Thoughts on Culver City High School’s Fiddler on the Roof, Teen Tevyes, and Drama Teacher Ghosts
I’m back again.
New week, new weird record, this time supplied by e-Bay! I really tried to find a record in person, but after a couple trips to thrift stores left me empty handed, I had to turn to the internet. NYC is letting me down! If you are a person who might know of a place that has records weirder than a handful of strange Christmas albums (why are there so many of those?), please let me know.
Before we really delve in here, I would like to say a quick thank you to the approximately seven people who pretend to find this blog interesting, at least to my face. I have received a lot of great feedback, including truly motivating gems like
“Oh, yeah, I saw that but I didn’t read it” — my own grandma, who is retired and probably doesn’t have anything better to do.
Sigh.
The poster is also “pasted” on a brick background that is much more evocative of West Side Story than of Fiddler on the Roof, but I digress. Also, this show was “SOLD OUT,” they’ll have you know.
Anyway, today I have my hands on a vinyl recording of Culver City High School’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. Because I am thoroughly creepy resourceful, a long dive into the internet revealed that this production was performed in 1972, as well as some heart-warming information about the probable origins of this record.
I was interested in this record when I first spotted it on e-Bay for a variety of reasons:
I find these High School records to be kind of hilarious
The price was right, and mostly
This one had a really weird collage on the back.
You read that correctly.
Some pictures have fallen off, and the glue has since soaked through, but you can tell that this was assembled with care.
I had to do a lot of searching to figure out the year that this California High School’s production was mounted, including (but not limited to) some name googling, Facebook searching, and a trip through an online yearbook database. While I did eventually find the year (and the specific yearbook page all of the images were certainly cut from), I also found an incredibly relevant Facebook post from early last year, announcing the passing of a beloved drama teacher from Culver City’s past. I had to stop and do a double-take as I immediately recognized his name: it is hand written on the upper right-hand side of the back of this record.
This was likely his.
This probably explains how this made its way to e-Bay, and it definitely makes the collage on the back way less narcissistic than I initially thought it was. It’s sort of adorable. It’s hard not to go into this listen wanting to love it, simply because you know the guy who put it together really, REALLY must have.
It’s also possible that 2% of me feels like I have to love it because I don’t want to be haunted by the ghost of a dead teacher from California.
Anyway.
If you are unfamiliar with Fiddler on the Roof, the 1964 Bock and Harnick musical is based on the Tevye stories originally penned by Sholem Aleichem around the turn of the century. In Fiddler on the Roof we are introduced to Tevye, a Jewish dairy farmer from the small village of Anatevka, and father of five daughters. As each of his daughters choose less and less conventional men to marry, Tevye must wrestle with both his faith and his strong sense of Tradition. (If you are unfamiliar with the plot of Fiddler, never fear! I’ve included bolded plot points under the title of each song. If you are dorky informed and know the plot of Fiddler, feel free to skip these.)
It is also worth pointing out that the popular film version of Fiddler on the Roof was released in November of 1971, so to put up the musical only a few months after everyone and their mother saw it in theaters must have been pretty neat for these students. (Don’t get TOO cocky, Culver City High School Alums, I got to do South Pacific in High School a mere 56 YEARS after the movie came out, so HOW ABOUT THAT?)
SIDE 1
1. Tradition
The citizens of Anatevka sing about their unchanging way of life, one ruled by “Tradition.”
The thing that’s wild about Fiddler is that unless your fiddle player is awful, all versions sound exactly alike. I could be listening to the Original Broadway Cast Recording right now— only I soon know I’m not because Tevye begins to speak, and he’s closer to 15 than 50. Although, for a High School kid, his voice is deceiving. He has a nice little rasp going on, almost like he listened to Harvey Fierstein play this role. But he didn’t. Because it’s the 70s.
We are on to the verses for the citizens of Anatevka (Papas, Mamas, Sons, Daughters) and BOY is it fast. I guess it’s a long musical. No time to waste. People have 11pm bedtimes.
This is pretty good for a High School. A very nice, well rounded sound.
Yente the Matchmaker is here, reminding us once again who is performing the musical. She is serving us 1970s California school girl realness.
OH NO, the Rabbi is hitting us with… some kind of accent? Sort of Transylvanian? Is he a Rabbi, or a villain in a 1940s vampire movie?
By the time we get to the last chorus of the song, it’s moving like a runaway train. So fast. So, so fast.
2. Matchmaker
Tevye’s three oldest daughters (Tzeitel, Hodel, and Chava) sing about the husbands they hope Yente the matchmaker does (or doesn’t) bring for them.
Fiddler is probably a popular choice for High Schoolers in part because it includes age-appropriate roles (and a bunch of old characters, but you can’t have everything…).
This number features very mature singing voices from all three of the young women playing the daughters, which makes the point about the youthful roles sort of a mute one, but I digress. It’s enjoyable.
Also this Orchestra is VERY GOOD. Culver City must have had a strong arts department.
3. If I Were a Rich Man
Tevye contemplates how his life would be better if he were rich.
This track suffers the most from the quality of the vinyl itself — it skips frequently. Which is too bad, because it’s really well done. I mean it. I take back what I said before about young Tevye. He sounds really, really mature. Maybe that’s what he sounds like, maybe he listened to a lot of Zero Mostel to prepare. Any way you slice it, he does not sound like a High School kid. I think if you played this for me with no context, I would have no idea. Teen Tevye for the 1972 Jimmy Awards.
4. Sabbath Prayer
Tevye and his family say sing a prayer.
CONFESSION TIME, this is my favorite song from Fiddler. Why? I don’t know. Whose favorite song from Fiddler is Sabbath Prayer?? When I saw the show a few months ago in Yiddish, this number brought me to tears. I think it’s something about the tight harmonies. Which this production managed to get just right.
5. To Life
Tevye celebrates the super-old-but-well-off-butcher Lazar Wolf’s offer to marry his eldest daughter Tzeitel.
They gave us a dialogue intro to this song. Unclear why, and it’s kind of a long one. Interesting.
I almost wrote something about how silly this clearly-teenage Lazar Wolf sounds next to real grown up Tevye, but OH WAIT, Tevye is a teen too. I’m telling you, this kid is sneaky. The music director should be commended for undoubtably drilling these kids on choral diction, because I just understood lyrics that I’ve never managed to catch before. And I’ve been in this show.
The only way this number suffers is in that most of the group singing is unison — nobody decides to jump the octave as is usually customary. Were there no still vaguely pre-pubescent Freshman to help them out?
They recorded the WHOLE several minute long dance break, which I appreciate. It sounds nice. I wish I could see every high-school boy’s dream— the accompanying several minute long dance break.
SIDE 2
PLEASE NOTE: This is where we switch sides of the record, but musically we are only about half-way through Act 1. The first half of the Act is LONG.
1. Miracle of Miracles
Motel, newly engaged to Tevye’s oldest daughter Tzeitel, celebrates that Tevye changed his mind about forcing her to marry an old guy instead of him.
This kid is doing everything he can to remind us that there are three syllables in the word “Miracle,” and has a strong accent. Nice voice though. Again this song is FAST.
2. The Dream
Tevye invents a fake dream to convince his wife Golde that it’s a good idea to let Tzeitel marry the poor Motel instead of the rich Lazar Wolf. In the dream, he includes both Golde’s Grandma and Lazar Wolf’s dead wife, Fruma-Sarah.
This track also has a dialogue intro, and WOWOWOW Tevye’s screams will haunt my nightmares.
Oh no, the vampire Rabbi is back, singing with Grandma Tzeitel. Of course, this is supposed to be a scary dream so maybe it actually makes sense? Maybe this kid is one step ahead of me. A spooky Rabbi to foreshadow a spooky dream. I would like to commend whoever it was who let this kid keep doing this voice after he probably tried it once as a joke.
Fruma Sarah is here and she, like everyone else, knows that Fruma Sarah’s time on stage is the best 3 minutes of Fiddler on the Roof. She enters with a bang.
During Golde’s dialogue at the end of the number (during which she executes a flawless transatlantic dialect), SOMEONE (I’m guessing Tevye??) is making the STRANGEST sounds. I think he’s trying to panic softly, but it kind of sounds like someone making parrot noises. Judge for yourself.
3. Sunrise, Sunset
Motel and Tzeitel get married, and Tevye and everyone else feel very sentimental about that.
This absolutely HAS to win the award for “Fastest Rendition of ‘Sunrise, Sunset’ Ever Performed.” Usually a slow, moving ballad, this is fast enough to perform a rollicking waltz to.
If you want to see just HOW MUCH FASTER IT IS, you can compare tempos between the YouTube link to the film at right, and the audio link to Culver’s production below.
If you REALLY want to watch the world burn, I recommend hitting play on both versions. At the same time. Frightening.
4. Now I Have Everything
Perchik, a young radical, proposes to second daughter Hodel, and she accepts. As evidenced by the title, that’s enough for him.
“I am very happy, Hodel. Very happy.”
“So am I Perchik. What’s the matter?”
I don’t that’s the actual lead-in dialogue but I guess that’s what we’re doing. WHOOP NOPE that strange, clunky piece of dialogue is really in the libretto. Poor Perchik has a nice voice crack forever immortalized on this vinyl.
5. Do You Love Me?
With his daughters suddenly deciding to (gasp!) marry for love, Tevye wonders if his matchmaker-chosen-wife Golde actually loves him.
A pretty standard rendition of this song. Tevye is great again. Man.
6. Far From the Home I Love
Perchik gets arrested, so Hodel decides to go to Siberia to be with him. She explains this decision to her heartbroken father.
You know, this song gets a bad rap because it is in every high school girl’s book, but oof. Gorgeous song. Well performed by this girl. Bravo, Hodel. And BRAVO to the high school Oboe player. If you have ever been in/near/forced to sit through a performance by a high school band, then you’ll know that oboes frequently sound like dying ducks when played by high schoolers. But the end of this is GORGEOUS. Very professional sounding.
7. Chava Ballet
Tevye’s daughter Chava decides she wants to marry a Not Jewish Russian, and that is Too Much for Tevye. He doesn’t give her his blessing and mourns the “loss” of his daughter.
It’s worth noting that this number is typically titled “Chaveleh (Little Bird);” it’s a song for Tevye, usually accompanied by a dance performed by the actress playing Chava and sometimes the actresses playing the other daughters. Not sure if this is just an error on the vinyl maker’s part, or a comment on just how dope Chava’s apparent ballet was.
They included the middle dialogue between Chava and Tevye and it’s… really well done. It’s heartbreaking and the deteriorated vinyl quality makes it especially haunting. Oof.
8. Anatevka
The villagers of Anatevka are forced by the Russians to leave their homes and the town they love.
A very traditional ending. At a normal tempo. What a blessing.
The End.
Sort of a startling ending — the musical has no closing number. Anatevka and then… nothing. That’s it.
Y'all this was… really good. I’m actually really impressed. Good job Culver City. Good job, Mr. B the Drama teacher.
I feel like I speak for anyone who has ever participated in the wild ride that is high school theater when I say that a beloved drama teacher can make all the difference. So to Mr. B of Culver City, and all the Mr. Bs in my life and beyond, thank you.
