PATTI LUPONE

Critical Acclaim

Praise for COULDA WOULDA SHOULDA “You don’t want to miss it when Patti LuPone throws a party, which is essentially what she did with her concert Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda, less a consideration of what LuPone coulda been than a celebration of the singular stage force she is. Behold as she cocks her hop, extends a hand yearningly toward the audience and sings from her heels. Many try, but few have the knockout punch of LuPone. A Sondheim sequence found LuPone in supple, sublime form. She illuminated the witty lyrics of I Never Do Anything Twice, with clever gestures and intelligent phrasing. , delivered a poignant Anyone Can Whistle and added a brisk, ferocious and memorable Ladies Who Lunch.”

Nelson Pressley, The Washington Post “She came on like a burst of sunshine, looking impossibly young and sexy, her nimbus smile glowing and her voice at its glorious best. Patti LuPone, the American musical theater’s greatest living star was the San Francisco Symphony’s guest Saturday night for a terrific show called Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda and what she gave was the season’s hottest concert. Her voice has grown, if anything, more supple, vulnerable when the moment needs that, with reserves of power never far. There in no one like Patti LuPone.”

Octavio Roca, San Francisco Chronicle “Patti LuPone can belt ‘em out like nobody since Ethel Merman. And, when she sets her mind to it, she also can (and does) do a great deal more.”

Hedy Weiss, Chicago Sun-Times

PRAISE FOR The Lady With The Torch “A beautifully paced, marvelously delivered torch-song exploration of the pleasures and pains of love. LuPone’s remarkable, larger-than-life qualities and stunning musicality are distilled into the pure essence of her art.”

Don Heckman, The Los Angeles Times “Magical. Patti LuPone’s talent, personality and good material are all it takes to change a concert hall into a living room. This lady with the torch showed that she’s one classy master of her art.”

Maxine Ginseberg, Naples (Florida) Daily News

“Patti LuPone enters the stage and immediately she has you in the palm of her hand. A magnificent voice. A quality performance. A fantastic evening.”

Jerry Friedman, KGO Radio (San Francisco)

PRAISE FOR THE GHOSTLIGHT CD RECORDING OF The Lady with the Torch

“ FOUR STARS. Patti LuPone has a miracle of a voice. It can be as big and bold as a brass band or as plaintive as a solitary woodwind. Here it is, in all its glory, in a collection of torch songs.”

Jess Cagle, People Magazine “The Lady with the Torch features LuPone in fine form. Her throbbing alto – with its lush tones that span a remarkably impressive range – remains an exciting, unique instrument, and the actress may be singing with more emotion than ever, as she imbues each of these torch songs with an intensity that makes for thrilling listening.”

Andrew Gans, Playbill.com “The Lady with the Torch is Patti LuPone simultaneously at the peak of her powers and her most subdued. How good is LuPone? She manages to put her stamp on songs done by the likes of Frank Sinatra, Linda Ronstadt and Ray Charles. This is a perfect twilight album that will delight both aficionados of the American Songbook and those who just want music to sigh to.”

Elisabeth Vincentelli, Amazon.com “Patti LuPone’s interpretations of 14 fabulous songs are supremely effective in a low-key, unfussy way; and that unique voice of hers is rich and expressive as always.” -- Michael Portantiere, theatremania.com

PRAISE FOR MATTERS OF THE HEART

“A triumph! A mesmerizing two-hour ride. A celebration of love and loss, an exploration of the complexities of the heart through a deftly selected series of songs with LuPone’s funny reflections interspersed throughout.”

Oregonian “Nobody sings like Patti LuPone, with a dazzling range of emotions and an engaging stage presence she makes those in the audience think she is singing directly to them. Matters of the Heart is a delightful concert about love in all its dramatic and comic permutations.”

Columbus Dispatch

“In Matters of the Heart, one of the American musical stage’s great artists, Patti LuPone, sings about love of all sorts. LuPone is a virtuoso. Her song interpretation can be breathtaking. She can be torchy and funny, sometimes at the same time. If you love musical theater, you’ll love this show.”

Cincinnati Enquirer “Patti LuPone imparts the aura of a New York class act. Her songs are propelled by emotional purpose, intensity, both ardent and burning, and enormous comic flair.”

The New York Times “A tribute to the overwhelming power of love. Sublime. An emotional autobiography.”

Variety “Matters of the Heart beautifully explores that most volatile and all-consuming of subjects – love. Here is a performer in total command of her voice, the material she sings and the audience who cheers number after number.”

Associated Press “An extraordinary concert. Patti LuPone’s strength, warmth, wit and compassion suffuse songs famous and obscure.”

New York Post

“This show is about as close to perfection as you’re likely to get.” Philadelphia Inquirer

“To prove that sophisticated theatre is still alive and well, along comes Patti LuPone. She leaves you in no doubt that she is a star.”

London Sunday Telegraph “Patti LuPone stands in a spotlight and glitters. She is, through and through, the epitome of a Broadway star –untouchable, yet deeply in love with her audience.”

The Australian “LuPone shows the rest how it should be done. The singer knocked the socks off her Opera House audiences. She possesses sassy, classy attitude, a New York swagger, remarkable humor and an immense, rich voice. Ah, that voice!”

Sydney Telegraph

PATTI LUPONE Theater Pizzazz • April 20, 2016

Review: Patti LuPone: Don't Monkey With Broadway BY BRIAN SCOTT LIPTON No one would ever accuse of Patti LuPone of “monkeying around” on stage. Few performers show the kind of dedication and commitment to their material, and to connecting with their audience, as this Tony Award-winning star. But it’s little exaggeration to state that LuPone has outdone herself with her new show “Don’t Monkey With Broadway,” which debuted in New York to raucous cheers at Symphony Space on April 19 as part of Project B-Way/95. Conceived and directed by her frequent collaborator Scott Wittman, and featuring impeccable music direction by the great Joseph Thalken, this two-act, two-hour show managed to display previously unseen facets of LuPone’s musical personality, while also giving her long-time fans exactly what they came to hear: unparalleled renditions of such anthems of the Great White Way as “Meadowlark,” “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina,” “Some People,” “Being Alive,” and “The Ladies Who Lunch.” And who else – and I mean who else – would have had the guts to come out for a truly unplanned encore, and then belt out the ultra-difficult “Buenos Aries” with such head-on conviction (while also laughing at herself for forgetting a few of the words, and encouraging the theater-savvy crowd to sing along). In many ways, though, some of the greatest joys of this concert were the personal stories of her early involvement and introduction to musicals, whether in her bedroom, community theater or before making her Broadway debut, and hearing the songs she chose to illustrate these memories: a swinging “A Lot of Livin’ to Do,” a surprisingly appealing “Happy Talk,” a moving “Easy to Be Hard,” a feisty and funny “If,” and a truly sensitive pairing of “I Could Write a Book”” and “There’s a Small Hotel.” And while LuPone has worked with children before, there was something truly special about her interaction with the Northport High School choir from Long Island (the same vocal group she belonged to in high school some decades ago). These talented teens joined LuPone for the first half of the second act, which was highlighted by dynamite renditions of “Trouble” and “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat”, as well as her supposed final encore, a gorgeous a cappella and unmiked take on the glorious “Some Other Time.” At one point, LuPone cracked about how she sees herself as “sweet, vulnerable, and funny” – to much audience laughter — but she actually lived up to all those adjectives during the show, thanks to such welcome selections as “Sleepy Man,” “Anyone Can Whistle,” and, most especially, “A Boy Like That/I Have a Love” (one of a group of songs from West Side Story) in which she performed both the roles of Anita and Maria with gusto and glory (and a few deliberately hilarious bits). If we didn’t know it before, we know it now: there is nothing Patti cannot do! So, to all concert and Broadway producers out there, please heed my words: Don’t monkey around. Book this show pronto. It is one of the must-sees for any lovers of LuPone or musical theater.

PATTI LUPONE La Classical Music Examiner • March 24, 2014

Patti LuPone's "Far Away Places" concert a fantastic musical event BY AHDDA SHUR The incomparable Patti LuPone, international musical theater star, performed at the Segerstrom Concert Hall, Costa Mesa, this past weekend on Saturday March 22, in her solo concert, “Far Away Places.” Her diminutive physical size can barely contain her over-sized charm and charisma, let alone her distinctive voice. A musical theater star still at the top of her game, her voice remains in great condition. While at times more husky in the lower range than in previous years, LuPone can easily switch into powerful alto belt whenever she wants. The theme of the concert was loosely based on Patti’s life on the road as a musical theater actor and singer. Interspersed throughout the evening, Patti spoke about some of these experiences which seamlessly led into the music. LuPone's "Far Away Places" showcased her virtuosic abilities as a performer and singer. She was flawless in spinning out precise complex rhythms, long legato phrases, or change colors in her voice depending on the song. Whether LuPone was belting, crooning, standing still, or moving to the beat, she was simply mesmerizing. LuPone avoided performing songs from musicals that brought her Broadway fame. This made her show even more impressive. This was an evening of great music, in the style of former stars like the legendary Edith Piaf or Lotte Lenya. Lupone's way with the complex and demanding music from Kurt Weill, Willie Nelson, Bee Jees, Cole Porter, Edith Piaff and Sondheim allowed her to shine and always tell a story. Hardly ever about romance though some about revenge, these songs ranged from dark and brooding, to lyrical or percussive or simply bawdy fun. "Far Away Places" was conceived and directed by [Scott Whittman, and conducted by] Joseph Thalken, himself a legendary musical director and arranger. LuPone's backup band of 5 expert musicians, often sounded like a full orchestra. Thalken accompanied her on grand piano, along with Paul Pizzuti (Drums and Percussion) Andrew Stein (Violin), Antony Geralis (Synthesizer and Accordion), and Lawrence Saltzman (Guitars and Banjo). Especially impressive were Thalken's arrangements of the Kurt Weill repertoire, bringing out the dry and percussive bite in Weill's music. His occasional vocals in duet moments with LuPone were delightful. The ensemble and LuPone's singing were expertly blended by the genius of Mark Fiore, Sound Engineer. After generously entertaining us for two hours, LuPone concluded “Far Away Places” with not one, but four encores, including a song performed acapella without a microphone which touched everyone’s hearts. LuPone's performance of "Invisible" done with a hilarious Latino accent from the new musical, "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" led to her final encore from Evita, the role she created on Broadway. Singing a powerful and joyful “Just a Little Touch of Star Quality” LuPone's rousing final encore, summed up the entire evening.

PATTI LUPONE

TheaterMania June 14, 2012

Patti LuPone: Far Away Places BY BRIAN SCOTT LIPTON

"I would have been a great stewardess," cracks Patti LuPone -- before revealing that her signature catchphrase would

not have been "coffee, tea or me," but a few choice words she's uttered before -- in the midst of Far Away Places, her extraordinary new cabaret act premiering at New York's beautiful brand-new nightspot 54 Below.

That line, along with some other clever words -- and an eclectic yet brilliantly chosen songlist -- is indicative of the

magic that director Scott Wittman has performed, letting us see LuPone in the most relaxed vein I've witnessed in the past three decades. (I can't personally vouch for her legendary shows at Les Mouches in the 1980s.) She plays with the

audience, she shares a well-timed anecdote or two, she even boogies a little (to the Bee Gees' "Nights on Broadway").

She's everybody's diva.

Most importantly, of course, she sings -- not just with her trademark power, but with a sublime versatility, finding new interpretations to old favorites, from a jazz-tinged "Gypsy in My Soul" to a super-sexy pairing of "Black Market" and

"Come to the Supermarket in Old Peking," and even a surprisingly comic "I Wanna Be Around" (which she dubs the

"Sicilian National Anthem) -- all aided by a superb five-man band led by arranger Joseph Thalken.

As might be expected, she goes all-out on Stephen Sondheim's "By the Sea" (from her Broadway triumph in Sweeney

Todd), mining the song's rich verbal humor. But she also brings a remarkably moving simplicity to such ballads as "I

Cover the Waterfront," "Hymn to Love," "Travelin' Light," and the title tune, reveling in their emotional underpinnings.

And while it should be no surprise that she knows her way around the work of Kurt Weill, her renditions of "Bilbao," "Pirate Jenny," and "September Song" are practically master classes in handling these tricky works, finding the perfect

tone for each of these diverse classics.

Admittedly, fans expecting an evening of LuPone's greatest hits will not find what they're looking for here -- she does perform two encores, one chosen via tweet from the audience and likely to be a time-tested showstopper, followed by

the wonderful "Invisible" (from Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown) -- but I can't imagine anyone not being

transported by Far Away Places.

PATTI LUPONE

The New York Times June 13, 2012

New Club, but a Legend’s Familiar Face BY STEPHEN HOLDEN

Patti LuPone Is First Headliner at the Cabaret 54 Below

Descending a staircase into 54 Below, the funky-elegant new cellar cabaret on the site of the legendary disco Studio 54, I had a fantasy of visiting a speakeasy where the password for entry was a furtively whispered “verboten.” Because the

star was Broadway’s tempestuous dark empress, Patti LuPone, singing an international program titled “Far Away

Places,” the prospect of a globe-trotting musical journey back in time — when “verboten” conjured forbidden pleasures in exotic locales — was all the more tantalizing.

Nowadays Ms. LuPone generates more raw excitement than any other performer on the Broadway and cabaret axis,

with the possible exception of Liza Minnelli. At 63, she embodies decades of show business history. And her brilliant

show, conceived and directed by her longtime collaborator, Scott Wittman, deserves many lives, perhaps even a Broadway run in an expanded edition. It certifies Ms. LuPone’s place in the lineage of quirky international chanteuses

like Lotte Lenya, Marlene Dietrich and Edith Piaf, who, like Ms. LuPone, conquered show business with forceful,

outsize personalities while playing by their own musical rules.

The performance I attended Friday was a preview, and because the gas had yet to be turned on, the kitchen wasn’t

operating. (The show officially opened Wednesday night.)

The club has the intimacy of a large living room with unimpeded views and impeccable sound; there is not a bad seat.

Its sultry after-hours ambience is enhanced by brocade-patterned wall panels planted with orange-shaded lanterns. And the atmosphere is warmer and sexier than in Manhattan’s other major supper clubs. The cabaret resembles a hybrid of

the recently closed Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel and Joe’s Pub, at the Public Theater, but with much better sight

lines.

The theme of the show was announced in the opening number, “The Gypsy in My Soul,” followed by Willie Nelson’s

“Night Life,” after which Ms. LuPone joked about her lifelong wanderlust and reminisced about the “fabulous” old

days before Times Square was cleaned up.

Ms. LuPone was born to sing the louche songs of Brecht and Weill, and the arrangements for a limber quintet — led by

the pianist Joseph Thalken and featuring an accordion, banjo, violin, and guitar — lent the music a pungent Weimar

flavor. Especially evocative were Mr. Thalken’s lilting 1930s hotel orchestra-style jazz arrangements of “I Cover the

Waterfront” and “Travelin’ Light,” which Ms. LuPone invested with a wistful, torchy sensuality.

The show’s dramatic high point was a feral, scary interpretation of “Pirate Jenny,” the murderous revenge fantasy from

“The Threepenny Opera,” delivered with a sneering glare that could turn you to stone. No one, save perhaps Maria

Callas, has expressed more fury through a curled lip and an evil eye than Ms. LuPone, who can deploy the same features as easily for farce.

During the show the raging diva was balanced by the commedia dell’arte clown with “Sicilian blood,” as she joked, in

an uproarious monologue about making a film in southern Italy. She even rapped, in Cole Porter’s “Come to the Supermarket (In Old Peking).” Her volatile inner clown found its ultimate outlet in “By the Sea” from “Sweeney

Patti LuPone

The New York Times June 13, 2012

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Todd,” in which she reinvented the character of Mrs. Lovett as pure id: a demented overgrown baby, babbling

obsequiously.

The dictum that less is more doesn’t apply to Ms. LuPone. She makes more of more, and in today’s age of excess in all areas of show business, that’s hard to do.

Because 54 Below, unlike Manhattan’s other supper clubs, is a stand-alone operation, its long-term future depends on

building a loyal patronage. At least it knows exactly what it wants to be: “Broadway’s nightclub,” its advertising calls

it. After Ms. LuPone’s run ends Saturday extended engagements are booked for Andrea Martin, Brian d’Arcy James, Ben Vereen and Jenifer Lewis, with many other performers appearing for one or two nights. Ideally 54 Below will

establish itself as an intimate must-attend clubhouse for New York’s closely knit musical-theater community and its

supporters. I know I’ll be there.

PATTI LUPONE

Back Stage June 13, 2012

Cabaret Review: 'Patti LuPone: Far Away Places' BY ERIK HAAGENSEN

Every now and again there comes an experience that you immediately know you will always remember. That happened

for me at Patti LuPone's cabaret evening "Far Away Places," christening the snazzy new nightclub 54 Below, which occupies the basement of Studio 54. LuPone levitated the audience of Broadway insiders in the intimate room,

compellingly designed by John Lee Beatty in the style of a 1920s speakeasy, as effortlessly as she might flash one of

her sly smiles. It was, simply, magic.

LuPone, of course, is one of our finest stage actors, in both musicals and plays, and the possessor of a powerhouse

voice. But what distinguishes her work in cabaret is its spontaneity and interconnectedness, every moment rooted deep

in her Sicilian soul. And at 54 Below, with its cozy confines, that means it feels as if the lady is singing directly to you.

Conceiver-director Scott Wittman and LuPone have assembled a fresh and varied list of 15 songs for this 75-minute set structured loosely on the idea of travel, both in the geographical and chronological sense. An early highlight is a terrific

"Bilbao Song" (Kurt Weill–Bertolt Brecht), sung with sensual joy as a tribute to the sexy '70s in NYC (which, of

course, includes the goings-on in the famous disco that then inhabited the theater above). Frederick Hollander's "Black Market" is deliciously flirtatious, smartly followed by the showstopping "Come to the Supermarket in Old Peking"

(Cole Porter), which LuPone builds from a languid cry to a scintillatingly jazzy explosion while never once neglecting

the witty lyric. Two comic gems are the Johnny Mercer standard of vengeful regret "I Wanna Be Around" (LuPone

deems it "the Sicilian national anthem") and a gloss on Edith Piaf by Bill Burnett and Marguerite Sarlin called "I Regret Everything."

The evening's stunning centerpiece is a narrative song suite fashioned by superb arranger-conductor Joseph Thalken out

of three tunes: "Ah, the Sea Is Blue" and "Pirate Jenny," both by Weill and Brecht, which flank Johnny Green and Edward Heyman's "I Cover the Waterfront." LuPone journeys from libidinous to yearning to murderous with thrilling

fluidity as Thalken (on piano) and his band—Antony Geralis (accordion and keyboards), Paul Pizzuti (drums), Larry

Saltzman (guitar and banjo), Andy Stein (violin and saxophone)—provide expert support.

The star delivers her judicious patter with bite, even sending herself up from time to time, including one hilarious

reference to a famous incident with a cell phone during her run of "Gypsy." And though known for her powerful belt,

there's some very attractive lighter singing as well. Her "Far Away Places" (Alex Kramer–Joan Whitney) put me in

mind of Ethel Merman at Carnegie Hall, in her final concert, singing an arrestingly understated "What I Did for Love" to piano accompaniment as an encore.

As for encores, LuPone did three at the performance attended, one chosen out of tweets from the audience sent prior to

the performance and two of her own selection. The audience tweets resulted in a blockbuster rendition of "As Long As He Needs Me" (Lionel Bart), which LuPone sang on Broadway back in 1984 when she played Nancy in a short-lived

revival of "Oliver!" LuPone's choices were her sinuous signature number from "Women on the Verge of a Nervous

Breakdown," "Invisible" (David Yazbek), and Maxwell Anderson and Weill's "September Song," from "Knickerbocker Holiday," sung using the original, less-known show lyric with uncommon sensitivity as the perfect end of a perfect

evening.

Patti LuPone

Back Stage June 13, 2012

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54 Below owners Tom Viertel, Richard Frankel, Steven Baruch, and Marc Routh want the club to be a gathering place

for the Broadway community. Once the kitchen is up and running (the cold antipasto plate and dessert sample provided

to critics were fresh and delicious), I have a hunch that their wish is going to come spectacularly true.

PATTI LUPONE

The New York Times February 8, 2011

In Good ‘Company’: Patti LuPone and Stephen Colbert Join

Philharmonic Production BY DAVE ITZKOFF

When the New York Philharmonic announced in December that it would present a new semi-staged production of

“Company” in the spring starring Neil Patrick Harris, it raised the questions of (a) where the peripatetic Mr. Harris

finds the time for so many extracurricular activities and (b) what stars would share the stage with him in that Stephen Sondheim musical.

In answer to the first question, we still don’t know. In answer to the second, has the Philharmonic got a few exciting

girls and guys for you.

In addition to Mr. Harris, who as the birthday-boy bachelor Robert will be wrapping his vocal cords around songs like

“Marry Me a Little” and “Being Alive,” the Philharmonic said on Tuesday that its cast would feature Patti LuPone as

the much-married Joanne, who belts out “The Ladies Who Lunch”; Anika Noni Rose as Marta, the girlfriend who sings “Another Hundred People”; and Martha Plimpton as Sarah, a wife with an aptitude for martial arts.

Representing the Y-chromosome set, Jim Walton will play Larry, the conciliatory husband of Joanne. Oh, and playing

Harry, the semisober husband of Sarah, is Stephen Colbert, the comedian, television host, art lover and patriot.

The Philharmonic’s performances of “Company” will run from April 7 to 9 at Avery Fisher Hall, and will be directed by Lonny Price and conducted by Paul Gemignani with orchestrations by Jonathan Tunick.

From The New York Philharmonic:

Just announced, joining Neil Patrick Harris will be Stephen Colbert, Patti LuPone, and Martha Plimpton. Anika Noni Rose and Jim Walton round out the cast in what is sure to be a sold-out event.

Winner of the 1971 Tony Award for Best Musical, Company introduces you to Bobby, the perpetual bachelor with

three girlfriends and even more commitment issues. Their interactions are presented in a series of vignettes, primarily

through Robert’s eyes. When performed by the New York Philharmonic, the show’s many musical highlights (Company, Side by Side by Side, The Ladies Who Lunch, Another Hundred People, Being Alive and so much more)

will have never sounded better.

Conducted by Paul Gemignani

Directed by Lonny Price

Produced by Lonny Price and Matt Cowart

PATTI LUPONE

The New York Times October 7, 2010

Glory and Misery on the Way to Stardom BY CHARLES ISHERWOOD

Acceptance speeches are definitely a lot better to give than to receive. But Patti LuPone’s 60 seconds of glory at the

Tonys after her win for “Gypsy” constituted one of the highlights of that year’s telecast. Cradling the twirling medallion, she began with a sly joke. “It’s such a wonderful gift to be an actor who makes her living working on the

Broadway stage,” she said, “and then every 30 years or so, pick up one of these.”

As Ms. LuPone reveals with refreshing candor in her new autobiography, the line was actually written by a friend. Nevertheless it captures the LuPone tone precisely. There’s a healthy ego at work — about damn time, guys! — but the

tough edge is softened by the self-aware humor of an actor who knows in her bones what it is to be grateful, not just for

the occasional fancy paperweight, but also for the next job.

“Patti LuPone: A Memoir,” written with Digby Diehl, represents no dazzling literary feat. As a work of literature it’s more or less negligible, although the workmanlike prose is enlivened with zesty infusions of gum-chewing New York

humor. Ms. LuPone plays the highlight reel and the blooper reel essentially in straightforward chronological order,

writing of roles and rehearsals and openings and closings in a style unadorned by felicitous phrasing or sustained reflection.

But nobody reads showbiz autobiographies to discover the next Proust. If a book rings true and shovels a sufficiency of

dirt, revealing the pain and grit without quite dousing the glamour, we are satisfied. On both scores Ms. LuPone’s book delivers. She comes across as a straight talker, a tireless worker and an occasional tantrum thrower and Valium taker.

The Patti LuPone we meet in these pages has earned her reputation as a diva (in the benign sense) through her big

talent, willingness to take risks and sheer persistence, and her reputation as a diva (in the less benign sense) more out of

nerves, actorly integrity and ill fortune than blinkered egotism.

The chapters devoted to her star-making role in “Evita” illuminate both the glory and the misery, and they make for

often hair-raising reading. Ms. LuPone was working on her first big movie (Steven Spielberg’s “1941” — bum luck)

when she was summoned to New York for a final audition. She was warned that if she didn’t make it back for her morning call two days later, her Hollywood career would be over. “Really, people talk like that out there,” she writes.

Cue a blizzard. Ms. LuPone had to perform the audition in a state of heightened emotion and suppressed rage, knowing

that she’d never make it back to Los Angeles in time and that the powerful Mr. Spielberg would not be pleased. The anger helped, and she got the plum part that would turn her into a Broadway luminary overnight.

But the rewarding roles, as Ms. Lupone’s book makes clear, often come in productions plagued by angst. At one point

during the tumultuous out-of-town tryouts for “Evita,” Ms. LuPone was a hair’s breadth from being fired. Only an

encouraging word from the critic Clive Barnes to the producer Robert Stigwood — for once, the critic as hero! — saved her from being let go from one of the most high-profile musicals of the era.

Still, she struggled with the demanding vocal range and the challenge of making her own a role that had already been

created, to acclaim, by Elaine Paige in the London production. Ms. LuPone rebuffed advice on her interpretation from dancers in the London staging. “Shut up” and let me figure it out myself, she told them, and thus “a Broadway

reputation was born.”

Patti LuPone

The New York Times October 7, 2010

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Her fabled temperament aside, Ms. LuPone’s stage career has been important, and not only because she may be one of

the last generation of theater performers to attain a measure of real stardom without forging a strong career in film or

television.

Those who know her primarily for her big musical theater roles — Evita and Reno Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett and

Momma Rose — may be unaware that this Long Island-born actress was in the very first class of the Juilliard Drama

division, led somewhat rancorously by John Houseman. Or that she toured the country performing the classics for a few

years afterward in the Acting Company, the important itinerant troupe that emerged directly from that class. Or that Ms. LuPone has been a significant interpreter of the work of David Mamet.

These career passages are related in brisk, frill-free chapters that are sometimes skimpy when you’d like a little more

fleshing out. Kevin Kline sidles up in a backhand reference, and Ms. LuPone never says much about their youthful romance. She divulges little or nothing about other relationships except her happy marriage to a cameraman, with

whom she has a son.

Work is the natural focus, and the inclusiveness is salutary; the breadth of the roles she writes about attests to her assertion that she has pursued acting challenges more assiduously than star parts.

Ms. LuPone does give due prominence to the performances that could be described as the nadir and the apex of her

career to date. (She opens on Broadway next month in the new musical “Women on the Verge of a Nervous

Breakdown.”) Two meaty chapters that still ring with dudgeon are devoted to Ms. LuPone’s tumultuous experience in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical adaptation of “Sunset Boulevard.”

Unsurprisingly, she has few kind words to say about Mr. Lloyd Webber’s role in withdrawing the offer to star in the

Broadway production after the show (and its leading lady) opened to some sour reviews in the West End. Ms. LuPone does offer many amusing and unkind ones on the subject and spares a few for Glenn Close, who ultimately played the

role in New York and never sent a conciliatory or friendly message.

“You might think it would have been common courtesy, if nothing else,” Ms. LuPone grouses, with reason.

Far happier is the history of Ms. LuPone’s involvement with “Gypsy,” related in chapters that open and close the book. Even the journey to her triumphant night at the Tonys was not obstacle-free. Ms. LuPone practically had to grovel

before Arthur Laurents, the author of the musical’s book, who had a beef with her after she withdrew from one of his

plays, to win his permission to play the role in New York. And the critical reception to her debut in the role at City Center was not unanimously enthusiastic.

But Ms. LuPone has a formidable will to match Momma Rose’s. The story of her campaign to bring the show to

Broadway makes for a winning close to a book that reveals how doggedly even established actors have to work to keep a career on track, to keep the gift of a talent in flexible form, to keep the specter of oblivion — not to mention poverty

— at bay.

As Ms. LuPone writes, apropos of that life-changing turn as Eva Peron, “What many believe must have been a glorious

ascent into heady stardom was, for me, a trial by fire, with the constant threat of being burned at the stake.” Ms. LuPone is mixing her incendiary metaphors, but as this lively book illustrates, she has earned the right to get a little

overheated on occasion.

PATTI LUPONE Minneapolis Star Tribune • June 19, 2010

Saint Patti commands the stage Patti LuPone treated her fans with stories and songs during her "Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda" show. BY ROHAN PRESTON Brassy Broadway belter Patti LuPone did it her way Friday at Orchestra Hall in Minneapolis.

Using tunes from Frank Sinatra, Stephen Sondheim and the broader musical theater repertory, the lady with a torch song limned her lifelong love affair with the stage in a performance that sometimes bordered on the rapturous, especially for her adoring fans.

The two-hour show, titled "Coulda Woulda Shoulda," was remarkable not only for her energetic showmanship -- accompanied only by Chris Fenwick's supple, atmosphere-setting piano -- but also as she filled the hall with her outsized passion and stories.

Her instrument is in top form. At 61, she has the vocal athleticism and power of someone decades younger, and can clearly teach "American Idol" wannabes a thing or two about belting and maintaining their voices.

Still, LuPone's Orchestra Hall evening was an unusual kind of retrospective. The two-time Tony Award-winner sang signature numbers from roles she has famously played, including a dramatic "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina," from her much-celebrated turn as Eva Peron in "Evita"; a willful "Everything's Coming Up Roses," from "Gypsy," which was revived on Broadway in 2008 with LuPone as star.

She delivered a beautiful "Send in the Clowns" from Sondheim's "A Little Night Music," with phrasing and pathos that would be instructive for Oscar- and Tony-winner Catherine Zeta-Jones, who butchered this number on the Tony telecast last Sunday.

A storyteller with good comic timing, LuPone did numbers from some obscure shows that she had done as well, including "The Baker's Wife," which, she said, set a record at the Kennedy Center for the lowest number of tickets sold ("25 in a 2,500-seat house") and never made it to Broadway. The show yielded the stirring number "Meadowlark," which LuPone sensually embodied, working her hand from her chest down her body. Another bomb was the Alfred Uhry-Robert Waldman musical, "The Robber Bridegroom." It lasted for two weeks on Broadway in 1975 but produced a song, "Sleepy Man," which Lupone and Fenwick did as in a dreamy duet.

Of course, directors did not cast her for "Peter Pan," but she did "Never Never Land" anyway. Another show drew from roles she wished she had played but had not been cast for either because directors thought she did not fit the parts or because they were pants roles ("Camelot").

As she sang in Minneapolis, LuPone recalled two famous Babs -- Barbara Walters, to whom she has a vague resemblance, and Barbra Streisand, with whom she shares some vocal qualities and a similarly dramatic flair. (LuPone's rendition of "Don't Rain on My Parade," from "Funny Girl," underscored the comparison.)

As she came back for one encore, then another, Orchestra Hall was transformed into a sanctuary, with a commanding LuPone leading the faithful.

Patti LuPone Minneapolis Star Tribune • June 19, 2010 page 2 of 2 A storyteller with good comic timing, LuPone did numbers from some obscure shows that she had done as well, including "The Baker's Wife," which, she said, set a record at the Kennedy Center for the lowest number of tickets sold ("25 in a 2,500-seat house") and never made it to Broadway. The show yielded the stirring number "Meadowlark," which LuPone sensually embodied, working her hand from her chest down her body. Another bomb was the Alfred Uhry-Robert Waldman musical, "The Robber Bridegroom." It lasted for two weeks on Broadway in 1975 but produced a song, "Sleepy Man," which Lupone and Fenwick did as in a dreamy duet.

Of course, directors did not cast her for "Peter Pan," but she did "Never Never Land" anyway. Another show drew from roles she wished she had played but had not been cast for either because directors thought she did not fit the parts or because they were pants roles ("Camelot").

As she sang in Minneapolis, LuPone recalled two famous Babs -- Barbara Walters, to whom she has a vague resemblance, and Barbra Streisand, with whom she shares some vocal qualities and a similarly dramatic flair. (LuPone's rendition of "Don't Rain on My Parade," from "Funny Girl," underscored the comparison.)

As she came back for one encore, then another, Orchestra Hall was transformed into a sanctuary, with a commanding LuPone leading the faithful.

Patti LuPone

Chicago Sun-Times August 10, 2009

LuPone deftly delivers Weill BY HEDY WEISS

Partners with CSO for two wonderful halves of music

Composer Kurt Weill was only 50 years old when he died in 1950, yet he'd had two lives. As Ravinia Festival music director

James Conlon observed Saturday during the all-Weill program starring Patti LuPone and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra,

there was the Weill of 1920s Berlin, when he and Bertolt Brecht created such galvanic musical theater works as "The

Threepenny Opera," "The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny" and "Happy End."

And then there was the Weill who fled Nazi Germany, landed in New York and embraced his new home, collaborating on

Broadway shows that were perhaps too sopisticated for their own good.

Patti LuPone, a woman who clearly loves to sing, was in superb voice Saturday.

The music of the Berlin years was full of seductive melodies infused with a mix of both jazz and the European classical

tradition, with Brecht's caustic writing adding a crucial bite. In New York, Weill produced many lushly lyrical songs that

became treasured entries in the American songbook, even if the shows they were part of are rarely revived.

It was during a brief period in Paris in 1933, before Weill left Europe for the United States, that he and Brecht wrote "The

Seven Deadly Sins," a morality play initially envisioned as a ballet. And this work was the focus of the first half of

Saturday's program.

LuPone (on book during several sections) was in superb voice, and was expertly accompanied by the CSO and Hudson Shad,

the male quartet possessed of both formidable voices and distinctive faces. She deftly captured the edgy subtleties of this

work's dual-voiced interior monologue -- the story of Anna, a young woman who leaves her small hometown in Louisiana to

make her fortune in seven big cities, and who, along the way, becomes reshaped. Continually rationalizing her choices, the

pragmatic Anna sells out her more artistic, idealistic, emotional self as she learns what it takes to succeed. And she discovers

that "the world is a snare."

Ravinia's newly installed video screens worked wonderfully here, with the lyrics clearly projected on the screen, even if the

rather unforgiving, high-def closeups of the singers and musicians caught their flushed, sweat-stained faces on an

exceedingly muggy night.

The program's second half featured a collection of Weill's songs from both halves of his life -- some widely known, a few

lovely discoveries. Two from "Love Life," a 1948 show with a book and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner, were true revelations,

with LuPone giving passionate, memorable renderings of "Mr. Right" and "Susan's Dream" (the latter a song dropped from

the show).

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Chicago Sun-Times August 10, 2009

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A fiery, angry performance of "Surabaya Johnny" (from "Happy End") showed LuPone at her very best. And her

interpretations of two Weill classics -- the piercingly honest "September Song" and cool, neatly tabloidlike "Mack the Knife"

-- were exemplary.

For encores, LuPone -- a woman who clearly loves to sing -- was backed by Ravinia's CEO, Welz Kauffman, an expert piano

accompanist. Her strong, feverish performance of "Je Ne T'aime Pas" (a torchy number written during Weill's Paris sojourn)

was followed by a heartfelt, prayerlike take on "Lost in the Stars."

Patti LuPone

The Chicago Tribune August 10, 2009

All’s Weill at Ravinia with LuPone BY JOHN VON RHEIN

Although the Chicago Symphony Orchestra drew top billing, Saturday's concert at Ravinia clearly belonged to the one

and only Patti LuPone. The charismatic music-theater diva was returning to the festival to headline an all-Kurt Weill

program that played to her vaunted strengths as a singing actress blessed with Broadway bona fides.

Ravinia's final salute of the summer to the German composer who split his career between Berlin and Broadway

reunited the Tony Award-winning LuPone with her former Juilliard School classmate, Ravinia music director James

Conlon. The concert drew a sizable, appreciative crowd despite the oppressively muggy weather.

Conlon's varied program set the last of Weill's "German" works -- his 1933 ballet chante (sung-ballet) "The Seven

Deadly Sins" -- alongside eight songs he composed for various Broadway shows following his Immigration to America

in the 1930s.

It's time to lay to rest the tired contention that Weill sold his artistic soul to the commercial pressures of his newfound

Broadway milieu.

When LuPone curled her smoky voice around such "American" classics as "I'm a Stranger Here Myself" and Bertolt

Brecht's caustic lyrics to "Mack the Knife" (from Weill's biggest German success, "The Threepenny Opera"), the

similarities in musical style and tone were far more striking than any dissimilarities. In truth, the Berlin Weill and the

American Weill were one.

"Seven Deadly Sins," his final collaboration with Brecht, is a modern morality play pickled in wry. Two sisters who

really are one person -- the realistic Anna I and the natural Anna II -- test each of the sins as they visit various

American cities in quest of money to build a house for their family in Louisiana.

Anna's family is represented by a male vocal quartet -- taken here by the terrific ensemble Hudson Shad -- mouthing

Brecht's Marxist attacks on bourgeois materialism. Weill's score, alive with jaunty fox trot, shimmy and waltz rhythms,

provides independent, even innocent, counterpoint to Brecht's caustic cynicism.

True to precedent established by Lotte Lenya, the German actress and chanteuse who was Weill's wife and favored

interpreter, LuPone sang the vocal part to "Seven Deadly Sins" transposed downward to lie more comfortably for her.

Heard through discreet amplification, her voice sounded in good shape, a potent mix of flinty toughness and honeyed

rue. She missed no ironic nuance or sly aside in the English translation, which was flashed on the video screens in the

pavilion. (Lawn patrons weren't so lucky.)

After intermission, LuPone treated the fans to lushly orchestrated favorites from the Weill songbook. The material --

some of it familiar, but much of it not -- gave the Broadway baby a chance to cut loose and enjoy herself. The crowd

certainly did.

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The Chicago Tribune August 10, 2009

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Through it all, Lupone's care for what the lyrics mean (on the surface and subliminally), her ability to move in an

instant from a tender purr to a scalding cry, were marvelous.

Conlon supplied plenty of bite and swing of his own, not just in the songs and "Seven Deadly Sins," but also in Robert

Russell Bennett's jazzy "Symphonic Nocturne," drawn from music for Weill's 1941 show "Lady in the Dark."

Following the program proper, the stage was cleared, a piano was wheeled out, and LuPone further delighted the crowd

with a post-concert Weill cabaret. Joining her for the songs "Je Ne T'Aime Pas" and "Lost in the Stars" were pianist and

Ravinia Chief Executive Welz Kauffman and an accordionist. Great fun on a steamy night at Ravinia.

NEW YORK | LOS ANGELES

Patti LuPone

New York Times March 28, 2008

Curtain Up! It’s Patti’s Turn at ‘Gypsy’ BY BEN BRANTLEY

Watch out, New York. Patti LuPone has found her focus. And when Ms. LuPone is truly focused, she’s a laser, she

incinerates. Especially when she’s playing someone as dangerously obsessed as Momma Rose in the wallop-packing

revival of the musical “Gypsy,” which opened on Thursday night at the St. James Theater.

In July, when an earlier version of “Gypsy” starring Ms. LuPone had a limited run as part of the Encores! summer

series, this powerhouse actress gave a diffuse, narcissistic performance that seemed to be watching itself in a mirror.

She was undeniably Patti with an exclamation point, the musical cult goddess, offering her worshipers plenty of

polished brass, ululating notes and winking sexiness. But Rose, the ultimate stage mother of Gypsy Rose Lee’s

memoirs, was as yet only a wavering gleam in her eye.

What a difference eight or nine months makes. And yes, that quiet crunching sound you hear is me eating my hat. As

directed by Arthur Laurents, this latest incarnation of “Gypsy,” the 1959 fable of the last days of vaudeville, shines

with a magnified transparency that lets you see right down to the naked core of characters so hungry for attention that it

warps them.

The notion of a bare soul only flimsily disguised is appropriate to “Gypsy,” which features a book by Mr. Laurents,

music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. The title character, after all, is a burlesque queen, embodied here

in the charming flesh of Laura Benanti, who obliges with examples of the ecdysiast’s art in the second act.

But the most transfixing stripteases are characters peeling down, by seductive degrees, to their most primal selves.

What’s revealed isn’t nearly as pretty as a young Minsky dancer’s body. But its raw power should be enough to silence

any naysayers (myself included), who thought that 2008 was way too early for yet another Broadway revival of

“Gypsy,” which had been staged less than five years ago with a revelatory Bernadette Peters.

The 90-year-old Mr. Laurents, who directed two earlier revivals of “Gypsy” (with Angela Lansbury and Tyne Daly),

has had nearly half a century to ponder characters he helped bring to life. The accumulation of decades seems only to

have sharpened his vision of the fractured family at the show’s center: Rose, the smothering mother determined to

make a star out of at least one of her children; Herbie (Boyd Gaines), the gentlemanly candy salesman and reluctant

theatrical agent who loves her; and her two daughters, June and Louise (played as adults by Leigh Ann Larkin and Ms.

Benanti).

For there is very little sentimental mist here. The show’s flat, scrappy look (with sets by James Youmans and costumes

by Martin Pakledinaz), relying heavily on hand-painted scrims and backdrops, summons a world with the depth of torn

paper and the glamour of disintegrating curtains.

If we are always aware of the shabbiness of the cut-rate vaudeville circuit through which Rose drags her increasingly

discontented brood, we are also aware of the double-edged romance with which she invests that world. From the get-

go, Ms. LuPone exudes a sweet-and-sweaty air of hope and desperation, balancing on an unsteady seesaw.

Watching that balance shift is a source of wonder, amusement and even pity and terror. If in the Encores! version of

“Gypsy,” Ms. LuPone seemed to be trying on and discarding different aspects of Rose as if they were party hats, she

Patti LuPone

New York Times March 28, 2008

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has now settled on a single, highly disciplined interpretation that combines explosively contradictory elements into a

single, deceptively ordinary-looking package.

It’s as if the new wig she wears here — a ’30s-style mop of recalcitrant curls that is a vast improvement on her blunt

bowl cut of last summer — had forced her to internalize her many ideas about what makes Rose run. And while Rose

may be a dauntingly single-minded creature, Ms. LuPone now plays her less on one note than any actress I’ve seen.

This Rose begins as a busy, energetic, excited woman, and you can’t help being infected by her liveliness. You

understand why Herbie would be smitten with her, and for once, his description of her as looking “like a pioneer

woman without a frontier” fits perfectly. But every so often a darker, creepier willpower erupts, as involuntary as a

hiccup.

In Rose’s two great curtain numbers, “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” and “Rose’s Turn,” the darkness takes over so

completely that you feel that you’re watching a woman who has been peeled down to her unadorned id. In “Rose’s

Turn,” in particular, Ms. LuPone takes you on a guided tour of all Rose’s inner demons, from sexual succubus to

shivering infant. (Be warned: they will live in your head for a while.)

A great Momma Rose is usually enough for a thoroughly compelling “Gypsy.” But this one has so much more. Mr.

Laurents and his cast have applied the same careful analysis to all the major characters. As a result we become newly

sensitized to “Gypsy” as a sad story of colliding desires, of people within an extended family vainly longing for love,

for security, for recognition from one another. And this production makes us painfully aware of the toll exacted by

repeatedly missed connections.

I have never, for example, seen a Herbie as palpably in love or in pain as the one the excellent Mr. Gaines provides.

Nor has the relationship between June, on whom Rose has pinned her highest ambitions, and the neglected Louise ever

been as fully drawn as it is by Ms. Larkin and Ms. Benanti. Their duet, “If Momma Was Married,” becomes a vibrant

voyage of gleeful self-discovery between two alienated siblings.

Ms. Larkin brings out the toughness in June that marks her as her mother’s daughter. (She’s hilarious furtively flashing

her sex appeal behind Rose’s back.) And Ms. Benanti, in the performance of her career, traces Louise’s path to

becoming her mother’s daughter out of necessity. The transformation of the waifish Louise into the vulpine Gypsy

Rose Lee is completely convincing. And you’re acutely aware of what’s lost and gained in the metamorphoses.

You see, everyone’s starved for attention in “Gypsy.” That craving, after all, is the motor that keeps showbiz puttering

along. And Mr. Laurents makes sure that we sense that hunger in everyone, including the delightfully seedy trio of

strippers who initiate Gypsy into their art (Alison Fraser, Lenora Nemetz and Marilyn Caskey) and Tulsa (a first-rate

Tony Yazbeck), a member of Rose’s troupe who dares to strike out on his own.

Styne’s score, one of the best for any show ever, is given full due by the orchestra (though I don’t see why it’s been left

onstage à la Encores!). But I was so caught up in the emotional wrestling matches between the characters (and within

themselves), that I didn’t really think about the songs as songs.

When Ms. LuPone delivers “Rose’s Turn,” she’s building a bridge for an audience to walk right into one woman’s

nervous breakdown. There is no separation at all between song and character, which is what happens in those

uncommon moments when musicals reach upward to achieve their ideal reasons to be. This “Gypsy” spends much of

its time in such intoxicating air.

NEW YORK | LOS ANGELES

Patti LuPone

The New York Times August 15, 2006

Light the Lights, Boys! Mama Hears a Symphony

By CHARLES ISHERWOOD

Highland Park, Ill., Aug. 12 - No tuba, Mama Rose?

None needed, thank you. Granted a temporary sabbatical from the ghoulish marching band in

Broadway's "Sweeney Todd," Patti LuPone got to leave the brass octopus behind in New York. Playing

the indomitable antiheroine of the musical "Gypsy" for the first time in a trio of performances over the

weekend here, Ms. LuPone was backed by what is surely the most deluxe band ever to play vaudeville

and burlesque, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. That little outfit doesn't require any assistance in the

musical department.

Ms. LuPone has become something of a fixture at the Ravinia Festival outside Chicago. Over the last

five years she has appeared in a series of staged concert performances of the musicals of Stephen

Sondheim, often in the company of Michael Cerveris, her co-star in "Sweeney Todd," and Audra

McDonald. (The Ravinia production of "Passion," featuring all three, was later seen in New York and

broadcast by PBS on "Live From Lincoln Center.")

This summer she was starring solo, tackling what is arguably the most demanding female role in the

Broadway canon. Even had she undertaken it in less lustrous circumstances, Ms. LuPone's reckoning

with this formidable part would be a noteworthy theatrical event ("the character she was born to play,"

declared the Ravinia Web site, not without reason). And with this sumptuous orchestra behind her,

performing the ebullient score by Mr. Sondheim and Jule Styne for the first time, it naturally became a

musical one, too.

Neither of these essential participants disappointed. Ms. LuPone sang with exciting power and warmth,

and the 47-piece orchestra played with a textural clarity that made you sit up and take notice, even

during the underscoring between scenes.

Under the veteran Broadway maestro Paul Gemignani, the score retained plenty of jazzy punch where

needed, but the suppleness of the orchestra's technique - a sinuously sexy violin solo here, the jokey trill

of a flute there - revealed the intricacy that underlies its infectiousness. Inspired by Mr. Sondheim's

sharp, sometimes slashing lyrics and the canny book by Arthur Laurents, Styne reached an artistic zenith

in his music for this bleakly comic musical about the corrosive allure of showbiz and the havoc it wreaks

on an already tattered family.

In contrast to some of the previous Ravinia productions and the standards at the Encores! series in New

York, this was not a stripped-down presentation of "Gypsy" but a fully staged performance, with a fine

Patti LuPone

The New York Times August 15, 2006

page 2 of 3

array of costumes by Tracy Christensen, plush lighting design by Kevin Adams, simple but smart sets by

Tony Straiges, even a little lamb (possibly a little goat, cast against type). Lonny Price, who has directed

Ms. LuPone in all of her Ravinia appearances in Mr. Sondheim's works, staged the production

effectively and essentially traditionally, even without a proper proscenium, meaning that the wings

loomed so far off to the sides that the actors all but sprinted off and onstage at times.

Ms. LuPone would surely have preferred to prepare for a role of this stature unencumbered by the strain

of a nearly yearlong run in a Broadway musical. (She missed three weeks of performances of "Sweeney

Todd" for rehearsals and performances in Ravinia, and returns to the show for its last weeks on Tuesday;

it closes on Sept. 3.) She is not the first actress to play both Mama Rose and the bloodthirsty Mrs. Lovett

of "Sweeney Todd." Angela Lansbury, the original meat-pie-maker, starred in the first Broadway revival

of "Gypsy" in 1974.

But I'd wager that Ms. LuPone is the only major performer to face the challenge of inhabiting both of

these magnificent monsters all but simultaneously. So even had she delivered a less impressive

performance, Ms. LuPone's achievement would have been remarkable. And, watching her alternately

friendly and frosty Mama Rose with her cackling Mrs. Lovett in mind, you couldn't help but notice

psychological affinities between these two superficially divergent characters.

Both are animated by a peculiar combination of maternal affection and killer instincts. Both go to nearly

inhuman lengths to seek their ends (in the case of Mrs. Lovett, entirely inhuman). Mrs. Lovett is looking

for undying love in the arms of a sociopath, but is Mama Rose's dream of warming her empty heart in

the heat of the spotlights trained on her daughters any less deluded - or destructive?

Ms. LuPone conveyed, at various points, all the conflicting impulses of this loving but hurting, self-

denying but selfish character: the hungry-eyed intensity of Rose's backstage vigils, the calculating mind

behind the cajoling exterior, the bursts of spontaneous affection, the bewilderment as she is abandoned

by everyone she loves. And just as she transformed the inelegant Mrs. Lovett into a persuasive

seductress, Ms. LuPone made of Mama Rose a forcefully sexual woman. The playful ballad "Small

World," one of Rose's more innocuous songs, became an intimate and irresistible seduction.

Fine as it was, Ms. LuPone's performance was not a fully integrated one; both vocally and dramatically,

there were lapses into the mannerisms that can mar the integrity of her work. But Mama Rose isn't a

particularly well-integrated woman now, is she?

Interestingly, and perhaps surprisingly, the highlights of Ms. LuPone's performance were not the big set

pieces: "Some People," "Everything's Coming Up Roses" and the climactic breakdown, "Rose's Turn,"

none of which reached the hair-raising emotional pitch you might have expected. Ms. LuPone was more

effective, and more moving, as the misguided but loving stage mother than as the ravenous ego in song.

Supported by fine work from Jack Willis, as Rose's perpetually put-off suitor, Herbie, and Jessica

Boevers, who charted the growing maturity of Rose's daughter, Louise (Gypsy Rose Lee), with unusual

sensitivity, Ms. LuPone's Mama Rose expressed such warm comfort in the company of her makeshift

family that her blindness to their needs became more pitiful.

Patti LuPone

The New York Times August 15, 2006

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And when she lurched into the razzle-dazzle histrionics of self-display, she was magnetic but somehow

empty, like a woman possessed by an alien spirit, driven by hungers she could not understand and would

never be able to sate.

NEW YORK | LOS ANGELES

Patti LuPone

Chicago Tribune August 14, 2006

Ravinia pulls off a respectable 'Gypsy' revival

By CHRIS JONES

To the palpable amazement of many in a packed pavilion, this past weekend's installment in an ongoing

Stephen Sondheim celebration was neither a concert-style nor a semistaged affair; there was nary a

music stand nor a tuxedo in the place. For better or worse, the Ravinia Festival audience got a full-

blown, every-line-spoken revival of "Gypsy." It was replete with lively lighting, clever costumes,

sufficient scenery, honorable homage to the original Jerome Robbins choreography and — in the person

of one Patti LuPone — a certifiable Broadway diva playing the famous role of Mama Rose with grace

and guts.

In some ways, this anachronistic affair (directed with seemingly endless energy by Lonny Price) was

like a return to the old star system. In those days, big names trundled to town, costumes on their backs,

for a brief rehearsal period followed by a crowd-pleasing appearance alongside a local cast in a beloved

historic venue, albeit typically one with walls.

The emphasis with this fresh-air, one-weekend "Gypsy" was so much on theatrical values — and on

finding room on the stage for all that dancing — that the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, no less, found

itself scrunched toward the rear. Under the baton of the great Paul Gemignani, its fine musicians looked

not so much like one of the world's great orchestras as a slightly bemused Broadway pit band wherein

most of the players were accompanying an actual striptease for the first time in their illustrious careers

— one can only hope. At least they sounded great.

This fully staged approach came with risks. For one thing, it invites you to judge the show alongside a

Broadway peer group, even though it's almost impossible for a cast so briefly together to achieve the

emotional connections that Arthur Laurents' famous book ideally needs. This project also was asking a

great deal of LuPone, who in no time at all had to make a head-spinning switch from playing Mrs.

Lovett in the Broadway revival of "Sweeney Todd" to essaying the stage mother from hell and one of

the most demanding female roles in American music theater.

Given the givens, LuPone went well beyond what one could reasonably ask. Like several other cast

members, she was still shaky on some book sections of the show Friday night. But as long as Rose nails

her turn, few worry about a bit of flubbed dialog. And in that canonical assignment, LuPone most

assuredly delivered.

She is what you might call a classic Rose, with none of the eccentric or mannered flourishes of, say, a

Bernadette Peters. Nor does LuPone have truck with revisionism. Her energy focused low in her stocky

Patti LuPone

Chicago Tribune August 14, 2006

page 2 of 2

body, she merely sets her jaw and belts out the timeless subtextual pain behind Sondheim's lyrics of

endless resilience. But LuPone also can suddenly lighten and finesse her upper register, letting the

vulnerable notes of Jule Styne's intentionally misleading melodies float with dangerous dysfunction on

the night air, just as the late, great composer surely would have wanted. "Everything's Coming Up

Roses" and the famed "Rose's Turn" were met Friday by deserved ovations.

The other principals were more problematic. Neither Jack Willis (as Herbie, the long-suffering paramour

of Rose) nor Jessica Boevers (as Louise, a.k.a., Gypsy Rose Lee) were ideally cast. Willis was far from

the usual Herbie, in that his character was mostly unsympathetic. Even in the early scenes, Willis

affected a sardonic delivery and something close to a leer. That's a reasonable choice, you could argue,

and surely a change from the usual lovable schlemiel who comes with most revivals of this show. But if

you don't ever really like Herbie, you don't care so much when Mama pimps her daughter and he walks.

Boevers, a North Shore kid but now a frequent Broadway lead, was simply terrific in the first act. The

character of the sweet-voiced, button-down beauty Louise nicely matches her huge talents. But this

show ultimately needs a more drastic and complete transition to the star-stripper than Boevers showed

us here. Her character didn't change enough, although in fairness, the second-act strips must have been

amazingly hard to pull off (so to speak) in such a huge venue.

Frankly — and limitations aside — you could spend a decent portion of the evening marveling at how

all kinds of things were pulled off in this environment. Major production numbers, after all, were

presented with all the requisite expansiveness. Ravinia, it seems, now is ready to dump the concert

performances and take on the whole Broadway shooting match. What's next? "Oklahoma," replete with

Dream Ballet? That would be no harder to do than this one.

N E W Y O R K • L O S A N G E L E S • L O N D O N

Patti LuPone

Chicago Sun-Times August 14, 2006

'Gypsy' takes a bow in Ravinia production

By HEDY WEISS

It was one of the most highly anticipated events of the summer theater season, and it certainly did not

disappoint.

This weekend's elaborate staged concert version of "Gypsy" -- the Broadway classic that, since its debut

with Ethel Merman in 1959 has left even the most practiced divas panting for breath -- marked the first

time Patti LuPone essayed the grueling and commanding role of Mama Rose. And she turned in a richly

realistic yet red-hot performance as the relentlessly driven Depression-era single mother whose fear of

abandonment is matched only by her fear of failure, and whose primal hunger to be noticed is channeled

into a fearsome ambition for her daughters.

The show is, of course, a marvel of craft and psychological understanding, with its book by Arthur

Laurents (based on the memoirs of that stylish stripper, Gypsy Rose Lee) and a glorious score by Jule

Styne (music) and Stephen Sondheim (who supplied the lyrics that can turn on a dime from the utterly

colloquial to the blisteringly operatic). The musical's deft mix of vaudeville, burlesque and old-

fashioned family drama is an ideal Broadway blend, too.

Add to this the presence of an onstage "pit band" in the form of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (with

Sondheim aficionado Paul Gemignani conducting the score with tremendous speed and clarity), and a

supporting cast that featured far more Chicago actors than usual, and you've got the makings of a terrific

production full of deftly turned performances.

Absolutely crucial to the mix here, too, was the work of director Lonny Price who, in recent years, has

staged all five of the "Sondheim 75" concerts at Ravinia, and who has clearly honed and mastered the

format. Price devised a sort of hallucinatory, memory-infused framing device for the show that fit the

story perfectly. He had Mama Rose's two young daughters -- Baby June and Louise -- literally walk out

of a giant theatrical trunk in a haze of dreamy light and then spring into their timeworn children's act.

The idea that this story is a fever dream of a memoir was established instantly.

The same hallucinatory quality is reestablished in the great second act soliloquy, "Rose's Turn" -- a

raging emotional breakdown in the form of a galvanic, performance art-style aria delivered on a bare

stage. LuPone performed the song in a way that brought to mind the crazed rage of the failed comic in

John Osborne's play, "The Entertainer." And when the real audience erupted in prolonged applause and

a standing ovation on Friday night, the actress' bows and grotesque grin of appreciation suggested Rose

was responding to the thunderous response of her imagined audience every bit as much as the real one.

Patti LuPone

Chicago Sun-Times August 14, 2006

page 2 of 2

It was perfect theater of the absurd. Beyond that, the performance left you wondering how any actress

could make it through this role alive on an eight-show-per-week Broadway schedule.

If Mama Rose is damaged goods -- and deeply damaging to her daughters' psyches, too -- she also is in

many ways a woman ahead of her time, determined not just to survive but to prevail and be noticed.

June eventually flees from her mother's grip; Louise remains passionately loyal in her fashion, though

eventually she declares a certain tense independence born of her own success.

As for Herbie, the concessions salesman and former agent who slavishly trails after Rose in the hope

that she eventually will settle down with him, the barrel-shaped veteran actor Jack Willis turns in such

an easeful portrayal of a decent man who finally reaches his limit that he appears not to be acting at all.

Chicago-bred actress Jessica Boevers, who has amassed many prestigious New York credits during the

past decade, made a graceful, unaffected, lovely-to-look-at Louise -- the daughter who finds her calling

and her particular gift for mixing self-mockery and glamor. And the trio of strippers who can't help but

lighten the mood in the second act burlesque scenes were a hoot, with Debra Watassek all gossamer

butterfly wings and irony, Jane Blass outrageously butch with her trumpet-playing gimmick, and Derin

Altay just right as the slow blonde.

Chicago actors Michael Weber, Joe Dempsey, Richard Henzel and Rengin Altay had several sharp turns

in multiple character roles, with Ashton Smalling a real firecracker as Baby June and Leo Ash Evens

easily likable as Tulsa, the ambitious chorus boy.

Choreographer Bonnie Walker, another Broadway veteran (who worked on both Tyne Daly's Broadway

edition of "Gypsy" and Bette Midler's television movie version), captured the charm of Jerome Robbins'

original work. And though designer Tony Straiges kept the scenery to an effective minimum here, there

was nothing pared back about Tracy Christensen's costumes or Kevin Adams' lighting. The truth is,

when you have a musical as strong as this one -- and a star who can take command so formidably -- you

don't need anything more.

One final note: Stephen Sondheim, said to be suffering from a bout of food poisoning, did not make it to

the show or a promised pre-concert chat on Friday. You can only hope he'll get a video version.

NEW YORK | LOS ANGELES

PATTI LUPONE

The New York Daily News January 27, 2005

LuPone's torch songs warmed hearts at the Phil

By MAXINE GINSBERG

January 27, 2005

The backdrops were inky, the Steinway was ebony, the performers dressed in black. The program, titled

"The Lady with the Torch," was billed as a tribute to the torch song, surely the saddest musical category

after the dirge.

So how come this prelude to depression sparked one of the brightest night's in the Philharmonic Center

for the Art's long history?

Blame it on the artistry of Patti LuPone, a shining light of the American theater who demonstrated in her

one-night show Tuesday that talent, personality and good material are all it takes to change a concert

hall into a living room, and an audience sometimes noted for its reticence into a crowd of adoring fans.

LuPone strode on stage with an easy familiarity borne of years in the spotlight. While her performances

in such classics as "Evita," "Sunset Boulevard," "Les Miserables" and "Pal Joey" have earned her

worldwide acclaim, she engaged her audience not as a diva working the room, but as the family friend

with a great voice, someone who wows the rest of the guests after dinner.

The effect was magical. No cellophane crumpling, restroom departures or coughing fits.

The crowd hung on every word, clapped vigorously for each number, and laughed at every witticism.

And despite the bleak theme of the program, there were plenty of witticisms. After all, it is the American

way to see humor in misfortune, and the theatrically savvy way to provide comic relief to serious work.

So LuPone peppered her plaintive ballads of love lost with amusing interpretations of "Frankie and

Johnny," "I Wanna Be Around (to pick up the pieces)," and an Edith Piaf spoof. But she had the crowd

eating out of her hand with heart-tugging versions of songs dear to the hearts of the crowd: "My Buddy,"

"Me and My Shadow," " I'm Through with Love," "Everything Happens to Me."

The veteran Broadway performer not only possesses exceptional vocal skill, but formidable dramatic

dexterity. Some songs, such as "Something Cool," and "Cottage For Sale," packed the wallop of a

playlet and further drew her listeners under her spell.

And she was generous, too. LuPone, first dressed in a black cocktail dress, later in flared tux pants and

oversize shirt, sang song after song for 90 minutes - 29, by unofficial count - with one 15-minute

intermission.

PATTI LUPONE

The New York Daily News January 27, 2005

page 2 of 2

A slight echo from the sound system was the only small snag in an otherwise agreeable production.

Musical Director Chris Fenwick, a man with his own impressive resume of musical accomplishments,

provided flawless accompaniment to the luminous performer, who remains at the top of her game and

whose dance card for the upcoming season - concerts, tours, stage roles - would be the envy of anyone

in the business.

Perhaps the duo peaked for the finale, arguably the grandmammy of all torch songs, "Body and Soul."

That brought the audience to its feet for such prolonged applause that LuPone returned to the stage, first

for an accompanied encore and then for a charming a cappella adieu.

This lady with the torch who has starred in "Master Class " showed her Tuesday night audience she's

one classy master of her art.