Sondheim Sez: Lie to Me, Damnit!

I think it’s worth noting that the person quoted in the OP specifically rejects the idea that they said something nice, just not that they loved it.

“Sondheim asked them what they thought of the show: they both were silent. Brown described the dinner after that moment as ‘many extremely awkward silences punctuated by bursts of frantic, desperate conversation about anything other than the slaughtered elephant in the room.’”

I still think that while Sondheim is being slightly dramatic, the only people who have erred here are the people who couldn’t manage to come up with so much as a melody that they found charming.

I had missed that they hadn’t said anything when asked, not even weak praise by comparing it to some of his better work.

I can feel for Mr. Brown in this case, because I would have been presented with the same problem he was. I don’t like Sweeny Todd, and really can’t find much that I liked in it. I might find something I liked if I put it through repeated listens, but they didn’t get that opportunity that night. If I was there, I would have answered something along the lines of: “I don’t think it was as good as West Side Story (which I love), but I think it will do really well.” It’s not “I hated Sweeny Todd!”, which would be the whole truth, but it wouldn’t be a lie, either. However, if the reported story is accurate, nothing besides fawning praise is acceptable to Sondheim in that situation.

I’m an artist, and understand Sondheim’s position. Opening Night is a celebration of all the work I’ve put into my art. It gets really depressing if all that work didn’t come across as something wonderful to every single person.

But on the other hand, I can totally see through anyone’s faint praise; it just doesn’t sound genuine. In fact, I’d rather hear statements of honesty than anything fake. Sondheim has the luxury of having so many fans who truly love his work (myself included), that anyone he actually invites to an opening is probably someone who will most likely have positive reactions, no matter what. I also have fans who like my art, but I could never take them for granted, and assume their approval.

I think a lot of it has to do with the complexity of his work. There are so many people involved, and any lack of a stellar performance can bring everything down. In my case, I’m the only person involved, and I just don’t show anything that’s not as good as it can be.

Because in this situation the host says, “Listen, I really want to know what your honest feelings are: how was the dinner?”

Thanks for that. After posting I regretted having been cranky, because I know as well as anyone that we sometimes post in forums on the basis of ‘skim, then decide what you believe the person said, then reply to that’…and that process can produce errors.*

Anyway, we’re all at the disadvantage of not knowing how accurate Brown’s account really is. I wonder if Sondheim relayed the “tell me you loved it” message to anyone else?..that would be interesting to know. (I did a search of “you loved it” and “Sondheim,” but can’t see anything except references to the Jason Robert Brown anecdote.)

Parenthetically: one of the first-page hits from that search includes an interpretation of the story that leaves out some of the elements we’ve been discussing as being crucial to evaluating the rights and wrongs of the situation. Those are, one, that silence was the response to Sondheim’s request for feedback, and two, that Sondheim’s request for feedback was prompt and forthright (“after twenty minutes, Sondheim asked them what they thought of the show.”) Here’s that account:

http://www.salon.com/2011/03/15/just_say_i_loved_it/

…then follows the same wording as given in the OP quotation.

Interestingly, the writer who re-worked the anecdote to exclude the quick-and-direct query from Sondheim and the resulting silence from JRB and his companion, comes down on the ‘it’s best to say I Loved It, no matter how you really feel’ side of the issue.

*Such as a perceived imperative on the part of some to tell me that Courtesy is Good, even though I’d never argued against ‘saying something nice’.

I agree with you that the guests didn’t behave well (assuming the situation truly was as described). In that context, silence was rude. They should have found something that they genuinely liked and mentioned it.

I don’t agree that the guests were the only people who erred–again, if the situation was reported accurately. If Sondheim really did say “If I beg you, plead with you to tell me what you really thought, what you actually, honestly, totally believed, then you must tell me "I loved it”…if he really said that, then he was being obnoxious.

Stephen Sondheim is (predictably) entirely correct.

I do a lot of theater, and my wife is a concert musician as are several members of her immediate family; nearly all of my friends are performers of one kind of or another. Even my kid sings, dances, and plays piano. So I see a lot of performances (and am involved in quite a few myself).

In the immediate aftermath of a performance, the only thing you will ever hear me say to a friend (or family member) who has performed is some variation on: “That was wonderful; you were terrific; you should be very proud of yourself.” I will do this sincerely, with a smile, without prompting, and I will do it whether I thought the performance was the greatest thing I ever saw or whether I’m going to go home and stare directly at the sun for four hours to wash the horror of performance out of my eyes.

Why would I do otherwise? This person is my friend (my wife, my daughter). Their happiness is way more important to me than some arbitrary commitment to “honesty” (which, in this context, really is just a desperate, narcissistic need to believe that one’s opinion matters). I am proud of them, and they do deserve to be proud of themselves. They put in hours of work; they exercised considerable talent. If my daughter missed a phrase in her recital, if the musical for which my friend is playing piano had a plot no one could understand, if my wife yakked the high note in her solo: what of it? Can they fix it now, with my oh-so-valuable input? Or can I just let them enjoy the high of the performance - because again, I care about them more than my own need to Tell the Truth?

If you are a person’s friend and they have just completed something that they are proud of and that took them a great deal of time and effort to accomplish, just be supportive, for god’s sake. Just smile and hug them or shake their hand. Analysis is useless and unwelcome at that point. And yes, even if they ask you to be honest, in those few hours right after the thing is done, just be noncommittal and positive and cheerful. You lose NOTHING by doing this. Nothing.

And the time will come, a day or a week later, when you’ll sit down to dinner, out of that immediate heightened post-performance mood, and they’ll ask again. And then you have the conversation, you offer your feedback, they accept it, they learn from it, etcetera etcetera.

All Sondheim is saying is that you don’t have to crap on somebody’s parade in the name of “honesty.” Just hold off until the parade is over, for Pete’s sake.

No, I get you, too. The real pivot point is whether Sondheim just said “hey, what did you think?” vs. “I really want to know.” If the latter, your comments fit.

scabpicker - I hear you overall. It is better to say what you think. I also think that if I find myself talking to someone who is deeply respected in their field, I would be very, very diplomatic.

I think you know the #1 guitarist for me is Jeff Beck - but, as I have said here, a lot of his songs are simply bad - amazing playing tied to an experiment that didn’t work. If he asked me what I thought, I would say “I loved your playing” not “I hated the song.”

Actually, no. In art/showbiz circles it’s near axiomatic that if you start picking a show to pieces, to the people involved, on opening night, you are being a dick.

It’s also near axiomatic that creators and performers are in a semipermanent state of trying to make their work better, and unlike in some other environments of human interaction, it’s not looked upon badly there. These are people who are very used to taking criticism, to a level that would be gobsmacking to people in most jobs, and who are incredibly serious about making their work as good as is humanly possible. Actors will spend the evening after a show sitting in the pub with their mates, with everyone picking the show to pieces and trying to work out why that mood change in Scene 5 really isn’t working and could it be because the pacing leading up to it is too slow or maybe Joe needs to keep his focus on Liz for longer so that Laurie’s entrance takes him by surprise or maybe Dave’s monologue needs to pack more punch and OK we’ll come in a couple of hours early tomorrow and try a bunch of stuff till we make it work.

Except on opening night. When they’ve just spent weeks or months or years busting their asses trying to make this show perfect, and all they want to do is slowly come down off the adrenaline high and feel like all that work paid off.

Which is why any actor with any sense never, ever asks anyone ‘No, seriously, give me your honest feedback, I really want to know every detail of what you think, please please please’ on opening night. Anyone who volunteers negative feedback is, like I said, being a total dick…but if you basically demand it, you’re being ridiculous. (Although it sounds to me like Sondheim was just being hyperbolic about that anyway.)