Lithgow and Orchestra Share Passion for Music

John Lithgow’s new family concert extravaganza, “Farkle and Friends,” at UCLA’s Royce Hall on Sunday, was anything but a walk-through. It was more like a hop-, skip-, jump-, bounce- and dance-through as the “3rd Rock From the Sun” star romped onstage in his newest persona: children’s entertainer.

Hugely likable, bantering comfortably with the 1,500-plus audience of young children and their adult companions, Lithgow capered through almost 90 minutes of swing, original and oldie novelty tunes from his first children’s CD--last year’s “Singin’ in the Bathtub”--and his brand-new set piece crafted around his recently published children’s book, “The Remarkable Farkle McBride,” a guide to orchestral instruments that he took to Carnegie Hall in February.

Presented with a full symphony orchestra conducted by Bill Elliott, who composed the “Farkle” accompaniment, along with Elliott’s swing vocal quartet, Bill’s Lucky Stars; Jai Winding at the piano; and a gaggle of kids in the “Rubber Duckie Chorus,” the program was fast-paced, effervescent and loaded with audience participation. Lithgow sang, accompanied himself on the guitar and stood at an easel using markers and spray paint to make comical sketches complementing “At the Codfish Ball,” “Swinging on a Star,” Flanders and Swann’s “The Hippopotamus Song” and other tunes.

Wearing wacky formal attire accessorized with flowered bow tie and cummerbund, red shoes and yellow socks, Lithgow’s costume changes consisted of a series of hats and one elaborate sight gag: his head above a puppet toddler’s romper-clad body, as he held two more toddler puppets with Lithgow faces, for his rendition of the saucy 1937 song “Triplets.”

All of Lithgow’s happy energy and infectious humor, however, couldn’t fix the same problem that plagued his first Royce Hall concert, “Singin’ in the Bathtub,” last November: faulty sound design and miking. With the full-scale orchestra taking up most of the stage and leaving minimal room for Lithgow and the other singers, blasting decibel levels overwhelmed Lithgow’s vocals during livelier numbers. Sometimes, Lithgow’s miking gave his solos a loud echoing quality, reminiscent of airport PA systems.

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During his “Farkle” reading, Lithgow’s mike began dying altogether and he had to be handed a replacement. That, however, was the only flaw in what turned out to be the show’s highlight.

Lithgow’s book in verse is about a child prodigy who learns to play every instrument in the orchestra, one section at a time, tires of them and then finds his true passion is to be a conductor.

Elliott’s sprightly, melodic pops piece, with hints of Gershwin and Sousa, is a perfect setting for the instructive tale. As Lithgow read the book, individual string, wind, brass and percussion artists became Farkle by the simple expedient of slipping on a red baseball cap before standing to demonstrate their instruments; then conductor Elliott donned the cap, bringing the whole orchestra together in a rousing finale.

Lithgow did hit one discordant note: his mid-show announcement that his CDs, the book and sketches would be on sale after the show. This isn’t an itinerant kids’ artist struggling to make a buck, after all. If the proceeds were going to charity, he neglected to say so.

Nevertheless, Lithgow’s wholehearted, high-energy performance clearly reflected his sincere passion for sharing with children his love of words, music and laughter.