Rodgers and Hart's 'By Jupiter' Reconsidered

The final full-length collaboration of Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart was their longest-running Broadway success, yet very few recordings were made of its songs at the time - none by the cast - and almost no trace remains of the musical itself, save for a few numbers that are still heard today.

The show was 1942's By Jupiter, the pair's second foray into the land of the ancient Greeks (The Boys from Syracuse was its predecessor). The musical does not deserve its obscurity, as I hope this post will demonstrate via the few contemporary recordings that were produced and a 1967 LP derived from an off-Broadway revival.

Thanks to the ever-imaginative Dave Federman for suggesting this post to me. Like me, he is a great admirer of Larry Hart - and Dick Rodgers, of course.

The Story

Ray Bolger and Benay Venuta - he gave her plenty of nothin'

Hart's book for the show was based on Julian Thompson's 1924 Broadway play The Warrior's Husband. The title couple are Hippolyta, queen of the warrior Amazons, and her stay-at-home husband Sapiens - played in the original production by Benay Venuta and Ray Bolger.

Ronald Graham and Nanette Fabray

The other couple is Theseus, a leader of the Greek soldiers who have arrived on the scene, and Antiope, head of the Amazon warriors. In the first production, these were Ronald Graham and Constance Moore (later replaced by Nanette Fabray, as in the photo and in poster at top).

This is a simplistic description, but it's enough to get our bearings.

The 1967 Cast Recording

The most complete account of the score can be found in the cast recording of the 1967 off-Broadway revival, which ran for four months. In this production, Bob Dishy was Sapiens and Jackie Alloway was Hippolyta. Theseus and Antiope were played by Robert R. Kaye and Sheila Sullivan.

Critic Paul Kresh of HiFi-Stereo Review offered this critique: "Although Bob Dishy cannot hope to compete with the original performance by Ray Bolger in the 1940's as Sapiens, Hippolyta's non-hero husband, he is certainly winning enough. In addition, Jackie Alloway as Hippolyta, Sheila Sullivan as Antiope, and Robert R. Kaye as Theseus all have lovable ways and forthright, pleasant voices."

Bob Dishy, Jackie Alloway
Sheila Sullivan, Robert R. Kaye

The production - or at least this recording - utilized bare-bones orchestrations, presumably not Don Walker's original charts. The LP's sound was cramped; I've opened it out a bit.

The recording allows you to hear nine pieces not discussed below: "For Jupiter and Greece," "Ride Amazon Ride," "Life with Father," "In the Gateway of the Temple of Minerva," "Here's a Hand," "The Boy I Left Behind Me," "Bottoms Up," and the finales for both acts.

Next we'll discuss the principal songs; that is, the ones that were commercially recorded back in 1942, most of which have retained some currency today, however slight. They are "Jupiter Forbid," "Nobody's Heart," "Ev'rything I've Got," "Wait Till You See Her" and "Careless Rhapsody."

"Jupiter Forbid"

"Jupiter Forbid" is a rousing ensemble piece of a type that is or was a staple of musical comedy. The lyrics were inspired at least in part by patriotic sentiment in wartime America:

Maybe there's a place where people never laugh 

Maybe there's a place where kids don't kid

Maybe there's a place for just the upper half

Not here, Jupiter forbid

 

Maybe there's a place whеre people nеver sing

Where you have to hide each thing you did

Where they have a sign "Keep Off the Grass" in spring

Not here, Jupiter forbid

This is the second least known song in the group. It merited one recording in 1942, and only a few since - by Jackie and Roy, Andrea Marcovici and Peter Mintun (all not included in this set).

The 1942 recording was by Hildegarde, a popular cabaret performer of the time who sounds vaguely continental despite being from Milwaukee. It was one of four she sang for a Decca album of the time, which had backing by Harry Sosnik, also of the time. The other three songs are discussed below.

Hildegarde may not be not the first name that springs to mind when you think of rousing ensemble songs, but she does "Jupiter Forbid" very well.

"Nobody's Heart"

Lorenz Hart and Richard Rodgers at a By Jupiter rehearsal

In the musical, "Nobody's Heart" is a lovelorn lament by Antiope. The song is still heard in cabarets, few that they may be. It's perhaps most notable for how the lyrics and melody support one another. The words are unremarkable, although I have always admired this verse:

Nobody's arms belong to me

No arms feel strong to me

I admire the moon

As a moon

Just a moon

Nobody's heart belongs to me today

This is another song selected by Hildegarde for her set. She dispatches it smoothly. As far as I can tell, "Nobody's Heart" then went unrecorded until several singers took it up in the mid-1950s. For this collection, I've added the 1955 reading by Audrey Morris, recently the subject of a post here.

"Ev'rything I've Got"

"Ev'rything I've Got" is perhaps the most notable example of sex-role reversal in the score. Queen Hippolyta threatens hubby Sapiens in a manner that today might be considered macho:

I've a powerful anesthesia in my fist

And the perfect wrist to give your neck a twist

Hammerlock holds, I've mastered a few

But ev'rything I've got belongs to you

 Meanwhile, Sapiens has his own method, expressed in one of my favorite Hart stanzas:

Then at night we'll sleep and sleep

Sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep

Sleep and sleep, sleep and sleep

I'll give you plenty of nothin'

At the end of the musical, by the way, the sex roles revert to "normal".

"Ev'rything I've Got," perhaps surprisingly, was the most recorded song from the score in the early days. In addition to Hildegarde's performance, we have a version from the band of Freddy Martin - with a male singer bragging about the "powerful anasthesia" in his fist, which today sounds grotesque.

In the years since, it's mainly been performed by women, although the next recording would appear to be a Betty Garrett and Milton Berle duet from 1947 (you can listen to it here, assuming you can stand Uncle Miltie). Note that both Berle and Garrett sing the lines threatening violence; the "sleep and sleep" stanza is left out.

Hart wrote the song for Benay Venuta, who told the lyricist's biographer Frederick Nolan: "He [Hart] told me, 'I'll write a big number for you, babe, you'll stop the show with it.' And he did. He wrote 'Ev'rything I've Got' while we were in rehearsal, and it turned out to be one of the smash hits of the show."

"Wait Till You See Her"

In the play, "Wait Till You See Her" is a waltz declaring Theseus' love for Antiope. The song as written has a verse that is seldom used by singers today. It sets the warrior Theseus' infatuation in relief:

My friends who knew me

Never would know me

They'd look right through me

Above and below me

And ask, "Who's that man?

"Who is that man?

"That's not my lighthearted friend"

Meeting a girl was the start of the end

Love is a simple emotion a friend should comprehend

You can hear the verse in the 1967 cast album, which also uses a chorus effectively.

David Allyn

This song, somewhat familiar today, was ignored by the recording artists of 1942. The earliest version I've found was David Allyn's from 1949, which can be found in this post from a few years ago, and which I've also included in the present set of early recordings.

Also in that set is a relatively early (1952) instrumental version from Andre Kostelanetz. His recording treats the number as if it were a precursor to Rodgers' sweeping "Carousel Waltz" of 1945.

Frederick Nolan asserts that the song "was one of the prettiest waltzes Rodgers ever wrote, and Larry's lyric, with its unconventional rhyming scheme, had a lovely, matching tenderness. They all loved it, [director Joshua] Logan especially."

That said, there was some thought that it didn't fit the show. I've read both that it was dropped after opening night and that it was cut late in the run.

"Careless Rhapsody"

"Careless Rhapsody" is not a lost masterpiece, but it doesn't deserve its oblivion. The song, written as a duet for Antiope and Theseus, merited two recordings when the show opened, both solo. One, by Hildegarde, includes the opening verse. The second, by Clyde Rogers with Freddy Martin's band, does not do so.

The lyrics link music and love - heartstrings, etc. Nolan says Logan claimed that "Careless Rhapsody" doesn't sound like Hart's work at all. While it's not the best effort of the lyricist - or Rodgers - it's entirely pleasing.

To my knowledge the song has not been recorded since the show closed, except in a By Jupiter medley done by pianist Peter Mintun many years ago.

* * *

Why isn't the show better remembered? The simplest reason is that it is eclipsed by both the earlier Rodgers and Hart hits and the later Rodgers and Hammerstein blockbusters. It's about on the level of I Married an Angel, but not as remarkable as Babes in Arms, both of which have been discussed on this site.

Second, a Musicians Union recording ban began not long after the show opened, killing any additional recording plans that might have been contemplated.

Here's critic Paul Kresh's 1967 judgment of the show: "The score of By Jupiter is not as likely to stir your pulses as often as that of The Boys from Syracuse, but it has its moments, and the best of them are in the second act: the graceful, hummable 'Wait Till You See Her,' the casual 'Careless Rhapsody,' and the exuberant 'Ev'rything I've Got.' They don't make 'em like that any more. Not lately, anyhow." Still true nearly 60 years later.

LINK to 1967 cast recording

LINK to contemporary recordings

Cole Porter's 'Let's Face It!' - The Early Recordings

That's the young Danny Kaye riding in a Jeep on the Let's Face It! program cover above. He was the motive force behind Cole Porter's 1941 hit show following his breakout performance in Kurt Weill's Lady in the Dark, which had its opening early that same year. Just nine months later Kaye's name appeared above the title on the Imperial Theater marquee for Let's Face It!

The exclamation point in the title was apparently optional

The book by Herbert and Dorothy Fields was basically a sitcom - three suspicious wives decide to bribe some soldiers at a nearby base to take up with them in a jealousy ploy. The soldiers' girlfriends find out. Complications (and Kaye specialties) ensue.

The cast was a starry one, at least in retrospect. The three wives were Eve Arden, Vivian Vance and Edith Meiser, two of whom became famous. (So did Arden's understudy, Carol Channing.) The soldiers' sweethearts were Nanette Fabray, Sunny O'Dea and Mary Jane Walsh, one of whom became famous (Fabray), and one of whom recorded several songs from the show (Walsh).

Edith Meiser, Vivian Vance and Eve Arden show Danny Kaye the big bucks 

As usual with the musicals of the time, there was no original cast album; however, Kaye did record three of its songs for Columbia, and Walsh did four for the Liberty Music Shop label. As far as I can tell, those four were exactly half of Walsh's total recorded output. Earlier, Columbia had engaged her for four songs from her other notable Broadway appearance, in Rodgers and Hart's Too Many Girls. That 1939 show is coming up in this series.

As was the practice back then, an original cast member's presence didn't mean they recorded the numbers they sang on stage. So for the first item in this collection, "Farming," we have recorded versions by Kaye, who did perform it on stage, and Walsh, who did not. The song was a sendup of the then-current fashion of the elite taking up the rural life, a topic that also inspired movies, an S.J. Perelman book, and latterly television's Green Acres.

Next in running order (at least here; this post covers only a minority of the show's score) is possibly the best known song in the show, "Ev'rything I Love." As the title might suggest, it's a tender song, and a good one. It was certainly the most popular with the record companies: Victor alone had four recordings of it - by Glenn Miller, Sammy Kaye, Dinah Shore and Tito Guizar. It has quite a lovely melody, and Liberty Music Shop broke the budget to bring in a chorus to support Walsh in her fine recording. In the show, Kaye and Walsh sang it in duet.

Mary Jane Walsh

Leading the orchestra in Walsh's recordings was Max Meth, who also conducted the theater performances. I don't know whether the stage orchestrations are used here, but I doubt it. In any case, the show's orchestrators were Hans Spialek, Don Walker and Ted Royal, a formidable trio.

I've added a second recording of "Ev'rything I Love" to the playlist because it includes the verse, which I hadn't heard before, and because the disc is by Buddy Clark, who makes frequent appearances around here.

Cole Porter

A contrast with the previous number is "Ace in the Hole," one of Porter's best and a song long beloved by cabaret performers. On stage, Mary Jane Walsh was joined by the other two girlfriends of the soldiers, but she does a solo on record. Her flinty performance of this cynical anthem is a great contrast to the romantic "Ev'rything I Love," as are Porter's clever lyrics:

     Maybe, as often it goes

     Your Abie may tire of his rose.

     So baby, this rule I propose:

     Always have an ace in the hole!

The next song, "You Irritate Me So," is the antithesis of Porter's famous "You're the Top." I've assigned it to the appropriately acerbic Nancy Walker, who recorded it in 1959. On the stage it was a duet between Nanette Fabray and Jack Williams. I imagine the song worked better with two singers flinging Porter's lyrics at one another, but Walker is pretty good, if you can handle Sid Bass' Space Age pop arrangement. When Let's Face It! opened, Walker was appearing a few blocks uptown in Best Foot Forward, her first Broadway role.

Kaye and Arden up the creek with a paddle

In the show, Danny Kaye and Eve Arden sang "Let's Not Talk About Love," but only Danny appears on the Columbia record. (Kaye and Arden had a long affair, according to Kaye biographer David Koenig, but I'm not sure when that transpired.) The song is a specialty both for Porter's clever, topical lyrics, and for Kaye, who indulges his trick of singing complex words as fast as possible. The song was an attempt to replicate his show-stopper "Tchaikowsky" in Lady in the Dark. It works fairly well.

At the time, r(h)umbas set the fashion in dance rhythms, so Porter produced one of his own - "A Little Rumba Numba." Marguerite Benton, who appeared in several Broadway musicals of the time, was the primary vocalist on stage, but did not record the piece. So I've included the contemporary disc by cabaret's Hildegarde, who handles this attractive and unfamiliar song very well. Harry Sosnik's band makes a brave attempt at the rhumba rhythms.

The final Mary Jane Walsh song is "I Hate You, Darling," which presents a typical Porter conceit - "I hate you, darling, and yet I love you so." In the show, she was joined by Kaye, Vivian Vance and James Todd, but she is solo here.

"Melody in 4F" still from Up in Arms

Perhaps surprisingly, the show included two Kaye specialty songs not written by Cole Porter. "A Fairy Tale" and "Melody in 4F" were contributed by Danny's wife Sylvia Fine working with Max Liebman. 

"Melody in 4F" is largely an auctioneer's rapid-fire spiel punctuated by words sketching the travails of the draftee - "Oh the mailman!", "Hiya, doc!" and so on, ending in "1A!" (that is, draft eligible). Much of the effect depended on Kaye's verbal acrobatics and his visual punctuations, so you may want to watch the version he did for the 1944 film Up in Arms (available here). The download includes what was probably a radio aircheck that seems to have been captured shortly after Kaye left the show, to be replaced by José Ferrer, a much different personality to be sure. Danny took Sylvia's songs with him when he decamped. The show closed a month later.

The Pierre Hotel

To complete the set, we have two instrumental medleys from William Scotty and His Cotillion Room Orchestra. The Cotillion Room is presumably the swank venue in the Pierre Hotel on Central Park East. I haven't been able to find any information on Scotty. The actual Cotillion Room bandleader at that time was probably the well-known Emil Coleman. I don't think the name on the label was a pseudonym for Coleman; as far as I can tell, that maestro did not have a recording contract at the time. It may have been the pianist or another member of the ensemble. 

The recorded selections are "Ev'rything I Love," "You Irritate Me So," "I Hate You, Darling," "Ace in the Hole" and "Farming." The polished performances are in the overripe society-band style that the Liberty Music Shop favored. (This is the musical mode that was parodied by the Glenn Miller band in "You Say the Sweetest Things, Baby," recently featured here in the Orchestra Wives recordings.)

Let's Face It! was made into a film in 1943, sans the exclamation point and most of Porter's songs. Danny Kaye became Bob Hope and Mary Jane Walsh turned into Betty Hutton, but Eve Arden remained Eve Arden. From the songs above, only "Farming" and "Let's Not Talk About Love" were retained, along with "Milk, Milk, Milk" and the title song. I don't believe that Hope or Hutton recorded anything from the score; the recording ban was still in effect for most of the year - all of it for a few of the big labels. 

Some of these same recordings were reissued by the Smithsonian in 1979, but the transfers in my set are not from that LP. The Mary Jane Walsh numbers come from my collection and most of the rest from Internet Archive. The sound from the 78s is generally quite good. 

The Smithsonian LP included detailed notes on the Let's Face It! production by Richard C. Norton, which I've included in the download. The package also includes a substantially complete souvenir program, which dates from relatively late in the show's run, after Carol Goodner had replaced Eve Arden. Finally, there are three articles from the New York Times - a story on the opening, Brooks Atkinson's rave review, and a follow-up on the production's history. The latter reads as if it was ghost-written by producer Vinton Freedley's publicist.

Let's Face It! may not be one of Porter's best known scores, but the songs are splendid - characteristic of the composer, varied and worth remembering. The performances by the leads are all you could desire.

This post is the result of a request by old friend David Federman, who wanted to hear some records by Mary Jane Walsh. More to come, David.

Kaye toasts the ensemble

Buddy Clark with the Bands (and Hildegarde)

Buddy Clark had become one of America's leading vocalists in the years before his early death in a 1948 plane crash. But he wasn't always so popular, even though he had been making records and radio appearances for many years before his hit records on the Columbia label.

Today I am presenting a selection of Clark's records as a vocalist with the bands of Freddy Martin, Archie Bleyer, Ruby Newman and Wayne King, with the addition of a few duets he made with chanteuse Hildegarde. These are from the 1930s extending out to his 1946 Hildegarde session.

His first record (?)

I am indebted to blog follower and discographer Nigel Burlinson for sending me his Buddy Clark discography, which enabled me to identify several Clark recordings where the singer is uncredited on the label. Nigel's document also provided the recording dates noted below.

Clark's first record is often thought to be a vocal on "Evening," made with the Gus Arnheim band in 1932 for Victor. Wikipedia goes so far to note that Clark sang as a tenor for this first record, then switched to baritone for his 1934 discs with Freddy Martin's orchestra. I think that is unlikely. The 1932 Buddy sounds nothing like the 1934 Buddy - who is very recognizable as the singer heard on the rest of these sides on through his Columbia records.

So who is the Buddy Clark who sang with Arnheim? I don't know, but I will note that "Buddy Clark" was a stage name. The singer who became popular was born as Samuel Goldberg.

With Martin, Bleyer and Newman

Clark's vocals for Freddy Martin were recorded in September 1934, including polished renditions of "Stars Fell on Alabama," "Isn't It a Shame" and "In the Quiet of an Autumn Night."

Just as good are two songs with a band led by Archie Bleyer (who later ran Cadence records): "Wild Honey" and "Irresistible." These were from the month after the Martin records - October 1934.

We move on to two uncredited vocals with the band of Ruby Newman, both from the new Rodgers and Hart musical On Your Toes: "Quiet Night" and the title song, both of which Clark handles beautifully. These date from March 1936.

With Wayne King

Clark started making records \with Wayne King in 1940, and soon began appearing on radio with the King band. In October 1940 they cut the the bouncy patriotic song "He's My Uncle" and the terrific Hoagy Carmichael-Harris Robison number, "I Should Have Known You Years Ago" (Buddy has some trouble negotiating the final cadence on the latter).

Clark is credited on the label of the single above, but for the balance of his Wayne King output he is incognito. This is supposedly because OKeh gave Clark a contract as a single artist - and indeed he made his first OKeh records just a month after the October date with King.

The balance of Clark's output with King include "'Til Reveille," "Dawn," "Time and Time Again," and "Time Was," all from June 1941, "Darling, How You Lied," from September of that year, and "Amour" from October. All are nicely done.

Duets with Hildegarde

Hildegarde

In February 1946, Decca engaged Clark for a few songs with the popular supper club and radio personality Hildegarde, whose fame has dimmed to the point of her being a virtual unknown these days. Her singing now seems mannered - a contrast to Clark's conversational approach. Their only two songs together were the Kern-Hammerstein "I've Told Every Little Star" and "Why Shouldn't It
Happen to Us," a milder version of Cole Porter's 1928 song "Let's Do It" by the talented wife-and-husband team of Alberta Nichols and Mann Holiner.

The singer as slugger

These are all good records, made during a period when Clark recorded regularly, either on his own or with bands, and was featured on any number of radio shows. But while well known, he was not among the nation's most popular singers until his tenure with Columbia. I came across a poll in a 1938 issue of Radio Guide that has him as the 14th most popular male singer - just below Ralph Kirbery and just above Don Ameche. Then again, in the same poll, the 15-year-old Judy Garland was the 14th most popular female singer. And the fourth most popular was Fran (Frances) Allison, whom I only know for her appearances on the TV puppet show Kukla, Fran and Ollie.

The download includes a number of other clippings from the magazines of the time, showing Clark playing baseball (above), swimming, rehearsing and dancing with his wife.

These recordings were taken from various sources - mainly from Internet Archive - but all have been remastered and the sound is generally quite good.