I love and adore Stephen Sondheim. His work, his example, his presence on this earth has so enriched my life in ways and to degrees incalculable. What to list? How to list? Do I go on about what it meant to me to see Angela Lansbury in Gypsy and Sweeney Todd? Or, how incredibly rewarding and life altering it was to play Sweeney in Sweeney Todd? Or, to play Marta in Company and sing Another Hundred People, decades before real-Broadway had nerve to go gay with the show? Or, how about all of the times and casts of Follies I have seen? Or, oh my, yes, all the versions of Merrily We Roll Along, including the one I directed? And that time I was asked to sing Not A Day Goes By for my dearest . . .
No, you see, there it is and there you have it, not a day goes by that I do not, somehow, somewhere, have Sondheim’s words, music, work, his genius, as part of my life, my history, my heart.
Thank you, Mr. Sondheim. I love you.
And your music . . . your words . . . your music . . . your words . . . your heart . . . your soul . . . your music . . . your words . . .