Because I am writing this in June of 1990 when the National Endowment for the Arts in particular and non-profit arts subsidy in general are under attack, I want to note that the creative freedom that Sondheim and Lapine were given at my theater and the good advantage they took of it is directly due to funding dollars. If subsidy is taken away from theaters, especially those that deal with new, experimental, untried work, these theaters will fade away. And if this happens, there will be no venue for new work at all and any sort of new American theater will simply disappear. Artists will no longer have artistic homes away from the marketplace. What I’m trying to say is that had it not been for subsidy there would be no Playwrights Horizons and quite possibly no Sunday in the Park with George.
A month or so after the show closed at Playwrights Horizons, I flew to Chicago to go to the Art Institute where Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte hangs. I probably should have done this at the outset instead of at the end, because as I walked up the steps and got closer and closer to the treasured painting, I finally understood what it was the two authors were doing. In front of me, and massively so, was an extraordinary composition of shapes and colors and brushstrokes that reflected the work of a man obsessed with his art. Even to a jaded, late 20th Century New Yorker, who had seen countless reproductions of La Grande Jatte and had just done a show about it, the painting was startling and lovely and upsetting and inspiring. I stood and stared for hours, much as I imagine the authors did, until I felt I was both outside the painting and inside, and definitely part of it. There were many areas and people on the huge canvas that were not represented in the musical, and I wondered who they had been and why they were there. It must have been at this point of heightened curiosity and emotion that Lapine and Sondheim began their own search for a new form inspired by the legacy of an extraordinary artist from another century.
I am very proud of the part Playwrights Horizons played in the development of Sunday in the Park with George. I think the show represents what is best about the American musical theater, and it certainly came out of what is best about the non-profit theater.
André Bishop
Playwrights Horizons
June 1990
P.S. The two best and most detailed accounts of the partnership that created Sunday in the Park with George are to be found in the 2nd edition of Craig Zadan’s Sondheim and Co. (Harper and Row) and Michiko Kakutani’s article for The New York Times, reprinted in her book The Poet at the Piano (New York Times Books).
Bernadette Peters
Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ACT I
GEORGE, an artist
DOT, his mistress
OLD LADY
HER NURSE
JULES, another artist
YVONNE, his wife
LOUISE, the daughter of Jules and Yvonne
A BOATMAN
FRANZ, servant to Jules and Yvonne
FRIEDA, cook for Jules and Yvonne, wife to Franz
A SOLDIER
MR. and MRS., an American couple
LOUIS, a baker
A WOMAN with baby carriage
A MAN with bicycle
A LITTLE GIRL
CELESTE #1, a shopgirl
CELESTE #2, another shopgirl
A BOY bathing in the river
A YOUNG MAN sitting on the bank
A MAN lying on the bank
ACT II
GEORGE, an artist
MARIE, his grandmother
DENNIS, a technician
BOB GREENBERG, the museum director
NAOMI EISEN, a composer
HARRIET PAWLING, a patron of the arts
BILLY WEBSTER, her friend
A PHOTOGRAPHER
A MUSEUM ASSISTANT
CHARLES REDMOND, a visiting curator
ALEX, an artist
BETTY, an artist
LEE RANDOLPH, the museum’s publicist
BLAIR DANIELS, an art critic
A WAITRESS
ELAINE, George’s former wife
For Sarah Kernochan
“Sunday in the Park with George”
was originally produced on Broadway by
The Shubert Organization and Emmanuel Azenberg
By arrangement with
Playwrights Horizons
Playwrights Horizons, Inc., New York City,
Produced the original production of
“Sunday in the Park with George”
in 1983
MUSICAL NUMBERS
ACT I
“Sunday in the Park with George” DOT
“No Life” JULES, YVONNE
“Color and Light” DOT, GEORGE
“Gossip” CELESTE #1, CELESTE #2, BOATMAN, NURSE,
OLD LADY, JULES, YVONNE
“The Day Off” GEORGE, NURSE, FRANZ, FRIEDA,
BOATMAN, SOLDIER, CELESTE #1, CELESTE #2,
YVONNE, LOUISE, JULES, LOUIS
“Everybody Loves Louis” DOT
“Finishing the Hat” GEORGE
“We Do Not Belong Together” DOT, GEORGE
“Beautiful” OLD LADY, GEORGE
“Sunday” COMPANY
ACT II
“It’s Hot Up Here” COMPANY
Chromolume #7 GEORGE, MARIE
“Putting It Together” GEORGE, COMPANY
“Children and Art” MARIE
“Lesson #8” GEORGE
”Move On” GEORGE, DOT
“Sunday” COMPANY
Act I takes place on a series of Sundays from 1884 to 1886 and alternates between a park on an island in the Seine just outside Paris and George’s studio.
Act II takes place in 1984 at an American art museum and on the island.
ACT I
A white stage. White floor, slightly raked and extended in perspective. Four white portals define the space. The proscenium arch continues across the bottom as well, creating a complete frame around the stage.
GEORGE enters downstage. He is an artist. Tall, with a dark beard, wearing a soft felt hat with a very narrow brim crushed down at the neck, and a short jacket. He looks rather intense. He sits downstage on the apron at an easel with a large drawing pad and a box of chalk. He stares momentarily at the pad before turning to the audience.
GEORGE: White. A blank page or canvas. The challenge: bring order to the whole.
(Arpeggiated chord. A tree flies in stage right)
Through design.
(Four arpeggiated chords. The white portals fly out and the white ground cloth comes off, revealing a grassy-green expanse and portals depicting the park scene)
Composition.
Balance.
(Two arpeggiated chords. Two trees descend)
Light.
(Arpeggiated chord. The lighting bumps, giving the impression of an early morning sunrise on the island of La Grande Jatte — harsh shadows and streaming golden light through the trees)
And harmony.
(The music coalesces into a theme, “Sunday, ” as a cut-out of a couple rises at the back of the stage. GEORGE begins to draw, then stops suddenly and goes to the wings and brings on a young woman, DOT. She wears a traditional 19th-century outfit: full-length dress with bustle, etc. When he gets her downstage right, he turns her profile, then returns downstage to his easel. He begins to draw. She turns to him. Music continues under. Annoyed)
No. Now I want you to look out at the water.
DOT: I feel foolish.
GEORGE: Why?
DOT (Indicating bustle): I hate this thing.
GEORGE: Then why wear it?
DOT: Why wear it? Everyone is wearing them!
GEORGE (Begins sketching): Everyone ...
DOT: You know they are.
(She begins to move)
GEORGE: Stand still, please.
(Music stops)
DOT (Sighs): I read they’re even wearing them in America.
GEORGE: They are fighting Indians
in America — and you cannot read.
DOT (Defensive): I can read ... a little.
(Pause)
Why did we have to get up so early?
GEORGE: The light.
DOT: Oh.
(GEORGE lets out a moan)
What’s the matter?
GEORGE (Erasing feverishly): I hate this tree.
(Arpeggio. A tree rises back into the fly space)
DOT (Hurt): I thought you were drawing me.
GEORGE (Muttering): I am. I am. Just stand still.
(DOT is oblivious to the moved tree. Through the course of the scene the landscape can continue to change. At this point a sailboat begins to slide into view)
DOT: I wish we could go sailing. I wouldn’t go this early in the day, though.
GEORGE: Could you drop your head a little, please.
(She drops her head completely)
Dot!
(She looks up, giggling)
If you wish to be a good model you must learn to concentrate. Hold the pose. Look out at the water.
(She obliges)
Thank you.
(OLD LADY enters)
OLD LADY: Where is that tree? (Pause) Nurse! NURSE!
DOT (Startled): My God!
(Sees OLD LADY)
She is everywhere.
(NURSE enters. She wears an enormous headdress)
OLD LADY: NURSE!
NURSE: What is it, Madame?
OLD LADY: The tree. The tree. Where is our tree?
NURSE: What tree?
OLD LADY: The tree we always sit near. Someone has moved it.
NURSE: No one has moved it, Madame. It is right over there. Now come along —
(NURSE attempts to help the OLD LADY along)
OLD LADY: Do not push me!
NURSE: I am not pushing. I am helping.
OLD LADY: You are pushing and I do not need any help.
NURSE (Crossing the stage): Yes, Madame.
OLD LADY: And this is not our tree!
(She continues her shuffle)
NURSE: Yes, Madame.
(She helps OLD lady sit in front of tree)
DOT: I do not envy the nurse.
GEORGE (Under his breath): She can read ...
DOT (Retaliating): They were talking about you at La Coupole.
GEORGE: Oh.
DOT: Saying strange things ...
GEORGE: They have so little to speak of, they must speak of me?
DOT: Were you at the zoo, George?
(No response)
Drawing the monkey cage?
GEORGE: Not the monkey cage.
DOT: They said they saw you.
GEORGE: The monkeys, Dot. Not the cage.
DOT (Giggling): It is true? Why draw monkeys?
OLD LADY: Nurse, what is that?
NURSE: What, Madame?
OLD LADY (Points out front): That! Off in the distance.
NURSE: They are making way for the exposition.
OLD LADY: What exposition?
NURSE: The International Exposition. They are going to build a tower.
OLD LADY: Another exposition ...
NURSE: They say it is going to be the tallest structure in the world.
OLD LADY: More foreigners. I am sick of foreigners.
GEORGE: More boats.
(An arpeggiated chord. A tugboat appears)
More trees.
DOT: George.
( Chord)
Why is it you always get to sit in the shade while I have to stand in the sun?
(Chord. No response)
George?
(Still no response)
Hello, George?
(Chord)
There is someone in this dress!
(Twitches slightly, sings to herself)
A trickle of sweat.
(Twitch)
The back of the —
(Twitch)
— head.
He always does this.
(Hiss)
Now the foot is dead.
Sunday in the park with George.
One more Su —
(Twitch)
The collar is damp,
Beginning to pinch.
The bustle’s slipping —
(Hiss and twitch)
I won’t budge one inch.
(Undulating with some pleasure, mixed with tiny twitches of vexation)
Who was at the zoo, George?
Who was at the zoo?
The monkeys and who, George?
The monkeys and who?
GEORGE: Don’t move!
DOT (Still):
Artists are bizarre. Fixed. Cold.
That’s you, George, you’re bizarre. Fixed. Cold.
I like that in a man. Fixed. Cold.
God, it’s hot out here.
Well, there are worse things
Than staring at the water on a Sunday.
There are worse things
Than staring at the water
As you’re posing for a picture
Being painted by your lover
In the middle of the summer
On an island in the river on a Sunday.
(GEORGE races over to DOT and rearranges her a bit, as if she were an object, then returns to his easel and resumes sketching. DOT hisses, twitching again)
The petticoat’s wet,
Which adds to the weight.
The sun is blinding.
(Closing her eyes)
All right, concentrate ...
GEORGE: Eyes open, please.
DOT:
Sunday in the park with George ...
GEORGE: Look out at the water. Not at me.
DOT:
Sunday in the park with George ...
Concentrate ... concentrate ...
(The dress opens and DOT walks out of it. The dress closes behind her, remaining upright; GEORGE continues sketching it as if she were still inside. During the following, DOT moves around the stage, continuing to undulate, taking representative poses as punctuation to the music, which is heavily rhythmic)
Well, if you want bread
And respect
And attention,
Not to say connection,
Modelling’s no profession.
(Does mock poses)
If you want instead,
When you’re dead,
Some more public
And more permanent
Expression
(Poses)
Of affection,
(Poses)
You want a painter,
(Brief, sharp poses throughout the following)
Poet,
Sculptor, preferably:
Marble, granite, bronze.
Durable.
Something nice with swans
That’s durable
Forever.
All it has to be is good.
(Looking over GEORGE’s shoulder at his work, then at GEORGE)
And George, you’re good.
You’re really good.
George’s stroke is tender,
George’s touch is pure.
(Sits or stands nearby and watches him intently)
Your eyes, George.
I love your eyes, George.
I love your beard, George.
I love your size, George.
But most, George,
Of all,
But most of all,
I love your painting ...
(Looking up at the sun)
I think I’m fainting ...
(The dress opens and she steps back into it, resumes pose, gives a twitch and a wince, then sings sotto voce again)
The tip of a stay.
(Wince)
Right under the tit.
No, don’t give in, just
(Shifts)
Lift the arm a bit ...
GEORGE: Don’t lift the arm, please.
DOT:
Sunday in the park with George ...
GEORGE: The bustle high, pleas
e.
DOT:
Not even a nod.
As if I were trees.
The ground could open,
He would still say “please.”
Never know with you, George,
Who could know with you?
The others I knew, George.
Before we get through,
I’ll get to you, too.
God, I am so hot!
Well, there are worse things
Than staring at the water on a Sunday.
There are worse things
Than staring at the water
As you’re posing for a picture
After sleeping on the ferry
After getting up at seven
To come over to an island
In the middle of a river
Half an hour from the city
On a Sunday.
On a Sunday in the park with —
GEORGE (The music stopping): Don’t move the mouth!!
DOT (Holds absolutely still for a very long beat. As music resumes, she pours all her extremely mixed emotions into one word):
— George!
(Speaks)
I am getting tired. The sun is too strong today.
GEORGE: Almost finished.
DOT (Sexy): I’d rather be in the studio, George.
GEORGE (Wryly): I know.
OLD LADY (Looking across the water): They are out early today.
NURSE: It is Sunday, Madame.
OLD LADY: That is what I mean, Nurse! Young boys out swimming so early on a Sunday?
Four by Sondheim Page 38