WEST SIDE STORY FACT SHEET
Leonard Bernsteins 1985 Recording of His Landmark Theater Work
Guide and Commentary by Jack Gottlieb
It is widely known that West Side Story (WSS) is based directly on Shakespeares
Romeo and Juliet (R&J). Far less well known is the fact that Shakespeare based his play
(1594) on other material, particularly a narrative poem by Arthur Brooke entitled The Tragicall
Historye of Romeus and Juliet (1562). The theme of two lovers thwarted by circumstances beyond
their control, however, had long before been established in Western legend: Troilus and Cressida,
Tristan and Isolde, to name only two such pairs. In more recent times, American folklore had
assimilated the myth into the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys.
Brookes description of R&J as an "vnfortunate coople" displays a
" . . . louers, thrilling themselves to vnhonest desire, neglecting the authoritie and
aduise of parents and frendes."
Shakespeare transcended the question of morality, though he borrowed freely from the earlier
poem, and in fact, he replicated Brookes actual words in at least three instances. But
Brooke pales by comparison. Shakespeare rapturously expanded the soliloquies, and fashioned
new personages endowing them with nobility.
Although there are many borrowings of plot and content from R&J to WSS, Arthur Laurents,
author of the book for the musical, did not verbally borrow from Shakespeare. But just as Shakespeare transformed
"Drunken gossypes, superstitious friers, vnchastitie, the shame of stolne contractes
hastyng to more vnhappye deathe,"
so Laurents replaces the second half of Shakespeares play, which he tells us,
"rests on Juliets swallowing a magic potion, a device that would not be
swallowed in a modern play."
"In the book (why are the spoken words for a musical show called this?) . . . the dialogue
is my translation of adolescent street talk into theater: it may sound real, but it isnt."
That he succeeded, and did so brilliantly, is attested to by his companion-in-arms Alan Jay
"Arthur Laurents book, with its moving re-telling of the Romeo and Juliet tale. . .
is a triumph of style and model of its genre. As a fellow tradesman, I was filled with the deepest
Interestingly, in two of his post-WSS screen plays, Laurents subliminally returns to the
R&J theme. In The Turning Point (featuring Mikhail Baryshnikov and Leslie Browne in the
Pas de Deux from Prokofievs balletic treatment of R&J) he explores the conflict between
marriage and career. In The Way We Were, the conflict is between political activism (embodied
by the Jewish girl, portrayed by Barbra Streisand) and social passivity (her gentile lover, Robert
Was this Way We Were in some way a recall of the original idea for WSS? Jerome Robbins
had at first envisioned Juliet as a Jewish girl and Romeo as an Italian Catholic. The action, set
during the Easter-Passover season, was to have occurred on the Lower East Side of New York City.
Hence the title might have been EAST Side Story. (Another working title was Gangway!)
That was in 1949. Six years later, Laurents and Leonard Bernstein were working (independently) in
Hollywood, where they conferred on the aborted project. The newspapers were filled with reports of
street riots by Chicano Americans in Los Angeles. Those headlines turned the trick, triggering the
imaginations of the collaborators. The locale swiftly shifted to New Yorks West Side, and in
1957 WSS exploded onto the American State. In the decades that have passed, WSS has become a
THE OPERATIC TRAP
Soon after its premiere, Bernstein wrote about the lengthy gestation between the shows
conception and birth:
"All the peering and agony and postponement and re-re-rewriting turn out to have been worth
Part of that agony was the decision
"not to cast singers: anything that sounded more professional would inevitably
sound more experienced, and then the kid quality would be gone."
How can this statement be reconciled with his 1985 recording? Critic David Stearns, among others, addresses the
issue of Opera "versus" Broadway. Actually, the problem is less an issue
in recorded sound than in live sound. If we did not know it were Kiri TeKanawa, "International
Opera Star," on the recording, would the issue have been raised?
But nevertheless, there are concerns about the forms, if not the singers. Music history has
demonstrated over and over that one mans dissonance later becomes anothers consonance.
That which seemed impossible -- even to its authors -- in 1957, has now become acceptable. It may
be box office poison to describe a "musical" as "opera"; but operatic
tendrils have by now become so intertwined with Broadway techniques that we have become the
beneficiaries of a new music theater hybrid.
Still, in 1949, Bernstein voiced apprehension of
"making a musical that tells a tragic story in musical comedy terms . . . never falling
into the operatic trap"
That trap must be the vise (as well as the vice) of vocal pyrotechnics for its own sake, without
moving the story forward.
Bernstein does avoid that trap in WSS. For example, one of the most operatic moments is the
duet between Anita and Maria: A Boy Like That/I Have a Love. This denouement is, in the words
of Stearns: "Anitas fateful change of loyalties from which the rest of the drama unfolds.
" Bernstein evolves one song out of the other through a kind of musical legerdemain. Thus when
Anita fulminates against the killings, we hear what will turn into Marias eloquence, using
precisely the same pitches and almost the same rhythm. The seed has grown to tower over the ground
in which it was planted.
While there is hope in WSS, there also is despair, and this too is reflected, in musical
terms. Throughout the entire score the interval of the tritone is prominently displayed. (Theorists
from the past have nicknamed the tritone Diabolus in musica (Devil in
music"). It was considered the most "dangerous" interval. Its unstable, rootless
quality (C, for example, to F# consists of three whole-steps, hence: tritone) was the perfect musical
distillation of the unstable relationship between Tony and Maria, and for the rootlessness, and the
resulting ruthlessness, of the Jet and Shark gangs.
Bernstein once said the show could not "depend on stars, being about kids."
Hundreds of young hopefuls auditioned for the original production. Of the forty kids
who landed the jobs - - for most, their Broadway debut - - many went on to a wide variety of show
business (or related) activities. Perhaps not all their pathways were to greater glory, but without
WSS their careers would probably have taken considerably longer to blossom. Furthermore, some of
them continued to maintain relationships with their WSS colleagues on a personal and/or professional
The most astonishing career to be launched from the WSS pad was that of its lyricist, Stephen
Sondheim, considered by many to be the most significant composer-lyricist of our time. If there is an
indigenous American operatic style of today, Sondheim must be regarded as its standard-bearer. The
operatic innovations introduced by the WSS creative quartet: broader song dimensions, simultaneities
in complex counterpoint, etc. became grist to the Sondheim mill. But, strangely, not one Sondheim
show has ever advanced the choreographic inventiveness of Jerome Robbins in WSS. (Has any show?)
Unlike Bernstein, Sondheim is not a composer for the dance.
Symphonic Dances Form West Side Story was premiered by the New York Philharmonic on
February 13, 1961, but the conductor was Lukas Foss. Bernstein was named Music Director of the
Philharmonic one year after the opening of WSS, and although he later performed and recorded the
Dances with the orchestra, he never, prior to the 1985 recording, conducted a performance
of the show. (He was in the pit to conduct the so-called Overture - - a compilation of tunes not made
by him - -for one of the early Broadway revivals). But why should someone whose career has been so
diversified concentrate on one all-consuming project, a Broadway run? Bernstein never conducted
a live theater performance of his Candide, Wonderful Town or Mass, either.
His recording of On The Town, made long after its premiere with, among others, three of
the original cast members, is the first show album ever to be put onto disc by its composer. But
one historical first has yet to occur in the annals of recorded Broadway musicals: a full
original cast album conducted by its composer.
The Academy Award for Best Picture of 1961 went to the movie version of WSS. It earned a total of
ten Oscars. Although Bernstein did not suffer the indignity of the mayhem perpetrated on his score
in the movie of On The Town, the movie of WSS did make some minor alterations. I Feel
Pretty was transferred to an earlier scene, the bridal shop. The location of Gee, Officer
Krupke was interchanged with Cool. Sondheim also wrote new lyrics for America,
performed by all the Sharks and their girls (in the stage version it is presented by four girls
These changes were judged to be necessary to sustain an on-rushing sense of doom. After all,
the movie was not interrupted by an intermission during which an audience could recover form the
devastation wrought by the danced Rumble. On stage, the bubbly I Feel Pretty, at the
beginning of Act II, was a kind of extension of intermission babble. Good theater, but not good
The singing voices of Richard Beymer (Tony, in the movie) was that of Jim Bryant, a Hollywood
jazz and commercial arranger and bass fiddler, chosen because his singing timbre matched Beymers
Similarly, Betty Wand, a mezzo-soprano, was hired to do some, but not all, of Rita (Anita)
Morenos singing. Wand later sued to get a percentage of the movie-album sales, a dispute
settled out-of-court. But the most convoluted dubbing problems were those for the voice of Natalie
Marni Nixon was employed on a day-to-day basis (no contract was signed) to do only the high or
sustained notes that Woods less disciplined voice could not manage. And, indeed, the songs were
recorded in that manner, with Wood being continually told how "wonderful" she was. While
this was going on, Nixon was being told that she would do the full soundtrack, which was hard to
believe under the circumstances. But this delicate and deliberate game of musical pawns was played
to ensure there would be not clash between star and studio until Woods visuals had been
completely filmed. When she was finally "in the can," Wood was informed that Nixon had been
elected. Woods reaction was understandable anger. (later on when she filmed her role in Gypsy,
no substitutions were made for her singing voice.)
Nixons job then became much more complicated than her dubbing of Deborah Kerr in the
filming of The King and I. There, everything had been carefully worked out in rehearsal, with
Nixon physically next to Kerr at all music rehearsals. But since Wood had already been filled with
musical inaccuracies, Nixon had to compensate for them. On long shots there was no problem, but on
close-ups she had to hedge it one way or another. (In fact, Nixon even dubbed Woods
speaking voice at the very end: "Dont you touch him!" Te adoro, Anton.")
Due to the web of deception, Nixon felt she deserved a cut of the movie-album royalties.
Neither the movie or the record producers would bow to her demands. Bernstein broke the stalemate
by volunteering a percentage of his income, a gesture of loyalty-royalty since Nixon had been a
performer-colleague of his at New York Philharmonic concerts. (Marni Nixon can be heard singing on
the NY Philharmonic's Bernstein Live!
© Copyright 2001 by Jack Gottlieb
All rights reserved. May not be used without permission.