Alan
Campbell, Adam Dannheisser, Holly Cruikshank and Keith Kühl
in "Contact"
Photo:Paul Kolnik
Since beginning her career as a choreographer, Stroman has
involved herself in every aspect of a show. "The more you
know about every department, whether it's the book or the lights
or the costumes or the sets, the stronger your own department
is going to be," she says. "You can do the most beautiful
dance step in the world, but if it's not lit right, it won't
matter. It's all about seeing the big picture.
"It's very important to me to work closely with the dance
arranger," she continues, "and help develop the arrangements
for my choreography. I learned this from watching Fred Astaire
and Ginger Rogers movies, where I discovered how the music went
hand in hand with the choreography, how every dance step was
motivated by a particular instrument or arrangement. So part
of what I do is help build the songs to match the staging. I
think of myself as a writer of dance: it's as tangible to me
as pages in a book."
She works out all the choreography before rehearsals begin,
creating on an assistant and the show's two dance captains. "But
when I get in front of the cast, the movement takes another form,"
she says. "I ultimately want the dancers to feel as if they've
made it all up, so we will try things together. I always have
a basis for them to fall back on, but I also feed off the actors.
So if someone turns another way, or does something that comes
out of his character, I just go with it."
Stroman looks for actors and dancers who are fearless,
who are willing to take risks. "At auditions, I give a combination
appropriate for that particular show," she says, "and
then I'll toss out emotions for them to play doing that same
combination. I'll tell them to do the combination aggressively
or flirtatiously, or as if they've had six margaritas, or as
if this is the last time they're ever going to get the chance
to dance. I want to see if they can look completely different
each time, and that they're not afraid to do it, not afraid to
make fools of themselves."
It was Stroman's own fearlessness that enabled her to
do Contact, which is not so much a musical as it is dance
theater. The show rose out of the ashes of Steel Pier
(1997), which had the shortest run of any Broadway musical with
which Stroman has been associated. (Even the very disappointing
Big, which opened a year earlier to dismissive reviews,
ran longer.) Although critics could muster up little enthusiasm
for the show itself -- which starred Karen Ziemba, the quintessential
Stroman dancer -- most were impressed with the choreography.
Among those who admired Stroman's work was André Bishop,
artistic director of Lincoln Center Theater, who called her and
said that if she had any idea she wanted to explore, he would
help her develop it.
She went to work with writer John Weidman on a story inspired
by a girl in a yellow dress she had noticed one night while out
swing dancing. "The girl would step forward and dance with
someone, and then disappear into the crowd," says Stroman.
"As I watched her, I thought to myself, 'She's going to
change some man's life tonight.That episode became the inspiration
for the eponymous Contact, the last of the three short
stories. "Even though the three stories look completely
different, they all revolve around people's ability or inability
to make contact," she says.
Stephanie Michels in "Swinging" Photo: Paul Kolnik
Deborah
Yates in "Contact" Photo: Paul Kolnik
The show does not have an orchestra or singing, and there
is a minimal amount of dialogue. The stories are told mostly
through dance, accompanied by an eclectic array of recordings.
"I started out with the third short story," says Stroman,
"and I wanted it to have the sound of a club, which means
CDs. But the main thing was that it was about a man who was about
to die, and his whole life is flashing before him. In that situation
I didn't want him to be thinking of a new Broadway score. I wanted
him to be thinking of songs that meant something in his life."
If the critical response to Contact was ecstatic, the
response to Stroman's giddy, witty direction and choreography
of The Producers was euphoric. She had originally signed
on as choreographer; the director was to be her husband, Mike
Ockrent, whom she met on Crazy for You. But the talented
Ockrent died much too young of leukemia in 1999, and Mel Brooks
asked Stroman if she would continue on as director as well as
choreographer. He could not have chosen a better collaborator:
her direction and choreography are seamless. Stroman matches
Brooksantic comedy and verbal dexterity with raucously funny
choreography, sight gags, and physical humor that let up just
long enough to allow the audience to catch its collective breath.
"When I begin working on a show, I have this image --
I know it sounds crazy -- of immersing myself in a big water
barrel, the kind that you saw at the beginning of the old TV
show 'Petticoat Junction,'" says Stroman. "I'm surrounded
by a sea of actors and designers and creative people. And I stay
in that water barrel until the show opens. Then I come up for
air and there's all this hoopla, as there was with The Producers,
and it's overwhelming." But only momentarily. Just until
she's back in the water barrel, embarking on a new project that
just might change someone's life.
Meg Howrey and the Company in "Do
you Move?" Photo: Paul Kolnik