What do you think?
Rate this book
Kiss Me Kate
(Vocal Score). The complete vocal score with 17 songs, including: Another Op'nin', Another Show * Brush up Your Shakespeare * I Hate Men * So in Love * Too Darn Hot * Why Can't You Behave? * Wunderbar * and more.
212 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981
About the author
Cole Porter
517 books7 followersCole Albert Porter (June 9, 1891 – October 15, 1964) was an American composer and songwriter.
Many of his songs became standards noted for their witty, urbane lyrics, and many of his scores found success on Broadway and in Hollywood films.
His works include the musical comedies Kiss Me, Kate (1948) (based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew), Fifty Million Frenchmen, and Anything Goes, as well as songs like "Night and Day", "I Get a Kick out of You", and "I've Got You Under My Skin". He was noted for his sophisticated (sometimes ribald) lyrics, clever rhymes, and complex forms.
He was one of the greatest contributors to the Great American Songbook.
Many of his songs became standards noted for their witty, urbane lyrics, and many of his scores found success on Broadway and in Hollywood films.
His works include the musical comedies Kiss Me, Kate (1948) (based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew), Fifty Million Frenchmen, and Anything Goes, as well as songs like "Night and Day", "I Get a Kick out of You", and "I've Got You Under My Skin". He was noted for his sophisticated (sometimes ribald) lyrics, clever rhymes, and complex forms.
He was one of the greatest contributors to the Great American Songbook.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
July 7, 2026
Kiss Me, Kate has long occupied a unique place in the American musical theater canon. It is at once a sparkling comedy, a love letter to Shakespeare, and a showcase for some of Cole Porter's finest songwriting. At the same time, it is impossible to engage with the musical today without confronting the uncomfortable realities inherited from its source material, The Taming of the Shrew. As much as I genuinely enjoy Kiss Me, Kate, I also recognize that it is a work very much of its time. Like many classics, it asks modern audiences to appreciate its artistry while also questioning the assumptions that underpin it.
The story behind Kiss Me, Kate is almost as entertaining as the musical itself. Premiering on Broadway in 1948, the show emerged from an inspired idea: rather than simply adapting Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, the creative team built a backstage comedy around a theatrical company performing the play. The legendary producer Arnold Saint Subber reportedly suggested the concept after witnessing the famously volatile relationship between actors Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne during a production of Shakespeare. That observation became the foundation for the musical's central premise—a divorced couple playing Petruchio and Katherine onstage while continuing their own romantic battle behind the curtain. It's a wonderfully theatrical device because the boundaries between performance and reality continually blur, allowing the audience to watch two relationships unfold simultaneously.
This framing elevates what might otherwise have been a straightforward adaptation. Shakespeare's original comedy becomes a mirror for the contemporary characters, Fred Graham and Lilli Vanessi, whose own pride, resentment, attraction, and affection echo those of Petruchio and Kate. The audience is constantly reminded that the performers are playing roles while simultaneously living versions of those same conflicts themselves. That layered storytelling remains one of the musical's greatest strengths.
Of course, the source material presents challenges that cannot simply be ignored. The Taming of the Shrew has been debated for centuries because of its portrayal of marriage as a contest in which a woman's independence must ultimately yield to male authority. Whether Shakespeare intended satire, social commentary, or straightforward comedy remains an open question among scholars, but the text itself undeniably reflects patriarchal assumptions that were commonplace in Elizabethan England.
Kiss Me, Kate inherits much of this baggage. Although it adds humor, romance, and self-awareness through its backstage framing, it still relies on many of the same gender dynamics. Fred's controlling tendencies are frequently played for laughs, and Lilli's fiery independence is repeatedly positioned as something to be subdued before reconciliation becomes possible. The musical occasionally winks at these conventions, but it never fully escapes them.
Rather than dismissing either work outright because of these elements, I think they deserve to be revisited critically every generation or two. Great works of art often reveal as much about the societies that produced them as they do about universal human experience. Our understanding of gender, power, consent, and partnership has evolved dramatically since Shakespeare's England and even since postwar America in 1948. Every new production has an opportunity to ask fresh questions: Is Petruchio charming or manipulative? Is Kate defeated or strategically adapting? Does Fred truly learn anything, or does Lilli simply accommodate him? These aren't settled questions, and perhaps they never should be. Revisiting them allows each generation to measure how far society has come while recognizing the work that remains.
Fortunately, Kiss Me, Kate has far more to offer than its problematic gender politics. Above all else, it possesses the extraordinary music of Cole Porter. Porter was one of the rare lyricists whose wit could seem effortless while hiding astonishing craftsmanship. His songs sparkle with internal rhyme, clever wordplay, sophisticated melodies, and emotional nuance. Few composers could move so naturally between broad comedy and heartfelt romance within the same score.
The music is, for me, the true heart of the show. Two songs in particular have always stood out as personal favorites. "I've Always Loved You in My Fashion" is one of Porter's most underrated gems. On the surface, it is comic, built around the wonderfully absurd idea that love can be expressed through practical financial arrangements. Yet beneath the humor lies genuine affection. Porter somehow manages to make a transactional relationship feel oddly sincere, demonstrating his gift for balancing irony with warmth. It is funny because it understands human nature rather than merely mocking it.
Then there is "Brush Up Your Shakespeare," which remains one of the cleverest comedy numbers ever written for the musical stage. It is essentially a nonstop parade of literary puns, cultural references, and delightfully ridiculous advice, all delivered with infectious energy. Every time I hear it, I'm reminded of Porter's extraordinary command of language. The song celebrates Shakespeare while simultaneously poking fun at the reverence surrounding him, making classical literature feel accessible rather than intimidating. It is impossible for me not to smile whenever it begins.
Even beyond those favorites, the score consistently demonstrates why Porter occupies such an important place in American music. Songs like "So in Love," "Too Darn Hot," and "Wunderbar" reveal completely different facets of his talent. He could write aching ballads, irresistible dance numbers, and razor-sharp comedy with equal ease. Few musicals are so richly served by their score.
What ultimately keeps Kiss Me, Kate alive is this combination of theatrical intelligence and musical brilliance. The backstage setting creates opportunities for comedy that remain genuinely funny, while the score continues to delight audiences more than seventy-five years after its premiere. At its best, the musical celebrates the chaos of theater itself—the oversized personalities, backstage mishaps, romantic entanglements, and the strange magic that occurs when performance and reality collide.
Still, I don't think enjoying the musical requires overlooking its flaws. In fact, I think acknowledging those flaws makes the experience richer. We don't honor classic works by pretending they are perfect; we honor them by engaging with them honestly. Kiss Me, Kate succeeds because it offers enough artistic excellence to justify that conversation. Its humor, structure, and unforgettable music continue to entertain, even as its treatment of gender invites criticism and reinterpretation.
In the end, my feelings about Kiss Me, Kate are both affectionate and complicated. I admire its craftsmanship, I love Cole Porter's incomparable score, and I continue to find enormous pleasure in its theatrical inventiveness. At the same time, I can't ignore that both it and The Taming of the Shrew are products of cultures whose assumptions about gender now deserve careful scrutiny. That tension doesn't diminish my enjoyment; if anything, it makes the musical more interesting. Like all enduring classics, Kiss Me, Kate reflects both the timeless and the temporary. Its music remains vibrant, its comedy often lands beautifully, and its questions about love and performance still resonate. But its ideas about power within relationships reveal the passage of time. It is a musical I enjoy immensely, even as I recognize that, in some important ways, it unmistakably shows its age.
The story behind Kiss Me, Kate is almost as entertaining as the musical itself. Premiering on Broadway in 1948, the show emerged from an inspired idea: rather than simply adapting Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, the creative team built a backstage comedy around a theatrical company performing the play. The legendary producer Arnold Saint Subber reportedly suggested the concept after witnessing the famously volatile relationship between actors Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne during a production of Shakespeare. That observation became the foundation for the musical's central premise—a divorced couple playing Petruchio and Katherine onstage while continuing their own romantic battle behind the curtain. It's a wonderfully theatrical device because the boundaries between performance and reality continually blur, allowing the audience to watch two relationships unfold simultaneously.
This framing elevates what might otherwise have been a straightforward adaptation. Shakespeare's original comedy becomes a mirror for the contemporary characters, Fred Graham and Lilli Vanessi, whose own pride, resentment, attraction, and affection echo those of Petruchio and Kate. The audience is constantly reminded that the performers are playing roles while simultaneously living versions of those same conflicts themselves. That layered storytelling remains one of the musical's greatest strengths.
Of course, the source material presents challenges that cannot simply be ignored. The Taming of the Shrew has been debated for centuries because of its portrayal of marriage as a contest in which a woman's independence must ultimately yield to male authority. Whether Shakespeare intended satire, social commentary, or straightforward comedy remains an open question among scholars, but the text itself undeniably reflects patriarchal assumptions that were commonplace in Elizabethan England.
Kiss Me, Kate inherits much of this baggage. Although it adds humor, romance, and self-awareness through its backstage framing, it still relies on many of the same gender dynamics. Fred's controlling tendencies are frequently played for laughs, and Lilli's fiery independence is repeatedly positioned as something to be subdued before reconciliation becomes possible. The musical occasionally winks at these conventions, but it never fully escapes them.
Rather than dismissing either work outright because of these elements, I think they deserve to be revisited critically every generation or two. Great works of art often reveal as much about the societies that produced them as they do about universal human experience. Our understanding of gender, power, consent, and partnership has evolved dramatically since Shakespeare's England and even since postwar America in 1948. Every new production has an opportunity to ask fresh questions: Is Petruchio charming or manipulative? Is Kate defeated or strategically adapting? Does Fred truly learn anything, or does Lilli simply accommodate him? These aren't settled questions, and perhaps they never should be. Revisiting them allows each generation to measure how far society has come while recognizing the work that remains.
Fortunately, Kiss Me, Kate has far more to offer than its problematic gender politics. Above all else, it possesses the extraordinary music of Cole Porter. Porter was one of the rare lyricists whose wit could seem effortless while hiding astonishing craftsmanship. His songs sparkle with internal rhyme, clever wordplay, sophisticated melodies, and emotional nuance. Few composers could move so naturally between broad comedy and heartfelt romance within the same score.
The music is, for me, the true heart of the show. Two songs in particular have always stood out as personal favorites. "I've Always Loved You in My Fashion" is one of Porter's most underrated gems. On the surface, it is comic, built around the wonderfully absurd idea that love can be expressed through practical financial arrangements. Yet beneath the humor lies genuine affection. Porter somehow manages to make a transactional relationship feel oddly sincere, demonstrating his gift for balancing irony with warmth. It is funny because it understands human nature rather than merely mocking it.
Then there is "Brush Up Your Shakespeare," which remains one of the cleverest comedy numbers ever written for the musical stage. It is essentially a nonstop parade of literary puns, cultural references, and delightfully ridiculous advice, all delivered with infectious energy. Every time I hear it, I'm reminded of Porter's extraordinary command of language. The song celebrates Shakespeare while simultaneously poking fun at the reverence surrounding him, making classical literature feel accessible rather than intimidating. It is impossible for me not to smile whenever it begins.
Even beyond those favorites, the score consistently demonstrates why Porter occupies such an important place in American music. Songs like "So in Love," "Too Darn Hot," and "Wunderbar" reveal completely different facets of his talent. He could write aching ballads, irresistible dance numbers, and razor-sharp comedy with equal ease. Few musicals are so richly served by their score.
What ultimately keeps Kiss Me, Kate alive is this combination of theatrical intelligence and musical brilliance. The backstage setting creates opportunities for comedy that remain genuinely funny, while the score continues to delight audiences more than seventy-five years after its premiere. At its best, the musical celebrates the chaos of theater itself—the oversized personalities, backstage mishaps, romantic entanglements, and the strange magic that occurs when performance and reality collide.
Still, I don't think enjoying the musical requires overlooking its flaws. In fact, I think acknowledging those flaws makes the experience richer. We don't honor classic works by pretending they are perfect; we honor them by engaging with them honestly. Kiss Me, Kate succeeds because it offers enough artistic excellence to justify that conversation. Its humor, structure, and unforgettable music continue to entertain, even as its treatment of gender invites criticism and reinterpretation.
In the end, my feelings about Kiss Me, Kate are both affectionate and complicated. I admire its craftsmanship, I love Cole Porter's incomparable score, and I continue to find enormous pleasure in its theatrical inventiveness. At the same time, I can't ignore that both it and The Taming of the Shrew are products of cultures whose assumptions about gender now deserve careful scrutiny. That tension doesn't diminish my enjoyment; if anything, it makes the musical more interesting. Like all enduring classics, Kiss Me, Kate reflects both the timeless and the temporary. Its music remains vibrant, its comedy often lands beautifully, and its questions about love and performance still resonate. But its ideas about power within relationships reveal the passage of time. It is a musical I enjoy immensely, even as I recognize that, in some important ways, it unmistakably shows its age.
June 28, 2017
Got to see a revival of this excellent musical on Broadway. It's sweet, breezy with a classic Cole Porter collection of songs. A real throwback to a time when musicals had panache and wonderfully crafted music.
April 29, 2008
Delightful to see, but please take care to turn off your brain in advance. Cole Porter's biggest serious miscall was thinking that "Wunderbar" was in any way an appropriate love song in which to get his ingenues back together.
June 9, 2010
What I learned is that even Cole Porter's amazing score can't make up for some very obvious problems with the book itself.
What I learned from DIRECTING this musical is another story entirely.
What I learned from DIRECTING this musical is another story entirely.
July 3, 2010
This was my first theater solo. I sanf Another Opening Another Show as "Hattie". 1995
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews