40 and counting . . .
Bernardo Bernardo (right) onstage with the 7-year-old Lea Salonga (encircled) in “The King and I” —PHOTO FROM FACEBOOK
NEW YORK—Last March 11, I celebrated my 40th anniversary as a performer, by doing exactly what I did on that same day 40 years ago: I performed in a musical.
This year, it’s “Once on This Island.” Back then, it was “The King and I.”
Our opening night for the latter show, Repertory Philippines’ 15th season ender, was on March 11, 1978, at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.
It starred Baby Barredo as Anna Leonowens and Bernardo Bernardo as the King of Siam, Becca Godinez as Tuptim and Cocoy Laurel as Lun Tha.
Zeneida “Bibot” Amador directed, Rose Borromeo choreographed and Minda Azarcon conducted.
Among the many children were designer Rajo Laurel, the Wea Twins Joy and Gay Pobre, and yours truly.
It was quite the thing, getting to perform onstage and don Celia Laurel’s rich and opulent costumes.
The anniversary whipped me right back to our rehearsals at the old Metrobank building, the spacious room with fluorescent lighting filled with the laughter of children (much to stage manager Dodo Lim’s chagrin), Tita Bibot’s authoritative voice and Tita Baby’s strong, dulcet tones … photo sessions in the open area of the PhilAmLife Building on UN avenue and in the backyard of Tita Celia’s house … and climbing up those narrow stairs that led to the CCP’s backstage, and singing “Shall I Tell You What I Think of You” for Tita Baby in her dressing room.
It also reminded me of how fortunate we all were that the positions of power in this production were filled by women.
Women’s day
Last Monday, a symposium, titled “Women’s Day on Broadway: Celebrating Stories, By, For and About Women,” was held at the St. James Theater where the brand-new musical, “Frozen,” is currently being previewed.
It seemed fitting that this show that features women as its central characters (Patti Murin plays Anna, and Caissie Levy plays Elsa) would house the symposium.
There were different panels throughout the afternoon, featuring women directors, producers and performers.
I was in the performer panel alongside Renée Elise Goldsberry (Tony winner for playing Angelica Schuyler in “Hamilton”), Katrina Lenk (star of “Indecent” and “The Band’s Visit”), Chita Rivera (the legend herself), and Sherie Rene Scott (star of “The Last 5 Years” and “Aida,” and multiple Tony nominee for performing and writing). Oscar winner Whoopi Goldberg acted as our moderator.
We all spoke about the creative process, ways into roles that might be diametrically opposed in ideology to us, how things have progressed in women’s involvement in production and creation (or if they haven’t, and how much further we have yet to go).
We spoke about listening and how one never stops learning, and overcoming the inner voice of doubt.
It ended with Whoopi wanting to create a sort of “Emily’s List” of powerful women that could end up as forces behind shows for, by and starring women.
Other panelists included directors Diane Paulus, Baayork Lee and Julie Taymor, producer Daryl Roth and writers Tina Fey and Kristen Anderson-Lopez.
At that evening’s performance of “Once on This Island,” our company manager, Margaret Skoglund, and one of our stage managers, Mary-Kathryn Flynt, who were symposium attendees, said how inspired they both were to be sitting in that theater watching all these women tell their stories, pushing through the mire of misogyny.
In this era of the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, many of us feel that now is our time to tell more of our stories from our points of view in the way we know they should be told.
I can’t wait to see what we’ll all do next. It was a great day to be a woman.
My first leading man
I was saddened to learn of Bernardo Bernardo’s passing last March 8.
I remember his ebullience, that sly twinkle in his eye, his loud voice, his debonair presence.
Tall, slim and stern are the adjectives I’ll use for his portrayal of the King of Siam in “The King and I” all those years ago, his shirt open, his hair cropped short, black eyeliner under his eyes.
That vision would change when we worked together for “The Goodbye Girl” only a few years later, a naughty glint in his eye replacing the serious expression, and appearing naked onstage, save for a guitar covering his more delicate parts. He did so with aplomb and humor, as well as fearlessness.
Rest in eternal piece, Tito Bernie. I shall never, ever forget you.
