"Coco" receiving San Francisco revival

From the San Francisco Chronicle (SFGate.com):

‘Coco’ lives on (without Kate)
Edward Guthmann, Chronicle Staff Writer
Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Katharine Hepburn had no delusions about her singing voice. When she starred in “Coco,” her first and only Broadway musical, the actress was characteristically blunt about her performance. “I sound like Donald Duck,” she said when she heard the cast album.

That’s the way Rene Auberjonois, Hepburn’s co-star in the 1969 musical about French fashion designer Coco Chanel, remembers it. “Singing was not her strong suit,” he said in a recent phone interview. “She loved challenges and she trained very hard. But she couldn’t really do it.”

The critics agreed and yet, because of Hepburn’s star power the show became a media event and played to full houses. When Hepburn left the show in summer of 1970, however, and French actress Danielle Darrieux stepped in, “Coco” quickly closed. Apart from a summer stock tour in the early ’70s with Ginger Rogers, “Coco” has never been revived and is remembered, if at all, as miscalculated and overblown.

That didn’t stop Greg MacKellan, co-artistic director of 42nd Street Moon, a San Francisco stage company that specializes in obscure or little-seen musicals. Convinced that the show’s merits had been buried under Hepburn’s force of personality – “She was a great Hepburn, but not the ideal person to play Coco Chanel” – MacKellan set out to exhume “Coco” from its long interment.

MacKellan felt there was “a lovely score” by Andre Previn that had been scaled back to accommodate Hepburn’s musical limitations; in some cases, the melodies were dropped altogether. He also believed that the lyrics and book by Alan Jay Lerner (“My Fair Lady”), which situates Chanel in 1953 and 1954, when at 71 she attempts a comeback, were undervalued.

The 42nd Street Moon production, directed by Mark D. Kaufmann and starring Andrea Marcovicci as Chanel, opens Saturday at the Eureka Theatre for a two-week run. It’s a different species altogether from the unwieldy leviathan that starred Hepburn. Whereas the Broadway company had 40 performers, including a singing chorus separate from a dancing chorus, MacKellan’s “Coco” utilizes 15 cast members. Compared to the Broadway original, which cost $900,000, a Broadway record for its time, this incarnation is an intimate chamber piece. A piano is the only accompaniment, and the performers sing without mikes.

In retrospect, it’s stupefying that anyone envisioned Hepburn in a Broadway musical. Listening to the cast album is painful: In order to be heard above the orchestra, Hepburn bleats and shouts and Donald Ducks her way through the songs, obliterating any nuance or trace of pathos.

But Kate isn’t totally to blame. “Andre Previn was very, very upset about the way it was being recorded and by how much was being left out of the recording,” remembers Auberjonois. “At the time, you could only get a certain amount onto an LP record. In fact, they ended up compressing some of it so that we’re all singing faster than we sang in real life.”

If Hepburn’s musical abilities were deficient – nonexistent, really – her personal style was also a bad fit for her icon-of-glamour character. With her tomboy’s stride and her penchant for baggy gabardine trousers, sandals and high-necked shirts, Hepburn was anything but a fashion plate. “What I dread is dressing up,” she told Newsweek prior to the show’s opening. “I feel like Martha Washington.”

In retrospect, Kate-does-Coco makes as much sense as Courtney Love in a revival of “Hello, Dolly!” “When they told Coco Chanel that Hepburn was going to play her, she was thrilled,” MacKellan says, “because she thought they were talking about Audrey Hepburn. When she learned that it was Kate Hepburn she actually got very upset and refused to do any more for the show.”

It was Lerner who believed Hepburn was a plausible choice for “Coco,” and saw in her a defiance and originality that matched Chanel’s. “He and Hepburn were very friendly,” MacKellan says, “and they’d have parties and he’d convince her to sing a little. He’d say, ‘You should do a musical.’ And Hepburn would say, ‘If you ever get the right part, maybe I’ll consider it.’ “

During the ’50s and ’60s, a lot of non-singing actors and actresses were stretching their theatrical limbs in musicals. Vivien Leigh starred in “Tovarich,” Robert Ryan did Irving Berlin’s “Mr. President” and Anthony Perkins warbled in the short-lived “Greenwillow.” Rex Harrison had an enormous success in “My Fair Lady,” largely because he didn’t sing the role of Henry Higgins, but rather talk-sang it.

“Coco” rehearsals were embattled from the get-go, says Auberjonois. The British director, Michael Benthall, “was a friend of Kate’s but he was past his prime and really way over his head. The show was really directed by Michael Bennett, the choreographer.

Auberjonois played Sebastian Baye, a flamboyant costume designer and Coco’s nemesis. During rehearsals, he says, “Whenever I would do something outlandish or think up a piece of business, (Benthall) would say, ‘No no no, dear boy. You can’t do that.’ And Kate would say, ‘What are you talking about? He’s the only amusing thing in the show!’

“Kate would protect me and I give her full credit for allowing the role to become something that could be nominated for a Tony award.” In fact, Auberjonois won the award as featured actor in a musical, and was launched on a still-active career. He played in the Broadway musicals “Big River” and “City of Angels” and the TV series “Benson,” “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” and “Boston Legal.”

Hepburn never bullied her fellow actors, Auberjonois says, “but she was a terrible bully to the producers and to (costume designer) Cecil Beaton. If you read his autobiography, it’s devastating what he says about Hepburn. They had a real hate on for each other.” In his posthumously published diaries, Beaton called Hepburn an “untamed dog,” an “egomaniac” and “the most bossy of schoolteachers.”

Often, Hepburn gave Auberjonois a lift in her chauffeur-driven car, since he lived close to her East 49th Street house. “She would always make me come in and sit downstairs with her in the kitchen while she ate dinner after the show, and I would have ice cream with her. She was terrific. She was very kind to me.

“It was great to work with her. She set up this thing with me that whoever made a mistake or flubbed a line owed the other person $10. She would come stomping up the stairs to my dressing room with her hair rolled up in little pieces of newspaper and say, ‘Rene! Rene!’ She would come into my dressing room and pound the table and put a $10 bill down.

“Of course I needed the money and she didn’t,” Auberjonois says. “So I never made a mistake. It might have been her way of giving me a tip.”

Coco:

Previews Thursday and Friday. Opens Saturday and runs through May 11. Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson St. $22-$38. (415) 255-8207. www.42ndstmoon.org.

Where in the World is Lee Venora…?

As I listen to my ipod shuffle, Lee Venora‘s renditions of various songs from the Lincoln Center revivals of Kismet and The King and I keep popping up. I begin to wonder whatever happened to her. Her voice is a thrilling and grand operatic lyric soprano that just somehow manages to surpass that of Doretta Morrow (being a remarkable singer herself, no disrespect is intended), the singing actress that originated the roles of Marsinah and Tuptim. Hearing Venora take on the final ascending line of “My Lord and Master” is nothing short of breathtaking; or listening to how she takes the final solo reprise of “And This is My Beloved” and completely makes you forget anyone else ever in existence ever sang that song.

Her musical theatre record credits aren’t many: she recorded these two albums, the OBCR of Kean (on which she sings “Willow, Willow, Willow”, Wright and Forrest’s haunting musical setting of Othello’s “Willow Song”) and as Carrie on a studio cast album of Carousel, with Alfred Drake and Patrice Munsel in the leads. (The latter has never been released on CD). There’s also an easy-listening album of Show Boat, but I wonder if anyone’s ever heard that. My searches online are coming up with absolutely nothing, except that she has sung the role of Mimi in La Boheme and was also a soloist on various classical recordings, most notably Leonard Bernstein’s Mahler’s Symphonies.

One the Classiest Acts Around…

Tonight, I was browsing around aimlessly when I saw recent headlines about Cate Blanchett insisting on attending the 2020 arts summit in Australia, in spite of the fact she had given birth to her third son only a few days prior. To top it off, she brought little Ignatius along and as the little guy slept, he managed to steal the show (and Cate was given the moniker “Superwoman” by friend Hugh Jackman). It’s also a testament to her status as an actress vs. a celebrity. While she still can work a red carpet like the best of them, she’s not about to sink to others’ levels by hawking overpriced photos of her off-spring for the highest bidder. All the while managing to give superlative performances on film and onstage in varying genres; defying categorization or typing. And all the while doing it brilliantly and making it seem effortless. I kick myself for missing her Hedda at the Brooklyn Academy of Music a couple years back. Hopefully she’ll make a Broadway appearance one of these days. Until then, perhaps we should all save our pennies and see her in A Streetcar Named Desire when she plays Blanche in August 2009 at the Sydney Theatre Company.

So in my first count-down…

10 Random Reasons to love Cate Blanchett:

10. She’s not pimping out her newborn baby to the tabloids for exorbitant sums.
9. She’s in the upcoming Indiana Jones film. And she’s a complete bad-ass.
8. She practically fell out of her chair in excitement when Marion Cotillard won the Oscar this year.
7. She made a cameo in Hot Fuzz.
6. She played Bob Dylan. Probably better than anyone else could have.
5. She’s played Elizabeth I, Katharine Hepburn and Galadriel.
4. Unlike many others, she has not forsaken the stage.
3. She’s one of the most ridiculously talented people ever.
2. She’s an ardent supporter of the arts in her native Australia.
1. She’s Cate Blanchett. Period.

"La Fille du Regiment"

My unending thanks to Sarah for inviting me to the open house dress rehearsal of Donizetti’s La Fille du Regiment at the Met this morning. It was only my second time there, but what an extraordinary event (and one I’d like to do again and again). The production built around the French diva Natalie Dessay is nothing short of a vibrant joy. Fast and funny, it was a sheer pleasure from start to finish – and it was a “dress rehearsal.” I can only imagine the kind of magic that will emanate through that hallowed hall come opening night on Monday.

I have to admit, I wasn’t familiar with the opera prior to today. In fact, I had forgotten what I was seeing as I made a frenzied trip to NY this morning (don’t ask, it was too traumatic). I soon found out, and am now officially in love with the piece. A delectable opera comique by Donizetti (whose Lucia was a recent smash for Dessay in the same venue), this production was first done in Vienna and Covent Garden, and is now making (what will be) it’s triumphant Met debut. Seriously, the buzz is such that it sold out months ago. They keep it fresh and hilarious. Oh – and Marian Seldes has two marvelous cameos in the second act (non-singing). Who could ask for more?

Peruvian-born tenor Juan Diego Florez tackles the first act aria “Ah, mes amis” with such death defying technique that it seemed like no one wanted the opera to continue. There are nine high C’s in that aria. Yes NINE. HIGH C’S. And he nailed each and everyone with such ease, you’d have thought he was born singing this. I will never forget hearing that aria for the first time, and how I knew before it was over that the audience was going to go completely nuts. (In reading about it, his performance at La Scala in February 2007 broke the 74 year embargo on encores as he sang the entire aria – and nine high C’s for the enraptured audience). Dessay was in top form all around. A tomboyish and playful heroine, she relished in the physical comedy and athleticism in her characterization, tossing off coloratura trills while skipping around the stage, being tossed aloft and even in tantrum. I never thought I’d ever hear a tomboy expressed musically as a coloratura soprano. The match of the two leads was impeccable and find it hard to see or hear anyone else in the roles (all due respect to Pavarotti, Sutherland, Pons, et al). British mezzo-soprano Felicity Palmer was the Marquise and you know what? We could use a gem like her in grande dame musical comedy roles.

Afterwards, there was an enjoyable if slightly staid talk back session. Marian was marvelous as ever. Then Sally, Sarah and myself headed to O’Neals for lunch and a few drinks (and hours of endless conversation). A glorious afternoon.

Fortunately this production will be broadcast. This is from an earlier production of the opera (with Dessay & Florez).

UK Television segment on the opera (and its stars):

“Ah! Mes Amis”

“Chacun le Sait, Chacun le Dit”

“Salut a la France”

"It’s a New Old World…"


On this day three years ago I attended my first-ever Broadway opening night. It was also the night I fell madly in love with a new musical; a feeling that I had never experienced before nor since. The show: The Light in the Piazza.

It was an interesting progression for me. I was familiar with the film adaptation of Elizabeth Spencer’s original novella when it played on TCM a few years before. It starred Olivia de Havilland and Yvette Mimieux, respectively, as the mother and her daughter on vacation in Florence, Italy. George Hamilton was Fabrizio, who came off lecherous rather than romantic – to the point where I was actually disappointed the two got together. Rossano Brazzi was his father. It wasn’t a spectacular film, but it featured a stellar performance from de Havilland and beautiful CinemaScope cinematography (shot on location).

Anyway, as I heard this was being adapted as a stage musical, I was instantly intrigued at the prospect. I’d never really heard Adam Guettel before. I knew about Floyd Collins and that he was Richard Rodgers’ grandson, but that was it. I vaguely followed the musical while it was out of town, my interest piqued because I had recently seen Victoria Clark in performance for the first time in the Broadway production of Urinetown, in which she briefly assumed the role of Penelope Pennywise. Hearing her knock “It’s a Privilege to Pee” out of the ballpark remains one of my favorite discoveries of a talent ever. The song is mostly high belting, but it culminates in an operatic high C. From my vantage point mid mezzanine at the old Henry Miller’s I could hear her acoustic sound. Needless to say, I was very impressed.

When time came for the show to come into New York, I very calmly yet honestly told everyone it was the musical I was looking forward to the most. The out of town reviews were mixed to positive, but it was a work in progress so I expected continued work. Vicki earned raves for her characterization of Margaret Johnson and was supported by Celia Keenan-Bolger as her daughter, initially in Seattle at the Intiman (where Sher is artistic director) and in Chicago at the Goodman.

It was Lincoln Center Theatre who brought the musical to Broadway as part of their 2005 season. Noah went to a preview and called raving about and I knew that we were onto something special here. I followed his lead and joined the student ticketing program on the Lincoln Center website and proceeded to look for my $20 seat. When performing my search I did a double take when I saw they were offering the opening night performance for sale (While roaming through Lincoln Center on the day of the show, I would discovered the opening night performance was on TKTS). Well, I snatched that up immediately. My seat was in the rear of the Loge, but that didn’t matter for that price and the opportunity.

I’d only done the closing of the Bernadette Peters Gypsy prior to this, so my experience with high energy theatrical events was considerably limited. But there in the lobby of the Vivian Beaumont I watched as John Lithgow, Helen Hunt, Marc Shaiman, Scott Wittman, Adam Guettel, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Peter Sarsgaard, Frank Rich roamed about while Mary Rodgers Guettel stood receiving people like royalty.

The uniqueness of this experience is pretty much beyond the mere use of words. I can draw out all the adjectives I know: resplendent, ethereal, cathartic, et al. to describe what is was like for me. But none can ever do justice to the emotional impact that was delivered. I made fast friends with an aspiring actress and her friend next to me. There was the hat placed downstage center on the bench with a pin spot. The cell phone announcement wonderfully delivered in Italian by Felicity LaFortune. Then down came the house lights. And that overture started. A simple harp gliss with a hint of tension building from other instruments which released into the main “Light” theme. I knew within seconds – and this is a rare occurrence – that I was going to love this new musical. And I did. I immersed myself in the beauty and grace of the musical’s staging and scenography. I am forever a fan of Bartlett Sher. One thing about that opening night performance I will specifically never forget is how “Dividing Day” completely devastated me.

The actors were stellar, such legit singing on Broadway, though I was thrown by the more pop sounding Matthew Morrison as Fabrizio, though admittedly, he grew on me during the run. Kelli O’Hara was the perfect embodiment of the child-like Clara, creating a character of nuance and ambiguity that complemented Clark’s Margaret (her replacement Katie Rose Clarke, embodied the childish aspects of the character as well, but was nowhere near O’Hara on the acting and singing fronts). But the entire performance was centered around Clark’s tour de force as Margaret, giving a devastatingly beautiful performance that ranks among the best I have ever seen in my theatregoing life.

The first act ended with the gorgeous “Say it Somehow” with that coda and gasp-inducing black out. The second act ended with “Fable.” The audience went wild. I mean we went completely nuts – the entire house was on its feet before a single person re-entered for their curtain call. And another theatrical first: after the actors made their exit, our applause continued and continued. In fact grew louder and we would only cease once Messrs. Guettel, Sher and Lucas made a bow. I had a feeling akin to sailing, I think. A natural high. I had been both moved and affected by this work of art which to me was challenging but accessible.

I like to consider 4.18.05 the night I rediscovered my lost romanticism. As I left the Beaumont, I was already on my cell phone to Noah, proclaiming “Oh my God, this is the best new musical I’ve ever seen.” And he proceeded to read me back a rave review from Broadway.com. I strolled by the fountain at Lincoln Center in a daze, almost walking into Mr. & Mrs. Peter Boyle, Mike Nichols and Diane Sawyer, who were attending a Dustin Hoffman celebration at Avery Fisher Hall. I watched a rather attractive young couple walk by the fountain, also having emerged from Avery Fisher. The gentleman placed his topcoat over the shoulders of his lover with such tenderness and care that I could and only pause and smile. Truth be told, I’d been more likely to roll my eyes and scoff, but then again, it’s much easier to be a cynic than a romantic, no?

The score was unlike anything I could have anticipated. Orchestrated with as many strings as there are stars in the skies. (I’m a wee bit prone to hyperbole, sue me). All woodwinds save the flute and piccolo, which added just a tinge of melancholy to the score’s sound. And of course there’s that harp, that gorgeous harp around which the entire orchestration is built. I would venture a guess that I’ve listened to this score more times than any other. There were five months where the CD rarely left my player. And the repeat button was on. And repeat listenings/viewings only unraveled more and more depth and skill in the music and lyrics. (I know some people loathed the lyrics, but I admired their dramatic honesty and simplicity). Guettel as a musical composer managed to create a hybrid of the Rodgers & Hammerstein and the Sondheim schools of musical theatre, infused with a neo-classicist stream of consciousness in the flow of the melody.

It was also the night I became an ardent fan and supporter of the Lincoln Center Theatre, a non-profit company that is not afraid to take artistic risks and not afraid to spare any expense when they believe in a work. The show would eventually win six Tony awards – the most of any show that year – including a deserved sweep in the scenographic categories: Lighting, Scenic and Costume Design (the combination of the elements made me feel as though I was actually in Florence). The show was also awarded for its rich orchestrations, score and the coup d’grace: Best Actress in a Musical for Victoria Clark, whose performance in the role will one day be considered legendary. The show may have lost the Best Musical Tony, but it had already won Best Musical of my Heart – sentimental, yes, but I’ve never given that designation to any other show.

The 2004-05 season became a joyous one with four solid shows opening towards the end of the season, three of which were Spamalot, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and the fourth was Piazza, which became a surprise hit for LCT and warranted several extensions past its original June closing date (eventually extending its run by 54 weeks). By the time it closed on June 2, 2006, it had played 504 performances at the Vivian Beaumont. It would shortly thereafter launch a year-long national tour starring Christine Andreas and Elena Shaddow.

For the first time, I was compelled to go back to a Broadway show. Even when I thought of it prior, I had for whatever reason decided not to. But I returned, and returned. By the time of the closing (which, yes, I also attended) I had seen the musical 12 times. Can you believe it? And no, I don’t regret spending the money on it at all. If I could have, I would have gone back many, many more times. At this point, I do have to thank my friends who were so wonderful putting up with my year and four months of complete and total obsession. I wanted everyone to see this show, hear this score and could talk of little else. I took my a good friend to the closing performance who had listened to me harp on about the show for well over a year. He soon learned that I was rather calm in comparison to the woman to his left (who shouted “MATT!” at Matthew Morrison, who was in the audience for the last show, until he turned and gave her a quick wave). The only new musical to open since that I have appreciated nearly as much was Grey Gardens. I only hope it won’t be too long until a new musical captures my undivided attention.

The Light in the Piazza was a rare experience, and one which will forever hold a special place in my mind and soul. April 18th will always be an incredibly poignant and nostalgic date for me.

Here is Vicki Clark as Margaret Johnson performing the incandescent finale, “Fable.”

But what about "Marty"?

With the buzz surrounding the opening night of A Catered Affair (and with the mixed reactions it’s bound to receive from the NY critics), I can’t help but wonder, whatever happened to the Strouse & Adams musical adaptation of Marty? It played Boston to good notices and was even announced for a Broadway run a few years back. John C. Reilly played the title role, and was apparently supposed to star in NY as well. Given that the Oscar-winning underdog Marty is the more iconic of the two Paddy Chayefsky-teleplay to big-screen adaptations (confusing terminology, no?), you’d think it would have arrived first.

The film, one of only two to have won the Best Picture Oscar and the Palm D’Or at Cannes, is a rather simple affair about Marty Piletti, in an Oscar-winning turn by Ernest Borgnine as a good-natured, well-meaning but socially awkward butcher in his 30s who finds romance with a rather shy and homely schoolteacher (Betsy Blair). Chayefsky adapted his teleplay, which starred Rod Steiger and Nancy Marchand, for the big screen in 1955, with direction by Delbert Mann. (Both Chayefsky and Mann were also Oscar-winners that year). Steiger apparently refused to recreate his TV triumph for movies, allowing Borgnine, who was notable for playing the heavy to triumph in an unlikely leading performance. Burt Lancaster and his producing partner Harold Hecht financed the film, thinking it was going to be a flop, as a tax write-off, only to become one of the most profitable projects in screen history. It’s a sweet little film, and I would like to think that the musical adaptation is worthy of our time and attention.

In fact, were it not for the overwhelming success of Marty, it’s not unreasonable to assume that The Catered Affair, which also starred Borgnine opposite the unlikely Bette Davis, would have been produced.

I also wonder what impact A Catered Affair, regardless of whether or not it’s a success, will have on the fate of Marty.

"I’m Not Making This Up, You Know…"

“I think Shakespeare summed it up so beautifully in his play Caelius Jusier… (titters at her mistake) I’m sorry… Culius Jaesar… (annoyed at the audience) MACBETH! ….where he said, ‘If music be the food of love, play on…’ He didn’t say on what but I think it’s a marvelous idea.”

So encants the haughty harridan introducing the guest performer in Anna Russell‘s “Introduction to the Concert (By the Women’s Club President).” I discovered Russell entirely by accident while searching for music in college. I was looking for an aria of some sort. I can’t remember exactly which one, but I entered ‘coloratura’ into the search engine and I saw the listing for “Canto Dolciamente Pipo.” Curious, I downloaded it, and then forgot about it for whatever reason. Weeks later I was going through my playlist, and popped up randomly decided to give it a listen. This veddy-veddy British singer with false airs was doing to opera and classical singing what Victor Borge did for the classical piano. I immediately went out and found her first album, The Anna Russell Album?, which quickly became a personal favorite.

The woman fearlessly took on everything from those pretentious musical appreciation societies to coloratura sopranos, to lieder singers, to various folk song styles, etc. Every single parody was her own creation, both in the words and music. She is best known for two pieces. The first is a dead-on parody of Gilbert and Sullivan in “How to Write Your Own Gilbert and Sullivan Opera,” in which she points at that all of the operas are written to a certain formula and you can fill in your own details to make your own. But her ultimate achievement, for which she would receive the most acclaim, was her “The Ring de Nibelungen, An Analysis” in which she does a hilarious dissertation/deconstruction of Wagner’s 20 hour opera cycle in 30 minutes, with Russell taking on all major themes and providing wry commentary throughout.

For example:

— “The scene opens in the River Rhine. IN it. If it were in New York, it would be like the Hudson. And swimming around there are the three Rhinemaidens…a sort of aquatic Andrews Sisters. Or sometimes they’re called “nixies.” Mairsie-nix and doesie-nix and little nixie-divie. And they sing their signature tune, which is as follows. [Plays and sings] “Weia! Waga! Woge, du Welle, walle zur Wiege! wagala weia! wallala, weiala weia!” I won’t translate it, because it doesn’t mean anything.

The Rhine maidens are looking after a lump of magic gold. And the magic of this gold consists of the fact that anybody who will renounce love and make a ring out of this gold will become Master of the Universe. This is the gimmick.”

— “Well one day who should turn up but Siegmund, and he falls madly in love with Sieglinde, regardless of the fact that she’s married to Hunding, which is immoral, and she’s his own sister, which is illegal. But that’s the beauty of Grand Opera, you can do anything so long as you sing it.”

Russell trained as an opera singer, with intensive music training at the Royal College of Music. Her vocal teachers were pretty much completely unimpressed with her sound and quality. She is quoted as saying: “If you go in there with a tin voice, you’ll come out with a loud tin voice.” She toured England in her early career, making a serious attempt at being an opera singer. However, a devastating onstage mishap nearly ended all that.

Per her NY Times obituary:

— The main inspirational trauma for her career may have been a British touring company production of Mascagni’s “Cavalleria Rusticana,” in which she sang Santuzza as a substitute. The tenor, who was supposed to shove her, did not expect her considerable girth and fell backward. She herself then tripped and literally brought the house down, the sets collapsing to the accompaniment of an audience roaring with laughter.

The performance was brought to an end. “So was my career,” she said. “My life’s work was shattered, after five years of hard preparation . . . But I got over it.”

She performed on the BBC radio before leaving for Canada at the outbreak of WWII. It is here she began her work as a parodist. She made her NY debut in 1948, briefly brought her show to Broadway in 1953 and toured extensively throughout the world, recording her material, and appearing on various television shows including “The Ed Sullivan Show.” She also lent her voice to an animated film of Hansel and Gretl, and played the role at the NYCO in 1954 and San Francisco Opera in 1957. She would later come out of retirement, also part of her act, to parody the aging divas of the opera world who did likewise.

The closing paragraph of the Times obit:

— In the 1970’s and 80’s, Ms. Russell would occasionally come out of retirement, like one of the aging divas she caricatured, for another “farewell tour” and the cheers of fans who did not mind her failing voice. She said that a friend told her: “It doesn’t matter what you sound like. You were no Lily Pons anyway.”

With the satire, came a profound respect and admiration for the art form which she studied for many years. If she wasn’t much of an opera singer, she possessed a superlative wit, a down-to-earth charm and a broad scope of musical idiom that transcended genres. She was also very honest about her own musical talents, playing up her vocal limitations in her concerts, where she claimed to have gotten her start as “the prima donna of the Ellis Island Opera Company” and that her teachers “at one time or other, have ruined my voice.”

She lived in retirement in a suburb of Toronto on the aptly named Anna Russell Way until moving to Australia to be with her daughter. It is there that Russell died in October 2006 at the age of 94, leaving behind her legacy of humor and wit and that pink chiffon she always wore…

Here she opens her (final) farewell concert with an anecdote about her outfit:

And here she advises on how to be a professional singer:

The One Where I Celebrate Dysfunction…

I’ve only just begun watching the acclaimed HBO series Six Feet Under, the dysfunctional drama with the family that runs the funeral home (created by Alan Ball). It’s a result of my having gotten obsessed with Weeds and Entourage over the past year; finding these well-written and compelling shows that have the freedom to go where network TV fears to tread. Unfortunately, I don’t have HBO or Showtime, so I tend to miss out on these, but thank God for the DVDs (and for specialty retailers who periodically sell them for next to nothing). It took a couple of episodes to adjust to the entire “death” aspect of the series (thankfully they dropped those awkward funeral commercials after the pilot) and I still get unnerved during the opening scene, but regardless, I’ve become hooked. It’s taken in a matter of fact, business-like matter, such as I assume it is in the “death-care” industry. Each episode starts with the death of one of their clients, which range from the random to the absurd to the devastatingly tragic. After which point, we switch back to the Fisher family and their latest foibles. The characters and stories are so well-defined, you can’t help but feeling for these people. However, they still manage to find a lot of irony and humor in the macabre and absurd (such as those fantastical elements, with the ghosts and subconscious revelations). But you know me, I love the dysfunction. The Royal Tenenbaums, Arrested Development, Weeds, August: Osage County and now this. And does the awkward come in spades… My goodness. I’ve only just started the second season, so we’ll see where this is going to progress. I already can figure out where certain characters are headed and it should be very interesting, to say the least.

The entire ensemble is stellar: Peter Krause, whom I’ve enjoyed since Sports Night (anyone?), Lauren Ambrose (has teen rebellion ever been presented in a more attractive guise?), the outstanding Rachel Griffiths (with one of the best American accents I’ve ever heard from any foreign actor) and Michael C. Hall. (Dexter will be soon) But the highlight to me is Frances Conroy as Ruth Fisher. Every time she is in a scene, she inadvertently steals my focus, my attentions and my emotions. She takes this little moments and turns them into something both incredibly genuine and real; and for that the pay-off is tenfold. Watching this woman perform, I could tell that she must have had some stage experience. Lo and behold, in searching, I discovered she was a graduate of Juilliard and also that she appeared in eleven plays on Broadway, most recently in 2000 in The Ride Down St. Morgan. I would relish the opportunity to see her perform live in NY. I also think she should appear on The Office as Angela’s mother. Yes, think about that idea for a moment… I wish I could have seen her Birdie Hubbard in the LCT revival of The Little Foxes (the one that starred Stockard Channing – and again, more dysfunction!)

I can tell you the date I realized how much I enjoyed the darker aspects of familial humor. January 20, 2002. When I saw The Royal Tenenbaums (which remains one of my all-time favorite movies). I realized something was up when afterward I told my friend “I absolutely loved it.” And she in turn gave me a look of condescension, “Well, I hated it.” She’s since seen it again and changed her mind (HA!).

Other shows on the agenda: The West Wing (I’ve never watched a single episode in my life), The Office (UK), It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and the fourth season of The Bob Newhart Show. Then there’s also the first season of The Sopranos, of which I’ve only seen one episode. I also am supposed to catch up with the second season of Lost and also take in The Wire, as the list continues to grow and grow and grow…

None of this reality crap for me. Who has the time?

Upcoming releases, plus a thorough wishlist…

Winter’s on the wing and the weather has been turning magical and resplendent. But with such resplendence comes the sweet poison of pollen. Flowers, grasses, trees. You name it. It’s floating out there. And making evil of me. I know many of you must be suffering as I am. Well, thankfully I’m not as bad I have been thanks to ongoing allergy immunotherapy, lots of pharmaceutical assistance and my neti pot.

Enough about my woes… There are treasures to be had this spring in the guise of DVD and CD product.

On April 29, DRG is releasing two: the CD premiere of the 1967 musical Illya, Darling, a vehicle for Melina Mercouri based on her blockbuster success Never on Sunday. While not a spectacular score by any means, it has some interesting items, most especially “Bouzouki Nights,” the show’s Grecian-flavored overture. Also coming out on that day is the CD reissue of the Merm’s Happy Hunting, which is considerably less exciting, but still, it’s good to have it out there. Also, Sh-K-Boom will be releasing the cast recording of William Finn’s Make Me a Song.

No word on when the Gypsy cast album will be recorded and released, but the South Pacific cast recording was made yesterday and will be released on May 27. (Kelli O’Hara, who has missed performances for the first time in her career according to Playbill.com, is suffering from a severe cold and will record her tracks at a later date). The same day we also get the original Broadway cast recording of A Catered Affair.

It’s nice to hear that DRG is still bringing out the cast recordings. Apparently many of the titles are now only available via Arkiv. I know they’re officially licensed with reprinted liner notes and all, but I feel somewhat cheated getting a CD-R of an original CD. For my money, give me an official remastered issue. There are still many older cast albums on LP that have been left on the shelves and in used music stores that should come to CD. Of the New York entries there’s The Consul, Cry for Us All, Anya, A Time for Singing, Donnybrook!, Doonesbury, Maggie Flynn, The Threepenny Opera (’76 revival), the NYCO Regina, and the off-Broadway The Cradle Will Rock. There are a lot of original London cast albums that have never been issued on CD: Carnival, The Most Happy Fella, The Music Man (the budget CD issue doesn’t count, it’s missing 7 or 8 tracks), Camelot, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, I Do! I Do!, Man of La Mancha, 1776, Once Upon a Mattress, Do Re Mi, Promises Promises, and Hello Dolly!. As has been the case, copyright laws in Britain expire after 50 years, sending recordings into the public domain. Look for some of these recordings to be released when that occurs.

And inevitably, those albums previously available on CD that are now out of print: Darling of the Day, Little Me (OBC, OLC & NBC), Sugar Babies, 110 in the Shade (OBC), Woman of the Year, Wish You Were Here, Me and Juliet, Wildcat, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, High Spirits (OBC & OLC), Sugar, Tenderloin, Black & Blue, Mr. Wonderful, Take Me Along, Minnie’s Boys, High Button Shoes, Sophisticated Ladies, Hello Dolly! (with Pearl Bailey), Two on the Aisle, Henry Sweet Henry, Milk and Honey, Prettybelle, Do Re Mi, Zorba (OBC), Mr. President, and One Touch of Venus/Lute Song. The original London cast albums of She Loves Me, Flower Drum Song, Forum, Where’s Charley?, Cabaret (with Judi Dench as Sally Bowles), Passion Flower Hotel, Company (the OBC with Larry Kert dubbing over Dean Jones), Anne of Green Gables and Charlie Girl; all of the latter were either part of the long-defunct Sony West End series, a London counterpart to the Sony Broadway series of the early 90s or the West End Angel Series. Also, The Good Companions, Little Mary Sunshine (with our beloved Patricia Routledge in the title role), A Little Night Music (OLC & RNT w. Judi Dench), City of Angels, The Card, 70 Girls 70, Anything Goes (with Elaine Paige) and the Donmar Company revival.

We have quite the minimal market, so it makes sense why many titles haven’t yet been released, or have been deleted from their respective catalogues. Most of the major labels don’t go in for a cast album unless it’s one of the major shows. It’s up to Ghostlight/Sh-K-Boom, PS Classics and Nonesuch to pick up the slack and integrity. I didn’t even bother going into the studio cast albums because there are way too many to be taken into consideration. Anything I missed? Anything you want to see out there? Discuss.