Graciela Daniele: When I became an associate director at Lincoln Center, Ira Weitzman said to bring him my ideas for new musicals. That was 1991 or 1992, after Once on This Island. When I lived in Paris, I had read Arthur Schnitzler’s La Ronde, and I thought it would make a fantastic chamber musical. Ira said, “I’ve got just the person for you: Michael John LaChiusa.” I had heard the name, but I hadn’t really seen any of his work. So we talked on the phone, and I said, “Would you like to have a meeting?” I thought he was going to say in a week or two weeks, but no, he said, “How about tomorrow?” And then he came to my house with the full first scene written.

Michael John LaChiusa: I played it for her, and she screamed. I thought maybe she was crazy like I was. And she was! I knew in that moment, after playing the scene for her, her response, how excited we got—I knew I had found a soulmate and a friend. She became a mother to me, a friend to me, a guardian angel. It’s been one of these remarkable, remarkable relationships that constantly inspires. We know how to entertain each other.

GD: And we laugh a lot.

MJLC: We do laugh a lot. And we get into trouble sometimes—which is so much fun—both artistically and personally. I find that she always challenges me. And it’s just a thrill ride. You never know what’s up ahead, but you know that you’re in safe hands, because your partner is with you. And you can do absolutely anything you want.

GD: He said exactly what I feel. He challenges me. It’s so inspiring not to do the same thing, the rut. I’ve done everything. I’ve done musicals on Broadway, marvelous stuff, but I always felt like there has to be something more, there has to be something that I’m scared of doing. And he gives me that.

MJLC: Maybe three years ago, I invited her to come and speak to one of the writing classes I was teaching at Columbia University. I like to bring in people who have had successful careers for a long period of time, because it inspires young writers, and they start thinking about their careers long-term. So Grazie goes up there and she’s talking to the students—I’ve known Grazie for so many years at this point, and she’s got so many stories. Funny, funny stories about her mother and her grandmother and her aunt.

GD: Well, a lot of them are not so funny—I just have a very good sense of humor and even in the terrible stories I always find a quirky thing that will make you laugh.

MJLC: So she tells a story that I hadn’t heard before, a real wild one, and after class we go out for a martini—

GD: We have the same drink.

MJLC: A dry martini. So we’re sitting there and I said, “All those stories about you growing up in Argentina? I’m going to write a musical about this stuff.”

GD: No, he said, “I’m going to write a musical about you.” And I said, “No thank you. I do not want to live my life twice.”

MJLC: But I said, “We have to do something with these stories. They’re so much fun, and they’re just so inspiring—those women, those remarkable women.” I went home that night, after our martini, and I wrote the opening scene. And then I felt guilty about it. I meant it as a gift, to honor your women, and to honor you, of course, but I know you don’t like to look back.

GD: I don’t like looking back on myself, but I love to give people the opportunity to know these three women who created me. Because they were very, very extraordinary and special. That was the whole point. When he said he wanted to write a musical about me, I said no, but when it was about these women…

GD: The only thing that scares me is that it is very emotional for me. I’m not sure I’m going to get through some of those moments without crying. But then I just take five minutes and go to the bathroom and we get back to work.

MJLC: It is very personal for Grazie. And it’s a deeply personal gesture for me, writing this for her. But we want to make sure it has a universal feeling.

GD: And I think it does.

MJLC: It’s really about what happens when you are the only one left—how do you remember the people you have lost? And it’s about the people who have shaped us, and how they need to be honored and respected. Anuncia is a way of saying thank you to those who are gone for making us who we are. Especially the women.

GD: First of all, my husband, Jules Fisher, is the lighting designer. I’ve known him for 47 years. He’d better do good work or else I’m not going to cook for him. [laughs] Jules and Peggy Eisenhauer and I have done many, many shows together.

MJLC: And for me, Toni-Leslie James—her costumes sing my songs. On a practical level, the clothes that she builds allow the singers to sing. She’s very conscious of how comfort and support work for a singer’s body.

GD: The new one to me is scenic designer Mark Wendland, who did Rain. I love his ideas. They are not the expected ideas—he makes daring choices. And I think his ideas let us see how memories work. Some memories are extremely vivid in my mind. Some are almost like shadows or silhouettes—they’re vague. You can’t really describe them clearly. So here, the vivid memories happen in the downstage, with color. But in the gardens, upstage, it’s almost like a black-and-white film. By creating this set, Mark allowed me to explore that.

MJLC: Finally!

GD: I think that when I was younger, and I was working so hard, I would think: oh, I’ve gotten 10 Tony nominations, when will I finally get an award? But to me, the award is really the opportunity of making theatre. The theatre I love, theatre like this.