A Different Drummer

It’s about a week before preview performances will begin, but David Henry Hwang is sitting in the dark in downtown’s Mark Taper Forum, scribbling yet another new line of dialogue on a yellow legal pad at a technical rehearsal for “Flower Drum Song”--the playwright’s radically new take on the 1958 Rodgers & Hammerstein musical that opens tonight at the Taper.

Hwang, 44, whose spare frame suggests lightning metabolism, bounds onto the stage, slipping a torn piece of paper into the hand of actor Tzi Ma. Ma is strutting around the stage like an enraged bantam rooster in the elaborate embroidered robes of the immigrant Wang, horrified to see his traditional Chinese Opera theater turned into the swingin’ Western-style night spot Club Chop Suey by the young generation. Without a word, Hwang returns to his seat.

Ma opens the folded paper, raises his eyebrows and nods, quickly setting the new line to memory--just one more thing to adjust to, along with the new costumes, and sound and lighting cues that are part of every tech rehearsal. No more of a challenge than the shining beads that on this day have decided to break free from the chorus dancers’ blue satin outfits, making for a slippery hazard on the stage.

Coming later in the scene is a scripted line contrasting life in America circa 1960 versus the traditions of the old country, spoken by glamorous movie star wannabe Linda Low (Sandra Allen): “This is the land of fast food, fast cars, and overnight sensations.” Today, Hwang changes the line for himself: “This is a land of fast food, fast cars, and ... fast rewrites ,” he tells the cast, with an apologetic grin.

It’s not unusual for a playwright to make 11th-hour script changes, but Hwang may be burning up a little more legal paper than most. This “Flower Drum Song” is not simply a revival of the original, but what the Tony-winning playwright (for “M. Butterfly”) calls a “revisical.” He’s not just rewriting a script, but musical theater history. And the stakes are high.

It has been 10 years since the Taper originated a book musical that went to Broadway--the successful “Jelly’s Last Jam.” Dramas that have made the Taper-to-Broadway leap include 1979’s “Children of a Lesser God” and 1992’s “Angels in America.” Producers hope that same rare magic will happen with the Taper’s first “revisical.”

Set in San Francisco’s Chinatown, the original musical delighted part of the Asian American community by putting the first almost-all-Asian cast on Broadway--and infuriated the rest by presenting Asian American life as imagined by a couple of white guys. Now, Hwang, a Chinese American and native Angeleno, is trying it again 43 years later, with a brand new book, new staging, new choreography, new orchestrations--new everything, except the original songs.

Based on the 1957 best-selling novel by C.Y. Lee, the story of Mei-Li, an innocent young refugee from Communist China, and her new life, and love, in Chinatown was transformed into a stage musical, then a Hollywood movie in 1961.

The Broadway show received mixed reviews when it opened in 1958. “It does not have the vitality of ‘South Pacific’ or ‘The King and I’--both of them musicals with a similar Oriental flavor,” said the New York Times. The New Yorker took aim at the accents and manners of immigrant characters who displayed “more than a smidgen of pidgin.” But the Broadway show was a hit, and stars Miyoshi Umeki and Pat Suzuki became the first Asian Americans to appear on the cover of Time.

“Flower Drum Song” and its surrounding controversy are burned into the memories of Chinese Americans, observed Hwang in an interview about a week into rehearsals. “It’s really part of the fabric of having grown up as an Asian American baby boomer,” he says. “It was something you either loved or hated or had ambivalent feelings about.

“It sort of cast a long shadow over our lives, because there weren’t very many images of Asian Americans in the media, and those that we saw tended to be foreign or evil,” he continues. “This one had some Asians that seemed like regular Americans. And it was goofy and nave and sentimental, but positive, I suppose, in the broadest sense of the word. I wanted to ... have a conversation with it,” Hwang adds, running a hand through his slightly spiked black hair as he gropes for the right word for his relationship with “Flower Drum.” “I wouldn’t want to see it completely lost, but on the other hand, it didn’t look like it was going to, or even should have, a big life in its previous incarnation.”

The playwright insists his changes are not about updating a circa 1960 show to 21st century standards of political correctness. He plays with dated Asian stereotypes, rather than eliminating them. But the new Mei-Li (Lea Salonga, Tony winner for “Miss Saigon”) is a spunky orphan instead of a demure maiden living under the thumb of her father. The antiquated theme of arranged marriage has been tossed out too. Political reality enters the picture: The first scene is set in Tiananmen Square, with a Maoist banner in the background.

The cast is entirely pan-Asian. “Eventually, I could see using color-blind casting, but at this point, I think it is still an employment issue,” Hwang says.

In the new “Flower Drum,” major characters have been eliminated or blended, and virtually none of the original libretto remains. Songs--including “A Hundred Million Miracles,” “Grant Avenue” and “I Enjoy Being a Girl”--have been rearranged in both chronology and significance, and are sometimes sung by different characters than in the original. Several songs have become production numbers, performed onstage at Club Chop Suey.

Only the name hasn’t been changed--and, Hwang hopes, the spirit. He calls the new “Flower Drum Song” a valentine to the original, a universal story of assimilation he hopes will be the Chinese American answer to “Fiddler on the Roof.”

“It’s the book Oscar Hammerstein would have written had he been Chinese American,” Hwang observed thoughtfully, before a group of Asian American community leaders at an August fund-raising luncheon. Then he grinned widely, and added: “You’ll find it’s almost a total rewrite.”

Enthusiasm From L.A.’s Asian American Community

Ten years ago, reviving, or even “revisical”-izing, “Flower Drum Song” would have been impossible. The commitment to politically correct theater was too strong, and feminists had little tolerance for “girls.” Hwang says he has not felt that pressure from today’s Asian Americans. “Frankly,” he says, “I expected a little more objection now than we seem be to running into.

“I know when I was a college student, there was a lot of objection to ‘Flower Drum Song,’ but I kind of think it was during a time when Asian Americans were just beginning to write about ourselves, and I think it was necessary for us to demonize the highly visible efforts of non-Asians to write about us.”

If the “Flower Drum” fund-raising luncheon was any indication, the local Asian American community was definitely post-PC. The crowd gathered at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, across the Music Center plaza from the Taper, seemed more than willing to trust Hwang’s vision.

Among the guests were a mix of Asian American actors including George Takei and Amy Hill, city officials including former city Councilman Mike Woo, arts and business leaders, and members of the Asian Pacific Friends of the Taper, also a sponsor of the show.

Cast members in attendance included silver-haired Alvin Ing, the only current cast member who played in the original touring company of “Flower Drum,” and Jodi Long, whose parents were headliners on the “chop suey circuit,” where white audiences flocked to see Asian entertainers at nightclubs like San Francisco’s Forbidden City and New York’s China Doll. Long’s father starred in several road company productions of “Flower Drum,” and in one of these, 8-year-old Jodi, now 43, played a child’s role.

Long watches in amusement as the crowd busily trades business cards before lunch. “That’s very Chinese,” she observes.

This production is garnering outside interest for its significance to Asian American theater history. Long’s family story and her two-generation connection with the show is being turned into a documentary by local producer Sally Nemeth, and Penguin is planning to reissue Lee’s novel next year.

Still, the Taper approached community relations with unusual care, organizing at least one panel discussion with actors and community members to ensure anyone who might be offended would be on board in time for opening night.

And in time to contribute. In fund-raising for “Flower Drum,” the Taper approached its usual slate of corporate and private donors.

But on this day, Gordon Davidson, artistic director of Center Theatre Group, which oversees the Taper and Ahmanson theaters, is giving Los Angeles’ Asian American community the hard sell. Sponsors include AT&T; and the city of Hong Kong. “This production speaks very specifically to this community,” he says to the crowd. Davidson not only wants production money, he wants them to start spreading good word-of-mouth to help sell tickets. “We could make this show a sellout before it opens--go do it.”

Also in attendance were Fritz Friedman, senior vice president of worldwide publicity for Columbia TriStar Home Entertainment and a Filipino American, and Philippine Consul General Edwin D. Bael and his wife, Beatrice--co-chairs with Friedman of the Taper’s Friends of “Flower Drum Song” Gala, which was held Thursday.

The Baels delight in the fact that two of the young romantic leads, Salonga and Jose Llana, who plays Ta, are of Filipino descent. Although the 1958 production drew fire for casting the Japanese Umeki as the Chinese Mei-Li, in 2001, pan-Asian casting seems acceptable to everyone. And, from a theatrical perspective, “it’s time L.A. gave New York a run for its money,” Edwin Bael offers.

Observes Friedman, who acknowledges with a wry laugh that he was on hand to represent the entire Asian American entertainment community: “This is a classic musical that has tremendous significance to the Asian and Asian American communities in the United States. A friend of mine says there are more extraterrestrials on TV than Asian Americans.”

While this crowd is solidly behind the new flowering of “Drum Song,” Friedman acknowledges that concerns about Asian stereotypes were raised at an earlier panel discussion.

“I know some people would disagree with me, but I enjoyed the movie--immigrants from China do speak with accents, and it would be ridiculous if they didn’t,” he says. “And in the movie, I also saw these hip Chinese Americans of the ‘50s and ‘60s; I saw Nancy Kwan, that sassy, sexy woman who sang ‘I Enjoy Being a Girl.’ I think David’s version is going to do even more to show the diversity of Asian Americans.”

It’s Hard to Enjoy Being a Girl in Heels

“Are you in excruciating pain?” asks director-choreographer Robert Longbottom at an August rehearsal in the annex across Temple Street from the Taper, “because I need to start seeing legs . I’d really like to start seeing you in high heels.”

A petite, unsmiling chorus dancer, rehearsing in athletic shoes because of a sore back, shakes her long black hair--no, not excruciating --and dutifully dons the feminine footwear required for “I Enjoy Being a Girl.”

High heels are not the only challenge for members of the “Flower Drum” chorus line. They’ve just finished learning how to flip the long silk sleeves of traditional Chinese gowns with some degree of historical accuracy. “ Up and over,” intones assistant choreographer Darlene Wilson. “Be sure there is a length of time before you reveal the hand; it was thought to be the most provocative part of the body.”

Those demure sleeves are soon to be yanked off bare shoulders in a striptease. The show’s dance numbers are the most visible example of how “Flower Drum” is being updated. The songs remain the same, but the movement and costumes are sexier than anything that ever turned up on the Broadway stage or in the movie. The skin-baring “Fan Tan Fanny” number shows off as much fanny as fan. To borrow lingo from the original script, these dames are some tomatoes.

“It’s a contemporary look to an old-fashioned musical,” Longbottom says. “And we are old-fashioned; the heart is still worn on the sleeve. I think the choreography today can be hipper and smarter, but still pay homage to the period.”

Costume designer Gregg Barnes relied on two influences: the ultra-heightened sexuality of Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie, and the Hollywood glamour of designer Lilli Ann. “The original production had a sweeter, Rodgers & Hammerstein feel to it--we wanted to make it nastier, bring a heightened archness to it,” Barnes says. “In the original story, the club played a minor role; this production really puts it in the forefront.

“Visually, the play has everything in it--the Peking Opera dynamic, immigrants, people in traditional costumes, the ‘60s Western aesthetic, the showgirl-stripper aesthetic, and a high-fashion finale wedding that has to cross all of those visual ideas--a sort of retro innocence, but with bridesmaids who are the strippers from the club,” Barnes continues.

Some of the dance pays homage to a much earlier period than the ‘60s. Chinese opera consultant Jamie H.J. Guan was brought on board to stage the Warrior Dance and to advise on traditional Peking Opera movement and costumes. For the Peking Opera robes, Barnes was able to call on Guan’s sister in China, who owns a clothing company that makes them. “It would cost you a fortune to do it here,” he says.

“It’s been a real challenge to make the costumes function the way they should, to support the dancer and the choreographer,” Barnes adds. “The reality of a musical is, they have five minutes to pull a costume on or off, but it has to look as though they spent two hours getting dressed. They have to look fragile but be made like iron.”

Taking a Chance on a Risky Venture

Besides being sensitive to possible image concerns of Asian Americans, Davidson has another reason to handle matters with care: Mounting a musical--any musical--is more expensive, and therefore more risky, than a straight play. It requires an average of six weeks of rehearsal rather than four, and to produce one of Broadway proportions can cost a staggering $7 million to $10 million.

Then, there’s the Revival Factor: “The rule of thumb,” Davidson says, “is, revivals--even the best of them--only last two seasons on Broadway, whereas the new ones, like ‘Phantom’ and ‘Les Miz,’ run forever and ever.

“‘Kiss Me, Kate,’ ‘Music Man,’ ‘Carousel’ were all very distinguished productions,” he adds, “but not big moneymakers.”

While Hwang may have come up with the idea for a new “Flower Drum,” it was the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization that brought his script to the attention of Davidson. “[Hwang] had already tried to get it mounted in New York as a first-class musical, but nobody wanted to take a chance on it,” Davidson says. “I thought, why not? It is a valid piece, and David has made it even more valid. And it speaks to our community here, even if it never goes anywhere else.”

Davidson originally envisioned the show for the 1,600-2,000-seat Ahmanson, rather than the 745-seat Taper--and set about raising the $7 million it would cost to mount it. Investors in Singapore expressed an interest, as did other potential backers, and “Flower Drum Song” was announced to open at the Ahmanson in April 2001, with an eventual eye on Broadway.

Development included a New York workshop production, and something that was new to Davidson: a focus group, held at a New Jersey research facility. Because of the staggering cost of producing a Broadway musical, producers are turning to a technique more common to TV--audience research.

“It was something that is like scratching glass for me, but our [investment] partners wanted to do it,” Davidson says. “The group was all women, because women are the primary buyers of theater tickets. I listened to these people; almost everybody buys tickets because a friend has told them to, not because of reviews.

“Finally, we got to ‘Flower Drum Song.’ Most of them drew a blank. Some of them said: ‘Wasn’t it a movie?’ They didn’t know what to make of the title. So we thought, maybe we should give it a new title, ‘A Hundred Million Miracles’; ‘San Francisco, USA.’ But in the end, it was ‘Flower Drum Song.’ It has a pedigree, even if people aren’t quite sure what it is.”

Even with the pedigree, however, financing from Singapore fell through, and Davidson was forced to cancel “Flower Drum,” replacing it with Harold Prince’s showcase for new musical theater talent, “3hree.” But Davidson had another idea: produce the show on a smaller scale at the Taper. He found the creative team enthusiastic about the proposition, among them, Broadway veterans Longbottom, Tony Award-winning set designer Robin Wagner and music director David Chase, another Tony winner.

Instead of the usual 18 musicians in the pit, “Flower Drum” will have six, on a raised platform above the stage. And because the Taper has a thrust stage rather than a proscenium, as well as less backstage area, designers have had to make creative use of space.

This hasn’t fazed Wagner. “A thrust stage lends itself to helping the show,” he says. “It’s really a love story, a very intimate story. It can’t be overloaded with scenery. A lot of Asian theater is done on an open platform; there are conventions at work here that help us in a way.” And because the story is re-imagined as a backstage romance, he adds, there’s nothing wrong with sets being changed in full view of the audience.

Davidson refuses to reveal the budget for the pared-down “Flower Drum Song” but admitted: “We can only get so far with this. I make no apologies for it, but given the limits of time, space, the thrust stage, it’s going to be what it is.”

At the first day of rehearsal--ushered in with a gong, hardly a tradition at the Taper--Davidson assembles the cast and crew. “We’re as interested in process as we are in the final result,” he tells them.

Asian American Actors Sitting Around Talking

Llana, 25 (Ta); Salonga, 30 (Mei-Li) and Ing (Chin): “I’m the oldest member of the cast.”

Llana: I think the script is much, much better than the original one. That was somewhat saccharine and innocuous. This has much more meaning for me, and it does speak about the conflicts we have in our Pacific Asian cultures.

I always maintained that there was a balance, even in the original. There was only one song I found offensive--”Chop Suey.” You spend half the movie caring about these characters, seeing how intelligent and rich they are, then you get a big group of people at a party seeing how dumb they are. I just didn’t appreciate it. It’s a spoof [in the Hwang version]; it’s us Asians saying: “You silly Americans think we’re dumb, but we’re not”--it’s totally turned 180 [degrees].

Especially in the last 10 years on Broadway, with [the revival of] “The King and I” and “Miss Saigon,” it gave Asian American performers the license to say: “I’m going to be a performer, and I’m going to work at it.” So when “Flower Drum Song” comes along, they can say, “Here I am--can I be in your show?”

Ing: There were only white people performing when I grew up. When I got to be a performer, and I went to audition for “King and I,” do you know how many times I was refused? They would pick a blond, blue-eyed guy. These roles were done by non-Asians. And they perpetuated that stereotype. So that’s what I had to fight.

Young people now have a much, much easier time. I’ve had this kind of discrimination all of my life. When you are young, you want down deep to have the opportunities that those white folk have, whether you admit it or not. In essence, when you are young, you really want to be white, to get those opportunities. So there is a very strong fight within you, until you learn to accept yourself.

Salonga: I know what that feels like. I won’t even name the production, but one day my agent called me and said, “Oh, do you want to audition for this part?” I had left “Miss Saigon,” and I said, sure. And he called me back 10 minutes later and said, “They don’t want you because you’re Asian.” And then I got asked to do “Les Miz” and I said dang, yeah, totally, I have to do it to prove a point--to prove that OK, I may not be white and it’s an all-white show, but I will be able to sing the part, and look the part, and do it well. I was able to pull it off, and there has been more colorblind casting since I did it.

If you are Filipino, you are everything. It’s been a melting pot for so long, it’s a national identity more than a racial one. Coming here, there seems to be segregation, which I don’t understand, because I didn’t grow up thinking that I had to be part of a particular group. It’s an alien concept.

Llana: I’ve been very lucky, I have not felt that much in my very short time in New York; I have worked with directors who have cast me in roles that were never intended for Asian Americans. More new young writers are coming into the mix, who grew up writing for the existing pool of talent of racial diversity. [Reporters] always ask: “Was it an Asian role? How do you feel about interracial casting?”--and it’s something that I’m very ready to talk about, because I’ll be living that the rest of my career.

Salonga: All of us will.

Ing: You know, when I first moved here, there was a little Chinatown, and the food wasn’t very good. But now so many immigrants have come here, I find the Chinese restaurants here are just as good as in New York.

Salonga: Where?

Ing: Not in Chinatown. You have to go to Alhambra, to Monterey Park.

Salonga: When you go to Daly City, there is a very large population of Filipinos there. You might as well be in the Philippines.

Llana: Being a New Yorker coming to the West Coast, the first thing I noticed was there are so many more Asian Americans here; the population is so representative of what we are trying to say in the piece. Going to so many blank -towns--K-town, J-town, Chinatown, or I guess Daly City is P-town. It’s just amazing to see all these communities that are sort of microscopically into themselves, but at the same time part of the whole L.A. community.

Rodgers & Hammerstein Fans Have Their Say

So far, the Asian American community seems to be letting “Flower Drum” flower without interference. The fierce Rodgers & Hammerstein community, however, is something else entirely.

“That David Henry Hwang had the audacity to approach the Rodgers & Hammerstein estate and request permission to rewrite [‘Flower Drum Song’] is overshadowed only by the estate’s puzzling willingness to do so,” reads an indignant letter in the Aug. 21 San Francisco Chronicle.

“There is always a core of people on the fringes who are not going to be happy with this,” Hwang says, not sounding particularly worried. “There is a core of R&H; fans that are going to be offended by the idea of rewriting it at all, and a core of Asian Americans that remain offended by the musical and therefore the idea of doing it again.”

One person who isn’t offended is Ted Chapin, president and executive director of the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization. Hwang broached the subject to him about five years ago.

Chapin notes that Rodgers & Hammerstein had no aspirations to groundbreaking entertainment when they concocted “Flower Drum.” After two major musical flops--1953’s “Me and Juliet” and 1955’s “Pipe Dream”--they were ready to sell some tickets with a lightweight commercial musical. That’s part of the reason “Flower Drum” lends itself to “revisical”-ization: great songs, mediocre book.

“It’s a bold and audacious thing to do, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for ‘Oklahoma!”’ observes Chapin, who has witnessed such off-kilter R&H; reincarnations as “South Pacific” set in a rehab ward and an “Oklahoma!” featuring a flying Aunt Eller. “But Oscar Hammerstein referred to ‘Flower Drum Song’ as their ‘lucky hit’--unlike the rest of the canon, it didn’t live on with the same kind of force as some of their other musicals.”

As dictated by Richard Rodgers’ will, R&H; Organization leaders must “do what they feel he would have agreed to” with regard to new productions. In this case, Chapin believes giving Hwang carte blanche--including permission to borrow a song from “Pipe Dream”--is what Rodgers would have done.

“Normally, if somebody wants to cut or change something, I can say: ‘The answer is no, and don’t ask me anymore,”’ Chapin says. “That wasn’t appropriate in this instance. We went into it understanding that if we were going to go ahead with this experiment, we had to be open to it.”

Hwang rewrote the book; Chase supplied new orchestrations and musical arrangements. He too approached the task with composer Rodgers’ last will and testament in mind. “It was always my goal to get inside the composer’s head,” Chase says. “I think each song has an essential DNA. I am doing what I can to honor the original intent of the song, to make it work in a different context.

“Most of my career in New York has been tampering,” adds Chase, who served as music director for the revival of “Damn Yankees” and dance arranger for the revival of “Kiss Me, Kate.” “There’s always going to be a faction of people that want to believe the original thing was perfect and beyond reproach. But the truth is, anyone who’s involved in the process realizes that decisions get made for all sorts of reasons.”

Fun-Loving Chinese Novelist, 85, Seeks Wife

“If you print my age, I’ll never get married,” protests author C.Y. Lee. Widowed for three years, the trim octogenarian is looking for an American bride between 55 and 65--young enough to take care of herself, but old enough not to run screaming at the idea of a September-December romance.

In a conversation that begins at his Alhambra condo complex and ends in a nearby Chinese seafood house with a “B” in the window, Lee marvels at the fact that his 44-year-old novel is getting a new life. “I wrote it when I was a country bumpkin,” says Lee--who was hardly a bumpkin but a graduate of Yale Drama School when he penned the 1957 novel.

Despite the pedigree, it was easy for Lee to see himself as a literary washout in the period between Yale and “Flower Drum Song.” A New York agent had told him there was no market for the plays about China he’d been writing at Yale, and suggested that Lee try fiction.

Lee moved across the country to a small room above a Filipino restaurant in San Francisco’s Chinatown, where he took a day job at Chinese World, a newspaper that in those days catered to an elderly Cantonese audience. “We called it the ‘Big Word Paper’ because the print was so large,” Lee says. In his spare time, he wrote fiction.

Lee knew he would soon have to return to China because his student visa had run out, but a friend advised Lee to wait until he got deported, so the government would have to pay for the trip.

“One day I got a phone call, and right away I thought it was immigration--the voice, the tone, was rough,” Lee reminisces. “I said ‘Officer, I’m packed, deport me any time.’ The voice said: ‘I’m calling from Writer’s Digest--you just won first prize in our short-short story competition. We’re sending you $1,500.” Overjoyed, Lee rushed the check and his congratulatory letter to the immigration office to justify applying for an extension.

The extension bought Lee time to write his first novel, “The Flower Drum Song.” He sent the manuscript to several publishers who rejected it as “too quaint and episodic.” The book also made its way to Farrar, Straus & Cudahy--or, more accurately, to one of the freelance readers hired to screen first novels for the publisher.

“My novel landed in the sickbed of an 80-year-old man making a few dollars screening books,” Lee says. “He read the novel, but he was so sick that he didn’t have the energy to write a critique. He just wrote two words: ‘Read this.’ And then he died. I think that was my turning point in life.”

Hwang calls Lee “a sort of beneficent angel” over the production, and although Hwang’s based his book more on the aggressively cheerful Broadway and movie versions of the story than on Lee’s bittersweet novel, he says he would not have gone ahead without Lee’s blessing. He’s got it--and Lee is taking a hands-off approach. “I might as well keep quiet and let him surprise me,” Lee says.

In one way, this “revisical” is all about taking the show back to Broadway.

From another perspective, however, it’s about something else entirely. “It’s about proving to the world we can do this,” Hwang told the cast and crew, the urgency evident in his voice, on the first day of rehearsal. “Someday, it might mean something to say: ‘I was in this original production of ‘Flower Drum Song.’ ” *

“Flower Drum Song,” Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown. Oct. 14-Dec. 2. $40-$50. (213) 628-2772.