The Passing of Giants

In the last couple of weeks, two giants of NYC passed on -- the radio DJ Paco Navarro and the midtown movie theater The Paris.

Both defined an NYC that, as always, is vanishing.

So who was Paco?

He was an old-school personality DJ. He was also, in his small way, a transformative radio DJ. See, in the late 1970s he became a DJ at WKTU and made the suggestion that it switch to full-time disco music. The ratings for KTU exploded and the ratings for WABC -- up until then the king of music radio in NYC -- plunged. By 1982, WABC ceased to be a music station altogether, instead becoming a talk station, paving the way for the likes of Rush Limbaugh and the revolution of Republican talk radio. Of course, by 1982, disco had also withered so KTU became a classic rock station -- WXRK or K-ROCK -- and soon became the home to Howard Stern for 20 years. So Paco was unintentionally responsible for much of the shape of NYC radio for the last four decades. He was also notorious -- in the late 1980s, he was busted for drugs and spent some time in jail before getting out and triumphantly ending his career in Spanish language radio. He was a trailblazer, an icon, and he'll be missed.

Granted, the Paris movie theater was not person but its closing feels like a death to me.

Unlike most movie theaters that are big spaceship like multiplexes, the Paris was a modest single-screen theater that reflected its upscale setting (59th street and Fifth Avenue, across from the Plaza Hotel, Central Park, and Bergdorfs). It was beautiful, elegant, understated. It had a velvet screen that would rise just before showtime, and it showed art and foreign films (Merchant Ivory, etc.) for an affluent and cultured crowed. You don't remember most of the theaters you see movies in but you never forgot seeing a movie at the Paris -- I saw Howard's End, The Remains of the Day, Life is Beautiful, and The Company there. It was always great to see a movie there at night and walk out of this magnificent theater into the starry and light-filled world of modtown Manhattan. It made you feel great to be alive. But, alas, rising rents and changing viewer habits wrecked havoc on the Paris' business model. It couldn't keep up. And so, another giant of NYC, has passed into history.

Movie News

For you movie buffs out there, you might find the following interesting:

The Paris Theater -- you know, the one next to the Plaza Hotel on 59th street -- is turning 60 years old next month. It's the oldest continuing art house cinema in the country and it's a real treasure. If you've never gone to see a movie there, you should. It reminds you of a time when movie theaters were really theaters, and going to the movies was a semi-classy event. The Paris has a balcony and a curtain in front of the screen that goes up at showtime. I remember going to see The Remains of the Day there in high school, Life is Beautiful there in college, and then a movie called The Company, one of Robert Altman's last films, a few years ago. My mom told me about going to see movies like The Bridge on the River Kwai and other classics there back in the day. At a time when NYC landmarks like CBGBs are vanishing, let's be thankful the Paris is still there.

2. And if that don't excite you, then this might: The Godfather and The Godfather Part II are coming back to the big screen! From September 12 to October 2, Film Forum will be showing these classic films that were completely restored by Mr. Francis Ford Coppola himself. It's hard tow believe these two movies are almost 40 years old. Needless to say, New York City film geeks are going nuts (that includes me). Get all the info about it here.

Which do you prefer: 1 or 2?

Interview: Lynn Paula Russell, Legendary Artist and Performer - An Englishwoman in NYC

New York City in the 1970s and ’80s has become almost mythical -- like Paris in the 1920s or London in the 1960s. It was an era of great danger and temptation as well as a period of artistic revolution.

Andy Warhol, Jean Michel-Basquiat, Julian Schnable, and others ruled the art world; Saturday Night Live and David Letterman were changing television comedy from the NBC Studios at Rockefeller Center; on Broadway, shows like Pippin, Evita, A Chorus Line, Cats, Lez Miz and the musicals of Stephen Sondheim were reinventing the American musical; Woody Allen was making classic films like Annie Hall, Manhattan, Hannah & Her Sisters, and Crimes and Misdemeanors; Studio 54 and disco culture captured the popular imagination; sex clubs like Plato’s Retreat and Hellfire were turning respectable middle-class couples into sexual adventurers; and the adult film scene in NYC still existed.

Lynn Paula Russell was part of it. 

Here Lynn tells us about her adventures with the Broadway theater and sexual underworld of NYC, and how her experiences in in the city changed her life.

You're an Englishwoman and, I assume, lived and worked in the UK most of your life. But you worked in NYC several times in the 1970s and 1980s. Tell us about your time as a children's theater actress in NYC in 1970 and as a painter of Broadway theater performers in 1979. What was it like, as an Englishwoman, to come to this big wild American city at such a crazy time in history? What do you remember most about the city back then?

Yes, let’s talk about NYC! My first visit in 1970 was really only a flying visit. As I mentioned earlier, I was part of a small troupe of actors who had been touring around England visiting schools and youth clubs. This group was part of a children’s theatre company that consisted of several groups so it was extremely exciting that ours was chosen for the first tour of the USA. And to add to this, it had been decided that the most economical way of transporting us, with all our props and costumes, was on the magnificent, newly built QE 2 liner. The fact that we travelled this way meant that I had one of the most memorable experiences of my young life, which has remained with me to this day. Sailing in to NYC past the famous Ellis Island and Statue of Liberty, I felt as if I were in a movie.

On that day in October 1970, the sky was unbelievably clear as the ship majestically made its way up the Hudson, sailing close to the West side of Manhattan. I had never seen such buildings before, and at that time the Twin Towers of World Trade Centre were just nearing completion. I couldn’t believe it! The height of it terrified me. It seemed to belong to another planet. We could even see the little figures walking around on scaffolding at the top. I felt dizzy just looking. That human beings could not only dream of creating such a building, but actually have the courage and skill to accomplish it, struck me as the big difference between my culture and the American way. Back home, everything was so much smaller and more tentative at that time. Whenever an ambitious idea was suggested, there would always be a hundred reasons why it couldn’t be done, whereas here in America, people would always find a way!

In 1979, I came with my partner to spend 2 months exploring and doing some painting. I had originally been encouraged to come by Martin Charnin, the director of Annie and through my connections with the production I was able to go backstage at the Alvin Theatre [now the Neil Simon Theater] where it was still playing. You asked about my observations of the city – well, here I have to say that there was a disappointment regarding the ‘Great White Way’ as portrayed in Hollywood movies. When we finally got to see it, it wasn’t very white at all! And when I was shown the slightly antiquated backstage equipment at the Alvin, I was amazed – compared to the lighting board I had operated for Annie, the American version looked utterly primitive!

But apart from this, we loved the city, it’s good humor, and the fact that everyone working in the service industry treated you to a broad smile and a sardonic quip. They were all entertainers! We had heard so many stories about NY being dangerous. There were dire warnings about going into Central Park after a certain hour, but nothing ever happened to us and we ignored the doom mongers.

How had the city changed, in your experience, between the 1970s and 1980s?

Not easy for me to compare experiences of the city because in the 80s I was seeing a completely different side of it. In the earlier visit, we explored 42nd Street and marveled at its lights and adult movie houses, but in the 80s I remember actually going into one of them to meet Henri Pachard, who had his office in the backstage area. It was a curious experience. Back then 42nd Street was still alive with those same cinemas, but had I visited in the next decade, most of them would have vanished.

Interesting that London’s so called ‘Red Light’ district, Soho, began to be ‘cleaned up’ at about the same time. If you go to Soho now you won’t see a single strip joint, sex shop or prostitute. All consigned to the past. But back in 80s NYC, it was all still very much alive on the legendary 42nd Street. Also alive and flourishing, in another part of the city, were the offices of Screw magazine, which I visited on several occasions and met the editorial team. During the last of my visits I did a couple of illustrations for High Society and was able to glimpse the inside of a plush office on 5th Avenue. This was a much more up-market publication.

Now I am remembering visiting Plato’s Retreat – a large night club, designed especially for swingers. We had nowhere like this in London. I remember being invited to be part of a little cabaret there, but have to say that during the day, when we were rehearsing, and the interior was not seen in sexy subdued artificial light, it looked decidedly run down. The man who had started it, Larry Levinson, had just come out of prison so probably in his absence, the vitality had begun to drain out of the place.

Does anyone remember Plato’s Retreat now?

Oh, people remember it -- and miss it! 

Before I leave this subject, I must also mention The Hellfire Club. In this case, being run down was quite deliberate. This place specialized in being dark, grubby and un-salubrious. I was invited to go there by a couple who were fascinated by the S/M scene and knew that I had an interest at the time too. They collected me from my hotel in a huge stretch limo, in which champagne was served as we made our stately way to the Club. When the chauffeur drew up at a shabby address in the Meatpacking District, I was utterly horrified, and even more horrified by the club itself. But I was there to experience it, so experienced it I did – having got myself decked out in a skimpy leather outfit specially for the occasion. I was led around the dark dungeons on a lead, and we were able to watch all the other slaves with their masters and mistresses.

Apart from these outings, most of the time we were filming and I saw plenty of interiors of huge loft apartments in the city or beautiful houses with swimming pools out on Long Island. However, to sum up, I have to say that being in NYC filled me with such a special sort of energy. I cannot begin to express the difference it made to my personality. I became more confident and more extrovert as a person.

In the final part of our interview, Lynn tells about her time in the NYC adult film world at the end of its Golden Age and what she learned from it.

You can visit Lynn Paul Russell’s website and an exhibition of her work at:

www.lynnpaularussell.org
https://www.talismanfineart.com/product/cat/current-feature-4 

Mr NYC in Portland, Oregon

One of the reasons for my not blogging lately is that last weekend I was out of town -- in Portland, OR.

I'd never been out there before and had no idea what to expect. (Being from NYC, most other cities are underwhelming, to say the least.) However, after spending just a couple of days in this Northwestern ville, I can happily report that Portland, OR shoots right to the top of the list of my favorite American cities (along with San Francisco and New Orleans).

So here's a brief recap o' my trip.

Unlike those other cities, which are fun and colorful, Portland is fun and ... chill ... It's also very beautiful. Driving from the airport, we saw the huge, gorgeous Douglas-fir trees that make the Pacific Northwest famous. There aren't a lot of tall buildings in this town but the architecture is pretty, contextual, and tasteful. Like NYC, Portland is very compact -- even more compact, actually, because it's smaller and only has a population of two million people. Portland is divided into four quadrants and people there talking about living in either NW, SW, NE and SE. Driving across the city takes about twenty minutes from end to end, and about it's half an hour from any spot in the city to PDX (the airport). Unlike a lot of American cities, Portland has decent public transportation -- no subway but trolleys and a very good bus system. Apparently you can get from most sections of the city to downtown in about twenty minutes. All in all, a pretty easy city to navigate.

Our time in Portland was busy. We actually got out of town and drove up into the mountains nearby. The views and vistas there are stunningly beautiful. We drove to the top of the Columbia River Gorge which inspired us to do "downdogs" and "sun salutations" and other yoga moves, so Zen was the experience. Then we went hiking up several trails, passing several lovely waterfalls (one of which sprayed us and felt wonderful).*

Later we went to dinner at a very good restaurant in town called The Farm Cafe. They serve fresh, organic food along with excellent cocktails (this is a very popular spot so either go early or make reservations).

We then hung out for a little while at a great, great place called Voicebox Karaoke, easily the most upscale, classy karaoke bar I've ever been too. You can rent private rooms, each one very comfortable and unique, and they have great drinks and dumplings on tap.

Then we saw a show. Not a concert or a play exactly but what is apparently a live action sitcom called "Fall of the House." It's basically a raunchy version of Friends set in Portland but with lots of different characters and wacky situations. Shocking thing? It was good! And funny! And very well written! The characters were well developed and dimensional and we really enjoyed it. If you are ever in Portland and this show is on, I suggest you go.

Next day we went downtown and walked along the waterfront. Portland is cut in two by the Willamette river and bound together by several bridges, each one distinct and interesting. Then we had brunch at Mother's Bistro, a popular restaurant with very good food. After that, we went to Powell's, the largest bookstore in the country. Simply put, Powell's has lots and lots and lots of books. If you go, make sure you get a map. It has nine rooms (each with its own designated color) and four floors. We bought a few books, including a huge history of the world for our friend and host, and even managed at one point to get lost in the huge place.

After this, we went rollerskating ... and even did the hokey pokey!

Dinner that night was pizza taken out from a place called Dove Vivi. A very good organic pizza place, we had a sausage pizza and one covered with corn and red peppers. Mmmmmmm.

On our way the airport, we stopped by Voodoo Doughnuts for dessert. This is the first time I've ever had donuts made by punk rockers but they ... were ... awesome! We went there at 5 PM on a Sunday evening and there was a long line outside the store and it took almost half and hour to get in. I had a basic jelly doughnut but you can also get things like the Maple Bacon donut (you read that right) along with other exotic pastries. It goes without saying that if you like donuts -- and I love 'em -- and you're in Portland, you must go to Voodoo Doughnuts.**

And then, after a wonderful whirlwind trip, we came home to NYC on the red eye.

So, to sum it up, Portland is great. If you love NYC, you'll really like Portland. What impressed me most is that Portland still has vibrant neighborhoods and a downtown that doesn't shut up at night. We stayed in a neighborhood called Clinton which has lovely small homes with beautiful lawns but is also within walking distance (literally, just minutes away) of bars, restaurants, movie theaters, grocery stores, banks, and park space.

Portland is a real city, not just a "metro area," and if you live there you feel like you're in a community. It's a very chill, relaxed city, where people work to live, not live to work, where time is as important as money, where the cost of living is reasonable, and where you feel like everyone is a good neighbor.

Cheers.

*For those of you who might hike these trails with a significant other, there's a book called Pokin' Round the Gorge that suggests secluded spots that are good for a little outdoor nooky. I have not read this book nor did our hike include this activity but I thought both of my readers might like to know about this publication.

**Voodoo Doghnuts is next door to a place called The Paris Theater. Unlike our Paris Theatre, however, they show different kinds of movies.

Unintentional NYC Icons

New York City has many icons, buildings and structures and places that define the city's image to the world. Think the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the Flatiron Building, Times Square, Central Park, Radio City Music Hall -- the list is endless. Elsewhere there's the Colloseum in Rome, the Houses of Parliament in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, you get the idea -- iconography is just one of the things that makes great cities great.

But why? Why are they so important?

Because, in their way, they tell the story of the city, they define them -- and they link the past to the present, the present to the future. They endure -- for the most part. The destruction of the World Trade Centers and the burning down of Notre Dame in Paris were so tragic because these strong images of their respective cities were violently wiped away. It wasn't just the physical destruction and the awful deaths, it was that the sense of the cities and their identities had become unmoored, the cities' physic roots had been pulled out. 

Icons are not only part of their cities's identities but of their residents and visitors as well. 

And yet ... some icons are unintentional. Sometimes a store or something else becomes so beloved, so integral to the commmunity it exists in, that it takes on icon status. 

A few examples that have been in the news recently:

The Paris Movie theater, that elegant, wonderful little place right across from the Plaza Hotel and Central Park, recently closed -- an NYC icon that had vanished. But it's been saved -- thanks to Netflix! It's become so integral to the neighborhood, a small bastion of culture and respite in the middle of a busy commercial area, that its closure made many so sad that Netflix decided to ride to the rescue. So another NYC icon endures ... for now ...

Then there's the Astor Place K-Mart. Now Astor Place is about as funky downtown Manhattan as NYC gets and the K-Mart, which opened in 1996, was considered a square intruder into this land of the tragically hip. But overtime, as it usefulness to the neighborhood become apparent, it became a much-loved, much-frequented icon. The fact that K-Mart is so uncool is what made it cool. But sadly it's going away, soon to be replaced by a Wegmans. An icon, a very unintentional of sorts, fading away.

Fortunately there's something else nearby that's remaining -- the Ralph Lauren billboard on Houston Street. It's so huge, so in-your-face, and the designer's ads on it are so gorgeous and sexy, that it's become an icon all its own. Celebrities and models feel that they have "made it", not when their ads appear on TV or in magazines or online, but when their ads appear on this billboard. Its power is in its size and shamelessness, "the medium is the message." Its iconic status comes from its sheer boldness, about as NYC as trait as there is. 

So NYC icons aren't always pre-planned, carefully built structures -- sometimes they arise out of utility and the profit-motive, and yet, when they do, the joy they create makes them icons of the city, icons of our hearts.  

Mr NYC in Paris: Le Grande Finale

And so now we come to the end. This will be the last post about my Paris trip and my personal favorite -- pictures from the nighttime bus tour we took.

It whizzed us around the city as darkness fell and the city of lights began to shine. So many of the places we had seen looked different, and even more beautiful, in the evening lights (even my oldest kid, who likes to be grouchy all the time, broke out into a smile). 

In addition to all the famous sights we also saw places like the L'Olympia Theater (where the Velvet Underground reunited in 1993 and recorded their big double live album) and the original Moulin Rouge. An incredible, memorable night!

Interview: Jean-Pierre Dorleac, International Costume Designer, on His Career and "Quantum Leap"

“Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime … "

In the early 1990s, when I was a youngster, the Golden Age of Television had yet to arrive. There were no streaming shows and cable television didn't have many original (or good) shows then. The big networks still ruled absolutely. Hit shows were watched by twenty to thirty million people each week, and even lesser-rated shows got around ten million or so viewers. The audience sizes back then are unimaginable today. This was the era of LA Law, Doogie Howser, thirtysomething, Cheers, The Cosby Show, Growing Pains, Dallas, etc. -- shows about lawyers, doctors, cops, families, etc. which were mostly boring to me and my fellow adolescents. But there was one show that was a huge exception, standing out and shining brightly like a star, a show that my friends and I were utterly obsessed with – Quantum Leap.

Quantum Leap was one part science fiction, one part history lesson of the second half of the twentieth-century, and one part buddy comedy. It’s about a brilliant scientist named Sam Beckett who, in the late 1990s, builds a time machine called Project Quantum Leap and finds himself “leaping” into the bodies and lives of different people at different places in the past. Sam is accompanied on his leaps by his friend from the future, Al – a cigar-chomping, quip-a-minute retired Navy man who appears as a hologram (Al steps into something called an imaging chamber at Project Quantum Leap linked to Sam’s brain, and only Sam can see and hear him – except for, as we learn, small children and the mentally disabled). In each episode, Al tells Sam what history he must change, what he needs to “make right that once went wrong” so that Sam can then “leap out” and into a new adventure or – as is always teased – back home to the future.

And for a show about time-travel, it’s fair to say that Quantum Leap was way ahead of its time. When Sam landed in a new place and time each week, the episode would hook the viewers in with the music and clothes and scenery – and that would brilliantly set the stage to introduce the characters and, more deeply, force us to confront much that was uncomfortable in our recent past. Years before #MeToo and Black Lives Matter, Quantum Leap made Americans reckon with their county’s ingrained racism and sexism. While the stories and characters might be sentimental, it was always brutally honest: yes, the South in the 1950s was racist as hell; yes, the New York City corporate world of the 1960s was sexist as hell (this was more than 25 years before Mad Men felt the need to remind us week after week); yes, the military was deeply homophobic; yes, the Cuban Missile Crises and Kennedy Assassination made everyone nuts; and yes, the Vietnam war was a tragedy that haunts our country, even to this day. Yes, the second half of the twentieth century in America was a wild, crazy place -- and Quantum Leap dramatized it so well and so originally.

Quantum Leap ran from 1989 until 1993 and each week was a masterclass in writing, acting, and production Along with shows like Twin Peaks, Larry Sanders and The Days and Night of Molly Dodd, it paved the way for the Golden Age of Television that we enjoy today.

As I mentioned, for a show that jumped around several decades between the 1950s and 1980s, the costumes were extremely important. And the costumes on Quantum Leap were brilliant – they accentuated the characters, gave them a dimensionality beyond the story and script, rooted them not only in the time and place they were living in but also were extensions of who these particular people were – and helped us understand what was going wrong with them so that Sam could set their lives to right.

Almost all the costumes on Quantum Leap were the work of one man, Jean-Pierre Dorleac, a name that popped out every week in the opening credits. Jean-Pierre has had a truly legendary career in show business, designing costumes for the original Battlestar Gallactica in the late 1970s and other classic shows like Max Headroom, Airwolf, and Jake and the Fatman as well as movies like The Blue Lagoon and The Only Thrill. He’s won an Emmy and worked in theater and opera as well, all over the world. His long and successful career is a tribute to his great talent and eye for how the costume can help make the character.

Jean-Pierre has a lively Twitter presence and, while he had a long and varied career in many mediums, it’s clear that his time on Quantum Leap was very special to him. He was the costume designer for almost every episode (except the last five) and he probably had the biggest, most challenging, and most enjoyable costume design job in all of television history. That’s why it was AWESOME that Jean-Pierre was kind enough to answer some of Mr NYC’s fanboy questions about his career, his work on Quantum Leap (especially some of the NYC episodes), and what he thinks the legacy of the show is in the 21st century, almost 30 years since it went off the air.

Thank you so much for doing this interview Jean-Pierre. 

First, I would like to say thank you very much for your interest in my work, especially “QUANTUM LEAP.”

Tell us a little bit about your background and how you became a costume designer.

I have been in show business since I was 10 years old, when I was featured in a review in England (where I received my formative education) singing and dancing to a popular song of the era. “Keep Your Sunny Side Up.” My performance, which turned out to be quiet entertaining and captivating, launched me on the road of entertainment.

I went on to perform in stage productions, radio and eventually television and film as an actor. Sometimes, due to restricted budget, I made my own costumes from scratch. In the sixties when I was studying for a degree in Historic Apparel, I went to work for various designers in Paris as a workroom assistant, shopping textiles, making patterns, and helping in fitting (by handing the designer pins at first). Dior, Cardin, and Givenchy were amongst the notable designers I worked for. I was still doing theater at the time, which at times, required my participation in the costumes I wore. One of the plays I did, “Oh, Dad, Poor Dad, Mama’s Hung You in the Closet and I’m feeling So Sad,” lost its costume designer to illness, and I volunteered to take over. My work created such sensational reviews, I thereafter concentrated more on the designing aspect of entertainment than on being a performer. Soon, because of my special knowledge in 18th Century apparel, I was asked to be the historical consultant to the costume designer for the Royal Shakespeare’s production of Peter Weiss’ bizarre play, “Marat/Sade” concerning the aftermath of the French revolution as performed by the inmates of a mental institution outside Paris. It won many awards and brought me to New York when it opened there, and consequently to Los Angles where the east coast world premiere was staged. I won the Los Angeles Drama Critics Circle award for the costume designs in 1973.

Fate had a very funny, supplementary hand in its success, which is fully explained in my book, “The Naked Truth” available at Amazon.com, eBay, and at my website www.jean-pierredorleac.com.

In time, I realized through my experiences in the making of costumes for the theater, and the expertise I have developed in couture creations, it had culminated in an ability to create costumes that had an underlying, subliminal message, placing them apart from just being attractive and in sync with the narrative.

Within three years I did another two dozen well-known plays in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Seattle, New York, Paris, Berlin, London, and Hawaii. And through them, I caught the attention of Edith Head, who then mentored me. Before long, renowned actress, Nancy Walker, requested me to do her costumes alone for her new series in 1977, “Blansky’s Beauties.” Through this, I was inducted into the entertainment’s union, The Costume Designers Guild, that opened more doors to other venues, like my first feature with Henry Fonda, Susan Sarandon and Eileen Brennan, “The Great Smokey Road Block” (a terrible title on a badly shot film with a sensational cast, that bombed).

Although I had become pigeon-holed as mostly a period costume designer, Universal recognized my special talents in fantasy and I was offered Battlestar Galactica in 1978, for which I went on to win an Emmy. I, of course, jumped at the chance to do the show, mainly because it would offer a different aspect of my abilities to the industry as well as the public.

You worked on lots of TV shows and movies over the decades but, on Twitter, it seems like your work on Quantum Leap remains close to your heart. How did you end up working on the show?

One of the associate producers on Battlestar Galactica was Don Bellisario. Matter of fact, he wrote the script for which I won my Emmy. Following the series demise, Don produced a wonderful show entitled The Tales of the Gold Monkey. During its run, he asked me to do a spinoff series from Magnum P.I, that never was aired, but I did become his favorite designer. So, years later, when Quantum Leap was done, he called me in after they shot the pilot episode, to redo a lot of the scenes in it, specifically an entirely new wardrobe for Dean Stockwell, playing a very sybaritic fellow named “Al.” I stayed and did EVERY show in all the season thereafter, except for the last five when I left the production to do Heart and Souls in San Francisco with Robert Downey, Jr., Kyra Sedgwick, Elizabeth Shue, Charles Grodin, and Alfre Woodard.

For nearly every episode you had to design costumes for a different decade between the 1950s and 1980s, as well as for a different part of the country. It must have been a both big creative joy and challenge. How did you approach creating costumes for not only a specific era but also for totally new characters each time?

By the time Quantum Leap came along, I had developed a knowledge of the 20th Century that surpassed all the other earlier periods. I don’t think you could fill half-a-page of what I DON’T KNOW regarding the trends in fashion for the last hundred and fifty years. Therefore, QL came easy to me. I didn’t have to do much research for any of the episodes unless I was looking for something that was out of the ordinary. The one thing that comes to mind immediately was the 18th Century stylization for the wedding dress in “Sea Bride”. I wanted to design something lovely, because it was a wedding dress, yet something comical at the same time, so that Beverly Leech has to struggle with it in the opening scene when she has to hide in the ship’s small stateroom closet. I remember combing old 1957 magazines to find that Dior had used a pannier for some of his gowns at that time, and that gave me the idea for the design I needed. Everything else in that show, including the drop-dead red tango dress, and all the shows, thereafter, just came off the top of my head.

Character costume ideas come from the script. They are born when I begin to read it and then grow into a full figure by the end. Having learned from past endeavors, I want the character to blend with the other actors so there is continuity within their scenes yet have some unique characteristic that sets them apart. It requires imagination, especially with men, as they aren’t as bedecked as women.

There is an adage that goes, “If it ain’t on the page, it ain’t on the stage.”

I saw on Twitter that in one episode you had to create KKK outfits and that it was a hard and painful thing to do. What were some of the hardest costumes you had to create as well as some of the most fun?

Having lived and worked on five continents in the same number of decades, I have tried to learn as much as I can about people. One, it helps me incorporate character in my design, and two, I learn about diversity and how it brings individuality to everyone. Each person has something wonderful to express in how they dress, no matter how much someone else thinks differently. Everyone’s ideas and concepts matter. The two things I abhor are bigots and fabulist. I have a hard time with titles as well, as I have always felt they cover a lot of sins. I’ve met as many people with an academic, medical, engineering, theatrical, artistic, and other degrees, as I have met people who know more by experiencing life and learning the hard way through vocational training. I believe the value of someone’s abilities lie in the merit of their work, not how much they can attract the public’s fancy by being a flash in the pan with a glorified handle.

Having to generate a faction of history by making KKK robes, as there were none from the 50’s in existence, mainly due to changes in design, I was faced with having to create the actual monstrosities, including The Grand Dragon in red. It upset me very much, just in knowing how abhorrent the sight of them would be to many people that were my friends, especially in the south, where the episode occurred. In other episodes of QL, over the years, I had to come up with Nazi and Russian uniforms, but they were ordered from costume houses. They were not of my creation. But the KKK robes that I watched being constructed, really left me sick.

On the other hand, there were many fun things I did for the show that left me elated. There was “Play It Again Sam,” (with the widow who couldn’t help it, if she looked good in black), “Sea Bride,” “One Strobe Over the Line” (glamor, glamor, glamor)“A Single Drop of Rain,” “Glitter Rock,” (Rock the Redhead), “Miss Deep South” (especially the silly Carmen Miranda get-up for ‘Quanta La Gusta’), “What Price Gloria” (Sam’s dinner ensemble with the quivering feather hat), “Private Dancer,” “Southern Comfort” (all those wanton women in lingerie) and “It’s a Wonderful Leap,” among many.

Okay, let’s get to the NYC part. You designed the costumes for the brilliant episode “What Price Gloria” where Sam becomes a secretary dealing with sexual harassment. What are your memories about that episode and the challenges of making Scott Bakula an attractive, dignified professional woman in 1961 NYC?

It didn’t start with Sam. Nothing ever did. It started with Gloria, who you are supposed to be seeing. She was a gorgeous woman. It’s always easy to dress gorgeous women as everyone looks at their faces, not what they’re wearing. And if she were curvy and appealing, it was even easier. I choose simple sheaths that weren’t revealing in anyway at the office, with smart but subtle jewelry. As the story progressed, I selected more feminine styles when we realized that it wasn’t how Gloria presented herself that was making the wolf howl, it was his vain glorious believe in himself. I tried to choose designs that were very reminiscent of the early 60’s and especially chic because it took place in New York City’s business world. I was helped in keeping the look light by the fact that it took place in October of 1961, in the Big Apple. Having lived there at the time, I knew what the weather could be like.

One of the best episodes of Quantum Leap, as well as maybe the best NYC episode, is “Private Dancer” where Sam becomes a Chippendales’ dancer in 1979 and saves a deaf lady from a horrible fate. That episode is both one of the most hilarious and poignant episodes of TV I’ve ever seen on any show (the beginning of the episode, where Sam leaps into the dancer mid-jump, with screaming women all around, Kool and Gang’s “Ladies Night” blaring in the background is one of the funniest things ever). Also, it was probably the most realistic portrayal of late 1970s NYC I’ve ever seen, the costumes are clearly from the 1970s but don’t have a “paper-dollish” look and seem to capture how these struggling dancers at that time would have really dressed. What do you remember about working on that episode?

Well, it wasn’t about putting Sam in next to nothing as the Zorro dressed dancer! That was fun. What was a lot of work, were the dresses to be used in the dance sequences. I had seen Debbie Allen’s choreography in other films and knew I was going to have to have outfits that twirled, floated, and looked seductive, yet classy. They also couldn’t look expensive as these dancers had no money and when they bought things, they tended to stay with styles similar to workout/rehearsal garments.

Debbie Allen’s white gown, at the disco, was little more than four panels of triangular shaped wedges of white matte jersey with self-string straps, belt, and a self-wrapped turban. And the red handkerchief dress worn for the final audition by the young girl was silk jersey with a minimal scattering of sequins at the V-neckline and at the edges of the numerous skirt panels. I wanted simplicity at its best for these scenes as the dance was supposed to be the center of attention and where your mind should linger.

The last NYC episode I’ll ask about is “It’s a Wonderful Leap” that takes place in 1958. In that episode you had to turn Scott Bakula into a Jewish cab driver. His costume and look in that episode, especially the glasses, is quite memorable (so much so that Stephen Colbert referenced that episode in 2015 because, sadly, it includes a child Donald Trump). I also remember all the costumes had a vibrant, 1950’s feel about them. Was that a fun episode to work on (Trump excluded)?

Funny, but I have blanked out tRump being in it! God knows why…ha ha ha ha!

Yes, “It’s a Wonderful Leap” was a wonderful show. After the various times I had spent in NYC, I was quite knowledgeable regarding Hell’s Kitchen, so Sam’s costume was quite easy to put together. I think I only bought one hat to the fitting as I knew it was perfect with the turtlenecks, scarf and beaten jacket of a cabdriver. The glasses were something I picked out from a selection that Props had, as they are a prop item on a shoot.

Most of my time was spent with my old, dear friend Liz Torres. I had known her since 1975 when she had appeared at the Backlot Room of Studio One, in Hollywood.

Liz is one of the most talented actresses in the world who can sing like a bird, dance like a ballerina, and realistically act the hell out a scene. I knew I didn’t have to create much of a character for her as it would all come from her. So, I went for a magical look in whites and grays that didn’t grab your attention, giving away the fact that she was ghost from the 20’s. We made everything, including her hat, shoes, coat, and dress that was beaded. I found old garters and we rolled her stockings down to just below her knees and rouged them…very de rigueur for a flapper of that period.

Longshots on television are rare, so when Liz found out there was going to be one on the street, she spoke with the director first, and then improvised the Charleston dance step so the audience could see our efforts with the stockings and garters. She was definitely one of my favorite actresses of all the ones that I’ve ever worked with.

The rapport between Sam (Scott Bakula) and Al (Dean Stockwell) was amazing, they worked brilliantly together. Did you ever get to watch them work and create that magic?

Yes, many times. I went to the set every day when they were on the lot, and many times when they were on location as well. A major part of my job as a costume designer for film or television, is being on the set to establish a new costume that has never seen before, not even by Dean. Having been in the business for so many years, Dean didn’t like to deal with fittings. So, he and I established a look for him at the beginning. I also had the studio tailor take all his sizes. After a month, we were so in sync, I simple designed his outfits without anyone’s input, and took them to the set the day they worked. He would put them on in his motor home, and then come out with his cigar and parade around the set where all the grips, lighting technicians, sound, camera men and props would ooh and ah about how crazy they were. He loved showing them off as much as he did acting in them.

He and Scott worked together in tandem as they were both extremely professional and didn’t mess around; it was always a business, that they made appear like fun. But they always knew their lines and hit their marks right on time. No one had to wait for either of them.

Finally, even though the show’s been off the air for almost 30 years, my friends and my wife still love it. What do you think is Quantum Leap’s legacy? Was it one of the shows that paved the way for the later Golden Age of TV?

I think its legacy was the great scripts. I don’t remember too many that didn’t hold my interest all the way though. I loved the fact that they also taught some moral responsibility amidst all the foolery. Plus, even though it was achieved though writer manipulation, there was usually a pretty rewarding and uplifting ending that sometime was quite nostalgic.

I’m very rewarded by the followers on Twitter, who, for the most part, didn’t see the show when it was first released, but have becomes fans over the decades from the many times it has aired. That is very unusual for a TV series; it hasn’t been that way with the many other shows I’ve done. But I’m forever getting a residual check for the episode I appeared in, “Shock Theater,” so I know the show is always airing somewhere in the world.

And I’m grateful after all these years that it has become the phenomenal cult hit it is. Between it, “Somewhere in Time,” and “Battlestar Galactica” my costumes have been exhibited all over the world and I have lectured as much as I have done. Examples of my creations have been exhibited worldwide. Benefits for AIDS Project Los Angeles have celebrated my work, as have The Mannequins Auxiliary of the Assistance League of Southern California where an hour long, dazzling fashion show paraded my creations. The Los Angeles County Museum of Arts showcased my costumes and sketches in their exhibition and book, HOLLYWOOD AND HISTORY: COSTUME DESIGN IN FILM, as well as exhibitions at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City; La Palais de la Civilization, Montreal, Canada; and La Place Vendôme, Paris, France. Recently, ATAS exhibited thirteen examples at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in Los Angeles, in a presentation of award-winning television costumes. 

What a career! What a legacy! Thank you so much Jean-Pierre!

Make sure to visit Jean-Pierre’s website and check out his book at the links above. Also, delve into Mr. NYC’s QL fandom here.