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Photograph: Peter Mountain/Disney/Allstar ‘His lyrics soon became my echolalic tenets’: Emily Blunt and James Corden in the 2014 film of Into the Woods. “He was,” as Mandy Patinkin offered this weekend, “simply one of our greatest teachers.” Learning Sondheim’s catalogue by heart was at first an act of musical perseveration, but his lyrics soon became my echolalic tenets. To paraphrase Jane Austen, what are Melrose Place and Smash Hits compilations to The Ladies Who Lunch and A Little Priest? This position did not brook me much schoolyard cachet I once attempted to introduce Assassins to some cooler, older kids by shrugging, “It has swearing in it”. This sad weekend past, I have been delighted anew by A Little Night Music’s Later:Īnd the late, or, rather, later, Henrik Egerman.”
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There was something irresistible in the rhythms and dazzling word puzzles of his lyrics that set synapses alight in my brain. In Sondheim’s music and lyrics I had found a trusted friend and confidante, a harmonist to harmonise with. I quickly set about consuming every skerrick of Sondheim’s work that I could get my hands on. But there was something deeper at play for that (then-undiagnosed) autistic child: in the emotional ambivalence and lyrical dazzlement of songs like Moments in the Woods and On the Steps of the Palace, I felt, somehow, recognised.