On one of my earliest dates with my now-husband, we went to see a local community theater production of Rent. Since my adolescent years, the musical had been among my all-time favorites thanks to the 2005 film adaptation, a DVD of the filmed final Broadway performance, and a copy of the original cast soundtrack that I played on perpetual loop. (Lest you doubt my devotion, one of my very first ringtones was a tinny recording of “La Vie Boheme.”)
But before that early autumn evening over a decade ago, I’d never seen the show performed live. It was staggering. At its heart, the musical is an earnest exploration of community, of genuine connection, of family found and bonds challenged, tested, strengthened. The performance was a window into grief, both individual and collective, that nonetheless championed love over the dread and fear of illness, addiction, homelessness, poverty, and creative failure. Rent is a work that unabashedly celebrates the value of art as a means of survival and kinship.
Written by Jonathan Larson as a reimagining of the classic Puccini opera La Boheme, Rent centered eight New Yorkers against the backdrop of the East Village in the late eighties, the specter of the HIV/AIDS crisis and threat of gentrification looming large. After a wildly successful sold-out run off-Broadway, the musical, beloved by critics and audiences alike, found its way to the Nederlander Theater on 41st Street, where it ran for 12 years. Innumerable revivals, tours, and concerts later, Rent's tagline and core philosophy—"No Day But Today"—reverberates still.
Musical director Tim Weil, who has worked in the industry as a conductor, arranger, composer, bandleader, and more for over 50 years, worked on Rent from its earliest workshop days. From audition accompanist to head of the musical's legendary onstage band, Weil was instrumental to developing the soundscape that made Rent such a powerhouse. In Making Rent, Weil reflects on the process of shaping the musical's sound and guiding it onward in the wake of Johnathan Larson's death. In this conversation, Weil shares further thoughts on Larson's life and legacy, the show's iconic score, and why we can't stop singing along all these years later.
Alanna McAuliffe: Thirty years ago, Rent first opened on Broadway. The production went on to win four Tony Awards, including Best Musical, and has since been rightly recognized as a cultural touchstone. To this day, it resonates with new audiences and remains ever popular with longtime fans. Why do you think it is that we still turn to Rent, three decades on?
Tim Weil: The most obvious answer is that the songs are great. The music is accessible to audiences old and young alike, and the lyrics are filled with great storytelling and imagery. It also doesn't hurt that "Seasons of Love" was one of those songs that broke through the show into the public sphere and the musical fabric of contemporary society. Very few songs coming out of the musical theater achieve that status, and the name of the musical itself, Rent, has also burrowed its way into the national lexicon over the past 30 years.
But more importantly, it is at its core a musical about community, about friendship, and caring for your fellow humans in the best and worst of times. Also, the characters Jonathan Larson wrote continue to resonate with those who feel like outsiders, whether just as artists (as I did in my younger days) or as part of the LBGTQ+ community. Rent continues to give voice to and celebrate the other.
In Making Rent, you reflect on the process of bringing the show to life, meditating on your partnership with playwright Jonathan Larson, who tragically passed away the day before Rent’s first preview. What was the experience of looking back at this moment in time like, and what do you hope listeners take away about Larson and his legacy?
Jonathan was a person who was unafraid to try—succeed or fail—and was fully immersed in his quest to make his work matter. He had all of the qualities of a great artist: skill, craft, inspiration, openness, wonder, and, yes, stubbornness. He was a serial risk-taker, always fearless in the way he worked and the way he lived. He figuratively and literally gave his life for Rent, and for that I am forever humbled by our collaboration.
The music and soundscape of Rent is among its standout characteristics, a score infused with pop-rock power and all the theater-spanning resonance of a traditional show tune. It’s a musical style so impactful that Rent is largely credited for reviving the rock opera. How did you come to shape this soundscape, and what were you trying to convey with the show’s unique score?
I would first contend that Rent was more responsible for reviving the modern contemporary American musical theater writ large. Through the 1980s and into the early 1990s, the hit commercial musicals were coming by way of England, and Rent marked the beginning of a rebirth for American musicals and proof that contemporary music could be a canvas on which musicals could be built and sustained, with shows like Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Spring Awakening, American Idiot, and Next to Normal, all the way through to Hamilton.
As for my role in the shaping of Rent's music, it was a culmination of all I had learned up to that point in my life as a musical director, musician, arranger, and composer. What can't be left out of the conversation are the invaluable and iconic contributions and performances by my great friends and world-class musicians who formed the Rent band.
Your book is narrated by performer Daniel Henning, perhaps best known for his award-winning voice work on TJ Klune’s Cerulean Chronicles. What was the process of finding a narrator like for you? Have you had a chance to listen in at all, and if so, what is your favorite thing about Henning’s performance?
No, I haven't listened to Daniel's work yet, but I've heard of him through family connections, and I trust him completely with the manuscript.
And finally, do you have a favorite song from Rent? A favorite scene?
My favorite song will always be "What You Own," which appears late in the second act. It's a duet with Mark and Roger that's a perfect emotional climax to their personal journeys, which ultimately ushers in the rebooting of their friendship. It's a masterful song that used to be two songs in the 1994 workshop, which Jonathan rewrote for the 1995 production (which became the Broadway show). That song is a master class in songwriting, dramaturgy, craft, and artistry.
My favorite "scenes" are the four songs which feature the homeless community, which grows in size every time we check in with them throughout the show. Despite their consequences, they provide us with clarity, wit, irony, and inescapable truths while maintaining their personal dignity.
