Duncan Sheik calls his work with Steven Sater "a completely noncollaborative collaboration." Steven Sater says of his work with Duncan Sheik, "I always give him the lyric first. Part of the magic is that 97 percent of the time he just sets the song."
Apparently it works, no matter how they work. That's what most critics concluded when they got a good look at—and listen to—the team's rock score for Spring Awakening. Subscription audiences and others attending the Atlantic Theater Company limited run Off-Broadway agreed so enthusiastically about the loose-as-a-goose musical adaptation of Frank Wedekind's 1891 play that it begins Broadway previews in November for a Dec. 10 opening at the Eugene O'Neill Theatre. For the most part, the same well-reviewed ensemble moves, too.
Poke around more in individual telephone conversations with Sater and Sheik, and the suddenly successful partnership gets curiouser and curiouser. We're not just talking evocative and provocative song titles—like "The Bitch of Living" and "Totally Fucked"—which are a far cry from Wedekind despite the scandalous piece of writing his play was considered when it bowed.
For one thing, Sheik, who's got a perfectly presentable recording career (a Grammy, for one big plus), had done virtually no writing with anyone other than himself since his school days at Andover and Brown. He considered "songwriting as a kind of solitary pursuit." For a second thing, Sater's education in the classics at Princeton, Oxford, and Columbia prepared him to write plays and screenplays (and read in several languages) but not to write lyrics. He says, "I never thought about being a lyricist. I never listened to a song and said, 'Gee, I wish I'd written that.' " Sater was so unprepared, he says, "I didn't know the difference between a verse and a chorus." But he goes on to state, "I quickly learned, and I brought to the table the needs of a music-theatre song."
How did the two oft-times recluses cross paths? You might be tempted to say they met cute—because they met chanting. The introductory encounter, which Sater characterizes as "the most remarkable meeting of my lifetime," was at a Buddhist gathering spot. "He has this gorgeous tone," Sater says of Sheik. The two practicing Buddhists fell to extended post-chanting chatting about their careers. Somewhere in the five-to-six-hour gabfest, Sater mentioned he needed a song for a radical rewrite he was doing of William Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Next thing he knew, he'd emailed Sheik a lyric and was informed—practically in return email—that a tune was ready. Sheik, you see, is equipped to record demos in his downtown Manhattan loft, and that's what he did then and does whenever Sater fires off a newly minted lyric. The first one showed up in what was called Umbrage when the play was unveiled at Manhattan's Here Arts Center.
"Steve is very prolific," Sheik says, "and he sent me lots of lyrics. That set of songs became Phantom Moon." Sheik is referring to his acclaimed Nonesuch recording. But Sater had more on his mind, and in 1999 suggested that Sheik read Spring Awakening. His idea: turn it into a musical. Sheik recalls thinking, "At first blush, I don't know about this." He was wondering if he'd be "biting off more than I could chew." He wasn't certain what kind of music he'd write for a late-19th-century play about adolescent sexual awakening, parental oppression, suicide, and forced abortion. Would it be music meant to evoke the Bavaria of 100 years ago? Should it be updated to the 1960s with appropriate music? Those kinds of questions nagged at him.
A larger concern preoccupied Sheik. Although he performed in musicals at Andover and Brown, he'd left them behind. He'd certainly turned his back on the brand of musical categorized as musical comedy. Sheik says, "Lighthearted entertainment—that's not where I live." He likes "music that has some gravitas in it, for lack of a better word." Sater understood Sheik's resistance and overcame it when he informed his new writing partner that "the songs would function as internal monologues."
"Eureka!," as reads-Greek Sater might say (Sater initially "knew the play in the original German"). From then on, Sheik was convinced, and Sater could buckle down to writing the lyrics and libretto for a drama he cherishes because "it's full of this anguished yearning of all these young people." And, incidentally, Sater also made Sheik see that it would be possible to produce an album of the Spring Awakening score that could stand alone—not need the story line to make sense to listeners. The CD is in the making now, with Sheik using the show's band and arrangements but with augmentation. (The disc should be on sale by the Broadway opening.)
And so Spring Awakening got under way in 1999. The road to the Atlantic wasn't smooth, however—which isn't necessarily a surprising comment to make about any musical. (You can call it a musical to Sheik, but please don't slip and call it a musical comedy.) The Sater-Sheik collaboration was intriguing to many theatre folks, chief among them director Michael Mayer. Sater called Mayer, with whom he'd once worked, shortly after launching the enterprise. He wondered if Mayer would be interested in joining the team on the project. He got the following response: "I can't believe you're saying this. The last few years I've thought, 'Why doesn't someone offer me Spring Awakening?' "
Sater describes Mayer as a very driven director, and it's obvious that Sater and Sheik also have plenty of drive. So they began a round of workshops for which, Sheik estimates, at least 40 songs were written. The developing piece made stops at La Jolla Playhouse, the Sundance Film Festival, the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center, Roundabout Theatre Company (where a full production was scheduled pre-Sept. 11 and canceled post-Sept. 11), Lincoln Center Theater, Baruch College, and finally the Atlantic Theater Company. The Roundabout loss was "devastating," Sater remembers. "We were virtually dead in the water."
Shopping the property thereafter was no fun. "No one could understand the show," Sater says. "Even people who'd seen a workshop couldn't remember what made it work." Lincoln Center's Jon Nakagawa "was what saved us," Sater remembers. Heading the American Songbook series, Nakagawa and colleague Charles Cermele slotted Sheik and the score in 2004. Also, Tom Hulce and Ira Pittelman, who eventually produced the show with the Atlantic, rallied 'round.
The rest is recent history, although the show's history is still being written—as is the show, which involves a handful of bright but conflicted maturing teens discovering their sexual selves with no help from a repressive society. As depicted, these searching, reaching, experimenting youngsters inhabit a 19th-century German backwater—until they start those internal-monologue tunes and step up to microphones or pull microphones from somewhere inside their period costumes. Then they rock out as if they're the Rolling Stones playing Madison Square Garden. Sheik thinks of it as indie rock—2006 style. (The mike-at-the-ready ploy is evidently director Mayer's contribution.)
"We're doing some work on the show because we're being asked," Sater says of the impending transfer. "We're strengthening elements of the dramatic arc, addressing various issues. It's not a major, wholesale rewrite." Sheik and Sater returned to emailing for part of this phase in order to write new songs, but Sater wouldn't give titles over the phone. He's waiting until he knows whether the additions stick. By the way, the songwriting team does do shaping and tweaking in tandem "in the rehearsal room." Sheik says that's where "the real work begins." He also claims, "I never realized how much work it was—lots and lots and lots of songs." He begins a memory-lane sentence that goes, "If I knew then what I know now...." He lets the remark trail off, but the meaning is clear.
Nonetheless, knowing now what he didn't know then hasn't stopped either Sheik or Sater. They've got a new show, The Nightingale, based on the Hans Christian Andersen story, on the workshop circuit, and Sater has something he's calling Nero: Another Golden Rome well underway. Eight songs are already completed—save the tweaking he and Sheik are wont to do.
Now that Spring Awakening has entered the annals of critically approved musicals and has even triggered movie interest, both men couldn't be happier about the state of affairs. Sater, who now regards himself as a lyricist, says, "The most gratifying experience in my life has been creating these songs and this story." Sheik admits, "I had gotten myself in a little bit of trouble in some ways." He's talking about recently publicized remarks he made about the kind of musicals he doesn't like. "I was being bratty," he says, but now, after having written a show with "teeth in it," he's delighted. He dubs it "the single most creative undertaking of my life." He's so pleased that he supposes he sat in the Atlantic audience maybe 50 times enjoying others delivering his material. "Given the state of the record business," he says, "I'm very, very happy to be in the world of theatre."