The Great John Rubinstein

THE CELEBRATED ACTOR, DIRECTOR, AND COMPOSER SPEAKS ON LIFE, THEATER, AND THE NATURE OF GREATNESS

By Dr. Joshua Sherman

BY MARIA BARANOVA

Tony Award®-winning actor John Rubinstein, renowned for his roles in the original Broadway productions of Pippin (1972) and Children of a Lesser God (1979), is bringing his rich theatrical talents to Barrington Stage Company’s Boyd-Quinson Stage, June 3–8, portraying President Dwight D. Eisenhower in the compelling new play Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground. Written by Richard Hellesen and directed by Peter Ellenstein, the production offers a unique glimpse into Eisenhower’s life and presidency. In anticipation of his performance at Barrington Stage, Dr. Joshua Sherman, publisher of Berkshire Magazine, sat down for a candid conversation with Rubinstein. Below are excerpts from that talk.

Sherman: The first time I saw you perform was on TV. It was the 1986 Tony Awards®. I distinctly remember you sitting at the piano, playing four-handed piano with a slew of celebrities. You started off singing "It's Love" from Wonderful Town, with Helen Hayes and José Ferrer surrounding you. Then, Bea Arthur led the group in "Heart" from Damn Yankees. I bring this up because, at the time, I didn’t know your father was the legendary pianist Arthur Rubinstein. But my first impression of you was sitting at the piano. In preparing for this interview, I noticed that you attended Juilliard for composition. Do you still play piano and make music?

Rubinstein: I was made to take piano lessons from age four. By the time I was a young teenager, I could play pretty well—not well enough to be known as a pianist, but I loved Broadway. I went to all the Broadway shows, and I knew all the songs. I could play countless Broadway songs and standards by ear. In high school, I started writing music for revues and skits. Then, at UCLA, where I was in the theater department, I provided incidental music for some of the plays. 

A woman I'd gone to school with asked if I would score her movie. I'd never done it before, but I'd written a couple of musicals at school. I said “yes,” and I was lucky. The music editor taught me the technicalities. I wrote a rather nice score and got a beautiful singer, Judy Kaye—who went on to win two Tony Awards®, to sing the title song. Judy was an old college pal. They later replaced her vocal with Emmylou Harris, who was completely unknown then. That experience started my composing career. My acting agent subsequently suggested me to Sydney Pollack, who was directing Jeremiah Johnson. For some reason, Sydney agreed to meet me. Initially, he only wanted five songs, but Warner Brothers wanted a bigger orchestral score. I had never written for a large orchestra, but Sydney asked me to audition by scoring the first ten minutes. I did, and he liked it, so I scored the whole film. Shortly thereafter, Robert Redford himself called and asked me to score his next movie, The Candidate, a great political film. Then I got Pippin on Broadway, which took me away from film scoring temporarily. Later, I returned to LA, scoring many other movies and television shows. That was my second career. 

Sherman: That's amazing! Jeremiah Johnson and The Candidate were big films.

Rubinstein: One of the great thrills of my life was when The Candidate won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. It was nominated for other categories, but it won for the screenplay. I was sitting at home in New York watching TV, and they played my main theme from the film as the writers went up to get their Oscar. It was surreal; an incredible thrill. I had scored those movies mostly by intuition. So, while doing Pippin, I took two extension courses at Juilliard with Stanley Wolfe, a great composer and teacher. One course covered contemporary music—I knew my father's repertoire and loved Brahms and Mahler but was unfamiliar with composers like Persichetti and John Cage. The other course was a composition class, where I wrote music that Stanley critiqued. I did that for two years.

Sherman: Do you still play, and do you still write music?

Rubinstein: I still play. The last movie or television show I scored was a long time ago, because I started working more in the theater. In theater, you do eight shows a week. I scored a couple of TV shows while I was doing a stage show, and it was exhausting. So, I stopped. But if somebody called me tonight and said, "Score my next big movie," I would do it.

Sherman: You mentioned Pippin, which debuted over 50 years ago.  I'm sure every interviewer since then has asked you about that show. What's your relationship to Pippin after 50 years?

Rubinstein: When you're in your 20s, 30s, 40s, you're living life, having children, or whatever you're doing. You're on this sort of treadmill, moving forward and enjoying it, hopefully. I certainly did. I've had a wonderful life and enjoyed most of it, despite some horrible bits we all experience. When you pass your 60s, your life begins to feel like it's going to have an ending. Suddenly, your life has a beginning, middle, and end. It becomes one piece, a thing. That is my life, and it has this shape. My childhood, my college years, my composing career—all that is early. 

I grew up in New York City, and all I ever wanted was to maybe someday get a small part in a Broadway show and walk onto one of those stages I'd visited so often. Instead, I got the title role in a big Bob Fosse musical. It was crazy, ridiculous, and I loved every second. Pippin was a project Bob made brilliant, and he allowed me to be part of it. I did my absolute best. So, if Pippin is always the first thing people mention—and certainly it will be in my obituary—that’s great. So, yes, I’m proud and happy people want to talk about Pippin or anything else.

Sherman: You have quite a history with the Berkshires. You last performed at Williamstown Theatre Festival in 2010, and, of course, your father performed at Tanglewood. Tell me about your time in the Berkshires.

Rubinstein: My oldest sister, Eva, married William Sloane Coffin Jr., a famous Presbyterian minister in the 1960s and ’70s—wonderful, interesting guy. When they married, he was chaplain at Andover, where many of my eighth-grade classmates from New York went. Later, he became chaplain at Williams College, and they had a house in Williamstown, raising their children there. I often visited my sister, niece, and nephews, and I'd go hear Bill preach each Sunday. He was a huge figure in Williamstown, so I spent plenty of time there. Many years later, I performed Arms and the Man by George Bernard Shaw in Pasadena, directed by Nikos Psacharopoulos, founder of Williamstown Theatre Festival. Afterward, Nikos invited me to Williamstown to perform in The Rover, a restoration comedy by Aphra Behn. Eventually, I ended up directing it, which launched my directing career. Later, I directed Les Liaisons Dangereuses there and acted in Our Town, along with others. 

Sherman: Let's talk about your newest adventure in the Berkshires. You're playing President Eisenhower in the show Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground at Barrington Stage. What's something surprising that you learned about Eisenhower in your research, either personally or historically?

Rubinstein: I actually met Eisenhower when I was seven or eight years old at the White House because my dad was performing a concert there. We were invited, so I was just a little boy, and Eisenhower said, "Hello, young fella." That was about it, but I'll never forget it. Of course, I lived through all of his eight years as president. But, something striking from both my schooling and my five children's schooling is that Eisenhower is generally skipped over almost completely. We talk about him as a great general in World War II, but most history teachers seem to jump straight to Kennedy and the New Frontier, Kennedy's assassination, Lyndon Johnson and civil rights, Vietnam, Nixon. That was the first major revelation: Eisenhower's presidency is essentially ignored. Historically, discussions jump from FDR and Truman straight to Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon. I personally didn't know much about Eisenhower beyond him being bald and playing golf. But in researching for this play, I discovered what he actually achieved during his presidency—some mistakes and misjudgments, certainly, but mostly great accomplishments. Also, his approach to the presidency itself was remarkable. He wasn't overly dynamic, but he did have charisma and a great sense of humor. Eisenhower also had a sincere desire to make people's lives better. During World War II, as a general, he had to send soldiers into dangerous situations, many to their deaths, but always with a purpose: to save Europe from Hitler. He cared deeply about each soldier, personally visiting them, improving their living conditions, even their food, to make their harsh lives better. Later, as NATO's first commander, Eisenhower united European countries, which he knew well from mapping First World War battlefields—an assignment he initially disliked but which gave him great understanding of Europe. He forged NATO into the greatest alliance on Earth. All of this was new to me, a real discovery. The entire play was illuminating, but most important was discovering Eisenhower’s genuine character and his unwavering dedication to improving American citizens' lives.

Sherman: How involved were you in the play’s development? Were you there from the beginning, or was this brought to you as a vehicle once it had already been developed?

Rubinstein: Years ago, I went to the William Inge Theatre Festival in Kansas for a play by David Henry Hwang. Peter Ellenstein was the director of the festival, and I didn't work with him 

personally, but I guess I shook his hand. Over 20 years later, Peter emailed me this play. It had been his idea. He said, "I have this play Eisenhower. Give it a read, would you?" I read it, and I thought, "Yeah, this is really interesting and very good. It's full of stuff I didn't know, and it has humor in it. But first, I don't know if I could possibly memorize it—it's ridiculously long. But I said, "Sure." He said, "Come and read it aloud for us because we've never heard it." Peter and the playwright, Richard Hellesen, had already spent two to three years writing it. I went online and saw speeches on YouTube of Eisenhower. I remembered him but noticed he spoke exactly like somebody I knew very well—an ex-stepfather of mine who was a high school principal in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Without working hard, because his voice was in my ear, I showed up and read the play aloud to the writer and director using my ex-stepfather’s voice. The play was beautifully written in a Midwestern vernacular. When I finished, we all looked at each other, and said, "We have to do this play. This has to be put on stage." During rehearsals, sure, I had a lot to say. We did a lot of restructuring and adjustments, but, basically, what I'm doing now is the play Richard wrote from the very beginning. My influence on it has been minimal.

Sherman: Pippin is about a young man on a journey to discover the meaning of life. Eisenhower is an older man looking back on his life, perhaps questioning the meaning of it all. Do you think there are similarities between them?

Rubinstein: Pippin wants to be great. It's not just that he's looking for the purpose of life. He selfishly wants to be extraordinary. That's what he wants for himself. And part of that, of course, is trying to figure out what life is and how to do it. But that's really not his intellectual pursuit. He wants to feel that he's worth something. 

I'm the son of Arthur Rubinstein, who was renowned the world over. There's always a little bit of that feeling, "Well, whatever I will or could or might do, it won't ever match that." So, I'm at a disadvantage if I say, "I want to be great like that." But if I just say, "I want to have a good time and be good to people and enjoy what work I get to do," then I don't need to be as great as he was, and I can bask in what I learned from him. But that's what Pippin wants, because his father is Charlemagne, the Holy Roman Emperor, so he needs to do something. 

With Eisenhower in this play, he is reacting to a listing in The New York Times shortly after the election of Kennedy. They had 75 historians who ranked all of the presidents up to that time. Number one, Lincoln, number two, Washington, number three, FDR, then number 22, Eisenhower. Our playwright picked that moment as the key to the play. Eisenhower wakes up that Sunday, reads that, and sees that he's number 22, and it pisses him off. It hurts his feelings. And that's how the play starts out, much like with Pippin, where he thinks, "I am better than that!" The difference is, Ike is looking at the past. Pippin is saying, "I'm better than this, I’ve got to be great." And Ike is saying, "I wasn't number 22, I was something better.” 

After Eisenhower gets over his sort of bruised ego, he says, "Wait a minute. These guys are talking about what makes a great president and what is greatness." And he starts in a much more philosophical and historically minded and personal way to examine what is greatness and how do you measure the greatness of a president. That's where the play then goes. It gets into that philosophy of human beings—who we are and why we're here. That's what Pippin aspires to, and that's what Ike examines.

John Rubinstein stars in Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground at Barrington Stage Company's Boyd-Quinson Mainstage, June 3-8, barringtonstageco.com