Some mighty fancy footwork
Rachel York leads the tap-dancing jollity in ‘Anything Goes,’ stealing away for playful private duos with her young daughter. She moves fast.
The slower the traffic on the 101 Freeway, the less time Rachel York will have as Mommy before she becomes Reno Sweeney again.
“Shoot,” York says on a recent Sunday, squinting through her windshield wipers at the straggling line of taillights on the on ramp. “This may have been a mistake.”
At home — or at least, what’s home at the moment — there is a little girl clutching a stuffed red Elmo who shrieks “Mommy!” as York walks inside and who puts on tiny patent-leather tap shoes so they can dance together to the music of “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.”
There’s a reason few Broadway stars have children, York says wryly — and why those who do usually don’t bring a toddler on a national tour.
Between matinee and evening performances at the Ahmanson Theatre, York braves the traffic, mostly without complaint. Her bigger concern: finding time to see her daughter and still take care of herself during a grueling 10-month tour of “Anything Goes,” a full-tilt, tap-dancing, standard-belting musical.
York, 41, plays brassy nightclub singer Reno Sweeney in the Roundabout Theatre’s production of the Cole Porter musical, playing at the Ahmanson until Jan. 6. The tour began in Cleveland on Oct. 2 and played in five more cities before arriving in Los Angeles. It’ll continue on to such
cities as San Francisco, Chicago and Washington, D.C., before winding up in Toronto in August.
Appearing in Los Angeles has a bonus for York — she once lived here, her sister lives in Pacific Palisades, and her parents live in Westlake Village.
Once she leaves her Manhattan home, the touring life will mean months of rented cars, rented apartments and little time with her husband of three years, movie and theater producer Ayal Miodovnik. They met in an onstage romance (a “showmance”) nearly a decade ago.
The role of Reno Sweeney is demanding — Sutton Foster originated it for the 2011 Broadway revival, winning a Tony Award. York is onstage for much of the musical’s 152 minutes, wisecracking, dancing and singing Porter standards such as “I Get a Kick Out of You,” “Friendship” and “You’re the Top.”
At the end of the first act, York leads a crew of a dozen passengers and dancing sailors from the S.S. American through a six-minute rendition of the show’s signature number, “Anything Goes.” She opens with a lament of the laxness of modern times — that is, 1934 — then launches into nearly three minutes of tapping on the deck of the ship before launching again with a robust: “Anything goes!”
Costar Edward Staudenmayer, who plays foppish Lord Evelyn Oakleigh, says he sometimes sneaks into the audience to watch the spectacle. He’s had a “professional crush” on York, whom he calls “a supermodel who can act, sing and dance,” since he heard her on the cast album of “City of Angels.”
“It makes me so happy to see her absolutely make the number, then gasp for air and grin so widely when it’s over,” Staudenmayer says. “Because I know she’ll do it again in 20 minutes.”
The second act lifts off with another big number. York returns wearing a flame-colored leotard with a gold-fringed skirt, belting the nightclub evangelism showstopper “Blow, Gabriel, Blow.” Her smile doesn’t budge as the applause begins. Her heaving shoulders are the only sign that she has spent a quarter of an hour doing some seriously strenuous cardio.
York’s feet take the most abuse. The dancing in “Anything Goes” includes beveling, which leaves the soles and balls of her feet aching. In the mornings, she feels tension in her neck, back and feet.
Dresser Mary Basile helps York put on 11 costumes during the show. Her longest break is 10 minutes. She uses it to stretch.
After the show, York greets wellwishers backstage. On this Sunday her visitors include actress Marilu Henner, a Broadway alum herself.
During the demanding performances, York says she falls back on muscle memory from a 20-year career. She’s been called a “triple threat” — someone who can act, sing and dance, which musical theater especially cherishes.
York was born in Orlando and moved to Los Angeles to study acting at the American Center for Music Theatre at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. (The center is now in Hollywood.) She settled in New York City in 1988.
She drew attention in her dual role as Mallory Kingsley/Avril Raines in the original Broadway run of “City of Angels” and as Norma Cassidy in the Broadway production of “Victor/Victoria” opposite Julie Andrews.
York has been on Broadway six times. She’s also done three other national tours, including Porter’s “Kiss Me, Kate.” She’s played Reno twice before, in 2002 with the Reprise Theatre Company in Los Angeles and in 2009 at Kansas City’s Starlight Theatre.
The last time York performed on a national tour was 2009-10, when she played Cruella DeVil in the short-lived production of “101 Dalmatians.”
After Olivia was born in February 2011, York took six weeks off from working. She eased back with some smaller productions, includ- ing the musical “Stealing Time” at the PTC Performance Space in New York. She began “Anything Goes” rehearsal a month after she stopped breast-feeding Olivia.
Having a baby had changed her body. Her wrists felt so weak that she struggled with downward-facing dog during yoga. Her hips felt wobbly. Her flexibility was gone.
Either I’m going to get into really great shape, York thought on the first day of rehearsal, or my body is going to fall apart.
At first, she gasped for air during the most strenuous parts of the dance. But after three weeks, her body began to strengthen.
“For many mothers, getting back in shape after pregnancy would be nice, but you just don’t have the time for it,” York says. “I just didn’t have a choice.”
Like many working mothers, maintaining good health seems to fall somewhere below doing a good job at work and spending time with her daughter. Seven hours of sleep a night is non-negotiable. But everything else can be. York often opts to spend time with Olivia rather than do morning strength training or get massages that her body needs to stay fresh. A week and a half ago, she fell sick with a stomach virus that forced her to miss a day of performance.
Small amounts of healthful food also matter. If York eats too much or eats too close to showtime, her costumes — many of them closefitting to begin with — will be a little too snug.
“It can be tough on weekends, when I come off the stage and I’m starving and I have another show to do,” York says. “I want to inhale everything around me. But if I’m not careful, boy, do I pay for it.”
During rehearsal for “Anything Goes,” York relied on coffee until her energy levels started crashing. Now she sticks to green or black tea — mostly. Sunday before the evening show, she can’t resist and has a coffee in her dressing room.
Olivia, who is almost 2, keeps the actress sane as she tackles the physical demands of eight shows a week. So on weekend days, when mother and daughter don’t spend time together in the morning, York makes the drive to her rented home near Griffith Park between shows.
“When you have children late in life, they’re the center of your world,” York says.
At home last Sunday, York eats two bowls of chicken noodle soup and half a container of Greek yogurt. She feeds most of it to Olivia. Dessert is a Clif bar in the car.
York and Olivia use snapped-off crayons to draw monkeys and misshapen balloons. They sing along to their own family repertoire: the “Hot Dog!” song from “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse” (the lyrics: “Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog”) and “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.”
At 5:30 p.m., York stands up from the coffee table and says, “Olivia, Mommy’s gotta go.”
“Dance?” Olivia asks. “We dance?” She shuff les her little tap shoes and bursts into tears.
“Shhh, shhh,” York says. “Mommy will be home soon.”