Saturday, March 19, 2011

And a Great Time Was Had by All

Doric Wilson at the Caffe Cino, March 18, 1961
(Time Magazine photo)


On March 18, 1961, my comedy And He Made a Her, a feminist take on Adam and Eve, opened at the Caffe Cino on Cornellia Street. It was directed by Paxton Whitehead and starred Jane Lowry as Eve. It was a huge hit. The success, in the words of playwright Robert Patrick, “helped establish the Cino as a venue for new plays, and materially contributed to the then-emerging concept of Off-Off-Broadway.” It also began my career.

On Wednesday, March 16, 2011, Rick Hinkson produced for TOSOS, in association with United Stages, a cabaret celebration of my fifty years as a playwright at Phil Bond’s Laurie Beechman Theatre on 42nd Street. It was directed by Mark Finley with musical direction by Steve Ross. Jennifer Marie Russo was stage manager. The cast included some of this cities very best performers (they are all listed below) and anyone who was there will tell you it was an absolutely astonishing evening. (I have asked the cast and audience to comment below). What follows are my program notes (slightly amended) for the evening.

Proud To Know You Program Notes

I love many things and many people. I love New York City, literature from the Greeks to the late 1940s, old fashioned authentic leather bars, almost all paintings and sculpture, Terry Pratchett, all history ancient to modern, Manhattan cocktails straight up, Ben and Jerry ice cream, Jane Lowry, the list is endless. I only “like” theater, it is difficult to love an addiction. I do love doing it.

I particularly love cabaret and opera. My first night in this city I went to a club called the Living Room where Kaye Ballard’s accompanist picked me up. Since then I love all piano men. I also love all lady cabaret singers. Over and over again, they rip out my heart and shred it and scatter it asunder and then the opera singers thunder on stage and stomp all over the pieces! No wonder I have never had a lover. Reality could never compare with the Great American Songbook (not to mention Puccini).

I am very honored by the line-up for tonight’s entertainment. Not only because they are all extremely talented performers, but because they are all my friends – some of them almost forever. I am also proud that the actors and some of the singers come from TOSOS, my theater company. If the evening seems to slip and slide on the edge of rampant nostalgia, that’s what happens when you celebrate a person who just turned 72 years of age.

Mark Finley, artistic director of TOSOS, and director of this evening, starts the show. Mark is by far the best director I have ever met. And the only director I know who can make play readings exciting. Stop by one of the Chesley/Chambers evenings and you will see what I mean. He is also a very talented playwright. He also owns Simon, the cat who rules the world. (To get on the TOSOS list, email tosos@nyc.rr.com.)

I met Rick Hinkson, tonight’s producer and master of ceremonies, in Seattle in the 1980s when I convinced him to play a villain in my play Street Theater. He was heart broken if the audience didn’t hiss him as he exited the stage. His most recent credit was directing The Best of Jim Caruso's Cast Party, produced by musical theater hero Scott Siegel, at Town Hall in mid-February. It starred Liza Minnelli (looking spectacular), Chita Rivera, Lucie Arnaz, and Marilyn Maye among many others. It is already near the top of legendary NYC evenings. Trust me, no one hissed.

Tribute Video. Created by New York Innovative Theatre Awards in 2007 when they presented me with their lifetime Artistic Achievement Award. (This was followed by a surprise video from the Holy High Gate Keeper of the Cino Legacy, Robert Patrick - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-WpgBLYIyc)

1.) Jamie Heinlein, Eve’s speech from And He Made a Her. I cannot even begin to say how much I love Jamie Heinlein. I only need to think of her name and I smile. And if I think of her on stage I smile even wider. As And He Made a Her began my career, it is only appropriate that a speech from the play opens this show. Critic Jonathan Warman wrote of the recent revival “Many, many plays and musicals have been written about this duo, most of them beyond dreadful. And He Made Her is easily the best play on the subject I've ever seen.” And He Made Her is published by United Stages and includes a 1961 recording of the Cino production with Jane Lowry, Gary Filsinger, and Paxton Whitehead and an announcement by Joe Cino. Tonight Eve expresses her profound disappointment at Adam’s refusal to play “the game.”

2.) Michael Lynch, “Havin' a Party” (Janis Ian, additional text Michael Lynch). In 1983 in the bowels of the notorious Mineshaft, Michael took permanent possession of the role of Boom Boom in Street Theater, a role he will be repeating this summer at the GLBT Center as part of Pride Week. A loyal friend and confirmed vegetarian I know of no one with more dignity nor determination nor generosity of heart. The song he sings is from his autobiographical show Livin’ on the Real, a HUGE success at this year’s HOT! Festival at Dixon Place. He is accompanied by his long-time collaborator, Steve Kaufman.

3.) Morry Campbell, “On My Own” (from his album long way home) I respect few people more than I respect Morry. Over a decade ago he survived a life shattering experience that more or less forced him to reinvent himself. This he did with such ease only his lover, Barry Childs, knows the real price he paid. With the help of Ronny Lee he perfected his guitar playing and began writing fiercely original songs. His album long way home is available from cdbaby.com and a new collection is due shortly. Or search for him on iTunes. ( http://morryc.com/bio.html)

4.) Aaron Tone and J.Stephen Brantley, in a scene from A Perfect Relationship. Aaron and J.Stephen were both in David Parr's hysterically funny Slap&Tickle last summer in Provincetown. Aaron was also featured in James Edwin Parker's internationally acclaimed 2 Boys in a Bed on a Cold Winter's Night. Everything you could possibly want to know about J.Stephen may be learned by visiting www.jstephenbrantley.com or www.HardSparks.com. A Perfect Relationship is the least political of all my plays. In the early 1980s it was to open off-Broadway at the Lortel with plans to move it uptown. It was to be first the big gay “crossover” play and my at long last big break. And then AIDS hit, and it was far too sexually explicit for the times that followed. Oddly it has become a huge hit in India for the last few years where it has become very political indeed, partly responsible for some major liberation gains there. Ward (Aaron) and Greg (J.Stephen) are strictly roommates, no love, no nothing. And then a trick named Barry moves in on their lives and tears their non-relationship apart. Not to mention taking over their apartment. Ward has just discovered that Greg and Barry have...well you get the picture. (PS - the play could have been written for Aaron and
J.Stephen)

5.) Steve Ross, “Here's to Us” (Cy Coleman & Carolyn Leigh, Little Me, 1962). Cabaret legend Steve Ross is everyone’s favorite piano man. In the best show rooms of London, Paris, and New York City he is called the “crown prince of cabaret.” He just finished his annual run at the Algonquin and has generously not only volunteered to be Music Director for tonight but also accompanist. Look up words like class, charm or debonair in any dictionary – you should find his name is the first definition. His upcoming schedule is far too busy to fit here. Instead go to http://www.steveross.net/

6.) Lodi Carr, “For All We Know” (J. Fred Coots & Sam M. Lewis, 1934). Stand next to Lodi and her joie de vivre will surge through you like a lightning strike. She has lived a life that makes Auntie Mame look like a recluse. She has so much energy, just thinking about her as I write this makes me need a nap. She has had a long career as a jazz ballad singer. You can hear her most every Monday night at Jim Caruso's Cast Party. Also keep an eye on Don’t Tell Mama for a possible show. Her album (Lady Bird) is available from cdbaby.com. She is accompanied by jazz piano great Jon Weber.

7.) Zachary Stains, “All the Things You Are” (Jerome Kern & Oscar Hammerstein II, Very Warm for May, 1939). Zack showed up at my birthday party two years ago and we have been friends ever since. Opera fans know him in the role of Hercules on the DVD of Vivaldi’s Ercole sul Termodonte at the Spoleto Festival (get it on Netflix). He is busy working on Victor Herbert - Never Before Recorded Songs. This is a huge project which includes singers like Rebecca Luker, cellist Jerry Grossman, and award winning sound engineer Judith Sherman. New World Records plans to release the first CD in the fall of 2011. (http://www.zacharystains.com/)

8.) Alex Bond, Muriel’s speech from A Perfect Relationship: Alex is my most recent “bff.” In June she and David L. Carson will read selections from her novel Late Nights with the Boys: Confessions of a Leather Bar Chanteuse as part of the 2011 Planet Connections Festivities as a fund-raiser for PFLAG. In A Perfect Relationship Muriel makes her living renting and then subletting apartments, until Barry manages to get the lease for Greg and Ward’s apartment in his name. When Barry offers them his old apartment, it is the last straw for Muriel. (http://www.alexbond.org/)

9.) Susan Marie Pierson, “Dich teure Halle” (Elisabeth's aria from Wagner’s Tannhäuser). I met Susan at the Met. Where else do you meet a Wagnerian soprano? If you know me, you knew there had to be opera here tonight (pace, Janet). Susan’s credits include seven separate Ring Cycles. Her debut as Isolde in Tristan und Isolde is recorded by Titanic Records. She is one of those flawlessly perfect people who, like Rick Hinkson, Zachary Stains, and myself, are products of the Pacific Northwest. (http://www.susanmariepierson.com/piersonbiography.htm)

10.) KT Sullivan, (a medley of 29 songs). I am going to quote my blog post for March 26 of last year: “KT Sullivan may very well be the last of the Great Dames of the New York stage (Lillian Russell, Anna Held, etc.). She is by far the sultriest. She has eyes that would force Hoffmann to write a whole new tale, a complexion to shame a porcelain doll, and what a voice. If Cleopatra could sing like this, Caesar would never have gone back to Rome. There should be baskets and baskets and baskets of Cartier, Van Cleef, and Tiffany trinkets waiting for her nightly at the stage door. She has a long list of CDs. Buy them all. Tonight’s medley is from “Rhyme, Women & Song” her upcoming engagement at the Algonquin’s Oak Room Supper Club May 3rd to 28th. She is accompanied by Jon Weber.

11.) Christopher Borg, Lane’s speech from Now She Dances! Borg’s subtle, quiet, understated, low-key performances explain a recent review that described him as “over the top and half way up the next mountain.” He is also one of my all-time favorite actors. If I were smart (and younger) I would write all my plays for him (and his lover Desmond Dutcher). Now She Dances! is by far my strangest play and perhaps my best. It began at the Cino as a one act and after almost 40 years of rewrites, the two act version opened in 2000 in Glasgow. (Steve Bottoms directed) It is a nightmarish metaphor for the trial of Oscar Wilde, blending characters from Wilde's Salome and The Importance of Being Earnest with a Post-Modernist America. Lane, the butler from Ernest, here acting as the major domo from Salome, reminisces on his childhood at “Palestine Walk,” Sir Herod’s stately home. (Now She Dances! is published by United Stages.)

12.) Joanne Beretta, “My Favorite Year” (Michele Brourman & Karen Gottlieb); “My Shining Hour” (Harold Arlen & Johnny Mercer). In 1961 I walked into the Showplace in the Village. At the piano sat John Wallowitch playing “Mona Lisa” with an enigmatic smile on his face. They announced Joanne Beretta, she walked onto the stage and my heart never belonged to me again. For the longest time I never got much past her eyes. Watch out for them, they will take you to a world far far away and you will never come home. (I love you, Miss KK).

13.) Karen Stanion, the “Soup Speech” from Now She Dances! It is a wise playwright who casts Karen Stanion. You don’t really need even write the play because the moment Karen walks on stage, the audience more or less stops listening and just looks. Throughout the 1960s the “Soup Speech” was such a popular audition speech eventually casting notices asked actors to refrain from using it. In the play, Gladys, the maid, describes her career as a “theatrical domestic.”

I knew the late songwriter John Wallowitch since 1959. I first saw him sitting at a table with Marlon Brando in the legendary Baq Room of singer Janice Mars. In 2006, Mark Finley conceived a brilliant revue of John Wallowitch’s songs for TOSOS called New York Minutes. It was a huge hit, got rave reviews and John adored it. (Phil, it is ripe for revival.) Two of the original cast reprise songs they sang in the show.

14.) Robert Locke, “I See The World Through Your Eyes” (John Wallowitch) If I hadn’t gone to Billy Hoffman’s birthday party I would never have met the ever jouvenesent Robert Locke who would not have later introduced me to Mark Finley. The revival of TOSOS would never have happened. And I would not now be finishing a new play. And we would not be here tonight. So you can thank Robert for your being here. In fact you should have the waiter hand him your check. Thursday, April 7th, at 10:00-midnight the Robert Locke Trio will be performing at the Thalia CafĂ©, 2537 Broadway at 95th Street (thaliacafe.com)

15.) Chris Weikel, “I Live Alone Again” (John Wallowitch). This is perhaps the song by John I love the most. (Remember my shredded heart?) Mr. Weikel is right next to Lanford Wilson (and Noel Coward) as my favorite playwright. He is also a great actor and singer and costume designer. Along with Jamie Heinlien, Robert Locke, and Karen Stanion, he is a founder of the revived TOSOS. (PS - I should have added G. B. Shaw to my list of playwrights.)

16.) Steve Ross (New York medley ) “Take Me Back to Manhattan;” “I Happen to Like New York” (Cole Porter, The New Yorkers, 1930)

17.) Special guest star Supreme Diva and Divine Sister Charles Busch introduces Doric Wilson with a brilliant take-off of the Judy Garland "You Made me Love You" fan letter to Clark Gable.

Doric Wilson jumps out of the window. As this is the basement, I don’t go far. Much like my uptown career. In 1961, Bernie Hart warned me not to get involved in Greenwich Village, he said I would never make it back uptown. I guess tonight doesn’t really count.

18.) Steve Ross and company, “This Moment” (John Wallowitch).

Tonight is dedicated to Jane Lowry who walked down the aisle between the tables as Eve and and made this all begin. And to Gary Filsinger who played the right-wing angel Disenchantralista, anticipating the Tea Party Movement by almost 50 years. (They are both in the background of the cover photo.) And to Janet McHugh who was sitting in the audience at the Caffe Cino in March 1961. And to Joe Regan who saw a performance even before the Cino when And He Made a Her played a block and a half from here at a gathering of a theater group called New Voices. (Paxton Whitehead came from the curtain of The Importance of Being Earnest to join us.)

Perhaps I can make it for another 50 years. We all went upstairs to the bar and tried to swipe money from the tip jar of TOSOS playwright member and West Bank Cafe bartender David Bell.

Like it says at the top, a great time was had by all.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Give a girl a ride


Harvey Fierstein - a friend for years - has just gone into the cast of his show La Cage aux Folles. I saw the show in the 1980s and through I liked the cast I hated the production. From what I had been hearing about this new version, it sounded as it they had at last gotten it right. So I was very pleased when a nameless person (who invested in the show) offered to take me two nights before my birthday. He also offered to take me to dinner after.

I left my apartment at 7 to go down to Ninth Ave to get a cab. (They aren’t all that easy to get before show time) I had the email with the address the nameless person had given me - which at the time seemed a bit odd for a theater, but I stupidity didn’t check - clutched in my soon to be frozen little hand. It was very cold, and what little is left of my heart began muttering loudly.

There were no cabs. And even more no cabs.
At the last possible minute a car service stopped and offered to take me for $15. I had no choice. We arrived at the address nameless person had given me exactly at 8 pm. I go out, he drove away, I looked around - and realized why the address (48 btw 6th and 5th) had looked odd. I was on the side street next to Rockefeller Center. Instantly my chest got tighter that it has in years and I couldn't stand up. So I sat down on the pavement.

I discovered in this city the moment your butt hits the pavement you instantly become invisible. A faceless invisible homeless person. If I were dying, and I was not sure I wasn’t, lots of luck. Suddenly a pigeon landed next to me and looked very concerned for me and I stared laughing which made me even more invisible. They don't like hearing laughter coming from invisible people.

As soon as I could I got up and into a cab and got home still with the very tight chest. I sat on the steps in my hallway for about a half of an hour until I could go up. After I got warm the chest relaxed, still muttering about going out in the first place. I didn’t get to see Harvey. And I still did not get dinner! The moral is simple, when a nameless person gives you an address, double check it. And pack a lunch.

To the disappointment of my cousin Rae, no firemen were involved.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

The Winter of My Disconnect


About a week before Christmas the hard drive of my computer decided to go bye-bye, taking all my files with it. And it seems my back up system, with out informing me, had stopped backing over a year ago. I got a loaner computer from Super Hero Ed (my computer guy).

Two days after Christmas I woke up to no television, no online access and no phone (except my cell phone). It took five days before I could actually get through to a human being at Time-Warner (my server) to discover somewhere in the city someone demolishing a building cut the cable and brought down a large chunk of the west side of Manhattan. So here I sat, somewhat stranded, no TV, no Internet, no regular phone, and a loaner computer.

And then the snows came. And came. And came. I did make it out Christmas day to dinner with Zachary Stains and an inadvertent "All About Eve" holiday party at Charles Busch’s Abington Square apartment where he and Michael Riedel faced off in the middle of the room and...(but you have all seen the film)

The day after Christmas, Leicester Landon took me to see Brian Bedford, a long time acquaintance, in an historic performance as Lady Bracknell (photo above) in The Importance of Being Earnest. He and it were wonderful, a must see. Paxton Whitehead, my director and roommate from 1960s, is also in the production as the Rev. Chasuble and at the top of his form. All he is missing is the biretta.

So on New Year’s Eve here I sat on Ninth Avenue my thumb in my mouth as the mob hooted and tooted beneath my window on their way to Times Square. I decided to call people I knew and loved to wish them a happy New Year! What a great idea. Except I no longer have an address book. It was on that hard drive. (Along with the TOSOS mailing list)

An half hour before 12 I decided to play a CD on one of my single last connections to civilization, my CD player. My sound system swallowed the CD and suddenly stopped working. You would have been amazed how calm I remained (after I kicked my foot through the wall). I unplugged the player and upended it, shook it, and the CD slipped out. (The machine now whimpers whenever I walk past it) One minute after midnight I went to bed with a book. And I can not tell you how happy it made me that it was a book and not some electronic substitute!

The next day my apartment had no heat nor hot water. The day after for no reason and with no warning the power in my building went off for five hours. And I was right back where I started. No television, no online access, no phone, and this time no CD player, DVDs, or even the ability to read a book in bed.

But by Saturday with heat and power I was online again. And it was snowing again! But Leicester Landon and his semi-spectacular BF were back in town and invited me out to dinner (Zuni!). I was just finishing my shower when suddenly the full force of the cold water gushed from the shower head - the faucet was broken and it would not turn off. So freezing and sopping wet I stumbled around my apartment searching for my pliers - my mother’s voice echoing in my ear "If you would just put things back where they belong..."

I live in an old railroad apartment. Back in the 1960s the tenant (an actor) threw out the old bathtub in the kitchen and installed (on cinder blocks) an ancient fiberglass shower stall. I was sure replacement parts no longer exited. That the plumber would smile patiently at me and suggest I become friendly with my next door neighbor. So I opened my door to the reality that I would never ever have a shower again. Before me stood a young man from Guatemala with a tool box and very little English. He took one look at my fiberglass monstrosity, and tears filled his eyes and he said "home! I am home!" He had it fixed in five minutes.

So as of yesterday I have my old computer back and today I am reinstalling (etc).

Just to be safe I am in the market for one or two virgins to sacrifice to the Gods of Technology! (And I have promised never to use the name of Bill Gates in vain. Or Thomas Edison, for that matter!)

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Very Funny

David Parr

Last Monday evening at the TOSOS Robert Chesley/Jane Chambers Playwright Project, forever elfin David Drake presented a reading of David Parr’s Slap&Tickle. It had a perfect cast: Stephen Bienskie, J. Stephen Brantley, Todd Flaherty, Joseph Mahan, and Aaron Tone (Drake also stood in for a role). It was a HUGE hit. A sold out audience roared its approval. But the star of the evening was the playwright David Parr. He is a very funny playwright. A very, very funny playwright. A very, very, very funny playwright. An extremely very, very, very funny playwright. Perhaps even too funny. Perhaps even way too funny. As one funny playwright to another, perhaps Parr should concentrate on blank verse drama. Symbolic blank verse drama. Tragedy even. In Sanskrit.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Take One for the Team


Asher Brown, 13, Seth Walsh, 13, and Justin Aaberg committed
suicide in 2010 in the face of anti-gay bullying.

Something about my past I was sure I would never consider telling, I am now going to write about. Only a very few people know a small part of this. It seemed far too private and it was so very long ago. It did have a huge impact on who I am now, but recounting it seemed to serve no purpose and was best just forgotten. The suicides and bashings of the past few weeks have made it imperative that I reconsider. In fact it has become impossible for me not share.

This is just for background: The important matter comes later. My freshman and sophomore years of high school were spent in a private school on the west coast of Washington State. I came home to Kennewick for my junior and senior year. Kennewick High was a bit of a shock after St. Martin’s, but I was making great grades and I had some great teachers. And it seemed that it would be OK.

It was the great grades that started the whole problem. I have no idea how people are graded now, but back then it was “on the curve.” And it seems I was setting the curve high. Some of the school’s best athletes were in some of my classes. And because of me bumping up the curve, they were dropping a whole grade and therefore ineligible to play sports. And they were not happy Jocks.

One of the coaches (he was also a teacher of mine) was equally not happy about losing players he had been depending on to win games. So one day in class he must has looked at me and realized I was letting down the team. He took some of his players aside and suggested that they should take me aside and “convince” me to not be so “smart in class.” So they waited after school and beat me up.

I should mention I had been out since I was 13, but not necessarily obvious. And this attack was not overtly homophobic. That I was different was crime enough. I loved to read, I painted pictures, I acted with the local theater group, I was not athletic as either a participant or a supporter. Horror of horrors, I even liked opera! In other words, I was different. And I did get great grades and that alone deserved a kick in the head.

Now this was the 1950s and to paraphrase the song, “folks were if not dumb where I come from, they weren’t really all that smart.” They probably didn’t know the word “faggot” back then, they certainly didn’t use it. The worst they could come up as they kicked me was “smart ass” and “egg head.” They took special pleasure with “egg head,” snarling it at me as if it were the nastiest insult of all. The number of kicks that actually connected were few and far between. (Emplaning a lot about their competence on the playing field.) I survived. (I told my Mon I had fallen off my bike.)

I was told to stop getting good grades or this just be my first of many “workouts.” A girl who had been jilted by one of my “new found friends,” ratted on the cause and source of my encounter. I immediately failed the coach’s class to get away from him. And I pulled back in my other classes. Not that this was difficult, as I was becoming so active with the Richland players, and painting, and cruising the toilets of the Pasco train station, I had almost no interest in school work.

[sidebar: On two separate occasions I saw two of my “new found friends” enter the toilets late at night and stay a good forty-five minutes. There was probably a perfectly innocent explanation why at 2 a.m. they needed to use a john in a train station on the far side of a town across the Columbia River from where they actually lived. I did not let them see me. I did make a mental note of the furtive way they left.]

For two years my “new found friends” continued to wait for me after school. I was so clever in finding secret ways to get home from school they only caught me twice again. And their aim had not improved. I was so tempted to mention the Pasco train station. But I didn’t. Not only was I clever, I was smart.

The above is only prologue to my post.

The second person I ever had sex with was 17. I was 15. We had one happy summer riding our bikes. I suppose in an adolescent way, we were in love with each other. (Or as close as you could get to love in the Tri-Cities in the 1950s) I will call him Tim. He lived in a righteous God-fearing American family. His father (a proud member of the NRA) was a hunter and had bought Tim a shotgun when he was ten. Tim got very good with it and won a number of marksmanship contests. He became the apple of his father’s eye.

Or until his father and mother caught him being fucked in the family rec room. Being good Christians, they knew exactly what to do with an errant apple. They made plans to send him off to a hospital near Tacoma where he would be given a lobotomy. (A popular curative of the period for uppity women and non aggressive boys—I am told the tea-baggers are eager to reestablish this particular procedure.) Tim would come home no longer a fruit. He would come home no longer much of anything.

As soon as Tim could escape the loving concern of his parents, he came to warn me that what he and I were doing was wrong and a sin and an abomination and that if I did love him I would stop doing it immediately because he could not bear to think what his family was about to do to him would ever be done to me. He then went home and shot himself in the head. Tim’s father proved the old adage right: guns don’t kill people, people kill people. And he should know–he had caused his son to die, not the shogun.

Tim’s death was explained as a hunting accident. A common yearly occurrence where I grew up. Exact what he had been hunting in the family rec room was never fully explained. The coach later moved into our neighborhood, almost next door. His son grew an extensive crop of healthy marijuana plants behind the roses. He was to became one of the town’s major drug dealers. I heard he went to prison for rape.

As for Tim, I don’t even have a photo of him.

Please consider supporting the Trevor Project:
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/

PS - Years later I discovered that my mother (one very smart cookie) did not buy my “bicycle accident” explanation. She knew exactly what had happened and went to the high school to complain. She was told that a little bullying was healthy for a growing boy. What she didn’t know at the time was that the vice-principal she confronted was the same coach who had set the “dogs” on me in the first place.


Saturday, July 31, 2010

Man walks into a bar with a pineapple...


Honorary Golden Pineapple Awards presented by N Y Artists Unlimited (23 July 2010)

l to r: Sherry Eaker, Israel Horovitz, Tony Spinosa, Melba LaRose, Doric Wilson, Ellie Covan and Charles Busch (Photo by Joseph Marzullo/WENN)

Friday, March 26, 2010

A Shoe Full of Champagne


Mark Nadler & KT Sullivan
“Gershwin…Here to Stay”

When the Stature of Liberty climbed out of the ocean in 1886, she found a Manhattan that already had an abundance of dames. Which explains why she wisely constrained herself to an island out in the harbor. Way back to Jenny Lind, this city loves its theatrical ladies. I just spent a week indexing a book on the Flatiron Building* which focused me on the Gay Nineties to the Grim 1930s. So Lillian Russell and Anna Held were much on my mind (and in the book) when I joined Rick Hinkson and Zachary Stains in the Oak Room of the Algonquin last Saturday night.

I vaguely remember hearing a recording of Lillian Russell and seeing a glimpse of Anna Held in an old film. I have no clear idea what either lady was like except that everywhere they went they were bombarded with orchids, drenched in Champagne, and followed by gentlemen offering them bushel baskets overflowing with diamonds. But regardless of what you may have heard to the contrary, when it comes these legendary ladies, the furthest I go back is to Sophie Tucker, Pearl Bailey, and the ever diffident Miss Merman. (I WAS NOT at Castle Clinton the night Jenny Lind made her debut.)

KT Sullivan may very well be the last of these Great Dames of the New York stage. She is by far the sultriest. She has eyes that would force Hoffmann to write a whole new tale, a complextion to shame a porcelain doll, and what a voice. If Cleopatra could sing like this, Caesar would never have gone back to Rome, Salome could gather her heads where she may without removing a stitch, and Delilah would have no need for scissors. There should be baskets and baskets and baskets of Cartier, Van Cleef, and Tiffany whatnots waiting for her nightly.

Mark Nadler has arranged and directed this George Gershwin evening. The Oak Room is long and narrow with the piano against one wall in the middle and most of the audience left and right. Not exactly audience friendly, it can have an isolating effect. The Caffe Cino, much smaller, presented the same problem. Nadler’s solution was much the same that I used downtown fifty years ago. He wisely employs the whole room from entrances at either end to the aisles, even to the tables. (Miss Sullivan occasionally prowls about, a leopard off its leash) The result was to draw the audience in to a warm and intimate embrace. We were at his private party.

Mark Nadler is the quintessential stage door Johnny (complete with spats). To be in the same room with him is to be dressed in white tie and tails out on a night-on-the-town. He managed to conjure everything but a chorus line. He did pull a second pianist (the marvelous Jon Weber) out of his top hat. And together they performed an astonishing moment of music. Perhaps the most important moment of music heard in this city on that night. Jon Weber joined Mark Nadler in his piano-four hand arrangement of Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F. And the world stood still to listen.

A footnote: Speaking of music that stops the world in its tracks, I had been at the Algonquin a few weeks earlier for "Puttin' On the Ritz," piano man Steve Ross’s celebration of songs associated with Fred Astaire. Steve Ross is the toast of cities major to minor from here to the Antipodes. He also may be the nicest person I have ever met. He is such a perfect fit to this music, by the end of the show, it was as if his piano was dancing with Astaire.

KT Sullivan & Mark Nadler:
“Gershwin…Here to Stay”
Tue–Thu at 8:30pm , Fri, Sat at 8:30pm & 11pm
ongoing through April 10.
The Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel
59 W 44th St (212-419-9331)
Tickets: $50 plus $30 minimum.

There is an earlier post on KT Sullivan in this Blog for September 30, 2008, under the title “Come to the Cabaret.”

*If you love the history of New York City as much as I do, I recommend The Flatiron by Alice Sparberg Alexiou, St. Martin’s Press, 2010.