September 1958: West Side Story begins its second year at the Winter Garden Theater. At the same time, I begin my Junior year in High School. I am in an English journalism class, and shortly after the beginning of the term, we receive an assignment: a journalism folder with four kinds of articles, one of which is an interview. Why not interview Larry Kert, I think? I have already seen West Side Story three times, listened to the recording countless times, and have spent many hours daydreaming about it and playing the show back in my mind. In mid-October I write Larry a very polite letter requesting an interview, telling him of my admiration for his work, and my passion for WSS. I enclose a self-addressed postcard to make it easier for him to respond. A few weeks pass, November begins; I hear nothing. I begin to think that he is not interested, doesn't have the time, etc. Then, on a Tuesday in mid-November I go to the mailbox---the postcard seems to drop right out at me. In it, Larry writes the following: "Dear Bob, if this Saturday November 15 is convenient for you, it's all right with me. I have two shows Saturday, so if you could make it at 12:45 P.M., I would appreciate it. Looking forward to meeting you. Best, Larry Kert."
Saturday, the day arrives. I arrive at the stage door of the Winter Garden. Larry is standing there, while Grover Dale is signing some autographs. Grover Dale is wearing a suit, I remember; this seems very incongruous to me with my vision of him in his Jet outfit. I introduce myself, Larry says hello, and also points to a young man behind me. He is a student writer from Brooklyn College, and he will also participate in the interview. One look and a
handshake with this guy tells me that unlike myself, he is not a West Side Story "freak”, rather just a reporter doing his job. (In retrospect, I think his presence made things easier, but of course then I was a little peeved.) Larry motions us to follow him and we enter the stage door, climb up a dark and narrow stairway, either one or one and a half flights, to his dressing room. It is very long and narrow; I don't think I have ever been in a room quite like it. Larry sits down facing us, and the interview begins.
Larry tells us that, like Carol Lawrence, he has a "run of the play" contract, which means he is committed to the play until it closes. He mentions that he has started taking an acting class with "Sandy" (Sanford) Meisner, and that he is very excited by that. The other gentleman mentions the young cast, but Larry tells us that there are
three Jets over thirty. Then Larry turns on the intercom by his desk. Into the dressing room comes the sound of a piano playing the opening dance scene of the play, also sounds of dancers moving. Larry explains to us that this
is a rehearsal for Eliot Feld, who on Monday will replace David Winters as Baby John. Larry points out that Feld is just sixteen, which will make him the youngest dancer in the show (a few of the Shark girls, Larry tells us, were also sixteen or seventeen). We talk a little more about cast changes: Hank Brunjes is now playing Riff, but he will soon be replaced by a man named Tom Ayre. Larry tells us that this past Thursday he had a great conversation with Mickey Calin, the original Riff, who had called him from Utah where he was making a movie.
The talk turns to other singers. Larry mentions a few names of singers that he likes, says that he thinks Nat King Cole is great, but his favorite singer, bar none, is Joe Williams, a jazz singer of that age. "I just love listening to him sing," says Larry.
Finally I get to ask that most obvious of questions: "How did you get the role?"
"Originally they saw Tony as a six-foot-three husky blonde guy of Polish descent, and they looked all over for someone like that. When they couldn't find anyone, they began to think of another type. I auditioned for Riff and Bernardo at first---finally they asked me to sing 'Maria.' Well, they played it in a very high key and my voice cracked. Finally they moved it to a lower key and I sang it through. But they still didn't tell me anything. When Steve Sondheim called me up and told me I had been cast, I thought I had been cast as Riff. When he told me I was cast as Tony, I broke down and cried."
"Did you interview any gang members?" I ask. Larry says he didn't, but of course tells us that Jerry Robbins did in his preparation for the musical. Larry tells us that Frank Green, a Jet, and also his understudy, was the only cast member who was once a gang member and was helpful in staging the rumble. "Frank Green showed Jerry the moves, and Jerry staged it."
Time moves on, occasionally there is a knock on the door. One or two really old ladies, walking dogs, come in and say hello. I have no idea of what they are doing there, Larry doesn't explain, but they seem right at home, then move out. From the time I enter the stage door until when I leave, they are the only other people I see; I never pass another cast member.
The interview moves toward its close. Time for one last question:
"What advice do you have for some starting out in the business?"
Larry replies: "Go down to Miami Beach and get a suntan!' ...then "Seriously, do some studying. I am really getting a lot out of studying with Sandy Meisner. Take dance lessons, singing lessons, whatever you have to. Mickey Calin is the only actor I know who never took a dance lesson, singing lesson or acting lesson in his life. It just came naturally to him. But most people have to study."
It is 2:15, Larry has been very generous with his time, has talked a lot, and tells us that he really has to get ready. I leave first. As I get up, I hold out my hand, say "Thanks so much for the interview Larry." He gives me a strong handshake. "My pleasure, Bob!" Down the stairs I go, feeling totally exhilarated.
Postscript: My brother and I see West Side Story two more times during its run, once in April of ‘59 and once in May of ‘60. Both times we say hello to Larry. He is very cordial, but I have no idea if he really remembers the interview or not. Larry's next Broadway show is A Family Affair in 1962. He and Rita Gardner play the romantic leads in a very silly musical starring Shelley Berman and Eileen Heckart. Afterwards I wait for him when he comes out of the Billy Rose Theater stage door. I tell him he was great, but I say I wish he had more to do. "Well, maybe next year," he says.
A year later, Larry is touring as Harry Bogen, a vicious business climber in a musical called I Can Get It for You Wholesale (Music and Lyrics: Harold Rome; Book: Jerome Weidman; Direction: Arthur Laurents). I see the show in Baltimore, where I am attending college. I had seen the show on Broadway where Elliott Gould played Harry and gave a vicious, snakelike performance. I wonder how Larry, whose presence I have always found much warmer then Gould's, will do in the role, if he will be able to find the unpleasant characteristics that the character possesses. To my surprise he is great----he keeps his warmth, sings really beautifully, shows incredible charm, but underneath is callous and manipulative. It is a Wednesday matinee, and I go back and say hello. I remind Larry of the interview, he is very nice, we talk briefly and he thanks me for coming back.
Flash forward to May of 1970. I am attending a preview of Company. Larry is standing by for Dean Jones. As I cross the lobby we pass each other, our eyes lock, but we say nothing, it takes me a minute to realize it is he. He looks like he is just trying to fade in the background; probably he was very disappointed that Hal Prince asked him to stand by instead of offering him the role of Bobby, the musical's lead, but a month later he triumphs: Dean Jones leaves the cast, Larry takes over the lead and is nominated for a Tony, the only actor to be nominated for a role he did not originate.
In the early eighties, I re-entered theater as an off-off Broadway producer and director, and as a play evaluator for the Eugene O'Neill Playwright's Conference. Theater was my life, and I had many friends who were actors. I was always sure that at some given moment I would run into Larry at a theater bar, or perhaps a sporting event (he loved basketball) and re-introduce myself, remind him of the interview, that Joe Williams was his favorite singer, and we would "talk the talk". Sadly this never happened. I was home in Spring of 1991 and listening to WINS Radio when it was announced that he had died of AIDS at the age of 62. (another thing he had told us at the interview; that his birthday was December 1). In June of 1991 a memorial was held for him on the stage of the Winter Garden Theater. (I did not attend) A newspaper article about it mentioned that Carol Lawrence was the main speaker, and that the first thing she said was how wonderful and supportive he was as a partner for her on stage in WSS. It was great to read.
Mr. Landau advises that the conversations reported here are accurate in context and the quotes are consistent with his recollections of the events, if not necessarily exact in every case.
Bob Landau directed many projects off-off-Broadway during the eighties and nineties. During that time he also evaluated plays for the Eugene O’Neill Playwrights Conference. He currently substitute teaches in both private and public schools around the city and tutors in the different boroughs.