Monday, December 29, 2025
LEITER LOOKS AT BOOKS: John Doyle's OPENING DOORS: REIMAGINING THE AMERICAN MUSICAL
Tuesday, December 23, 2025
2025: WHAT I DID THIS YEAR
By
Sam Leiter
As Stephen Sondheim’s great song from Follies goes, "I’m
Still Here,” but that tenuous grasp on existence was tested several times this
year, my 85th. My general health remains reasonably sound, despite
the usual cardiac and urological concerns (not to mention dental!) that accompany advanced age for men.
On the other hand, a couple of falls affecting, first, my wrist, and then my ribs,
have reminded me that you can’t take anything for granted when you’re growing
old. Make sure you’re well stocked with Ibuprofen the next time your ribs meet
the ground when you misstep off a curb.
I was still here in 2025, however, to continue doing what I love
most, reading books, going to the theatre, and writing about both, albeit at an
inevitably declining pace. Of the
limited number of shows I attended as a voting member of the Drama Desk Awards,
I reviewed about 75%, clocking in at only 59 reviews for the year, writing mainly
for Theater Life, followed by Theater Pizzazz, with a last-minute pair for
TheaterScene.net. I fell off somewhat in book reviews as well, doing just 14
for my Leiter Looks at Books column on Theater Pizzazz, in addition to a long
one about the translation of an epic Japanese play for an academic publication,
the impressive Impressions: The Journal
of the Japanese Art Society of America.
Pushing the output
down was not only my advancing age, but the need for my wife and me to emotionally
and otherwise support our son, Justin, whose wife, Nancy, after years of
struggle, had, last year, gone on hospice care for dementia at home in Hackensack,
NJ. This meant spending nearly every weekend in New Jersey, driving there from
Howard Beach on Fridays and returning on Mondays. On the way home we’d usually
detour to visit our great-grandkids, Brooklyn and Skylar, now 4 ½ and 1 ½ respectively,
either at their home in Oceanside, or at my daughter’s, their nana, in Baldwin.
With very few exceptions, I was able to see shows only from Tuesday through Thursday.
Tragically, on
Tuesday, December 16, my daughter-in-law, the beautiful Nancy Lee Leiter,
passed away, only 60 years old, leaving behind a loving husband whose grief
could shake mountains. Marcia and I will continue spending as much time with him
as possible as he comes to terms with his (and the family’s) enormous loss. His
care for Nancy was beyond belief in its devotion, compassion, and concern, reflecting
how their 37 years together before and after marriage bound them together, as
when trees growing alongside one another gradually intertwine so to become inseparable.
My other recent writing interests, as many of you know, have been focused, not on Japanese theatre, but on the history of theatre in Brooklyn, the subject of a book I published early in 2024. That work covered the story through the last day of 1897, ending when the independent city of Brooklyn—American’s fourth largest—was consolidated into Greater New York on January 1, becoming one of five boroughs. Eventually, I began telling the story of what happened afterward in several blogs that eventually became one called Theatre in Brooklyn from 1898: An Illustrated Chronology. It gradually developed into a month-by-month report on old-time Brooklyn theatre; it has thus far covered everything through mid-1906.
I tried to interest a couple of Brooklyn outlets run by Schneps Media, which often post stories about Brooklyn history, about adapting some of these entries as a regular column; one editor said she'd get back to me in a week; never happened. The other simply ignored me. When I complete all of 1908, I plan to develop it into a book called Annals of the Brooklyn Stage: The Golden Decade (1898-1908). If I live that long.
Unfortunately,
another book I wrote, about the last four months of Brooklyn theatre before
consolidation, as it might have been experienced daily by an actual theatergoer
of 1897, has struggled all year to find a publisher. Its working title is Stagestruck in Brooklyn: Curtain Calls for a
Great Theatre City (as described by Gabriel Harrison). The unusual concept of history being told in “You Are There” fashion
by a “fictional” narrator, even if the details are historically accurate, seems
to be its big stumbling block. If it’s rejected again, I may consider self-publishing.
One unexpected
offshoot of all this Brooklyn research was the discovery of material related to
the borough’s involvement in 1904 and earlier in Wagner’s “sacred” opera, Parsifal, especially the production of the work as a straight play by a local
stock company with a top price policy of 50 cents. This story, to my surprise,
turned out to be of great fascination to the world of zealous Wagner fans and
specialists, and I was asked to develop it into an article for the prestigious
British publication, the Wagner
Journal. It will soon be published
under the title: “Brooklyn and the Great Parsifal Craze of 1904: Or,
How a 50-Cent Stock Company Turned Wagner’s Music Drama into a Drama with
Music.”
Another Brooklyn
benefit was an invitation from the Society of Old Brooklynites to give a talk about
the borough’s 19th-century theatres at Borough Hall in June. But I didn’t
ignore Japanese theatre entirely. In addition to the book review I wrote for Impressions, and a Yukio Mishima play (Kinkakuji) I reviewed at the Japan Society, I was commissioned
to write an essay to be used for promotion of the new Japanese film, Kokuho (National Treasure), which is based in the world of kabuki and will be Japan’s entry in this year’s Academy Awards competition. I also
was invited to give a guest lecture on “The Onnagata in Kabuki” at the
Brooklyn Museum in January.
As for the family, my
wife of 63 years, Marcia, despite some health issues, still projects a powerful
mater familias presence, which everyone in the family
respects. Although disillusioned with the theatre, she did see a couple of
shows with me this year. My daughter, Bambi, a retired schoolteacher, keeps busy
as a grandmother, a businesswoman selling vintage clothing online, and a competitive
pickleball player. My older granddaughter, Briar, mother of Brooklyn and
Skylar, returned from maternity leave in September to teaching high school English
in East Rockaway. Her sister, Paisley, received her license as a mental health therapist,
which she has been practicing for several years, and has been hired for a
prestigious new job in the field. Justin continues working as a product
designer for a home goods company that allows him to work from home, which was
of incredible value during Nancy’s illness.
Throughout the
year, I appreciated immeasurably the phone companionship of my dear friend,
Larry Loonin, with whom I chatted five or six times a week, and from whom I
often was enlightened—when we agreed—about our current political maelstrom.
Then there were the regular get-togethers with my wonderful theatre plus-ones, Tom Bullard, Elyse Orecchio, Mike Cesarano, Rory Schwartz, John K. Gillespie, Richard Fuhrman,
Mimi Turque, and Penny Bergman (when she wasn’t in Shangri-la or somewhere
similar). I enjoyed the light bantering and sharing of theatrical and other views
on social media with critics Joe Clarke, David Barbour, Brian Lipton, Ron Fassler,
David Sheward, Mark Rifkin, Raven Snook, and others, from whose commentary I
always learned something. And it was a pleasure to spend some time with Carol
Fisher Sorgenfrei, visiting from California, Dr. Jonathan Tuman, visiting from Florida, and my New Jersey cousins, Carole
and Cliff Fishman.
I thank you for your
friendship and support in 2025, and look forward to happiness, good health, and
success for you all in 2026. Just be sure to vote blue in November!
Sunday, December 7, 2025
LEITER LOOKS AT BOOKS: Barbara Wallace Grossman's A SPECTACLE OF SUFFERING: CLARA MORRIS ON THE AMERICAN STAGE
For my review of Barbara Wallace Grossman's A SPECTACLE OF SUFFERING: CLARA MORRIS ON THE AMERICAN STAGE
Thursday, December 4, 2025
Sunday, November 23, 2025
Thursday, November 20, 2025
Wednesday, November 19, 2025
Tuesday, November 18, 2025
Monday, November 17, 2025
Wednesday, November 12, 2025
Wednesday, November 5, 2025
Wednesday, October 22, 2025
Thursday, October 16, 2025
Wednesday, October 15, 2025
LEITER LOOKS AT BOOKS: "CAREFULLY TAUGHT: AMERICAN HISTORY THROUGH BROADWAY MUSICALS"
For my review of Cary Ginell's CAREFULLY TAUGHT: AMERICAN HISTORY THROUGH BROADWAY MUSICALS please click on THEATER PIZZAZZ.
Thursday, October 9, 2025
Thursday, October 2, 2025
Tuesday, September 30, 2025
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Sunday, September 21, 2025
Saturday, September 20, 2025
Thursday, September 18, 2025
Sunday, September 14, 2025
Sunday, August 31, 2025
Saturday, August 30, 2025
LEITER LOOKS AT BOOKS: Garrett Eisler's BEN HECHT'S THEATRE OF JEWISH PROTEST
For my review of Garrett Eisler's BEN HECHT'S THEATRE OF JEWISH PROTEST please click on THEATER PIZZAZZ.
Wednesday, August 27, 2025
GHOST LIGHTS ON FULTON: A WALK THROUGH BROOKLYN'S LOST THEATRES
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| MAJESTIC THEATRE |
Last night, a delicious late summer evening, I emerged from
the Lafayette Avenue Station of the C line on Fulton Street to visit a play
called Well, I’ll Let You Go, a two-minute walk away at the Irondale
Center, at 85 S. Oxford Street, a block off Fulton Street. Although the play
was very well received by many, I didn’t share their enthusiasm. However, I still considered
the experience exciting, as I do whenever I visit this part of Brooklyn’s Fort
Greene neighborhood, so redolent of the borough’s old-time history.
Irondale is located in the historic, socially progressive,
Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church, a Romanesque Revival landmark built between
1860-1862, early in the Civil War, where its advocacy as a “Temple of Abolition”
was marked by visits from Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, and Sojourner
Truth. A walk up its creaky steps into the large Irondale Space, its high, weathered
walls almost as distressed as those at the nearby BAM Harvey—where the look is
deliberate—is a step into Brooklyn’s storied past.
But what gets me is its proximity to a nearby, vanished
world of theatrical activity that now survives only in miniature to what was
there at the turn of the 20th century. Let’s go back to 1905, for example,
when Fulton Street—especially the part a bit further west across Flatbush
Avenue—was called the “Rialto,” in imitation of the term used in Manhattan for the
Broadway area where its main theatres and restaurants were located.
A nice little stroll will allow us to see, briefly. what theatres
were close by on Brooklyn’s Rialto 120 years ago. Remember, these were theatres
with live performers, not movies, which still had no dedicated venues of their
own (but soon would). Reaching the corner of Fulton, we first have to turn east
(left) and walk about 10 blocks to the intersection of Grand to find ourselves where
Keeney’s Fulton Street Theatre once stood. A modestly sized vaudeville house long known as the
Criterion (1885-1937), it had a history of legitimate theatre, both amateur
and professional, before turning to vaudeville.
From there, we turn around, walk back in the direction of
Flatbush Avenue, pass S. Oxford Street, and come to the Majestic Theatre, a
legitimate playhouse built in 1904, and still standing between Ashland Place
and Rockwell Place in the guise of the BAM Harvey Theatre. The bones of its
structure remain, although deliberately made to look run down as per a Parisian
theatre occupied at the time of its renovation by late director Peter Brook,
who opened it in 1987 with his magnificent production of The Mahabhata.
Diagonally across the street on Rockwell would have been the Orpheum (1900-1953),
a grand vaudeville house that ended its half-century of life as a major movie
theatre.
Today, this junction reminds us of the old Brooklyn Rialto,
with the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the Polonsky Shakespeare Center, and the BAM
Harvey—all of later creation—forming a theatrical hub within only a block or two
between them. (The original Brooklyn Academy of Music, which burned down in 1903, was on Montague near Court.)
Continuing down Fulton brings us to Flatbush, which we
cross to visit where Brooklyn’s highest-priced theatre, Col. Sinn’s Montauk (1895-1940),
or simply the Montauk, stood. That, though, was before Flatbush Avenue Extension was built, widening
the street for access to and from the new Manhattan Bridge. Plans to demolish
the Montauk had been in the air for years, and, in 1905, what was called the
New Montauk was opened to enormous praise in September. However, in a major
feat of engineering, the old Montauk was jacked up and moved across Flatbush in
1907, giving Brooklyn two Montauks! Then,
the old Montauk changed its name to the Imperial Theatre (Manhattan already had
one of its own), and it had other names as well over the years before being
demolished.
Moving along, we step off Fulton for a block or so to stand
before the site of the then under-construction New Montauk, at Hanover and Livingston,
before returning to Fulton, going west until we get to Fulton and Elm. This is a
one-block street ending at Livingston; in its middle stood the Grand Opera
House (1898-1920), a mid-priced legit theatre. Returning the half-block to Fulton,
we go left, past the famed Abraham and Straus Department Store, in the
direction of Borough Hall, stopping to pay homage to the location of the intimate
Bijou (1893-1934) at Bridges Street, a bijou of a theatre where the Spooner
Stock Company, starring sisters Edna May and Cecil held court in 1905.
We then turn right for a block at Fulton and Jay Street to
Willoughby, where the Star Theatre (1890-1947) had its notorious career as a
burlesque house, being shut down when its girly-girly shows went too far; it was also popular for its vaudeville shows and Italian movies. A block further eastward
takes us to Pearl and Willoughby, where Watson’s Cozy Corner (1903-1922), a vaudeville
theatre, stood before becoming the Nassau Theatre (in 1905, in fact) and other names. Then a few
more steps bring us to Fulton again where we pay our respects to the venerable
Park Theatre (1863-1908), across from Borough Hall; it was Brooklyn’s first permanent
theatre dedicated to legitimate theatre, achieving renown under the leadership
of Col. William E. Sinn.
Not on Fulton but only a brief distance away northward along
Cadman Plaza, which didn’t exist in 1905, we end our journey at the Columbia
Theatre (1892-1919), on Washington Street and Tillary. Soon to be renamed the
Alcazar Theatre, it later resumed its original name. It had a varied career,
mainly as a legitimate theatre, including stints as a high-priced venue, a
stock company, and a musical stock company.
This jaunt, be reminded, covers only theatres located in the
“downtown” section of Brooklyn’s Western District! In 1905, Brooklyn’s Eastern
District (or Williamsburg), Greenpoint, and East New York, where the population
was heavily working class and immigrant, there were the Gayety, the Novelty, Phillips’s
Lyceum, the Broadway, Payton’s Lee Avenue Theatre, the Unique Theatre, the Garden
Theatre, and the temporarily shuttered Amphion, each with a story to tell.
Brooklyn in 1905 was rippling with theatrical muscle,
although the legitimate was gradually being swallowed by vaudeville and
burlesque, and the movies were just about ready to pounce. Next time you’re on
Fulton Street in Fort Greene, imagine you’re decked out in 1905 finery, women
in big hats and long, flouncy dresses, mustachioed gents in high collars and hats, strolling along what once was Brooklyn’s Rialto, even before the subway
was around to take you there. Maybe you'll even see ghost lights flickering on the cobblestone streets.
For more on Brooklyn theatre history, see my blog: BROOKLYN THEATRE FROM 1898: AN ILLUSTRATED CHRONOLOGY.




























