Sondheim

Stephen Sondheim is getting a Special Recognition award later this month at the Laurence Olivier Awards. Last year the maestro turned 80 years old, a birthday that heralded a season of his work at the Donmar Warehouse, plus his very own Prom concert and the publication of the first volume of his "sort of" autobiography. Not bad for a bloke who's not really written much these last ten years or so.

There's not really a problem with Sondheim, truth be told; there can be no doubt that he is a genius, a legend of American Musical Theatre. Whether it's solely the lyrics that he often derides now from earlier shows such as West Side Story or Gypsy, towards the grand masterpieces of Company and Sweeney Todd, it is clear to all that Sondheim is a special kind of composer. His work during the 70s and 80s in particular redefined what contemporary musical theatre was - gone were the fun and frolics of the Golden Age of Broadway; now as the Great White Way found itself seething under corruption and pornography, Sondheim's true visions could be unleashed: the uncertainties of relationships in Company, the mistakes of reminiscing in Follies, the tragedy of vengeance in Todd.

In the 80s, when audiences began to tire of this darkness amidst a growing AIDs crisis and the boom time of Wall Street, Sondheim changed direction again; this time he became more philosophical. Sunday In The Park With George, arguably his second masterpiece after Todd, looked in depth at what it meant to be an artist. Into The Woods is a surprisingly old fashioned twist on old fashioned fairy tales, but works magnificently. Assassins and Passion, his last great works in the 90s, were smaller affairs, and more and more his work has - perhaps sadly - been downgraded into review type shows such as (the admittedly brilliant) Putting It Together.

Give the guy a break, mind - he is 81 this year. It seems a shame that his work seems thoroughly rooted more in the hearts and minds of middle class audiences, the audiences who could afford to go to the theatre at that time, his own background, when the messages within them are so universal. What a great joy it was then that Tim Burton, one of the few great auteur's we have in this time, took on the challenge of bringing Todd to the screen, introducing a whole new age to the brilliant songs, score and bloodcurdling, chilling lyrics. A new production of this epic is set for later this year at Chichister, with Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton set to play the leads. No doubt people will go to see it more because of the film than the original productions, but so much the better; Todd is one of the few film versions of Sondheim's work that hasn't butchered a classic.

His influences are certainly felt today; they run all the way through Rent, for example. Now is the time for a major revival. The sooner, the better. We may not get much more out of him.