have been putting together since. Nine months of work. We open in three days. And it only took a couple of days for it to come apart. I have the sick feeling that you can only have when the thing you’ve worked so hard on is not going to happen. Was I shaking? Nauseous? Faint? Probably.

So it’s late Monday night, and the director calls a meeting of the cast and crew. Keith tells us that Tom is gone. Now if this has to happen, you would hope that it would happen a month earlier. Not on the Monday before the Thursday opening. How could we possibly reverse the curse that has somehow been placed on the show?

Keith goes on, outlining his plan:

The tenor who can’t sing, won’t. He has a big gospel-style number to sing. And a ton of lines, like everyone else. He isn’t in danger of infecting the cast. So, he can come to rehearsal. He just won’t be called upon to produce any sound. And then what? Sign the songs? We don’t know.

The actor who broke his arm is now in a cast. He can sing. He can act. He just can’t dance. The director decides that the injured actor should swap roles with another actor who plays the stupid guy. So the uninjured funny actor (Joel) is now playing the romantic part; and the broken-armed romantic actor (Scott) is now playing the funny part - which the directer intends to costume to be a one-armed man. Three days to go. So, Keith sends them off to learn their new parts and all the music, which is new for both of them: solos, duets, trios, counterpoints, fugues, 12-part harmonies.

Why did I have to pull out all the stops!?

But we’re still one actor short: Face. One of the three leads. There’s no way to bring anyone in to learn that role. It’s too big. So Keith tells me that I am going to do it. I am the same voice part and I know all the music. Because I had written it.

But Tom played Gloucester in King Lear!

Keith doesn’t care. We all know there is no better solution. The only thing left is for me to learn nearly three hours of lines and blocking in 72 hours.

I take the next three days off from school. I have non-theatre friends who tag team to run my lines, so there is always someone helping me. Basically, every hour or so, a new friend would come into my dorm room to relieve the previous one. And I practice for fourteen hours a day for three days.

The cast is willing to do anything to make this show happen. They also take time off from classes to work with us. We rehearse well into the night, Tuesday and Wednesday, which is our final dress. The Tenor is now whispering. The two swapped actors are giving each other notes. And the other actors compensate and cover when I get my blocking or lines wrong.

That week, I learned that you do anything to make it work.

It is now opening night. The show is sold out. The audience of friends and teachers and strangers are packed in the theatre waiting for the overture. We meet backstage and Keith the director gives one of the greatest “the show must go on” speeches that I’ve ever heard. The bond between us twelve actors is palpable and electric. I have never been in a cast where everyone wanted the show to succeed as fervently as the company of Tricks of the Trade. There is enough adrenaline in the room to power the entire building.

The show starts and every actor is militantly focused. The Tenor sings – miraculously and beautifully. The two guys who swapped roles are a huge hit, the audience thinking how perfectly cast they are. And I manage not to forget anything.

Joel Caplan (Kastril), Paula Boyell (Dame Pliant) and the author of this blog (Face). Costume design by Elizabeth Eisloeffel. Tapestry painting by Irene Kaufman.

The curtain call gets a standing ovation.

That opening night was one of the most memorable in my theatre career. The show had flown apart four days earlier and the company reached out and seized it and pulled it back together, stronger than it had been before. That was the first time that I fully understood a word that I had heard thrown around haphazardly in rehearsal rooms for years.

Oh, THIS is what ensemble feels like.

Tricks of the Trade killed at each of its sold-out performances - a storybook ending to what could have been a tragedy.

The cast and crew of Tricks of the Trade on the set — The cast and crew of *Tricks of the Trade* on the set

Postscript:

We cut a vinyl album of the show, by the way. We produced a hundred of them and it cost $600 so we sold them for $6 apiece. I once googled it a few years ago and found that a used record seller was selling the “Original Cast Tricks of the Trade album” for $100. I googled it yesterday and couldn’t find it again. I hope that means that someone bought it. Which, honestly, would be really hard to believe. But if they did, they now own a piece one of theatre’s great fairy tales.

I want to deeply thank everyone who was part of that little miracle at the Washington University Drama Department, and who made that show so unforgettable:

(names at the time of production)

Keith Pollick (Director and choreographer, book and lyrics), Lizanne Wilson (Doll), Paul Klein (Subtle), Peter Steinberg (Mammon), Paula Boyell (Dame Pliant), Ellen Mittenthal (Patience), Greg Powers (Tribulation), Noah Edelson (Dapper), Joel Caplan (Kastril), Scott Stern (Drugger), Becky Verble (Surley) and Pam Rubinfield (Lovewit).

Brad Pohlman (piano) Tom Walta (electric piano) Mark Tate (percussion) Steve Leon (percussion), and Mimi Braverman (flute).

Jolene Rosequist (producer/make-up and hair), Elizabeth Eisloeffel (costumes), Irene Kaufman (tapestry and poster design) Carol Sussman (lighting/stage manager), Betsy Wadle (props), and Douglas Redford (set construction).