As someone who once moonlighted in the world of professional ballet, trust me, it's a brutal business. You have to be great in order to get into any ballet company, let alone the New York City Ballet -- simply being "good" or even "very good" doesn't cut it. Greatness is a minimal job requirement.
And imagine being a black ballet dancer in what is one of the most lily white of artistic endeavours? And imagine entering that world as a black man more than sixty years ago?
A kid from Harlem born in 1934, Arthur's talent for dance brought him downtown to the High School for the Performing Arts and eventually the School of American Ballet -- and then, finally, to the New York City Ballet in 1958. He rose to become a principal dancer in 1962 -- meaning his talent was great on top of great. At least that's what his boss, the legendary George Balanchine, thought.
Later in life, Arthur Mitchell founded the Dance Theater of Harlem and was a cultural ambassador. Not only was he a great dancer but he was also an entreprenaur and a teacher. He died yesterday at the age of 84.
Mitchel was a legend, a trailblazer, a barrier breaker, often called the "Jackie Robinson of ballet". He made his profession and city a better place.
New York City Ballet has cancelled performances for "The Nutcracker" for December of this year. There are very tentative plans perhaps to stage it in early 2021 but that's not certain.
"The Nutcracker" was first staged by City Ballet in 1954, nearly 70 years ago, and has been performed every year without fail since then. Not even terrorist attacks or economic crises has stopped it -- but a pandemic did. This is the original and definitive American version of this ballet classic, the American Mother of All Nutcrackers.
This is a huge financial hit for City Ballet -- "The Nutcracker" is their Avengers, their Star Wars, their sure-fire hit franchise that just mints money without fail. It's the ballet that people who otherwise don't go to the ballet go to see. I was stunned to see that it grosses over $15 million a year for City Ballet, more than some movies.
It's also a big cultural loss for NYC -- along with the lighting of the Rockefeller Christmas tree and New Year's Eve in Times Square, it's one of the biggest holiday events in the city. So this is a big loss -- for now.
No doubt the Sugarplum Fairy will dance once more.
P.S. I was in "The Nutcracker" as a kid as I've blogged about before.
In showbusiness there are lots of people called "multihyphenates" i.e. people who practice more than one craft. Examples: writer-director, director-producer, actor-wrestling star, actress-lifestyle entrepreneur, etc.
I consider myself a bit of a multiphenate too but the late Terri Hall might be NYC's most exotic and interesting one.
Born in 1953 and originally from upstate New York, Terri came to NYC in high school to train as a ballerina. She had some success, dancing for companies such as American Ballet Theatre (like me) and, overseas, the Monte Carlo City Ballet and Stuttgart Ballet Company. She must have been a really good dancer because those were (and are) some of the top ballet companies in the world. But her ballet career was short -- it appears that drugs and mental illness might have contributed to that -- and by the age of 21 she was doing adult films.
But even in that notorious business, Terri had some success. For the next ten years she made many such films, including some "golden age classics" like The Opening of Misty Beethoven and The Story of Joanna. She worked with many of the top directors and performers of this time like the legendary (and legendarily well-endowed) John Holmes.
Eventually Terri left the adult biz but didn't disapear from performing right away: she worked as a model for famous photographers, including for the even more notorious and controversial Robert Mapplethorpe. The work she did for him and others was so noteworthy that it was even displayed at the Whitney Museum!
Sadly Terri didn't live long -- eventually she left NYC, wound up in Pennsylvania, had various health problems, and apparently died in 2007. She would have only been 53/54 years old -- gone too soon.
And yet she left her mark.
Even though Terri Hall wasn't some great beauty, her allure was undeniable. She just had that "thing." And how many us can say that we danced with top ballet companies, starred in some classic adult films with famous stars, and modeled for NYC's most famous photographer? That's an amazing legacy -- and an amazing multihyphenate one: a ballerina-adult star-photographer model.
On the face of it, the 1970s movies Serpico and The Turning Point couldn't be more different: the former is a real-life story about dirty cops, the latter is a fictional story about ballet.
But watching them makes you realize they share a lot in common: besides both movies being made in the 1970s in NYC, they are gritty, brutal, totally realistic deep-dives into high-pressure, competitive, all-consuming worlds that their denizens both love and revile, that reach into the very cores of their being, enthralling and warping them, and completing devouring their lives.
Back in the 1970s Hollywood used to make movies like these, movies where not everyone and everything was beautiful, where the world was reflected back to us in all of its deformed glory, where we saw and heard people who were in pain, and where things didn't always end happily. These movies were overshadowed by many othe great classics from that time (The French Connection, The Godfather, The Exorcist, Jaws, Rocky, Star Wars, The Deer Hunter, Apocalypse Now, you name 'em), but these two slice-of-life movies of believable realism cut just as deep emotionally as any of those other great '70s flicks.
Serpico stars Al Pacino as real-life cop Frank Serpico who "blew the whistle" on massive, entranched corruption within the NYPD, leading to the Knapp Commission and major reforms. Serpico (who's still alive!) was an odd fit with the NYPD, more of a hippy than a tough guy, someone who didn't believe violence and brute force necessarily meant good policing, and someone who didn't think corruption should ever be "business as usual". He took his life into his hands to expose the corruption and, afterwards, quit the NYPD and left the country. Directed by Sidney Lumet at the height of his career, the movie was made just a year after the main events in the film so it was an almost real-time retelling of how and why Serpico changed the NYPD -- and the whole city -- forever. Pacino was just then becoming a star -- the first Godfather movie had just come out and he was just about to start work on the second one -- but this film showed his incredible range, his ability to transform into complicated people, the depth of a soul that is both revealing and mysterious. The film is also a very realistic look at what NYC was like back in the early 1970s and, watching it now, you see how much the city has changed while also realizing that problems with policing are, well, perennial.
The Turning Point is much different but no less intense: as someone who had experience in the world of professional ballet, I can tell you that it's a tough, insular, and unforgiving world. People in ballet LOVE balletto an irrational level, it completely dominates their minds and bodies, they speak and think and do nothing else. They sacrifice their lives and physical, mental, and emotional well-being in pursuit of career in it. There is no divide between their personal and professional lives. This film asks but doesn't attempt to answer this question: at what price glory? Shirley McClaine stars as DeeDee, a woman who relinquished a ballet career to move with her former dancer husband Wayne (Tom Skerritt) to Oklahoma City and raise a family and live a quiet life. Events ensue bringing DeeDee and her daughter Emilia to NYC where Emilia shines with the company, and where DeeDee enounters her frenemy Emma (the always glorious Anne Bancroft) who started with the company at the same time as DeeDee, stayed, and become a big ballet star. There are affairs, fights, and great performances throughout the film that show, in raw and gorgeous ways, the constant fight between ambition and personal happiness, between career and family, about understanding your real values, and the sacrfifices and sadness that go with both. The film offers no easy answers and does what all great movies do -- it shows and doesn't tell (including showing lots of great ballet dancing). It's a film that moves you and makes you think about own life and values.
So if you want to see two old NYC movies that feel just as relevant today as they were more than 40 years ago, I can't suggest Serpico and The Turning Point enough.
Over the years I've blogged about my childhood experiences in the world of professional ballet. Like much of what we might consider "showbiz", it's a rough, grown-up world for a young developing child to intersect with, a place where the innocence and vulnerability of youth smashes up against the brutal realities of an exacting, demanding profession.
She played Marie in "The Nutcracker" at the New York City Ballet in 1976 (you can read her review here) and became the subject of a book that same year called A Very Young Dancer. It was a backstage collection of photographs showing her rehearsing for the famous ballet, a behind-the-scenes "making of" look at the magical production. (Remember, back then, we didn't have reality TV or social media or anything like that so the public rarely saw the behind the curtain of cultural touchstones.) The book became a surprise bestseller, inspired many young women to pursue dance, and Stephanie became a temporary celebrity.
However, like in my experience, it turned sour when the teenage years arrived. She began to misbehave at the School of American Ballet (the feeder school for the New York City Ballet and where the kids for "The Nutcracker" come from), her dancing suffered, and eventually she was kicked out of the school. Her dreams of being a professional dancer were shattered and, it appears, she never got over it. This dissapointment was also exacerbated by clinical depression.
In her adult years, she migrated to Wyoming and she died there, from suicide apparently, at agae 56. She seems to have had a vagabond life but also had some good people in it and some love. It's a sad ending to her life. But I hope she had some happiness from time to time and that she's at peace now.
A new leadership team was announced today for the New York City Ballet. This might not seem like big news but, in a way, it is.
Since its founding almost 70 years ago, this important NYC cultural institution has only had two leaders -- George Balanchine and Peter Martins. Balanchine was not only the founder but also a brilliant, historic choreographer, the man who popularized ballet in NYC and America. It's not wrong to call him, in many ways, the godfather of American ballet. Martins, his successor, ran the company with an iron-fist for almost 35 years. He kept the company going but was, apparently, a bit of a tyrant, and he retired in late 2017 after he got all #MeToo'd.
I've blogged about my experiences with NYCB as a kid so, obviously, I took some interest in this story. It'll be interesting to see what the future for this company will be like.
The thing about Italy is that, like all great places, it isn't just one place or one thing. There are so many parts of Italy that are so distinct and special, so unique unto themselves -- cities like Rome, Naples, Florence, Naples, Turin, Venice and others; areas like Tuscany, Lombardi, Sicily and others -- that visiting just one of them is an amazing experience unto itself.
And, of course, NYC and Italy have many historical links.
Of course, a big reason why Italy is so diverse and fascinating is that for roughly 1500 years -- after the collapse of the Roman Empire in the 5th century AD and the unification or "risorgimento" in the 19th century -- Italy as a country didn't exist. It was a collection of small kingdoms, duchies, city states, and republics -- and thus each city and region fashioned its own identiy.
I've visited Venice and Rome multiple times but, until recently, had only spent one night in the city of Milan. That changed last month when I visited the city for almost a week -- first for work, then for fun, with my wife. We had an amazing time and here I'll tell you all about it!
First, a few things to understand about Milan. It's very far north, very close to the Swiss border, and it's not only the biggest city in all of Italy but it's one of the biggest cities in all of Europe. It's also really rich, one of the biggest banking, fashion, and chemical capitals of the word. There's even a couple of jokes about this -- "For every church in Rome, there's a bank in Milan" and "Milan works so the rest of Italy doesn't have to."
While Milan has an ancient history, its doesn't have quite the same feeling of antiquity that Rome obviously does. Milan lives in the future. But it's still replete with history and we saw a lot of it.
The center of the city, what "ties it together", is the Duomo Cathedral. A massive structure, the Duomo is the biggest cathedral in Italy -- except for St. John's Basilica in Vatican City, technically not Italy -- and all the rest of Europe. It took 600 years to build -- between the 1300s and the 1900s -- and you can see why: it is the most ornate, intricately designed house of worship that you'll ever see. It's drench withed marble statues, beautifully carved, on the walls of Duomo and on the top of the cathedral -- that you can visit and that also provides amazing views of the square and city beyond the Duomo. We spent a long time there and this is what we saw:
Across from the Duomo, as you can see, is the King Victor Emmanuelle statue and the entrance to the Galleria which has lots of high-end stores. After we walked around the Duomo and the Galleria, we treated ourselves to a lovely Aperale Spritz:
That night we went to a ballet at the world famous La Scala Theater. It was under construction when we got there but, along the way, we saw a beautiful LED exhibit and headquarters for the 2026 Winter Olympics which will be held in Milan:
In fact, as the wife and I were crossing the street toward La Scala, a young guy behind us asked if we were American and, when we said we were, he excitedly told us that he was from East Flatbush, Brooklyn and was in Milan visiting a friend -- small town, small world!
Then we saw the ballet that consisted of three seperate pieces choreogrpahed, ironically, by Jerome Robbins and George Balanchine of the New York City ballet. Here's the program of the show we saw as well as the stunning interiors of La Scala (from our nosebleed seats):
Painted on the wall of the church, Da Vinci created the Last Supper between 1494-1498. You shoud read about it at the link above but a few interesting things to note about this painting: 1) Because it's painted on a wall, many people think the Last Supper is a "fresco" but it's not -- it's a "deco" or a mural. A fresco is something painted on wet plaster, which means it's captured and dried, much like a photograph. A mural is painted on dry wall -- like the Last Supper was. 2) You'll notice, in looking at the painting, that almost everything is grouped in threes and that Jesus himself looks like a triangle. This represents the Holy Trinity -- Father, Son and Holy Ghost. It's a stunning painting and, according to our tour guide, his greatest painting ever, even better than the Mona Lisa in Paris.
The church protects the Last Supper like a nuclear warhead -- it's in a air-controlled room, only a few people can visit it at a time for about 15 minutes, and you can go to through a few rooms before you get access to it. Also, there's another painting across from it, The Cruxification by Giovanni Donato da Montorfano, that is also an amazing thing:
Also, during World War II, Milan was heavily bombed by the Allies. The Last Supper was protected by a whole bunch of sandbags that kept it safe. In addition, there's a lovely little garden behind the church is a fountain with a some frogs that, our guide told us "No kissa, no prinza."
That afternoone was visited the stunning Sforza Castle. It was built by the family the ruled Milan in the 15th century and it's a huge fortress with massive battlements, courtyards, and walls:
On our last day, we visited the funky, vibrant, artistic neighborhood of La Brera -- it's like a Soho, Williamsburg, Upper West Side place -- full of culture, history, good food, and highly walkable. While there, we visited the Palazzo Brera which is a big building full of art academies and cultural institutions. It also has a beautiful garden in the back that was built by the Austrian Empress Maria Theresa in 1775 when Milan was part of the Habsburg Empire:
And, nearby, we also found another cute little church:
As you can see, there's so many fascinating and beautiful things to see in Milan that it's hard even to comprehend it all. Just so you also know, Milan has a really great Metro system, it's a super easy city to get around.
Finally, the food! We ate two really great meals in Milan that signify everything that's great about Italy -- the nouvelle restaurant 28 Posti where we ate a delicious tasting menu (and where we met a lovely couple from Chicago who were having a last big trip before the expected birth of their child in 2025) and the Boeucc, an amazing place that's been in business for 1696 -- it's older than the country of Italy itself! We had a dinner than included an incredibly good truffle pasta -- super good!
And then we left. Back to NYC. Just so you know, the airport is quite far from the city of Milan -- it's an hour by train. It's always painful to be in a train station in Italy because you can see all the amazing cities that are just one ride away, and it's tempting not to just hop onto one of them and go to Venice, Verona or so many other places:
But Milan is a great place and totally worth seeing.
I've been to Italy a few times now but, as indicated earlier, mostly in Venice and Rome. As a kid I spent some time in Florence and saw the David Statue and the Duomo there but I haven't been back since. One day I shall return there and also go to many other great places in Italy. And, when I do, I'll be sure to blog about it all here!
This summer I finally got around to seeing a movie that had been on my "When I get around to it" list for literally decades -- the original 1980 classic Fame.
The late great movie critic Robert Ebert wrote a review of Fame when it was originally released that is so good, so beautifully descriptive, that I'll quote part of it here (I certainly can't write anything better):
"Fame" is a genuine treasure, moving and entertaining, a movie that understands being a teen-ager as well as Breaking Away did, but studies its characters in a completely different milieu. It's the other side of the coin: A big-city, aggressive, cranked-up movie to play against the quieter traditions of Breaking Away's small Indiana college town. Fame is all New York City. It's populated by rich kids, ghetto kids, kids with real talent, and kids with mothers who think they have real talent. They all go into the hopper, into a high school of kids who are worked harder because they're "special" -- even if they're secretly not so sure they're so special.
Fame centers around a bunch of kids over their four years at the High School of the Performing Arts, otherwise known as "LaGuardia." On the one hand they are regular high school kids, blossoming teenagers with all the regular wants and fears and academic pressures, but, in addition to their studies, they are also training to become actors, dancers, and musicians. Drawn to the school from all walks of life, from across all five boroughs -- rich and poor, black and white, very talented to barely talented -- they work hard, dream hard, and experience numerous joys and heartbreaks. The movie centers around Montgomery, an actor and closeted homosexual; Lisa, a dancer who becomes an actor; Coco -- a dancer and singer; LeRoy, a dancer who is as troubled as he is talented; Ralph, an actor and aspiring comedian, along with Doris, a shy fellow actor who falls in love with him; Bruno, a brilliant musician; and Hillary, a wise-cracking dancer who falls in love with LeRoy. The movie does not have a simple, straightforward plot but, instead, shows a series of interlinking stories, following the characters as their lives change and evolve over their four years together.
Released in May 1980, Fame became a sensation, a surprise box office hit considering that it had no famous stars, no simple or traditional plot, and was about, of all things, a bunch of odd-looking teenagers at a performing arts high school in NYC. It came at a pivotal moment for both New York City and America: NYC was still recovering from its mid-1970s almost-bankruptcy, and was still plagued with its "Fear City" moniker; culturally, however, it was thriving -- "Saturday Night Live" was the hottest thing on TV, Woody Allen was at the height of his career, Studio 54 was raging, and Broadway had big shows like "A Chorus Line" and "Annie" running. And then here comes along this little gem of a movie about a bunch of ragtag NYC kids trying to make it through high school while starting a career in the arts -- and audiences loved it.
America, on the other hand, was changing -- Ronald Reagan and the triumph of cultural and economic conservative was months away, and the country seemed more than ready to rid itself of the tumult of the 1960s and '70s. Fame, in some ways, was a last hurrah of that era, a paean to a time that was troubled but also creatively alive and exciting, a celebration of the arts and artists, and a love letter to NYC, a city that the rest of the country loved to hate. It was an early middle-finger to the political and cultural world to come -- but also, ironically, the unofficial beginning of the 1980s teen movie crazy.
Even though the movie is called Fame, it could also have been called "Sweaty" -- the students literally sweat for their art (especially the dancers) as much as they are sweating about their futures of making it in showbusiness. There are many uncomfortable scenes where the characters face the limitations of their talents, their relationships, their aspirations, their place in this crazy world of the arts. While this movie is a celebration of the artistic spirit, it's not sentimental in any way -- it brutally shows you the grimy, often sleazy showbiz world these kids inhabit, without sugarcoating it.
In that way, it's a real NYC movie.
As you might imagine, Fame is full of amazing acting, dancing and music. There are beautiful scenes of dancers moving gracefully, of musicians giving their all to make the best sounds they're capable of, of actors trying to nail a scene, and also wonderful show-stopping songs. These include the Oscar-winning title song "Fame (I'm Gonna Live Forever)", "Out Here on My Own", "Hot Lunch", and the amazing final number "I Sing the Body Electric" that is performed in rousing spirit at graduation. Everyone in the whole movie sings, "And in time, and in time, we will all ... be ... stars!" Most of them, of course, will never become stars -- but they can and should always dream.
And that's what this movie is all about -- always dreaming, never giving up, even when the world tells you that you should.
Fame has had a surprising after-life since it came out over 42 years ago. In 1982, it became a TV show that ran for five years, with some of the movie's actors joining the show along with a whole new cast of characters and stories. In the late 1990s there was a second, short-running series called "Fame: LA" with all new characters and stories set on the West Coast. And then, in 2009, there was a remake called, unimaginatively, Fame that the critics hated but had some box office success (Kelsey Grammer was in it if you can believe it). Fame was a forerunner to other "I wanna be in showbusiness" projects like Smash or Glee or even The Marvelous Mrs Maisel. In seems, in this era of a million TV shows, like the Fame property or IP or whatever is just ripe for a comeback -- heck, if they can bring back Full House and Quantum Leap, why not Fame?
A few ironies about this movie and my review of it:
First, the director. Even though Fame is a down-and-dirty NYC movie, it was directed by a British guy -- Alan Parker -- whose previous film had been the intense, Oscar-winning, Turkish-set triller, Midnight Express. Fame was obviously a big change of pace, and he would go on to direct other arts-centric movies like The Commitments and other intense movies like Mississippi Burning. A great talent, he died in 2020.
Second, Irene Cara. Oh, how I loved her! I was already planning to write this review before I learned, just days ago, that Irene Cara who played Coco in "Fame" had died at the age of 63. She is amazing in this movie, and performs its most brutal, emotionally intense scene. She also sings most of the songs, luminously, and, if someone became a big star out of "Fame", it was her. Three years later she would win an Oscar and a Grammy for writing and singing the song "Flashdance ... What a Feeling!", easily the best dance pop song ever. She was an amazing talent whose career and life ended far too early -- but her songs will truly "live forever."
Third, and finally, my "history" (of sorts) with Antonia Franceschi, who plays the funny, horny, and super-talented dancer Hillary in Fame. Antonia was a young aspiring dancer at the School of American Ballet when she was cast in Fame and, interestingly enough, even though the movie became a huge hit, Antonia eschewed an acting career to spend the next twelve years as a dancer at the New York City Ballet before embarking on a long career as a choreographer. Very recently, I contacted her to see if she would do an interview for this blog but it didn't quite work out, even though she was very polite and informative in her replies.
But here is the plot twist (of sorts) that was promised ... drum roll ...
I've blogged about how, back in the mid-1980s, I appeared in "The Nutcracker" at the New York City Ballet. Well, I recently went back to look at one of the old programs I saved for my run in "The Nutcracker" and guess who appeared with me (and many others) in the opening party-scene -- that's right, Antonia Franceschi! So yours truly, Mr NYC, has performed on stage with a cast member from Fame! How cool is that?
Fame is truly a classic, a movie that may be decades old but that feels so fresh, so alive, so true-to-life that it never gets old, never gets boring, never feels outdated.
It's a must-watch for anyone whoever was young, whoever loved the arts, and whoever loved NYC.
So color me surprised when I checked my daily podcast downloads this morning and saw that Macaulay Culkin was featured on the latest episode of WTF with Marc Maron. For those of you under thirty, allow me to provide some background: back in the early 1990s, Macaulay (or Mac as he's generally known by) was the biggest child movie star in the world and perhaps the biggest one since Shirley Temple. In 1990 he was in a Christmas movie called Home Alone and it was one of the biggest hits of that decade. It made him a movie star -- for a while -- and he appeared in the movie's successful sequel a couple years later plus another successful movie called My Girl. Then he made a bunch of other movies that most people didn't see. And then, by the late 1990s, he vanished. Until the early 2000s when he came back -- sort of. He did an off-Broadway play and some indie movies. Then ... he vanished again. And, since then, he's basically been absent from popular culture. What's Mac been doing? That's what he talks about in this podcast episode. It seems that he just lives on his movie money and travels and hangs out. He talks about his complicated family life and the fall-out with his father who used to manage his career. It's a fascinating, if somewhat sad, story. And, bizarrely, yours truly, yes Mr NYC himself (i.e. ME) is a small, very small, part of Mac's story. Back in the late 1980s, as a young child, I was a student at the School of American Ballet (SAB). I was one of small cadre of boy students. I was there for about four years and appeared in the New York City Ballet's The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center for three years. My last year there, and the last time I was in The Nutcracker, Mac had just joined SAB and we were in the same Nutcracker cast. We "worked" together for about three months. We didn't become friends (I found him annoying, he was always running around, seemed completely unable to focus) but we muddled through. I strongly remember his very large family hanging around as well as his father who, later on, he had an epic falling out with. They all seemed very noisy. After that Nutcracker year, I left SAB and didn't give this kid (like the others) a second thought. So, as you might imagine, it shocked me when, a couple years later, he popped up in this movie Home Alone (I didn't realize he acted and danced) and overnight became a sensation. It was a surreal, fun-house experience to see this. And, this morning, listening to this podcast, it was equally surreal to hear him talk about his time in The Nutcracker of which I was a part. I certainly hope Mac is happy and wish him well. I'm also so glad that I never got into show business and walked away from the mentally and emotionally punishing world of of child performing. It's not a surprise that he hasn't had a normal life when he certainly didn't have a normal child hood. It'd be interesting to talk with him again and, who knows, maybe I will. But it's strange when a small part of your childhood literally pops up one morning on your phone. Oh the times we live in.
Ever found a great old photograph or video from a long time ago? It's like discovering an ancient artifact from your past, a sort of personal archeological dig, unearthing living history.
You stare at your younger self -- or the younger selves of the other people in the picture or video -- and you experience a kind of headrush. The past becomes present, a memory turns vivid, something in your head escapes and becomes real before you -- and the thoughts and emotions you held at the time that have vanished suddenly well up again, like a pipe bursting from underground.
It's both amazing and unnerving, a unique mental and emotional sensation.
So that's how I felt when I recently found a 1988 performance of Romeo & Juliet on YouTube that was performed by American Ballet Theater on May 7, 1988, broadcast across America from the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center. (Shakespeare's famous play is danced to from a score by Sergei Prokofiev, one of the greatest ever written).
See, yours truly, Mr NYC, was in it -- as an eleven-year old boy with a funny wig in the background. You'll see there's two little boys in funny wigs in the background -- I'm the handsome one!
I have some memories of this night, mainly that it was just another performence (we did several) only this time I had to sign a release allowing my visage to be televisually blasted across the Fruited Plain -- and there were cameras in the balconies and audience staring at us. When I saw a recording of this later, I saw that I one point I scratched my nose (which all of America saw, how embarrasing) but my embrassment was trumped by the dancer Kevin McKensize (who played Romeo) rushing out for the dramatic finale -- wearing his sweatpants. This was a faux pas extrodinaire and, if you watch this, and has gone down in television history along with that Starbucks cup that popped up on Game of Thrones.
Anyway, this brought up some fond memories but I still feel the tension, the anxiety of that night. And it's hard to imagine that I was ever 11-years old!
Here's more info about this Great Performence. The recording appears to have been done by someone in San Diego who, for whatever reason, threw it up on YouTube. I saw in the comments section that one of the chaperone's for the kids (i.e. me and the other one) weighed-in on the sweatpants fiasco. Sadly I don't really remember her -- but I hope she's doing well!
Suzanne Ferrell was one of the greatest ballerinas in the history of the New York City Ballet. She was the muse of the great George Balanchine, who choreographed many ballets for her, and she was the company star for many years in the 1970s and '80s.
She continued at the company after the great man died in the early 1980s and then, after she retired, she became a ballet master, teaching and coaching other dancers. But then, in 1993, she was fired and banished from the company by the NYCB director Peter Martins with whom she had a bad relationship.
Well, now, Martins is gone, and Suzanne Ferrell is back, coaching dancers for NYCB once again.
It's impossible to imagine that she was gone from the company from more than a quarter of a century since she did so much to define it. And it's great that she agreed to come back after so much time.
It's also a reminder that talent should never be discarded and she always be cherished and engaged, no matter how much time has passed.
In the first year of this blog, I wrote about Robert Chambers -- the notorious "preppy murderer" who strangled a woman named Jennifer Levin to death one night in Central Park in 1986.
Before Lorena Bobbit, before OJ, before #MeToo, this was the big scandal that provoked the subject of violence towards women into the American conversation. The whole story was grotesque and sad. It was also an example of how men, especially handsome white men, who had committed horrific violence towards women (in this case, actual murder), got shockingly sympathetic treatment in the media and culture while the female victim became largely forgotten.
Chambers even claimed -- like so many predators do -- that he was the real victim in this case! He said that the slime petite Levin had actually tried to rape the massive, statuesque Chambers and that he was only acting in self-defence -- and some morons actually bought this BS. Chambers did some time, got out of jail, promptly became a drug dealer, and went back to prison. He's there now -- gone but not totally forgotten.
Now this case is the subject of an upcoming true-crime documentary -- revisiting 30+ year old scandals and stories seems to be all the rage these days. However, I'm curious to see how this case will be handled from a 2019 perspective -- and hopefully we'll learn less about Robert and more about Jennifer.
Talking about 1986, the final episode of The Deuce aired last night -- it ends in 1986 and then jumps ahead to 2019, showing in dramatic detail how Times Square and the city transformed in the 33-year interim but is still haunted by ghosts of the past. 1986 is a year I remember well -- I turned 10, debuted in The Nutcracker at City Ballet, went away to sleep away camp for the first time, visited England with my mom, and saw the Aerosmith/Run DMC "Walk This Way" video for the first time. I was blissfully naive about things like the Chambers chase at the time -- and wish I still was.
Before it became a broadcasting and podcasting powerhouse, WNYC was just the local city-owned radio station that reported on the news and events of the day. And every so often notable people would drop by the station for a chat -- and a moment in history would be captured forever.
That's why it's fascinating to hear the following legendary people getting brilliantly interviewed by a lady named Patricia Marx on WNYC in the 1960s:
- A 1960 interview with recently deceased journalist Neil Sheehan, talking about the situation in Vietnam -- almost thirty years before he wrote the definitive book on the war, A Bright Shining Lie.
- A 1961 interview with Lorraine Hansberry talking about her recently produced hit play A Raisin in the Sun. A black woman playwright having success on Broadway is still a rarity, even more so 60 years ago.
- A 1963 interview with Bob Hope, right after the release of the final Road movie.
- A two-part 1963 interview with New York City Ballet founder George Balanchine.
- Two seperate interviews from 1964 with groundbreaking comedians Dick Gregory and Mort Sahl.
- A 1964 interview with a very young Woody Allen, talking about his comedy act and how he's getting ready to appear in his first movie, What's New, Pussycat? The idea that this kid comic would eventually become a great director isn't even mentioned.
- A 1968 interview with David Halberstam about the war in Vietnam, years before he would publish The Best and the Brightest.
And many more.
History is being made all the time, we just don't realize it. When people are interviewed, they're simply sharing their thoughts and feelings about what's going in their lives and the world at that moment. Of course their lives and time moves on, things change, and that's how we make history. So that's why it's amazing to peak into or, in this case, listen, to a moment in history.
