Vol. XX No. 6
March 2005
Forbidden Juilliard: A Wild Ride of Musical Satire

By KONSTANTIN SOUKHOVETSKI

We had it all: Olympian gods, a sultry registrar, no-nonsense ear-training, "J. Lo" (a.k.a. Jerome Lowenthal) in a resplendent song-and-dance number, even a David Dubal impersonation. Five Russian pianists sang, danced, acted, and generally overflowed onto the stage in a laugh-inducing plot of absurdity, taking place here at Juilliard. (Oh, I almost forgot: Onstage counseling was provided to our characters, supplied with marvelous inefficiency by the juicy, deranged, and tipsy psychiatrist who receives her patients lying on her desk in a negligee and with martini glass.)

Katya Sonina and Vassily Primakov perform “Oh, Register Now” in the first act of Forbidden Juilliard. (Photo by Peter Schaaf)
So what exactly was Forbidden Juilliard? Let me walk you through it then, beginning backstage: sound check … mike one is a go … how do you turn this thing on? Is it on? … Will it stay on as I kick my legs? … I'll be lying on the table and then falling off—will the antenna be O.K.? … bringing the house down … lights … ready? … go! "It all happens within these very walls as the moving story of Orfeo and Eurydice unfolds …" So began our tale of the famous couple, with a twist: Eurydice is to go to Juilliard instead of the Underworld, having suffered amnesia and changed her appearance. And Orfeo is following her and trying to identify her, as they both embark on their freshman year. Here they are registered, orientation-ed, ear-trained, master-classed, and David Dubal-ed with zest.

And in the second act, the other Olympians join in: Aphrodite, in a jealous rage, since she likes Orfeo herself, and Zeus, who is salivating at the idea of seducing both ladies and is altogether bored and up for amusement. All the while, they are psychoanalyzed and mistreated by a fishnet-clad shrink. (So, are you entertained yet?) And there was lots of Broadway, bantering, and lets-get-physical with the props. (Boy, did we ever!)

The whole point of the show, for us, was to stop and take a look at that fabulous place we all are in—Juilliard—and have a good, hearty laugh … not at it, but
with it! For, as we zoom through our school years, dutifully attending to our responsibilities, lectures, and careers, we forget to laugh … and I mean really laugh. If we actually take a moment to observe some of what is going on around us and with us, it is hilarious! In fact, everything and anything can be funny, from cleaning your room to signing up for a class; it's a question of wanting to laugh. And having satirized things to the extreme, we were able to create an alternative reality of the absurd that nevertheless retained the intrinsically recognizable features of the School that speak to all of us—students, faculty, staff, and guests. We wanted, for once, to let go of ourselves completely—our identity as classical musicians, our seriousness—and take everybody on a wild ride of musical satire.

Evan Shinners, who arranged the music, and faculty member Jerome Lowenthal, perform "Let Me Master Class You." (Photo by Peter Schaaf)
The idea of Forbidden Juilliard came to us at the end of last year's spring semester. It was then that I gathered together with my friends—Vassily Primakov (who had just graduated), Natalia Lavrova, Katya Sonina, and Alina Kiryayeva—and, on the spur of the moment, began talking about it. The more we thought about it, the more we realized the potential of this project. Nothing quite like it had been ever done at the School, the pianists putting on a comedic extravaganza, teetering their way about Paul Hall's stage. That very image caused us to collapse with amusement! But then, the question arose: What are we going to do the show about, and how are we going to keep it together? The solution came in the form of a myth, one that everyone would know: Orfeo and Euridice. The universal story of love (oh!) and redemption (oh, oh!)—which we would set here, at the School! As we were developing the story line, I kept thinking (as I do, from time to time) what might be the most ridiculous and entertaining turn that those characters might take (such as the "Register Now!" number, sung by the registrar to the tune of Gershwin's "Do It Again!")—and that was usually what we wound up writing into the script.

We sought two levels of communication with the audience: the sheer glee of the skits about school life and classes, superimposed onto the incongruous narrative of the Greek gods navigating their way inside Juilliard. And of course, there was my impersonation of our very own and splendid Mr. Dubal (for me, the opportunity to have everybody actually listen to my every word!), and the star turn of the year: "J. Lo," as played by Jerome Lowenthal! But another message of the show was that we all have become friends here at Juilliard, and we have the School to thank for each other (along with the remarkable years of music, arts, and student living that we all have shared here). The eight of us in the show (including Evan Shinners at the piano and Melissa Solomon playing cello) had, as the lyrics put it, "the most exciting time of our lives!"

David Dubal, good sport that he was, stood up in the audience for a bow after being impersonated. "How could I know that Vassily, Katya, Natalia, Konstantin, Alina, and Jerry were a major theatrical troupe!" he declared afterward. "
Forbidden Juilliard was far from forbidding—it was enchanting! This show, which presents all of the Juilliard glamour, should indeed be seen in ongoing production!"

Konstantin Soukhovetski is a second-year master's student in piano.



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