Stars on Sondheim: Jason Alexander on That Time He Sent Sondheim a Letter, in Code

March 22 marks Stephen Sondheim's 90th birthday. It's impossible to state the great contribution and influences this titan of the stage has made to musical theater, but we're taking a stab at it by reaching out to some stars who have appeared in his many shows to share their personal experiences.

Although Jason Alexander is best known for playing George Costanza on Seinfeld, theater lovers got to know the actor when he made his Broadway debut in 1981 in Merrily We Roll Along. The Stephen Sondheim-George Furth musical only last for 16 performances on Broadway, but it's still a fan favorite. It even inspired the 2016 documentary about its making, Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened, which can be streamed on Netflix now. Below, the Tony-winning actor remembers his time in Merrily with Sondheim.

Tell us about a note you received from Sondheim that you’ll never forget. 
It wasn't exactly a note but it blew my mind both then and now. When rehearsals began on Merrily We Roll Along, Steve had not yet written (or maybe not fully written) the second act opener, "It's a Hit." I remember he approached me in rehearsal one day, telling me that he was writing that number and that I would be featured in it. He then asked if there was anything unusual about my singing voice—my instrument, I believe he said—that he might not be aware of. I said he likely knew just about everything regarding my actual voice. But what he wouldn't know is that I have always had a very hard time hearing and reproducing chromatics—my ear doesn't discern sharps and flats very accurately. He said something like, "Ah, good to know" and off he went. A few days later, Stephen returned with the song we now all know. He sat down to sing my portion for me and, of course, I turned ashen. It was all chromatics—nothing but intricate sharps and flats. So, trembling in my dance shoes, I timidly said, "Steve, maybe you misheard me or maybe I misspoke, but I said, I don't hear chromatics well.” And he casually answered, "I know. You have to learn.” The man wrote the most character-perfect, musically stunning song for me and managed to include a personal challenge for me to hone my skills on. If that's not genius, tell me what the hell is.

What was your first impression of Sondheim? 
Well, there were two first impressions. One was formed by only knowing his work. The second was formed when I met him. My first impression formed by his work was that he was a master magician. Before acting, magic was my greatest ambition, and I was a pretty serious student of magic. I would listen to Steve's work and note the magic of it. People forget how magical rhymed lyrics can be. To convey a complex idea in rhythmic lines that conform to a patterned rhyme scheme, that is as dazzling as sawing someone in half and putting them back together. His ability to misdirect an audience with humor before revealing the emotional wallop of his intention is another magician's trick. So my impression was that Stephen was a magician and would almost certainly walk with the carriage of a magician—aloof, a bit condescending, trying to exude a sense of power (that he would frankly deserve). Upon meeting Steve, the impression was quite different: Gracious, warm, trying to put people at ease in his presence. Yes, the intellect radiates. Yes, you realize you are dealing with a person whose awareness and articulateness is preternatural. But there is also something very childlike about him. He wants to be part of the group. He wants to play. He wants to learn and to share all he has learned. And yes, like every good magician, he wants to dazzle. And consistently, he does. 

What’s the best gift you ever got from Sondheim?
It would be one of two. The first one was a response to a holiday card I sent him. Knowing Steve is a master puzzler, my wife and I decided to send him a holiday card in a code of our own devising. As neither of us knew jack about puzzles or coding, this was unquestionably one of the most nonsensical, patternless codes ever created by two inept humans. We were sure that if Steve responded at all, it would be to ask what the hell we had written. Instead we got a card with a beautiful "thank you" written in the exact same code that he somehow cracked. The other gift was even more special. Steve had done an interview with The New York Times around his 75th birthday in which he suggested that perhaps his time had passed. He was feeling uninspired, perhaps unappreciated and opined that he might be past the point of writing again for the theater. I sent him a letter in which I told him that my son, Gabe (maybe 10-years-old at the time), could easily sing dozens of Sondheim songs. I knew that Gabe would eventually know and appreciate the vast majority of the work. I tried to remind Steve that there was a generation of young artists that were growing up on his work, learning the craft of writing for the theater from his work, learning the intricacies of performance and interpretation from his work. And most importantly, eagerly waiting for more. I then quoted him one of the theater's greatest writers, a fellow by the name of Stephen Sondheim, who once wrote, "Anything you do, let it come from you. Then it will be new. Give us more to see.” I sent the letter off and about a week later, I got a handwritten note from Steve filled with appreciation and affection. It sits framed on a shelf and is one of the personal items I treasure most in this world. The idea that I could give Stephen back anything of value after all he has given to me, to all of us—well, I cherish that.

Which Sondheim role would you love to tackle, whether you’re appropriate or not?
Well, I know I'm not what anyone would think of at first...or second...or even distant third, but I'd love to put my ideas about Sweeney Todd to the test. I can still sing it, at least in the shower. And I believe I have some ideas about Sweeney that I haven't seen any of the other actors consider. So, if the geriatric, character actor-only production ever gets mounted, I'm throwing my hat in the ring.

Which Sondheim song would you like to sing to him for his birthday?
With love and admiration and gratitude, I'd sing "Finishing the Hat" from Sunday in the Park with George. And I'd lean into the lyric, "Look, I made a hat. Where there never was a hat.” Stephen has made many "hats" where there were never hats before. And he has elevated his "hats" to an artistry we can only celebrate and aspire toward. I am so privileged to know him, even the little that I do. Happy birthday, Steve. Give us more to see.