Just Shows To Go You

From the “Good Excuse To Stay In Town Over The Holiday Weekend” Department comes a 3-day marathon of movie musicals at Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade Theatre. The mix is eclectic - M-G-M studio heyday gems like Meet Me In St. Louis and Singin’ In The Rain and rock movies like Prince’s Purple Rain and The Who’s Tommy with some Busby Berkeley, Fred and Ginger, and Rodgers and Hammerstein along the way. You gotta love a festival that has the chutzpah to schedule a sing along screening of Grease at 12:45 on a Friday afternoon and the perversity to follow that womanizing Pal Joey with The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I have no idea about the differences between a “studio print”, an “archive print”, or a “new print” but the “new remastered print” of The King and I sounds like it should be big-screen eye candy. It’s very cool that Milos Forman’s Hair is in the line-up: made too late to capture the hippie era and too soon to work as nostalgia, it’s due for another look now that the stage revival is one mad hot ticket.

Here are three I’m going to do my best to see this weekend:

OLIVER!
I haven’t seen it in about ten years, but the Best Picture-winning Oliver! is my all-time favorite movie musical.(’Cause Robert Altman’s Nashville doesn’t really count as a musical, does it?) I still vividly remember having to wait for weeks to see it when it was first released, back in that dinosaur era when the theatres showing whatever won the Oscar would be jammed with desperate mobs for months. Finally, at 11 am one morning in 1969, I saw Oliver! and my little mind was blown. I’d never seen a musical drama before, nor any movie as visually beautiful. (At the time, the sets for Oliver! were the largest ever constructed indoors.) And, having not yet read Oliver Twist, I was more than a little shook up by the Dickensian worldview. As with anything that captivates in childhood, I feared that I’d snicker at the movie as an adult, but it has never failed to totally engross and to fill me with admiration for its meticulousness and integrity. (Director Carol Reed’s impressive attentiveness to detail disappears whenever Ron Moody mimes playing the flute - I cringe every time). The movie is also, I’ve come to realize, one of the rare movie musicals that improves on the stage version. When first released on home video, the film was artlessly cropped and carelessly transferred, making mud of its rich cinematography. The movie’s long and wide shots demand that it be seen on a big screen: if this is a good print, it will have been worth getting up early on Sunday morning.

CABARET
I don’t see any good reason to pass up seeing a Bob Fosse movie on the big screen at this point. Unless it’s Star 80. Plenty of brilliant theatre directors have proved pedestrian or inept at moviemaking but Bob Fosse, able to make theatricality look dynamic rather than staged on film, was genius of both.

VIVA LAS VEGAS
I’m not going to claim that Viva Las Vegas is a good movie - who could? Even Elvis’ magnetism can’t pull you through some of the ho-hum dialogue scenes, and you may wish they’d drop all pretense of a plot because it’s a time-waster that no one seems to care about save a peripheral character actor or two. But Elvis and Ann-Margret make a ludicrously hot couple, and their musical numbers are retro nirvana. I’m almost certain that this is the only Elvis movie to pair him with a female co-star given about as many musical numbers - he may sing more, but her dancing evens the score. Their duet “The Lady Loves Me” is a camp delight but the movie’s real high has them on a dance floor that looks like a roulette wheel. It’s like a call and response between his pelvis and her hips. Somehow, it’s both laughably kitsch and dirty-sexy.

Wishlist for next time: Kiss Me Kate in 3-D, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Sweet Charity, Porgy And Bess and, to round out the Ann-Margret musicals trifecta, Bye Bye Birdie.

I talked with three playwrights whose work will be seen at this year’s Summer Play Festival (through August 2nd, at The Public)

What is The Happy Sad about?

It’s about relationships. It’s about a group of 7 people who live in an East Coast city - probably New York. The play starts with a straight couple who are in the process of what seems to be breaking up, and then we shift to a gay couple having a discussion about monogamy and whether it’s possible in a relationship. Then we see how these lives are intertwined. It’s a play about discovering what you want out of love in a world where it used to be simple but now, with all these other options and possibilities, things are more complicated. It doesn’t necessarily make us more happy, having all these options.

Is the play easily defined by a genre?

When the characters gets stressed out or something emotional happens in The Happy Sad the characters break out into song. But it’s not a musical: the songs don’t advance the plot. The songs are part of a heightened theatricality that is part of my work. It’s a play with songs. My band and I wrote them.

Artistically, what are you most hoping to get out of having the play at SPF?

It’s a chance to really see the play on its feet with a really great cast, director and design team which is something that rarely happens. A lot of workshops are glorified readings, but this is a full visual staging of the play. I don’t want to say that it’s finished, but it has gone through a lot of development and I’m looking to learn a lot about the play from seeing it in front of an audience, which is the only way you really learn about a play.

How did you connect with your director, Trip Cullman?

I worked on the play with Craig Lucas at Playwrights Horizons; Craig has been a really fantastic mentor. When I got into SPF I immediately called him and said “Holy crap! This is really exciting. Do you want to work on this?” but he is working on a musical for Disney and not available. I sat down with the SPF folks to talk about directors and interviewed 5 or 6 but after talking with Trip I knew he really got the play. I knew Trip but we’d never worked together and this was a chance to, and with an amazing cast. I’m excited and honored that they’re giving up their July to throw themselves into this play, especially since it’s fairly risky. There’s a lot of nudity - pretty much every one gets naked at some point. It’s great that they are willing to do that with two weeks of rehearsal.

Tell me about your play The Chimes.

On the simplest level it’s a story of four hyper-articulate, hyper-literate teenage boys at a New England boarding school who are drawn together by their obsession and passion for Shakespeare, and then torn apart by the onset of World War II when the political realities come crashing down on their naïve and innocent heads. I like to say it’s genre-defying, It’s two time periods: the play starts in 1980 and then flashes back to 1939-1940. You see the guys when they are 18 or 19 and also when they are 60. There’s a twist along the way.

How did you become obsessed with Shakespeare?

When I was a student in Florida I saw Hamlet in Orlando. It was outdoors on a lake at an outdoor ampitheatre, something like Shakespeare In The Park here. I’ve been a junkie ever since. I’ve seen a million Hamlets in my lifetime though and I think I’m retiring it as required viewing for my life. Short of Jude Law, especially if Penelope Wilton comes over with him as Gertrude, Hamlet needs to go away.

What’s been your experience with The Public’s Emerging Writers Program?

It showers you in an embarrassment of riches; it’s one of the best experiences of my life. I’ve been in other writers’ group before this but they pale in comparison, since the Public has the resources to be very generous with writers and they are. We have these weekly meetings where we bring in the pages we are working on, and we get very excellent feedback from the staff who run the group and from the other writers..It’s welcoming and supporting which is kind of what you need when you’re trying to make it in this business.

Have you had a say in casting and design and other creative decisions while taking part in the festival?

I’ve been involved in every creative decision. I was at every audition and every initial design meeting. I’m in the rehearsal room every day. Generally I’ve made some alteration to the script every time, even if it’s just to eliminate a couple of lines that we don’t need to tell the story. I don’t want to say that the play is in progress because I’m happy with where we’ve arrived. But I did come in to the process thinking that the play was finished and one of the first things I learned was that there were things I could alter along the way. I know that other playwrights in the festival have felt the same way.

What is Whore?

It’s a journey of discovery; it’s like a coming of age story about two young people who move to the big bad city and live their dreams and find out what the world can hold. In Australia some people found it racy and provocative, neither of which I was intending. It’s got its tongue firmly in its cheek a lot of the time. It moves using thriller devices, but it’s not like a whodunit. It’s more about desire and danger and pushing boundaries and breaking rules. Seeing if you can survive with varying consequences is where the thriller element comes into it.

Does your background as a performer influence your playwriting?

Absolutely. I trained as an actor, I’m not really trained as a writer. I’m pretty sympathetic toward actors and their craft and I hope I have a decent sense as to what makes something playable as opposed to writerly. I think that is sometimes the curse: if you come to playwriting from a different or literary direction, you might not understand what can be played on the floor and what can’t.

Have you been continuing to revise Whore since its staging in Australia?

There hasn’t been a huge amount of revision, just sharpening it up and making sure it plays to an American audience. While Americanizing it I’ve learned how universal the story essentially is. I’m learning so much about the play as it’s making its journey into the world. To be honest, it’s being more openly received here than it was in Australia, there seems to be a very good buzz about it.

Were you involved in casting and other creative decisions long distance?

I’ve been in Australia until about a week ago. I knew who was being cast but without knowing the New York scene or the actors here I had to trust that Stephen Brackett, the director, was putting together a great team which he absolutely did. Stephen and I have a great relationship and get along hugely well. There’s always a leap of faith that you take and right now I’m very very happy. SPF ia a remarkable opportunity; it’s really fantastic that a festival like this occurs which is about presenting new works and new writers in full production. It’s an essential part of the development process as a playwright.

I talked with Cristin Milioti about Stunning, her co-star Charlayne Woodard, and the temptation to Patti LuPone.

What attracted you to the role of Lily, the Syrian-Jewish child-bride?

It’s one of the best roles I’ve ever read for a young woman, so well-written with a full arc and a beautiful story. I feel like the planets were in alignment that allowed me to step into this role because I had auditioned so many times with so many hundreds of other girls months earlier. It didn’t go anywhere and I was devastated. They called me back three days before the first rehearsal - they had given the part to another girl but they were replacing her. The next day I knew I had the role, thirty six hours before the first rehearsal.

David Adjmi, who wrote the play, was quoted as saying that he’s interested in characters who live adult lives but who are naive or lost to themselves. Does that apply to Lily?

It totally applies. One of the first questions that friends who’ve come to see the show ask me is: where are Lily’s parents? There are all these adults around Lily but they are almost as childish as she is. Ike, her husband, is a forty-five year old man but he’s constantly checking himself in the mirror and having these testosterone pissing contests. Lily is considered an adult by everyone in this world – she has her own house, hires a housekeeper - but no one told her what sex is or has explained the world. She’s almost like a baby when you meet her, like a little bird plucked too soon out of the nest. The whole scene where she talks with Shelly in Pig Latin as if Blanche won’t know what they are saying: it’s something that children would do.

I can’t help but notice the difference between your voice off stage now and on stage as Lily. What are you doing with your voice for this character?

As Lily it’s nasal and pushed higher; the dialect really helps, you sort of have no choice. Anne (Kauffman, the director) had to pull me back because the first voice I gave her was baby-ish. Even in that first scene that comes out with a bang it’s clear that Lily doesn’t really fit in: she’s not as fast as the other girls with the back and forth, she almost bleats like a sheep. In the second scene where she interviews Blanche she’s almost honking. That’s very stylized - it’s like Lucille Ball, tripping over herself, shouting. The more Lily learns the calmer and more grounded she gets, and there’s more pauses. That’s more of an adult way of talking and carrying her body.

Is it fair to say that the play starts out more stylized and then becomes more naturalistic?

There’s a slight shift. The first act especially is very stylized - rapid force, almost slapstick comedy. With Blanche coming in it becomes more grounded. Anne made that very clear for us.

photo: Erin Baiano

What is it like to be working with Charlayne Woodard?

She’s unbelievable and a wonderful person to be around. Charlayne is not only an incredible artist but I also felt like I really could trust her. I was my own worst enemy at first because I knew I had replaced someone. It was like jumping in the deep end. When I was feeling uncertain, she would support me - Danny Mastrogiorgio too, because the three of us worked very closely. It’s incredible to be on stage with her and to lock into those eyes. She’s constantly creating.

Is it rare, in your experience, to have an on-stage relationship where your partner is constantly creating with you?

I’ve had it at times. There have been times that were very difficult - I’ve been in plays when that relationship needed to be there but the other person had checked out. That’s one of the worst feelings to have on stage - you’re hung out to dry. That’s terrifying. Charlayne is always right there.

Have you been aware of members of the Syrian-Jewish community coming to the show and reacting to it?

Many people from that community have come and the reaction has been split. The younger people especially say “Yeah, you know what? It sorta sucks to have the mirror held up but yeah, that’s what we do, that’s very true.” Others come and from that first scene they react with “No, no! That’s not us! That’s not us!”

One night during the first week of previews there was all this commotion. This couple showed up and claimed to be related to the playwright - we found out later they were not. They burst in talking, took the two empty seats that were front row center and began to heckle us throughout the show. In the scene where I kiss Charlayne the woman said loud enough for the whole theatre to hear “That’s fu**ing disgusting, she’s a fu**ing dyke!” The scene where Jeanine (Serralles, as Shelly) tells me not to come crawling back to her or she’d kick me in the throat - they started applauding. Everyone else from the community has come to be supportive of David and to see what it is, and even if they don’t like what it is, they’re respectful. This was the only case. I felt like I was back on the playground in middle school. But this other feeling comes up - at least it does for me - and you think no, I’m not going to let them stop me from telling this girl’s story. Because that’s exactly what that is.

Were you at all tempted to stop the show and deal with them?

During one scene I was thinking of Patti LuPone-ing them, I’ve never done that and I’m in no position to. I looked around the stage and thought that the only person here who could Patti LuPone them was Charlayne, and I’m going to do what she’s doing. If she feels the need to plow through then I’m gonna plow through. I met my boyfriend for dinner after the show and I burst into tears. But I do feel – at least for Charlayne and I – that it was bonding. We thought: alright, there might be more of that and we have to be prepared. It was also a reminder of what this young girl I’m playing is dealing with.

What’s next for you?

After this I am doing The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter at NYTW with a great cast. I’m so bummed that I had to drop out of Lucy Thurber’s Monstrosity but I’ll be there to see it; it’s an awesome show. It’s unfortunate I can’t be part of it but I can’t describe how happy I am that Stunning has extended.

photo: Juan Jose Ibarra

I’ve been nursing a mad man crush on Euan Morton’s voice ever since he starred as Boy George in Taboo, so I was especially pleased that he opened his delightful set at Castle On The Hudson with that show’s “Pretty Lies”. (Bonus for Taboo fans: Liz McCartney in the audience. See picture.) Accompanied by a single piano, Morton sailed through an eclectic set of songs – the Nat King Cole standard “Smile”, “Danny Boy”, Roy Orbinson’s “You Got It”, the Eurythmics’ “Why”, a song from the musical Caligula - with assured seamlessness, partly thanks to the easy, unpretentious charm of his banter but also thanks to the depth of feeling in each interpretation. I laughed, I cried, I got wood. His voice may be smooth and pretty and his tone sweet but what is especially outstanding about his singing is how much emotion he puts into his interpretations while judiciously maintaining a vocal restraint and a gorgeous sound; it’s not for nothing that he counts Karen Carpenter among his vocal influences. I’m not often a cabaret person, but this was bliss.

Reviewed for Theatermania.

Channeling Joni Mitchell in his show Paved Paradise Redux is more than a drag for John Kelly.

When did you first start listening to, and first start performing, Joni Mitchell?

I began listening to her when I was a kid in New Jersey. I had two older sisters who were listening to her in the early ‘70’s. It was the first time I was exposed to a certain kind of wanderlust, soliloquy, lyricism. Clearly it got into my bones. And then the first time I sang Joni Mitchell’s music was at the first Wigstock Festival in 1985 in Tompkins Square Park.

Did you dress as Joni Mitchell that first time?

Yeah, the hundred million dollar question. For me it was always about the music - I was a countertenor and I knew I really wanted to sing her music. When the Wigstock festival happened it made perfect sense for me to sing “Woodstock” as “Wigstock” and to provide the visual as well. Beyond that, the visual came out of a character I shaped from her public persona. Essentially it’s me as an actor playing a role.

Do you find that audiences come in with a pre-conceived idea of the show because you perform in drag?

The upside of that is that I am able to surprise people, clobber them, and win them over. I’m able, I dare say, to sometimes transform people’s sense of things. The downside is that whole drag vs. acting argument. For instance when Cate Blanchett plays Bob Dylan no one is focused on it being drag, they’re focused on how she miraculously gives a depth to a character of the opposite gender and gives it lifeblood and also makes it her own. For me it’s a simple thing of looking at it as acting. It has the potential to be moving for people but only after it gets past the drag “female impersonator” thing. I can’t help thinking that part of that is cultural, specifically in America. The male to female gender leap has so much more of a history, a glorious history, compared to male to female. I’m immediately put in line with that historical trajectory. There’s a phobia and an inability to fathom a performance gesture where there is a gender leap as anything more than a drag show.

The main issue I have with the whole drag fixation is that people assume so many things about it and about a performer. I have some friends and colleagues who are amazing drag performers, but it also puts you in this somewhat suspect category. They think you either secretly want to cut your dick off, or you dislike women, or you have a kinky sex life. In a way it’s fascinating that it can still push people’s buttons even in the era of drag having come out of the closet, and by that I mean Hollywood movies where hetero men have to do drag to see their children. That was the nadir. Even still, it can be a potent theatrical tool.

Did your Joni Mitchell shows inspire you to learn musical instruments, or were you already a musician?

I played the guitar when I was a teenager and gave it up when I went to arts school so really I had been playing thirteen years. When I was a kid I played quite well and it came back to me. The dulcimer, which Joni game me, I just figured out by listening to the music. Her tunings are very complex. Her left hand is actually not that complicated, but her right hand - the way she plucks it is impossible to replicate, and she gets a whole orchestral sound out of it.

photo: Paula Court

Were you nervous to meet her?

Meeting her was a breeze after performing for her, which was one of the scariest things I ever had to do in my life. Everyone knew she was there - I made them sit her in the back of the place, The Fez was a small space, and the room was very charged. Facing terror I said to myself “Don’t change a thing”. Meeting her after was amazing, she told me she cried in four places. There were people taking pictures, wannabes trying to cram in the door. The whole episode was very surreal. Luckily I got to perform for her a few more times and to speak on the phone with her once in a while. The time I really got to know her was when I was speaking to a Joni Mitchell symposium in Montreal - she came to that and we hung out with her daughter in an empty jazz club for a couple of hours.

Did you find anything about her surprising?

Maybe that she’s a real hands-on artist. She looks like she’d be a painter – well, she is a painter! – or a potter. She really has that vibe about her of a real gritty in the trenches artist. Not at all the glam thing although she can muster that.

Which Joni Mitchell album would you take to a desert island?

Everybody says “Blue” and I would say maybe “Blue” or “Hejira” or her first album. Something about “Hejira” is so miraculously seamless and also unsettling. It has a reach. The first album I find so beautiful. This show was the first time I did “I Had A King” and there were certain lines in there that I’d never actually gotten before. “The room has an empty ring”: that’s the wedding ring but also the sound of emptiness. Stuff like that kills me.

Your show includes a wide variety of Joni songs but you seem to avoid her music from the ‘80’s. Is that deliberate?

Well there’s so much studio production on her ‘80’s material; it’s hard to replicate that kind of sound with such minimal forces. That said, I could choose to do an interpretation, but I’m just not that crazy about that period of her music when she was married to Larry Klein and re-embracing rock and roll.

What does the title Paved Paradise Redux mean to you?

When I first started doing the show with a band in the mid ‘80’s, I had to come up with a name. At that point, living in the East Village and being an artist and discovering my voice, gentrification was really beginning. It was very obvious when it started - a Gap moving into the St. Marks movie theatre. I was sensing that it was not going to stay as rarified as it was and by that I mean the great equation of affordable rents and artists and outsiders and like minded spirits. Redux comes from this being a reduction of three different shows I’ve done based on Joni’s material. I’m thinking of this as the definitive version.

photo: Steve Halin

I interviewed Stew recently; an abbreviated version ran at Theatermania last week.

What have you been doing since Passing Strange closed?

I’ve been really enjoying not having to be at a show eight times a week. I’ve been getting back to my rock and roll roots, writing a ton of music. I have a couple of records that will be out by the end of this year. In the next couple of months we’ll be re-issuing The Negro Problem albums for digital download and also turning them into vinyl, which has made a comeback with the listening cognoscenti. Heidi Rodewald, my collaborator, and I have this film we’ve wanted t make since 2005 that we’re gearing up for. I have a commission from The Public Theatre to write a new play with music, a musical, whatever you want to call it.

Will the new show also be semi-autobiographical?

No, it has nothing to do with me. I mean, I’m writing it so it has something to do with me, but the subject matter doesn’t. We’re having fun with a few historical figures and that’s about all I can say about it at this point except that it’s music-oriented. I have not cast myself in it because I now have the brains to know I won’t be able to get anything done if I am trapped in a play.

How did performing the show feel like a trap?

As a performer I like the freedom to do what I want when I want. One of Annie Dorsen’s strokes of genius with Passing Strange was that she really tried to make as many spots as possible for me to do what I do in my rock shows and be spontaneous. I’m thankful that she built as many of those as she could but for me it was still never enough. As a performer, I need something a little more loose. Still organized, but loose. I still want to write theatre, although I don’t necessarily want to be in it.

What did you learn from performing theatre that has stayed with you?

Precision. The ability to recreate great moments as opposed to just happening upon them, which is often what happens in rock and roll. Sometimes a magic happens in music where you have a really difficult time finding the equation that led to that magic. In theatre, things like timing are more under a microscope, what makes a line funny or not funny is more a science. I found myself on stage wondering how I’d lost a laugh on a particular line and then the stage manager would explain to get it back I only had to turn my head immediately to the left after I said it. In rock and roll we kind of don’t want to know what happened, we like having that mystery. So, with my thirty years of tricks as a rock musician on a theatre stage under that microscope, I learned a lot about myself as a performer.

photo: Michal Daniel

Considering how you value spontaneity, how did you feel about Spike Lee locking down one version of Passing Strange for the screen?

That’s the genius of Spike. I think he really got it, totally nailed it, and with his vision. I’m not saying he got the perfect Passing Strange on any given night - he wasn’t going for a filmed version of a play, he was going for a film. He didn’t make a movie of, do you know what I mean? I get really annoyed when people call this a documentary because that implies that somebody just set up three cameras and said “here’s the play!” and he really didn’t do that. As much as he likes to say that he just shot the play, it’s not true. I call him on this every time he says that and say “Man, that’s bullshit!” Every frame of it is his movie, it’s Passing Strange through his eyes only. Believe me, I am shocked at how much I love the movie because I am really critical, but I am really happy with it and the fact that it’s going to be on TV is insane!

What attracted you to writing music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespeare On The Sound?

I had wanted to work with Joanna Settle, who is going to be directing the next play at the Public that Heidi and I are doing. And, of course, working with Shakespeare’s words is like a great vacation for me. I like nothing more than writing music. I don’t particularly like writing lyrics or books or prose but music is a joy for me. I’m like a kid with a basketball; it’s not really work. I love that people think it’s work, but the truth is it’s fun. Making words, that’s a job.

Do you start from an emotional or an intellectual place when approaching each piece of music?

I didn’t walk into Midsummer in a precious way, I went in like a bull in a china closet. I didn’t take what I would consider an intellectual approach at all. I wanted to put music to the words as I saw it. I would read the scene and Joanna would give me her input but ultimately I don’t like writing prescribed music. I don’t like being told that this scene is this and therefore the music has to sound like that. I’d rather write a song that fails and have the director tell me here’s what’s wrong. Joanna is open enough that I can give her something that might not even be right for the scene but she’ll try it. So it wasn’t a careful approach. I recorded this Shakespeare music the same time I was recording my next record and even though it’s very different music I really was going on instinct.

How did you decide on the instrumentations – for instance, using a flute for the Lovers song or horns for the Faeries song?

I actually don’t know. Maybe a musicologist could analyze and figure out at what point I bring in horns or violins or whatever. It’s like putting together a collage, really. Sure, Joanna would say it was a scene of two lovers in the forest, and I would clock that, but what is the sound of two lovers in the forest? It could be anything. The best thing to do is to respond instinctively to the text and start the critique after the music exists. I think a lot of the Hollywood film industry crap is about giving the person what they want instead of giving what you actually feel from your heart and brain that you want to create.

Are these songs “Afro-baroque” like your other music?

Come to think of it yes, absolutely! That term was thought up by a neighbor of mine in Silverlake more than twenty years ago. He thought my music contained what one might call African-Americanisms – sometimes I get gruff and bluesy with my singing – and the baroque was sort of a catch all for the English influences. I feel there are very few records of mine where both those things are not reflected. Putting a racial tag on music is a little suspect to begin with, especially these days when we’ve all heard everybody else’s music. That said I do know my music draws on Howlin’ Wolf as much as it draws on The Beatles and, since my career is not over yet, I’ve only begun to release the music that reflects everything that I’m interested in.

What are you listening to now?

I embarrassed myself recently when I told my daughter that I was enjoying the iTunes DJ feature. She said “You mean the Shuffle? You’re just getting into that now? Oh Dad, you are so yesterday!” I’m slow when it comes to computer stuff. But all the time I was trapped in the dressing room on Broadway I went amazon dot come crazy and bought every book I would ever want to read and all the music I could think of to listen to. I’m listening to all that now, all of it and everything, from Sly Stone to Beethoven.