Remembering WQXR 96.3 FM

If you scan the NYC radio dial and hit 105.9 FM, you'll land on the city's only classical music station WQXR 105.9 FM. But for nearly 80 years its home was a little further down at 96.3 FM. Back in 2009, when this blog was about 2 1/2 years old, I chronicled the station's historic move up the dial due to its change in ownership.

Between 1944 and 2009 WQXR was owned by The New York Times as a commercial entity. Not only did the station play classical music but it was, as you might imagine, heavy with news. In between the sonatas and interludes, symphonies and overtures, concertos and chamber music -- the whole array of the classical music cannon -- there would be news delivered directly by Times reporters. The station was a high-class, uber-sophisticate mixture of beautiful music and substantive infotainment. 

My dad used to listen to this station all the time, and I was introduced to all sorts of great music that a kid my age might otherwise not be exposed to. The hosts were amazing as well: amongst them, Robert Sherman, June LaBelle, and the afternoon guy, a very funny man called Lloyd Moss stood out (he used to joke, during traffic reports, how there was always some overturned tractor trailer in the report that someone must be moving it around the city). There were also lots of special music programs like "First Hearing" (where original recordings of classical music would be played) or "Woody's Children" (which Sherman hosted and that played folk music) or live broadcasts from Symphony Space and the Metropolitan Operas on Saturday afternoons.  

As a commercial station, WQXR played ads but they were ads made especially for WQXR. They were very well-produced, and I remember ads for champagne like Veuve Cliquot or B. Smith's or Broadways shows like "Six Degrees of Seperation" or "On Borrowed Time" or high-class restaurants like the long-gone Le 1900. 

Then there was the news.

I remember that every morning before I went to school, my dad would be listening to the news on WQXR and there was a special segment called "The Washington Report", a phoned-in segment by R.W. Apple Jr., the Times' long-serving Washington correspondent. (I remember right after the 1992 election, Apple talking about how the Republicans now had "re-find" themselves after their defeat, much like the Democrats in the 1980s.) At 6 PM every night there was a 45-minute news show called "New York At 6" where there would be a 10 minute national report, a 10 minute "metropolitan report" (i.e. local report), and then various Times' critics would do reports on things like theater (Frank Rich), restaurants (Brian Miller), movies (Janet Maslin) and others. My mom would usually be making dinner during "New York At 6" so I'll always associate this program with the smells of cooking. I also remember that each program would start with the announcer stating very proudly, "THIS ... IS ... NEW YORK ... AT SIX!" followed by swelling and soaring music. At 9 PM each night a reporter would then read the headlines from the front page of the next day's Times, a few hours before the paper would hit the streets. Remember, this was before the Internet or social media so broadcasting the next's days headlines was actually a big deal. 

WQXR also had an AM station. During the week WQXR AM would split off and broadcast a cooking show, a story hour, and a odd comedy show form the BBC called "My Music." You can hear all about that here: 

 

The station was a real jewel.

But then, in 2009, as the financial crises and vagaries of the newspaper business bore down on the Times, the "paper of record" decided to sell WQXR. The powerhouse public radio station WNYC decided to buy it and then turned it into the non-commercial entity it is today, moving it up the dial to 105.9 FM. So the good news is that WQXR still exists and NYC has a thriving classical music station. But the old WQXR 96.3, the WQXR of my childhood that was so great, is long-gone. Here you can listen to its sign-off and remind yourself that, in NYC, everything always changes eventually.  

Introducing the All New WQXR!

A quiet revolution in NYC music radio took place this week: the almost eighty-year old station WQXR vanished from its place at 96.3 on the FM dial and reappeared at 105.9.

This up-dial change was due to the sale of WQXR from The New York Times Company to the public radio empire of WNYC earlier this year (I blogged about it at the time). Although WQXR retains its call letters, it is no longer a commercial station operating in the service of the Grey Lady. Instead, it is the 24/7 classical music subsidiary of public radio -- so that means no commercials! Just lots and lots and lots of music. And since the economic pressures have been alleviated from it, this move assures that classical music and the rich culture of music radio in NYC will continue indefinitely.

In recognition of this fact, I have updated WQXR's info and place on the right-hand side panel.

The only somewhat sad thing about this change is that the quality of the signal at that end of the dial is a bit weak. 96.3 was a piece of prime radio real estate and WQXR's residency at it was central to its identity. Now that's over. It remains but in a different form and at a different place -- so it's not the same station really. I remember that my dad use to listen this station all the time ... so this is just one more thing that makes Mr NYC feel old.

P.S. In case you were wondering, the following pictures are: an old-fashioned radio microphone, a conductor's baton, and a picture of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Somehow including them here felt appropriate.

WNYC Buys WQXR

Big news today in the world of New York radio: two of the oldest stations in town are merging.

Well, sort of: public radio station WNYC and the media company Univision have bought classical music radio station WQXR from The New York Times Company. They have actually bought two radio band signals: 96.3 FM and 105.9 FM. WQXR will be moved from 96.3 FM to 105.9 FM and, presumably, 96.3 FM will become a Spanish language station.

The good news is that classical music radio in NYC will be saved. In the last couple of decades this has been an endangered species. The bad news: the 105.9 FM band isn't as strong as the 96.3 FM band and it will probably not be as easy to find or get as many listeners.

Still, we should be glad that there'll be some classical music on New York radio as opposed to none. And by having it become a public radio station, this relieves it of commercial pressures.

So now an 84 year old station (WNYC) owns a 73 year old station (WQXR). Both stations are legends. And this tribute to a former WQXR broadcaster from 1983 gives you a flavor of what an important and amazing legacy this station has.

Radio Remembrances

Over the years, I've blogged about my love for the old days of NYC radio. Heck, I realize I've blogged enough about it that I could create a whole separate blog about it all on its own! (Don't worry, I won't).

So talking about old NYC radio, I should note that this past January of 2023, one of the longest running show in NYC radio history came to an end: "Woody's Children" hosted by Bob Sherman.

Bob Sherman is an NYC radio legend, having worked at classical music station WQXR for more than 50 years. He's hosted shows like "The Listening Room" and "Young Artists Showcase" and others. At the age of 90, he's still working. His longevity is amazing.

"Woody's Children" was something different -- an American folk music show who's name was inspired by Woody Guthrie. "Woody's Children" debuted in 1969 on WQXR and ran there until 1999 when Bob Sherman moved it to WFUV. Sherman played every kind of folk music during those decades and interviewed everyone, including Pete Seeger (his first guest ever). Due to his age and other commitments, Bob has ended the show but what an incredible run!

I remember I used to listen to "Woody's Children" every so often when I was a kid. It used to be on Saturday nights at 7 PM. It was the first place where I ever heard "Alice's Restaurant". I can't say that I'm a huge folk music fan but I clearly remember this moment as being transformative for me -- where music could be funny and thoughtful, where a song could be a story unto itself. So thanks Bob Sherman, congrats on an historic achievement with "Woody's Children."

For some reason, at the same time I saw that "Woody's Children" was ending, I was remembering the weeknight radio show from my youth that used to air on Z100: "Love Phones" with Dr Judy. 

Back in the 1980s and 1990s, before the Internet and social media, call-in radio shows like this were very popular. They were, in a way, the original social media. And call-in shows about sex and relationships, airing after 10 PM in "safe harbor", where the hosts and callers would have explicit conversations, were especially popular, really being a kind of audio porn. The most popular, and longest running, was called "Lovelines" but, for whatever reason, it didn't air in NYC in the 1990s (it did, briefly, circa 2001-2003 on the ill-fated WNEW talk format).

"Love Phones" was the NYC-centric version of this show. Horny young people would call in with their weird sex experiences and questions, and Dr Judy would give wacky advice like suggesting that men write letters to their penises. They would have guests in the studio sometimes, many of whom didn't seem understand what kind of show they were on. I clearly remember one time a British guest was on and he was asked if he liked women making a lot of noise during lovemaking. His answer was rather odd: "Naw, I like 'em ratha' quiet." Eww. Anyway, this was, for that time, outrageous stuff although, by today's standards, quite tame and lame. But it was a moment in time where the exhibitionism that we see so much of in today's society was beginning to take off.

So, in remembering this show, it's easy to see today that "Love Phones" is both an artifact of its time, the kind of show that no longer exists, but also prelude of what was to ... come.

Review: "Six Degrees of Separation" and Its Legacy

In 1981 a deeply disturbed black seventeen year-old named David Hampton ran away from Buffalo to NYC to start a career as a con man. He had nothing, knew no one, and was lost in the big city. But he was determined, in his own scary way, to "make it there."

He did -- sort of. 

A decade later his bizarre story resulted in a hit play, a movie, and the popularization of the "six degrees of separation" concept into American culture.

In 1983 David Hampton showed up at the home of a wealthy Upper East Side couple, claiming that he had just been mugged in Central Park. He said that he was friends with their children at an Ivy League college and that he was also the son of Sidney Poitier. David "Poitier" was extremely charming, funny, insightful, and he won over the couple instantly. They allowed him to stay the night at their apartment -- only to wake up the next morning to find him in bed with a gay hustler.  David vanished before the police arrived and soon the couple found out that David was a con man who had infilitrated their lives. The playright John Guare knew the couple and, after learning their story, wrote a great play about it -- Six Degrees of Separation -- that eventually became a so-so movie.

The fictional drama expands upon the real story. In the play, David's name is Paul and, after he escapes, the couple try to help the police to find him -- meanwhile he continues to seduce men and con them and others out of money (Paul/David had found this couple in the first place after he had, earlier, randomly seduced a troubled rich kid who really did know this couple's children). But Paul's interuption of this wealthy couple's life makes them realize how fragile, how fake, and how empty their existence truly is. They realize that Paul has, in a strange way, made them examine their lives, their marriage, their relationships with their children, and the whole world that surrounds them -- a world that people like David covet without truly understanding, a world that this couple comes to realize doesn't give them any real happiness. The couple comes to understand the pain that motivates Paul and the pain that they feel but can't acknowledge to themselves -- until Paul forces them to. They come to realize that everybody in the world feels pain, and that randomness, that chance meetings between people, plays a huge role in everyone's lives, and changes their fates. The climax of the play is a monologue that the wife gives. It concludes with:

"I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation. Between us and everybody else on this planet. The president of the United States. A gondolier in Venice. Fill in the names. I find that A) tremendously comforting that we're so close and B) like Chinese water torture that we're so close. Because you have to find the right six people to make the connection. It's not just big names. It's anyone. A native in a rain forest. A Tierra del Fuegan. An Eskimo. I am bound to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people. It's a profound thought. How Paul found us. How to find the man whose son he pretends to be. Or perhaps is his son, although I doubt it. How every person is a new door, opening up into other worlds. Six degrees of separation between me and everyone else on this planet. But to find the right six people."

Heavy.

The play takes the always uncomfortable issues of race, class, privilege, socioeconomic advantage and envy, and puts them front and center. It makes people look at themselves, think about themselves, in ways that are both uncomfortable and illuminating. And thirty years ago, this was an even bolder thing to do than now -- John Guare was ahead of his time. 

I remember as a kid when this play was being staged at Lincoln Center. I was going to school near there and remember seeing the enormous banner for it on the street every day. I also heard ads for it on WQXR -- "See ... Six Degrees of Separation" -- and on TV. It ran from the fall of 1990 to early 1992 -- and a straight play that runs for more than a year is a big hit. The movie came out in 1993 and wasn't a big hit -- but the legacy of Six Degrees of Separation is immense. 

The success of the play caused David Hampton to threaten John Guare with violence, try to get a cut of the play's profits, and eventually sue the playright (unsuccessfully) for $100 million. And Hampton continued his con man life well after the play and movie were produced, using his newfound celebrity as well as new identities to con people. Eventually he migrated, at least for a time, to Seattle but wound up back East, dying in New Jersey in 2003 from AIDS. His life was tragic, obviously, and ironic -- the most legitimate and successful thing he was ever a part of was something he didn't create, wasn't actually involved in, and didn't get to enjoy the money from. He was like the gangster Henry Hill -- a truly bad guy who's life inspired a truly great work of drama. 

The original 1990-1992 NYC run also inspired a lot of careers from actors I love and who found great success afterwards. The most famous person in the cast at the time was Stockard Channing who had already done Grease and would later be on The West Wing. She was one of the only people from the play to do the movie -- and got an Oscar nomination for it. Courtney B. Vance originated Paul, and others in the cast included Anthony Rapp (Rent), John Cameron Mitchell (a huge actor and playright), Evan Handler (Sex and the City, Californication), David Eigenberg (Sex and the City), and Robert Duncan McNeill (Star Trek: Voyager). Later on Kelly Bishop (pre-Gilmore Girls) replaced Stockard Channing, James McDaniel (pre-NYPD Blue) became Paul, and a very young and totally unknown actress named Laura Linney also joined the cast. Another replacement actress was Deidre Lovejoy would later be on The Wire. In the movie, a young actor nameed JJ Abrams had a small part -- and now he's one of the biggest directors in the world. 

But the legacy of Six Degrees of Separation goes beyond the life of this man and the real and fictional drama he inspired: the concept of "six degrees" became popularized, it became conversation fodder, it became an idea, a meme, part of the popular lexicon -- that we're all seperated in this world, in this life, by only six people. It gripped the public imagination. So much so that a popular game called "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" was created (finding actors who worked with him or worked with other actors who worked with him) that has saved many an awkward conversation. There was even a bad TV show called "Six Degrees" several years ago (that had nothing to do with the play).

Before social media and COVID-19, Six Degress of Separation reminded us that we're all connected to each other, directly and indirectly, one way or another.

I'm pretty sure David Hampton didn't realize, in 1983, that so many great careers would be spawned, and American culture altered, by his one-night con. 

The world truly is a random place. 

Postscript: I never saw the play when it ran in NYC but I saw it a couple of years later in Washington, DC with Marlo Thomas in the lead role. She was great but sadly I don't remember much else about the production.

You can read all of the various articles The New York Times wrote about Six Degrees of Separation here. 

The Ed Bridge

You read that right. Believe it or not, the city has decided to name something after a mayor not named LaGuardia -- in this case, a bridge bearing the name of Mayor Edward I Koch (1978-1989). 

And which bridge will be forced to shed its identity for this new moniker? The victim is none other than the Queensboro bridge itself -- that gorgeous, amazing 101-year old structure spanning the East River, nailing together Long Island City and the Upper East Side, immortalized in The Great Gatsby, the movies Manhattan and Terms of Endearment, and by Simon and Garfunkel (in "The 59th Street Bridge" song). 

As Ed Koch himself might have said, I think naming this wonderful bridge after this repulsive man is "OUTRAGEOUS!" 

I hardly ever use foul language on here but, if this name change goes through, it should be dubbed "Monument to an Asshole" or perhaps "Monument to New York's Most Corrupt Mayor Since Jimmy Walker."

You heard that right. The Ed Koch administration was so corrupt that several people in his administration went to jail and a Queens borough president committed suicide. It even spawned a book by the great journalists Wayne Barrett and Jack Newfield, City for Sale: Ed Koch and the Betrayal of New York. When I was a kid in the 1980s, my parents used to listen to a news program on WQXR called "New York At 6." Ed Koch's administration was so corrupt that almost every night there was some sleazy revelation of corruption that old Ed always claimed to no nothing about. Eventually my parents started calling "New York At 6", "Who's Indicted Tonight?"

During Ed Koch's reign, the homeless population in the city surged, the squeeze on the middle class began, developers started building huge buildings with apartments no one could afford, and the AIDS crises began -- a crises that Ed Koch, himself a closeted homosexual, totally ignored. 

Not a really good legacy. The best thing Koch did as mayor was balance the budget in his first term. After that, his remaining two terms, it was all downhill -- or, when it came to crime, it was up and up. By the time Ed left office in 1989 (thrown out by the voters), the crime rate had spiked way the hell back up ... and for some reason, then and now, it was and is blamed on his successor David Dinkins. It was Dinkins who then dramatically expanded the size of the police force and was responsible for historic plunge in NYC's crime rate. Sadly, when it comes to history and the city's collective memory, its Dinkins who gets all the blame for the rising crime rate, not Koch, and its Rudy Giuliani who gets all the credit reducing crime when it was already falling under Dinkins.

So why don't we name the bridge after Dinkins? 

Do you think the fact that Dinkins is black is the reason he gets no credit for reducing crime? "Oh no, of course not," most people will say. (Sort of like a current black president who gets no credit for fixing the economic mess left to him by his white predecessor).

It's amazing to see, when it comes to Ed Koch, how the historical slate has been wiped clean. You never hear about the historic corruption in his administration, about the rising crime rate, about how the middle class in this city began its long, sad decline. Instead, when you hear about Ed Koch today, it's all about what a great "personality" he is, how "lively" he is, and how he saved NYC from fiscal disaster. 

It's all a bunch of crap. It was Governor Hugh Carey who saved this city. And, to be fair, Hugh Carey is getting his due -- they're going to name the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel after him.

This just isn't right. A tunnel vs. a bridge. Which would you rather have named after you?

By the way, it's a total political payoff by Bloomberg to name the bridge after Koch, who supported the billionaire's three elections. Disgusting. Pathetic. And business as usual.

I hope to God the city council votes down this name change but you know they won't. After all, they all gave themselves an extra term -- there's no depth they won't sink to. 

So farewell beautiful bridge that connects two great boroughs. Your spirit will remain but sadly your identity will be gutted. Ed Koch deserves this city's contempt, not reverence.

When it comes to renaming the Queensboro bridge, Mr NYC is not feeling groovy.

Live from the Met!

It's amazing that these broadcasts have lasted for almost 80 years, and just another example of what makes New York such a great city.

Kurt Baum sang "Addio alla madre" followed by the finale from Mascagni's "Cavalleria Rusticana."

The broadcasts start in December and go through May. You can listen to them here in NYC starting December 12 at 12:30 PM on WQXR 105.9 FM (this first opera is called Il Trittico)

Rebel Radio Ratings

The entire world has been stood on its proverbial ear during this pandemic. Here in NYC we can see a lot of it in front of us: the people wearing masks, the empty streets, the signs for COVID-19 related messages and directions and warning signs everywhere, everyone staying and working at home (if they're lucky enough still to have jobs), and all sorts of other changes. 

One thing I'm quite sure none of us thought would be radically changed by the pandemic is something we can't see at all but can all hear: the radio. Specifically, the radio ratings.

In normal times, here in NYC, there's a basic pattern to the radio ratings: Lite-FM, the soft rock station, is far ahead all others at Number 1, and CBS-FM and WSKQ (Spanish language) compete for Number 2. Then the other talk, pop and rap music, Spanish-language, and all-news station round up the Top Ten.

Not now.

Now WSKQ is way ahead in the ratings and Lite-FM and CBS-FM are competing for second place. What's interesting is what's rounding out the Top Ten now: while all-news and Spanish language are holding steady, the pop and talk stations have absolutely crashed in the ratings. Even more shocking? Public radio and classical music are now in the Top Ten! Even more bizarre? The huge music station Z-100 is almost tied in the ratings with WQXR (classical music). 

A few months ago that would have been unthinkable -- and now it's for real, now it's normal ...

I suspect Spanish speaking people who are in quarantine are enjoying listening to Spanish radio, boosting the ratings significantly. Since people are not spending a lot of time in waiting rooms and stores and other public places, the ratings for the stations most usually played in the background of them (i.e. "lite" music and oldies) have clearly seen drops. Classical music can very soothing, especially in the house, so that might explain the ratings rise there. And people want intelligent news and information, hence the boost for public radio.

But why the big declines for pop and talk radio? Well, most people can stream pop music these days and, for talk, people don't want to hear other people blither about the horror we're all living through. And talk radio is an exhausted, old-school, boring format anyway -- especially the ugly Republican politics always being discussed. If anything should scare Republicans about their prospects in November, perhaps the crash in talk radio ratings is one of the most prescient -- people are literally voting with their ears. 

The new normal of 2020 in NYC continues to surprise. 

B. Smith RIP

When I was a kid, the radio station WQXR not only played classical music but was also the official station of The New York Times. Since my dad was a culture and news junkie, he listened to it all the time. I remember that occasionally there would be commercials for various high-end products and restaurants -- and one of them was for B. Smith's restaurant.

I remember that, in the ads, this very friendly, inviting voice would come on the air and tell people about her great restaurant and why you should go to it. If I had been old enough and had had enough money, I would have. 

B. Smith was a trailblazing business woman, starting out as a model and later became a very successful cookbook author, home products line inventor, and restaurant owner. She even had her own TV show. In the 1980s and 1990s she was one of the most biggest names in NYC. Long before celebrities started their own product lines or opening their own restaurants, B. Smith was creating the model for it -- and, yes, she was a black woman, which made her success all the more impressive.

Sadly Ms. Smith was diagnosed with early onset Altheizmers in 2013, and now she has died, aged 70. It's a great loss but she leaves an amazing legacy.