Panic Sets In
Champlin did audition on all three instruments, with a borrowed accordian and a song she'd perfected with the help of a book conveniently entitled How to Play Accordian Today. And she did not even need the whole tune—after eight measures, Sondheim cut her off, saying "Well, if you can play the piano, you can play the accordion, so let's move on, please." Champlin was understandably ecstatic about the abbreviated accordion session and that joy remained, at least until she saw what she would actually be doing in the show. "I just assumed my main instruments would be piano and flute with a dash of accordion," she explains. "My Act One score comes and the accordion—which out of the three is the only instrument I don't really know how to play—is 85% of my track. Also it is the only instrument I don't own, so I can't practice on it either. Picture first day of rehearsal: 'Oh hi, Ms. Lupone. Yes, I'm accompanying you on every song you sing.... Oh, why do I suck? Oh, wow. That's a really interesting story... ummm....'" What is a girl to do? Find one and learn the thing, of course.
The Search is On
The Sweeney Todd team told Champlin to find an accordion and an instructor and they would pay for it, but there is not accordion hotline dial 1-800-ACCORDION and you'll get a transportation company. "I swear I did eventually 'fess up about not knowing much about the accordion. Did they not believe me? Did they think I was hiding my secret identity as the accordion queen of New York? Like with all my vast knowledge of the accordion I am just going to go out and find the best accordion for Sweeney Todd? I don't even know what color to get, let alone what style. It's going to be a CSI episode for me to figure out how to play the freaking accordion."
Her first stop is a Lilliputian shop, Main Squeeze, on the Lower East Side. There are accordions everywhere and Champlin, whose hair is in braids, immediately spots a poster of around 20 young women in braids and smiles. This is the place. A thin German man with a buzz-cut, whom she later learns is named Walter Kuhr, walks up to help her. "I need the lightest possible instrument that looks slightly creepy and can play this," she says to him as she hands over her score. Soon accordions are coming off shelves, a 12-pound one is selected, and a lesson is set up for a couple of days later.
Getting to Know the Accordion
A Friend in Fear
There is additionally some concern about her accordion—the one she has can't play the score exactly as written. This light accordion she has fallen in love with is four notes short of what Sweeney Todd requires meaning that with it, she simply cannot play certain notes in the correct octave. The next size up adds six extra pounds and a whole bunch of buttons she does not need. "This is going to be like being pregnant forever anyway. If it is any bigger, you'll see me weeping during the show," Champlin laughs. The Sweeney Todd team has agreed to let her use this instrument for the first week of rehearsals, but there is a very strong possibility that they will then demand a move to a larger accordion. Tears will very likely follow, in addition to multiple trips to the chiropractor.
However, in the last moments before rehearsals begin, Champlin can neither prepare for future mistakes nor will her current instrument grow extra keys. She has done what she can. "If they give me something new, I can sight read it," she says. "I won't have to excuse myself and go into a corner for 10 minutes. Clearly I could be better, and hopefully I will be by the time we start previews, but I know what I am doing now. That was my main goal for these weeks, and I feel I have accomplished it."
It is time to enter into Sweeney Todd's rehearsal room at Ripley Greer Studios. After a deep breath and gulp, Champlin calls upon Shakespeare: "And now, 'Unto the breach, dear friends...'"
See Donna Lynne Champlin in Sweeney Todd starting October 3 at the Eugene O'Neill Theatre, 230 West 49th Street. Click for tickets and more information.
Kuhr teaches pupils in his tiny shop, where Champlin must perch on an accordion case while he sits on a piano bench. "I have to know how the instrument works," Champlin informs Kuhr at the beginning of her instruction section. "Since I play piano, I can play the right hand on the accordion, no problemo. It's the left hand with the buttons that makes me crazy. Please, dear God, explain the buttons!" Over the course of an hour, Kuhr talks a good amount providing a detailed description of the inside of an accordion, complete with visual representation, she plays a tiny bit and he asks her to join his all-female accordion orchestra. He also tells her that some of the things in the score that she was struggling with during her limited pre-lesson practice cannot actually be played on the accordion her track was scored as if it were being played on a piano with music supervisor/orchestrator Sarah Travis telling Champlin ahead of time that changes might be necessary, thus relieving her major fear that she couldn't get those moments because she sucked.
Trouble Comes Knocking
Following the lesson, it is home to practice, practice, practice—which it turns out is not only how to get to Carnegie Hall, but also how to nail an accordion track. Champlin plays everything on the piano first, so she knows how it is supposed to sound, before attempting it on the accordion. At first, she can only practice for 30 minutes at time because the accordion, even at only 12 pounds, is a tad heavy if you're not used to it. Each day she builds up her strength and works for longer. During the first week, building security pounds on her door three times. "I have a neighbor who works at night and is very sound sensitive," Champlin explains. "I usually try to accommodate him, but if it is the middle of the day, and I have to play accordion in a Broadway show in front of a bunch of people, I'm going to practice. I'm really sorry, but he is just going to have to relax." By the end of the week she is up to two and a half hours a day, which is a complete show. Two show days are still unmentionable.
After three weeks with the accordion broken up by a brief, pre-Katrina New Orleans vacation, Champlin is feeling fairly confident. A second lesson is not required because now that she understands the instrument, she is fine on her own. There are things that continue to, as she says, make her "want to buy a year's supply of Depends"—for instance, on one song, "City on Fire," she must play the accordion, flute and piano, sing a fairly tongue-twisting series of lyrics and move around. An occasional note still makes her wince and desire a glass of wine. But all and all, it's going pretty well. Then someone sends her a link to a blog in which fellow Sweeney Todd cast member, Lauren Molina soon to be seen playing Todd's daughter Johanna as well as the cello and penny whistle, who is very nervous about this new endeavor, writes that all the music has to be memorized. "What the—" Champlin exclaims after she reads it. "She better have misunderstood somebody. Somebody better be turning pages for me! Although I am comforted by the fact that she is clearly freaking out because I thought I was the only one. Like Marc Jacoby [who plays Judge Turpin] is going to walk in and be virtuosic on the trumpet, and I am going to be there rocking back and forth, just trying to get through half of it without throwing up. Now at least I know it's me and Lauren Molina!"
It only takes Champlin a little while to recover from the shock that she may possibly have to memorize the score to a two and a half hour musical, before returning to a semi-calm state. "I feel totally prepared," she says. "The only nerve-wracking thing now is that everyone knows this score. And the accordion is so easy to screw up, as I've noticed. I can just see the 30 hardcore Sweeney Todd fans cringing if I miss one note. If this was a new musical, I wouldn't need to take a lot of Tums. But this--you know every night you're going to mess something up—I'm just hoping it is not anyone's favorite lick. Because I would feel really bad about it and they would never forgive me. I know because if I were in the audience, I'd be one of those 30 hardcore fans and I'd never forgive me."