Stars on Sondheim: Donna Murphy Reveals Her Intense Preparation for a Sondheim Audition

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.

Donna Murphy may have received her first Tony Award in 1994 for playing the lovesick Fosca in Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine’s musical Passion, but the two-time Tony winner auditioned for Sondheim three times before that. Her first time was for Into the Woods in 1987. She went in for the Witch and got a callback. “I was too unsettling, too scary, and they were worried about how thin I was,” she recalled with a laugh. That role went to Bernadette Peters. Years later, in 2012, Murphy did play the Witch in Into the Woods at the Public Theater's Delacorte Theater in Central Park (which also starred Amy Adams, Denis O’Hare, Jessie Mueller and original Broadway cast member Chip Zien). Here, Murphy discusses the profound impact Sondheim had on her life, and the best note he ever sent her.

Describe your first meeting with Sondheim.
My first meeting with Sondheim would be when I auditioned for the original Broadway production for Into the Woods for the Witch. That was ’87. A year later, I was brought in to audition for the Baker’s Wife. I had a great audition reading with Chip Zien. They came back and said, “We’re not gonna go with Donna. We’re gonna go with somebody that Steve and James has worked with.” I never got to speak with Steve. Then, two-and-a-half years later, I auditioned for a production of Merrily We Roll Along at the Arena Stage [in Washington, D.C.]. They originally called me in for Gussie, and I said, “I want to be seen for Mary, too.” I didn’t get either role but the casting director wrote me and said that Steve had gone on and on about my talent saying, “She should be a theater star. I hope the theater doesn’t lose her to television.” I remember what that note meant to me, mostly in terms of him seeing me because I felt like he got what I was doing. My choices, my efforts—that note made it all worth it.  The first time I spoke with Steve was when I auditioned for the workshop of Passion. I remember after I sang, “I Read,” he said, “Well that was very nice.” I had really gone for it. I’d been basically Fosca at home for about three days—not washing my hair, not showering, just trying to immerse myself in what I imagined this woman’s life to be like. I remember my husband saying, “Honey, you do not have the job yet. Do I really have to have breakfast with Fosca?” After that, it became a more personal collaboration with Steve during Passion.

What’s your favorite personal Sondheim anecdote?
I have two. When I was doing Passion—the show was really struggling with figuring out how to tell the story, which was a difficult story about a difficult woman in another time. Audiences had a really hard time tolerating Fosca. People thought her behavior was laughable. I remember there were several times when Fosca passed out and people applauded. I would be quivering on the ground in character and thinking, “If the stage opened up and took me down, that would be OK.” But I loved every moment of it. I don’t know if I ever felt so alive on stage. I was coming off stage one night, and Steve was just standing near the stairwell and asked, “Are you having any fun?” If anyone else had asked me that, I would’ve gone, “It’s Stephen f**king Sondheim! How could you ask me such a trite and inane question?” But I said, “This is the most meaningful experience of my life and it’s challenging in ways I hadn’t dreamt of.” And he said, “Again, are you having any fun? Because you must, you have to find the joy in this because it’s not always like this. You know what I mean? I know what this role means to you, and it’s not always like this.” It just stopped me in my tracks, I don't think I took a breath for five minutes. I just stood there looking at him and tears welled up in my eyes and I said, “You’re right.” I gave him a hug and went up to my dressing room and cried for 25 minutes! The other anecdote, I don’t think I’ve ever shared this one: It was during Into the Woods. Stephen would often wait backstage and greet and say thank you to the cast members. It’s not like this is a guy who’s never seen his show produced. But he would thank people and he’d say kind and wonderful things to so many people in the cast. One day he stopped me and he said, “Oh, Donna!” He had a big smile on his face and tears in his eyes and he said, “You make me cry. You make me cry and you make me laugh too, thank you.” It just killed me. 

What’s the best gift you ever got from Sondheim?
I would say Fosca. Trusting me with Fosca. 

Which Sondheim role would you love to tackle, whether you’re appropriate or not?
My mind just went right to George in Sunday in the Park with George. That show is my touchstone as an artist. At moments when I’ve questioned whether I should continue to pursue the business, which I would say happens periodically for different reasons. Sunday is the recording I go to. I can just hear a chord from it and I know that performing is what I’m meant to continue to try to find a way to do, and I have to be adaptable in how that manifests. 

Tell us about a note you received from Sondheim that you’ll never forget.
I have this Sondheim book—it has Bernadette Peters on the cover. I keep all of the notes from Steve in that book like pressed flowers. There’s a lot of them, which I treasure. Every one is golden. This note was after the opening of Into the Woods: “Dear Donna, thank you so much for the opening night present, even more for your lovely note. Even more than that, for your performance, which was exhilarating illumination and, as always, superlative. I suspect the show has a good deal of extra meaning to you now that you’re a full-fledged mother. I certainly hope so. With love, Steve.” [sniffles] He knew a lot about my journey to becoming a mom, so it’s all in that. I think of him all the time. I’m looking at these and I’m like, “I’m calling Steve—he’s on my list!”

Which Sondheim song would you like to sing to him for his birthday?
Part of my brain says anything from Passion because that was such a gift that he gave me. But the last few lines of “Move On” from Sunday: “Anything you do, let it come from you. Then it will be new, give us more to see.” I think that’s a touchstone for a lot of artists, I would imagine It certainly is for me. The thought of a world where Steve Sondheim isn’t still writing is inconceivable to me. But I'm so grateful for everything that he’s given us, that came from him. Happy birthday, Steve! You’re making me cry and laugh right now.