As crowds shuffled down the aisles of Broadway’s Minskoff Theatre, I could hear their murmurs and the rustling of winter coats as audiences settled in for the evening performance of Disney’s “The Lion King.” The theatergoers didn’t know I was there, able to hear them and curious about how they’d respond when the lights went down. I was below, taking it all in before I took my own seat — in the rhythm section of the orchestra pit.
The orchestra of “The Lion King” is split up, as are many today. The elevated conductor’s stand (more like a conductor’s loft) hovers at center stage. Directly in front of that platform is the drum kit, which is fully insulated in a sort of makeshift sound booth, walled in by clear dividers all around and a roof. On house left sits the strings and woodwinds. Yet, from where I am with the rhythm section, house right, I can’t see a single violin or flute. The brass section is in an entirely separate room in the catacombs of the theater, and there are additional percussionists in two boxes in the house.
Holding it all together is an intricate system of cameras, screens, mics, control panels and headsets — synced to the millisecond so that this orchestra can play as one for the two-act musical. Wires hang like window shades around the perimeter of the pit, powering and connecting the sound of instrumentalists among one another, the onstage company and the audience.
As the lights dim, I settle in on a little black stool tucked in a corner facing the musicians, my spine pressed against the pit’s front wall, a plexiglass partition hugging my left side. To my right, Alvin Hough sits near the door at a keyboard synthesizer facing the audience. Behind Hough, Thomas Brett stands at his marimba, with his back to a drum called the djun djun. In front of me, Jack Mansager (subbing in for David Mancuso) arranges his mallets on a second marimba (my knee grazes its frame). There’s a set of congas to his left (directly across from me) and shelves tucked here and there with shakers and bells. If the clear barrier wasn’t between us, my left arm could rest on guitarist John Benthal’s shoulder. Benthal shares his side of the divider with bassist Thom Barney (who can see into the drummer’s sanctum) and keyboardist Carmine Giglio (subbing in for Allen Farnham), whose keys butt up against the base of the conductor’s high-rise. Everyone has a screen above their music stand, showing a black-and-white simulcast of conductor Cherie Rosen. Giglio, on keyboard #1, is the only player with a screen that displays the stage.
The lights dim, a pre-show announcement plays and we all put our headsets on. Rosen stands, a spotlight hits and that famous cry erupts: “Naaaaaants ingonyamaaaaaaaa bakithi baba.” With one downbeat from Rosen, the ensemble hums “Sithi uuuuuuuuhm ingonyamaaaaa.” Rosen cues the orchestra next and “The Lion King” has begun.
