One of the compromises that you have to make...
...with playing musical theater is that you have to do the dogs alongside of the gems (to mix a metaphor). If you get established with a contractor (and, as an oboe/english horn player, your daughter has an excellent starting position to do this), you need to be willing to answer the bell regardless of the topic or musical content if you want to keep your position.
I suffered through the ultimate acid test one summer up in Illinois, when two different groups put on the same mongrel of a show, Carousel. At the end of twelve shows of that mutt, I was almost ready to send my clarinets to Goodwill.
During one of the productions, I pulled out the loose half of a broken molar in the interval. It was painful (and bloody) to do that, but playing the dragged-out, "Go ahead and return to the spirit worlds and stop getting in the way of the plot" tunes during Act II was so annoying that I didn't even notice the pain.
(The tooth started vibrating in place with some of the tunes, and it was almost more than I could stand. Trooper that I was, I managed. After the second act, I had to clean out my mouthpiece and discard the reed, but the audience never knew anything was wrong.)
But, even though each evening left me wanting to shoot Agnes De Mille for her drawn out, over-wrought, and pointless ballet, I kept on keeping on. I might be cursing the librettist under my breath all the while, but I still delivered the goods.
There are certain shows that you look forward to (like A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum, which she will sooner or later encounter as it is popular with progressive school districts and community theater), and certain shows that you will learn to dread (like 1776, a show with so much time between two of the musical numbers that you have enough time to leave the pit, drive to McDonalds, purchase a meal, send it back when they put mustard on the Quarter Pounder, pick up the correct meal, drive back to the theater, eat, wash your hands, flirt with the (other - there are twenty bars of flute wedged into the clarinet part at the very end) flute player, and still have time to spare when you reenter the pit and silently get your horns warm for the rest of the show.)
And, the "sax" shows are usually much more fun than the pure flute/clarinet/oboe/bassoon ones. The exceptions to this general rule are the Bernstein shows, more specifically Wonderful Town, On The Town, West Side Story, and the least performed but most enjoyable Candide. That man knew how to write (and his arrangers, how to arrange) a jazzy show, even though saxes play a limited role, or in the case of Candide, no saxes at all.
I currently play three or four shows a year, giving me something along the lines of three rehearsals a show. That's not enough to keep bassoon playing up to snuff, but it covers all of the other horns. Of course, I get rehearsal time with the regular band stuff, and your daughter will have her music studies, so it all comes out for the good.
And, as for the seven sharps stuff, you soon learn to cope. My personal worst key signature experience was with "Everything's Coming Up Roses" in Gypsy. Written to suit The Merm's musical limitations, the clarinet part transposed out to seven flats, with page spanning arpeggios. At the end of two lines of that, my fingers were twisted in knots (and that's with a full Boehm horn, mind you), but I got it together in time for the performances.