Posted 5:58 PM by Gene

The other day the very good Terry Teachout got a little annoyed with his somewhat opposite number at City Journal the very good Stefan Kanfer for knocking Herr Doktor Sondheim, implying he was, well, some sort of old fogey who hated rock. (An odd thing for him to think, given his huffy-puffy over that Frankie Valli AudioAnimatronics show.) Perhaps we go too far -- and yet, to read Kanfer's piece on the Doktor, one can work up real sympathy for him; badly raised by a primadonna basket-case mother, he closeted himself in eternal childhood, and never became close to anyone. We know the feeling; but Sondheim had the benefit of connections starting with Ockie, and success starting with West Side Story, and the sort of fake fawning admirers who lead Kanfer to say,

[P]eople will be arguing about the two Sondheims for generations to come, thanks in large part to the press. The disconnect between the adoring critics and the critical ticket holders began decades ago and has only widened since. Even as the general public turned away, reviewers and academics, sick of the pop pap that has become a large part of Broadway fare, have either celebrated or overlooked the composer's lack of melody and the lyricist's absence of warmth. Something astringent tends to clear their heads. The critics also like to nourish the illusion that they are guiding public taste, leading it to undreamed-of modernist heights. Sondheim has responded by giving them ingenious and elaborate coterie compositions, growing more obscure and off-putting as the years advance.

Perhaps this talk is too close to comfort for Mr. Teachout, who foolishly said in so many words Herr Doktor's cannibal show was better than My Fair Lady; but one can't deny the box office; and as the saying goes words have consequences, especially when they're lavished over AHT with no audience.