The Unique Six Decade Songwriting Partnership of Richard Maltby, Jr. and David Shire
Half the people author Joshua Rosenblum told about his book project were in agreement with Adam Gopnik’s observation, “They are the songwriters’ songwriters.” The other half responded, “Who are Maltby and Shire?” “Neither (one) savored a hit show nor won coveted awards,” Rosenblum writes. Maltby’s peers acknowledge him as one of the great living wordsmiths and an expert story teller. Shire’s fans admired his melodic inspiration, harmonic vocabulary, and faculty in any genre.
There are actors who sustain a career by playing versions of themselves, Cary Grant, for example, and those who disappear into roles they play. The latter are most often praised by colleagues. Audiences will recognize, but not be able to name them, just as people might be familiar with a Maltby/Shire song but not its authors. The creators shed their own personas in service of material. This is not to say they don’t express themselves, but rather that songs come first.
When Maltby first encountered Shire as Yale freshmen, they made assumptions – Maltby thought Shire was a hick, Shire that Maltby was stuck up. They immediately disliked each other. Maltby immediately joined the drama society. Shire arrived later bringing an entire musical – no plot, no lyrics. “We laughed at it,” Maltby recalls. Still, he wanted to be a lyricist and David a composer. Fate threw them together. “Hey, if you had met Alan Menken, you’d be rich,” Shire quips. The book is full of priceless conversation excerpts and banter.
Both men’s fathers were musicians. Maltby’s frame of reference was the Golden Age of Musicals with drama and arc; Shire’s The Great American Songbook – in those days pop crossover. Two years later, Yale produced their musical, Cyrano. On the one hand, it was clearly an early effort, on the other, talent remains apparent. Rosenblum dissects several songs for form and content. Writers, take out your notebooks. This volume is crammed with lessons. The show modestly toured.
The young men met Stephen Sondheim when he and Hal Prince traveled to Yale to check out the new guys. A mutual admiration society lasted until the icon’s death. Maltby and he had puzzles in common. Shire was asked to write dance music for several shows. At 70, Sondheim included the pair’s song “Travel” in a list of those he wished he’d written.
Next came Grand Tour, a take-off on Katharine Hepburn’s Summertime – close but not threateningly so. The collaborators look back. Songs are examined. Rosenblum knows what he’s talking about. Maltby and Shire parted, attending two different graduate schools. Both felt out of sync where they were. Anxious to get on with it, they moved back to New York.
Maltby got the idea for their next show reading the back cover (admittedly not the book) of John Cheever’s The Wapshot Chronicle. The Sap of Life was developed, opened to mixed reviews, and disappeared. Howard Taubman of The New York Times wrote that Malby’s lyrics were “neat as well as labored” and that Shire’s music was “unusually ingenious and sophisticated…although several turns recall the work of others…” Some songs made it into later revues.
At this point, through a friend, the pair were able to get “Autumn” and “Starting Here, Starting Now” to (then) club Bon Soir phenomenon, Barbra Streisand. She recorded them. Shire became the pit pianist and assistant conductor for Funny Girl. Show by show, we proceed. “What’s Happening, Baby”- “Terrible title”, Maltby laments – concerned computer dating and would’ve been the first musical with a pop/rock score. Unfortunately, it arrived simultaneous to Hair which knocked it out of the running.
Lynn Meadows, Artistic Director of Manhattan Theatre Club, who at 12 had been in the children’s chorus of Grand Tour, brought the men together again. Her memories are featured. It was she who suggested the revue that would become Starting Here, Starting Now. The New York Times gave it a “nice, pleasant, sort of pat on the back review…the write up from Daily News was less excited,” Maltby says. “I remember saying to David, The New York Post has to start by saying, ‘wow, wow, wow, what wonderful songs’…if it doesn’t say that we’ll close in a week.” Martin Gottfried wrote just that. “It was that kind of turn everything around review.”
Happy to join up again, their independent careers nonetheless had momentum. Francis Ford Coppola planted the seed for Baby by asking, “What’s the most emotional experience you’ve had in the past few years?” A deep dive into the terrific musical is illuminating as well as fun. Maltby pursued “that Fats Waller idea” which became the successful Ain’t MIsbehavin’ and started directing – though to this day he protests he doesn’t know how.
Shire established himself in Hollywood winning an Academy Award for the song “It Goes Like It Goes” from Norma Rae. He scored film. A second revue, Closer Than Ever was met with anticipation. It had a brief run, but like its predecessor continues to be licensed.
There’s Take Flight, Our Table, an ongoing co-project with Adam Gopnik, Madame Sousatzka (from the film)…The Country Wife had an airing at Symphony Space not too long ago. This does not cover the two extensive resumes.
The estimable York Theater, helmed by James Morgan, has produced versions of both revues and Baby as well as honoring Maltby and Shire with The Oscar Hammerstein II Award for Achievement in Musical Theater. The American Popular Song Society saluted them at the 2024 Gala which featured many members of original casts. Richard Maltby, Jr. and David Shire continue to write.
Starting Here, Starting Now will be entertaining and informative for fans, students, and practitioners. Research is excellent. Maltby and Shire are not just thoughtful and articulate, they’re delightful.
Author Photo: D. Phelan Photography
Closer Than Ever by Joshua Rosenblum
Oxford University Press
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