“You know, she's very not ego driven. I sometimes feel like she should be more ego driven, frankly,” her friend Patty told me.  

After speaking with Heidi Rodewald, you would be forgiven for not knowing that in the 1980s she was a member of the successful rock band Wednesday Week. You would also be forgiven for not knowing that for 30 years with her musical partner Stew she worked on over 10 albums, toured extensively, and co-composed and performed several successful shows. It may even remain secret the seven Tony nominations her and Stew’s show “The Passing Strange” earned. Behind a humility, most comfortable quietly playing bass off to the side, hides an ambitious person who has confidently dedicated her life to seeking out her passions and inspirations. 

Heidi Rodewald was born the youngest of three in 1959. At the time, her home of southern California was on the precipice of becoming a music Mecca and already she was prepared. “I think I was playing piano and reading music before I could read,” she said.

The American songbook and rock'n'roll scored the scenes of her childhood. As active members in their church choir and local theater scene, her family was fully immersed in music. During summers, Rodewald tasked herself with learning a new instrument, beginning with the oboe, and over the years the tuba, french horn, trumpet and by high school she played tenor sax in the marching band. Though music composed much of her early life, she never planned on making her life music. In fact, she stumbled into her first band through a pair of sisters she knew looking for a bass player. Rodewald seized the opportunity. She told them she wanted to join, despite not knowing the bass. “I basically lied,” she said. 

Upon graduating high school in 1977, she scoured the streets attending as many concerts as possible motivated by her love of music and “anti-Journey” stance. She drifted aimlessly during these years, playing oboe in the Fullerton College orchestra, taking electronic music courses at Harbor College, and seeing as many concerts as she could. “It's a story you don’t wanna tell to young people,” she joked. 

Eventually, she found her scene amongst the Punks and New-Wave. For her, they were the heart of an exhilarating new moment. They had something bold and visceral to say and did so passionately.

Finding these musical homes was not accidental. She followed the bands she liked, from there, “finding her people and then realizing it all just makes sense.” It might be easy to see this as someone following others, searching for answers. In fact, she may describe it this way herself. But it is not that simple. She explains, “I wanna work on stuff I wanna work on. I wanna be around people I wanna be around.” Though she had no long term goals or plans, she had the more important knowledge of what she liked and where she wanted to be.  

In 1984, an exasperated boyfriend unknowingly brought her to a crossroad. Frustrated she spent all her time just seeing rock bands, he asked her “What are you gonna do?” “I don’t know,” she responded,“ I'll probably join a band.” 

Thus, her “career” began with the post-punk band Wednesday Week playing bass. In founding members, sisters Kristi and Kelly Callan, Rodewald found peers that matched her ambition. She explained she “gravitates towards people who just really want to do it.” Right away the band was touring, not content to wait around for a record deal. Quickly, they were touring extensively, a regular on MTV, opening for bands such as Oingo Boingo, signed with Enigma Records, and released their record “What We Had.”  

But as quick as it began it ended. With life and the band growing increasingly complicated, she left in 1987. Once again she was a free agent with no plan.  

For you or I, being flung back into the ocean with no plan while approaching 30 is a terrifying prospect. But Rodewald is not like you or I. “It's good for me,” she said “I left and then I had to figure out what I was doing…in another kinda sloppy way how I am.” 

After brief stints with several bands, including her short lived band The Novack formed with her first girlfriend Danielle Faye, she seized her next opportunity.  

In 1997, she heard one of her favorite bands, The Negro Problem, formed by fellow southern Californian and rock musician Stew, was looking for a new bassist. This was the first time she “really really wanted something” and “had to get it together.” By her account, she asked a friend in the band to put in a good word. However, Stew revealed her secrets, “On the surface, it's all…sweetness and light, but she actually told me she did…almost like a little campaign.” Rodewald ambitiously worked behind the scenes. “Everybody in the scene recommended her. It was like this unanimously” said Stew. Not only did she bring her musical abilities and enthusiasm for collaboration, she also brought “Resilience and drive and lack of fear,” he elaborated. 

This strength became more important as the band quickly downsized. By 2000, only the duo remained. In their 40s, when most give up rock music for stability, they dived in further. The next years were non-stop touring, writing, and recording.     

“I value her so much as a collaborator and a friend…because we really went through it,” Stew recounted, “We went through it in terms of just the physical stuff we went through…the physicality of just being on the road and having no sleep, being broke a lot.”

Hard work paid off as the two were commissioned by the Public Theater to write their first  musical in 2005. As rock musicians, theater was a new beast and a proud accomplishment. For Rodewald, it was a new opportunity to do what she loved: collaborate and create music. 

Following the direction of no direction, they stumbled towards each new phase in the long process until they found themselves at the 2008 Tonys’. Describing these years, she says “We didn’t plan on all this happening, we kinda just kept rolling with it.” 

However, Rodewald’s humility hides her assuredness. Stew recounted her saying, after finishing the show, “She goes, when I think about the fact that this band ended up, you know, on Broadway, she goes, yeah. It's not unlikely. It makes perfect sense to me…Everybody was like, it's such an unlikely journey. You know, that was the whole theme when we did Passing Strange…”

“And she was like, no… I thought that was really funny and indicative of her,” he said.

In the years since, Passing Strange has become only one of many accomplishments in Rodewald’s winding and prolific career. She and Stew continue to collaborate and she continues seizing new opportunities to create what she wants and be around who she wants. 

Always pushing herself, she celebrated “The Good Swimmer,” her first show as sole composer with lyricist Donna DiNovelli for the Brooklyn Academy of Music in 2018. Boldly, she has never retreated from the instability of her chosen life. “I'm just kind of falling into things and starting something else and just living my life,” she said. 

Speaking with Patty, she described it more succinctly, “You can know Heidi for a while and still totally be surprised by her. She's a closet badass.”