ActorQuest - Kristin Huffman Goes Inside 'Company' 27

In November, Kristin Huffman made her Broadway debut as Sarah (flute, piccolo and sax) in John Doyle's production of Company.  The actress, with a new series of tales that go inside the making of Company from an actor's perspective, starting at the Cincinnati Playhouse and on to New York, continues her stories about a 15-year career that has led her to the door of the Ethel Barrymore Theatre.

Hi all!  Just heard that the PBS taping of Company is going to be shown some time in February.  I think it varies depending on where you live so check your listings!  I am so excited, having never actually seen it from the front.

This is the twenty-seventh story about the "Making of Company."  If you haven't read the others, go back and do so and then rejoin us here!

TWENTY-SEVEN:  A PARTY AT MR. SONDHEIM'S

That title makes me giggle like a giddy child. How many times over the years have I taught his songs to my students?  How many times have I used his tunes in an audition? There are Sondheim fanatics and aficionados and loyalists and I was invited to a party at his NY place the day after Opening! 

After fighting the urge to down a few tranquilizers, I bought a bottle of wine to give as a gift and wound up at his front door on the East Side.  Once inside his four story brownstone I was greeted by the Man himself and handed over my 10 dollar bottle of wine wrapped in a silver bag.  He must've gotten that a lot already because he said laughing, "Wow, I will never have to buy alcohol again in my life!"  But he was totally gracious and the perfect host. 

His place is filled with mostly word games, and anything involving skill and the mind.  The walls are covered in old antique board games. There was a table game that you could spin a top in and knock down pegs with numbers under them.  I was afraid to play it for fear of breaking something.   In fact, I was afraid to move most of the night for fear of breaking something!  At one point I put down my wine glass on the beautiful dining room table and then in an almost convulsive move, picked it back up again.  I could imagine leaving a ring there and then having to stand there the whole night leaning on the table with my hand over the spot until I could find a moment to sprint for the door. I had a flashback to our first Company party in Cincinnati where I left the pasta stain on Ed Stern's couch and it made me break into a sweat while just standing in the threshold of Mr. Sondheim's place. 

I tried to move very cautiously in his music room too.  There was the grand piano on which he composes.  I resisted the urge to genuflect in front of it but I also gave it a wide girth -- just in case. I looked all over for his Tony awards, but they must be in his bedroom and even I don't have the balls to sneak in there.  His bookcase was full of interesting musical theatre books, a lot written on Sondheim and his genius.  As I stood reading the titles one of the producers came up behind me and as if he was reading a title aloud said: How…to …write….a musical.   I told him that was the funniest line of the night and proceeded to tell everyone at the party that little joke.  I was like this at my childhood birthday parties too.  I just got so damn excited that it was hard to wind me down. 

Inside my head a voice was yelling: "You are partying at Stephen Sondheim's place and he actually knows your name." Katherine Hepburn used to live in the place next to him.  It's a condo community full of rich and important folks.  I took a walk in the shared gardens that connects all the condos from the inside.  Many of the places had their lights on so I am not embarrassed to say that I got a good look at the insides of a lot of those places. Some were lovely, but it confirmed the notion that money does not necessarily buy taste. Back inside Mr. Sondheim's tasteful home I took mental note of his library books. There were crossword puzzles and word book games, a history of the Oscars, musical scores and much more. I vowed to upgrade my own library.

Finally I had to leave the party to catch my train back to Connecticut. Truthfully, I could have stayed and I knew others would stay until the wee hours and get to hear all sorts of Sondheim stories. Like the time he had a visit from an upset Katherine Hepburn late at night telling him to knock off that infernal noise when he was composing Ladies who Lunch.  I knew that others would hear more stories from the Man but I was full, ready to go home and let it all sink in. Besides, those were his stories and, like a composer who wants to be influenced, but not be put in the position to steal ideas, I reminded myself that those were his stories and not mine. 

He thanked me for coming to the party before I had a chance to thank him for the invitation. As I walked back to the subway I looked like a homeless person talking to herself as I explained the whole evening to my grandmothers in heaven. I was just trying to put into words this experience so that later I could write them down. If I can presume a little, that is the one thing I guess that Stephen Sondheim and I have in common. We love words. It is our way of remembering, purging, trying to make sense of life and finding humor. I may never win a Tony for these stories but they are authentically my own words just as he speaks his own words authentically, through his music.

Photos: Fred Rose and Stephen Sondheim; Stephen Sondheim, John Doyle and Robert