Director Note: The Sound of Music

The Sound of Music” is a profound (and entertaining) paean to those who refuse to be silent in the face of rising authoritarianism and to those who yearn and fight for freedom. There were real Nazis in the 1930s and 1940s, and there are real Nazis today. We need stories out in the world that give voice to these very struggles of good against evil and the complicated ways the “onlooker” who does not act can make possible evil.  

In a world where everyone always does the right thing, there would be no drama. Again and again in the theater, from the time of the Greek dramatists, we see the clash of good and evil, and we experience a roller coaster of emotions. When the “good guys” cling to their convictions, no matter what it costs them, we cheer. When their heroic choices cost them dearly, we grieve and/or rage. These choices require an antagonist. A despicable enemy is the engine that makes so many dramas run. We go to the theater to remind ourselves what humanity is capable of, for better and for worse. As a director, I want to tell stories that will inspire people to be their best selves in times of crisis. 

In the case of The Sound of Music, the source of crisis is perhaps the greatest evil humanity has ever known: the Nazi regime. When the depth of the atrocities of the Holocaust came to light, the world cried out, “Never again!” Less than a century later, astonishingly, we are hearing a small but vocal minority deny that it even happened. I believe works like The Sound of Music, which give a small window into a few of the terrible choices forced by the Nazi regime, are an important safeguard against the erasure of history. Rodgers and Hammerstein, two Jewish artists from New York City, had a long string of successes to their name, and could have written about anything in 1959. Instead they chose to tell the true story of an otherwise by-the-book military man, Captain von Trapp, who risks everything rather than fall into line with the Nazis. 

One of the things I find particularly interesting about The Sound of Music is that it doesn’t depict those who personally carried out the atrocities, but instead spends time with the more insidious version of evil—the evil of “going along” or “not speaking out.” The character of Max, who is merely annoying to begin, becomes downright despicable by the second act. I wanted to include the song “There’s No Way to Stop It,” which was left out of the film, as a way of underlining who Max and Elsa the Countess really are. The song also clarifies why Captain von Trapp breaks off his engagement with Elsa; while his growing attraction for Maria is a factor, Elsa’s political position is what finally pushes him away from her. It can be difficult to identify with some of the larger-than-life heroes and villains we see on the stage. The Sound of Music shows us that heroic (and horrific) choices happen on a domestic level, too. 

The 1938 annexation of Austria by the Nazi Germans known as the Anschluss is the pivotal moment in our story. I often think how important it is to reflect on the Nazis’ connection to art. Hitler believed in the power of art as demonstrated by his commitment to keeping all the arts alive during his regime. He used film, classical music, Wagner, visual arts, and architecture to create a pronounced language for the Third Reich.  

When the Nazis arrive toward the end of the second act in our production, two banners with swastikas unfurl on the stage, and audiences always gasp in horror. That sense of horror is exactly what we should all feel when remembering the evil that once took root and threatened to spread across the globe. I think it’s important that it happens late in the show, once the story’s perspective on good and evil has been made clear. My team and I recognize that the swastika is a potent symbol, so we handled it with great care: our “Nazis” removed their armbands for the curtain call to avoid any confusion about what was being applauded at the end of the show. 

This is an interesting and exciting time to be working in an art form that relies on works that are decades—even centuries—old. In some cases, our perspectives on heroes and villains have evolved. For instance, producing an older work based in the Crusades is usually complicated. But I think the case of The Sound of Music is straightforward. Rodgers and Hammerstein framed the Nazis as villains, and that’s a framing that remains true, relevant, and important. Never forget. Never again.