by Stephen R. Underwood
Southern Voice
April 30, 1998

The biggest thing out of Broadway finally comes to Atlanta May 5-10; Producer Kevin McCollum and actor Brent Daven Vance talk with Southern Voice about the show’s message and meaning

'Rent' producer Kevin McCollum turned in the Presidential Suite of Houston’s Lancaster Hotel on a bitter cold December morning last year, preparing for a full day of interviews about what many critics have described as "the greatest Broadway show on earth."

"I thought it would be warmer in the South," he says as he pours himself some fresh java from a sterling silver coffeepot.  "Now I feel as if I had not even left New York."

'Rent performers (Leigh Hetherington and Monique Daniels above) are culled from open casting calls seeking "hip, authentic singers."

That 'Rent' is immensely popular in New York certainly makes it that much easier to sell on the road, but McCollum seems more passionate than Saint Paul about bearing the torch for the gospel of deceased playwright Jonathan Larson.  "I take it very seriously to make sure that as many people as possible see his work," McCollum told Southern Voice.   "Yes, it’s a success; yes it’s a business, but it’s also Jonathan’s legacy." When McCollum met Larson in 1994, he told the aspiring literateur, "You’re the new voice."  Larson responded confidently – yet unpretentiously, "Yeah, I know."  Larson worked as a waiter in the Moondance Café in Soho while he drafted the final cuts of the hit musical. "Here was a guy who could barely pay the rent," recalls McCollum, "yet, he had enough sense of self to say that."

Larson, struggling to keep up with a demanding schedule, fell ill just before 'Rent' premiered a the New York Theater Workshop.  Tired, Stressed, and exhausted, he complained of chest pains after eating a turkey sandwich; almost immediately he collapsed.  Rushed to a nearby hospital, doctors pumped his stomach, suspecting food poising.  A second incident occurred a few days later and doctors at another hospital sent Larson home after diagnosing the ailment as the flu.

Roommate Brian Carmody came home and discovered Jonathan Larson enshrouded in his coat on the kitchen floor of his small New York apartment with a teakettle steaming on the stove. There lay the vox populi of neo millennium theater – silent, lifeless and at peace.  The autopsy revealed a catastrophic aortic aneurysm.  Larson was 35.

Larson’s sudden death and the instant popularity of 'Rent' immortalized his creative genius, a genius recognized as the vanguard for Generation Xers disenchanted with the fluff and pomp of the Great White Way.   'Rent' excited the MTV generation as never before, and the hip-punter street gang of a cast became the young person’s guide to the theater.

Inspired in large part by Puccini’s 'La Boheme,' Larson incubated his vision for 'Rent' amongst the trendy, self-actualize non-conformists of New York’s East Side.

For Larson, any human experience begged for assimilation.  Many of Larson’s friends died from HIV and some of the characters of 'Rent' manage to survive it.  Roger Davis, Tom Collins, and a transvestite named Angel are HIV-positive, while Mimi Marquez – an S&M dancer with a drug problem – live with AIDS.

I think the HIV element in ['Rent'] is not diminishing as a trait of some of the characters," McCollum says philosophically.  "Jonathan wanted to write a rock opera for the ‘90’s about people living with disease, not dying from it.  I think he has."

Even so, it seems improbable that Puccini would be offended by Larson’s adaptation.  For one, the desire to survive and overcome life’s limitations is universal, and the evolution of medical technology since Puccini’s era offers optimism once quite distant.

In 'La Boheme,' Puccini’s Parisians are plagued with tuberculosis and Mimi dies. In 'Rent,' Larson’s street-wise punters are plagued with AIDS and Mimi lives. Both plagues generated fatalism and finality once they became pandemic.  But Larson knew that, unlike ‘La Boheme,’ hope would make ‘Rent’ transcendent.

"A friend of Jonathan's had HIV and Jonathan asked to go to a Friends In Deed meeting with him," recounts McCollum.  "Someone at the meeting stood up and said, ‘I’m not afraid of dying, of not feeling whatever life is.  But what I am afraid of, and what I have to ask is ‘Will I lose my dignity before I die?" Jonathan could understand the power of that statement [even though he was not gay]."

'Rent' on tour seems destined for success as long as McCollum remains firmly at the helm.  He won the Tony Award for producing for 'Rent' and over the last seven years, McCollum produced Broadway mega-hits like 'Victor/Victoria,' 'Evita,' and 'West Side Story.'  McCollum was executive producer of the feature film 'Jeffrey,' but his first love will always be the theater.

The 'Rent' company represents the multi-cultural, self-actualizing, non-conformists of New York's East Side

"I feel very blessed to be a part of 'Rent' because the theme [is] 'show up for each other, take care of each other.'   People like to put this into a political content at times, but this is really a musical abut overcoming obstacles – economic, medical, emotional, whatever.  And at the same time, ['Rent'] asks what is the tonic for that?  How about love?   How about really being kind and taking care of each other.  I didn’t get that in the film business."

But that’s the miracle of 'Rent' and the secret of its success.  Its characters seem so believable because the actors are not really acting – they’re just being themselves. Or so thinks openly gay'‘Rent' actor Brent Daven Vance, a member of the company who plays a variety of characters including Paul (an AIDS counselor), a gay waiter and a homeless drug addict.

"I’m having such a ball cause this show is so loose," Vance told Southern Voice from a hotel room in Dallas. "We can get away with being ourselves in many instances.  Some people tell us, 'You guys were so touching and moving.  You must work really, really hard.'  And I say, 'Umm, no.'  We feel so guilty sometimes cause we are really having fun".

Vance’s professional trek to the West Coast cast was unconventional to say the least.

"I was a Las Vegas show boy," he says chuckling at the memory.  "I wore g-strings and go-go boots for years and worked theme parks and cruise ships. My first Broadway tour was 'Smokey Joe’s Café.'  Most artists, I think, are willing to work on their art – and willing to go anywhere."

Vance has his own hypothesis abut the residual benefits of being a member of the 'Rent' cast.  "Well the thing is, I don’t have to pay for therapy anymore," he says.  "The people on this cast are by far some of the most emotional and talented people.  Sometimes, because of the way the show is set up, you may never, ever know that.  But the great thing is, this wonderful story is being told."

But for him, there’s a serious side to the show as well. "Doing the show every night is a way for me to remember and honor my friends who have died of AIDS.  I don’t think any life is less precious than the next. The fact that we may lose someone doesn’t mean they’re gone forever.  'Rent' helps me keep those people with me every night."

Vance finds that Larson’s vision for the world – one in which a person’s worth is measured by their ability to love, not their pocketbook – is what the world really hungers for – not "types," social class, or economic standing.

For McCollum, the characters of 'Rent' are not on the fringe – they’re the new mainstream.  An innately curious Larson questioned everything about them, especially the problem of measuring the value of their lives.

"Jonathan wasn’t afraid of his own internal voice," McCollum says.  'Rent' is successful because "people are ready for ideas again – the set is not enough. If you can talk about issues while entertaining them, you can make some changes in the culture.  But in 'Rent' we have fun doing it – and we don’t try to preach.