A Chronicle of Theater Memories, 1965-1973 by Elizabeth West Versalie
The live shows that brought joy, and forever shaped my philosophy of life and art have stirred in mind as I yearned to remember the old New York that I loved as a kid. I miss the quaintness and charm of those days when live performances in Manhattan were regarded as paramount compared to movies and television.
The happiest memories of my childhood were inside a theater in New York City. The theater was my home away from home, my sanctuary, and a place where I felt safe and happy. My parents and grandparents had the knack of knowing what to look for in plays and musicals. They conveyed that knowledge to me.
The acting, the dialogue, the music/lyrics, and the scenery transcended my mind and soul to a higher level of consciousness. I was boldly introduced in my early years to the words and music of Rodgers and Hammerstein. The poetry of Shakespeare, the perceptive dialogue of Sean O’Casey and Tennessee Williams were instilled. I acquired a skill to perceive the world from art in real life situations, which enhanced my desire to study theater, and to eventually write plays.
The anticipation of seeing a performance that comes to mind most vividly occurred the night before I was about to set eyes on Ethel Merman portray Annie Oakley in the 1967 revival of Annie Get Your Gun at the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center. At eight years old, I had no idea who Ethel Merman was, but I got the distinct feeling from my mother’s excitement in her voice and expression that she was someone of great prominence. My mother saw Ethel Merman in the original Broadway production. She was thrilled to share this experience with me. When Merman opened with “Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly” I fell enraptured. My mother hoped the seats were close enough to see her make-up. We were sitting in the second row, and indeed I noticed the stage make-up. I learned to take in other elements of a stage performance besides the acting. I could also never forget the folksy Irving Berlin score; it was blaring in the house the following day. Ethel became my spiritual theater icon.
Annie Get Your Gun, 1967
Annie Get Your Gun may have been the most memorable, but it was not the first musical I saw at Lincoln Center. Carousel produced by Richard Rodgers at the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center in 1965 was the 20th anniversary revival of the original Broadway production. John Raitt reprised his role as Billy Bigelow. The theater was packed. John Raitt was exhilarating. I still vividly remember his Soliloquy that stopped the show. Jerry Orbach also played a mean, memorable Jigger Craigin.
Eileen Christy, John Raitt and Jerry Orbach in Carousel, 1965
I believed the sparkling stars that represented heaven. I loved those stars and the scene with the star keeper, Edward Everett Horton. I remember when Billy Bigelow touched the stars and picked one to bring down to Julie. The moment touched my little heart.
The first flop I witnessed in 1966 was It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s Superman, with music by Charles Strouse and lyrics by Lee Adams. Directed by Harold Prince. The cast featured Jack Cassidy and Linda Lavin. I twiddled my thumbs watching it. The show didn’t capture my imagination. When a little puppet appeared in a Superman costume pulled by a string from above to try to suspend belief of Superman flying, it hit me that this show was phooey. My parents panned it in the car ride home. However, considering how far Hal Prince, the eminent theater director has come with the Stephen Sondheim and the Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals, I am proud I saw “Superman!”
I will never forget the unsettling day of seeing The King and I on June 6, 1968 at the City Center Light Opera. The actor portraying the King, Michael Kermoyan, came out in front of the curtain in costume to announce that Bobby Kennedy was assassinated. The audience gasped in dismay. He said that show would go on. Constance Towers portrayed Anna. The theater experience after hearing about the assassination left a partial feeling of enjoyment mixed with profound sadness.
The King and I, 1968
I had the good fortune of seeing Margaret Hamilton play Aunt Eller in the revival of Oklahoma at the New York State Theater in 1969. I remember Margaret Hamilton on stage churning the butter and I thought ‘that’s The Wicked Witch of the West.’ It was the first time I recognized an actress who played another role, and it felt cool. Bruce Yarnell, who played Curley, also portrayed Frank in the 1967 revival of Annie Get Your Gun.
NY Daily News caricature of Oklahoma, 1969
The first straight play I went to on Broadway was Conduct Unbecoming at the Ethel Barrymore Theater in 1970. I saw the playwith my grandparents on a Sunday matinee. I remember entering the Broadway house for the first time. My heart started to beat faster and I felt the excitement of embarking on a brand new experience. My grandfather pointed out a picture of Ethel Barrymore in the theater lobby and gave me a rundown of the renowned Barrymore family and their exemplary acting talent. He took me over to another picture that was much smaller than Ethel Barrymore. I looked at the photograph and thought that it was taken a long time ago.
Sam Shubert
My grandfather proceeded to tell me about Sam Shubert, who was killed in a train crash. He not only told me all about the accident, but also about the theater empire that the legendary Shubert Brothers built in New York. Then we entered the theater and sat within the first five rows. My grandfather’s cousin, Israel Pechter, an attorney for the treasurer’s union provided the best seats in the house. I watched the play about an innocent soldier being tried for rape in the Boer War. I recall the high caliber of the English actors. When the soldier took the stand, I felt his angst. Why my grandfather took me to this play at age eleven, I don’t know? But, I guess he read the review and just wanted to see it.
My parents were visiting friends in Manhattan, and on the spur of the moment we pulled up at the Lunt-Fontanne Theater to see if tickets were available for the evening performance of The Rothchilds starring Hal Linden also in 1970. My Dad got out of the car and went to the box office. He came back with orchestra seats. I watched the musically talented, Hal Linden portray Mayer Rothchild. Last year he performed in Boynton Beach, Florida and sang the “I Tossed a Coin.” I had remembered him on Broadway before he became the star of Barney Miller on television. Stars in the last millennium got their break on Broadway and then went to Hollywood. There is something lost and amiss in today’s theater with the standard being the other way around. The delight of seeing an actor on stage as he/she is about to get discovered is missing in today’s theater, and, unfortunately, not as prevalent as it used to be.
There are performances in the theater that deserve distinction. In 1971, I had the privilege of watching Claire Bloom portray Nora Helmer in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House at the Playhouse Theater on Broadway. It played during the height of the Women’s Liberation Movement. It was also historical for me to see an actress of that caliber play an essential role. The production with Claire Bloom was filmed afterwards for television with Anthony Hopkins as Torvald. The television version was good, but the Claire Bloom on stage completely captivated the audience. I loved the ending when she walked. It has been a life lesson for me to walk out of relationships that have gone sour. It is better to move on to an unknown situation, claim yourself, and start again.
A gratifying theater experience as a child was sitting in the house at the Vivian Beaumont Theater during the closing season of the first Repertory Theater of Lincoln Center helmed by Jules Irving. I will never forget the excitement of walking down the steps of the steeply raked orchestra seating, and seeing a thrust stage for the first time with a magnificent set in the background. The plays at the Beaumont always brought about eagerness that something extraordinary was about to happen.
My first Shakespeare play was the comedy Twelfth Night starring Blythe Danner as Viola and René Auberjonois as Malvolio in 1972 at the Beaumont. Directed by Ellis Rabb. Blythe Danner gave such a commanding performance. The cast was par excellence. I laughed all the way through it. The behavior of the characters was easy to perceive and follow. I was tickled silly by the story of mistaken identity, cross-dressing and the actors duping one another.
“I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood” - Cesario (Viola in disguise), Twelfth Night
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em.” – Malvolio, Twelfth Night
During the closing season 1972-73 of the Repertory Company, I saw Sean O’Casey’s awe-inspiring play, The Plough and the Stars. Directed by Daniel Sullivan. The drama took place in the tenements in Dublin 1915 while longing for the liberation of Ireland. The last two acts were set during the Easter Rising in 1916. Christopher Walken and Philip Bosco were part of the ensemble, and members of the repertory company. The acting was intense, fierce and electrifying. The cast also included Nancy Marchand, Roberta Maxwell and Kevin Conway. They all performed with explosive emotional energy. I was at the edge of my seat. I felt the intensity in my bones by the end of the play when the bullets, fighting and disease hit home. The production was one of the best plays I ever saw performed.
Christopher Walken, Merchant of Venice, 1973
The last two shows of the 1972-73 season starred the incomparable Rosemary Harris in The Merchant of Venice and A Streetcar Named Desire. Directed by Ellis Rabb. Philip Bosco played supporting roles in both productions. Christopher Walken portrayed Bassanio in Merchant. When Bassanio chose the lead casket to wed Portia, the actors' ebullience radiated the stage. James Farentino portrayed Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar. Rosemary Harris was the shining light in both productions. She commanded the stage with grace, posture, and gave an intelligent delivery. The first time I heard Rosemary Harris deliver the “Quality of Mercy” speech I was floored. As Blanche DuBois, she carried James Farentino’s Stanley in Streetcar. Phillip Bosco again was great as Mitch. The splendid scenic designs for A Streetcar Named Desire and The Plough and the Stars were by Douglas W. Schmidt.
The beauty of the Repertory Theater in those years was that the actors were always working honing their craft in a number of roles, and the audiences had the pleasure to watch and grow with them!
The theater of the mid-1960s mirrored the liberal times of marked social changes, such as the Civil Rights movement, Women’s Liberation, the Sexual Revolution and the Vietnam War protests. Mayor John Lindsay of New York, U.S. representative Bella Abzug and Gloria Steinem were prominent people in the news just to name a few. During the closing season of the Repertory Theater of Lincoln Center, the Watergate political scandal headlined the news.
After the theater, my grandfather’s favorite restaurant spots were Dinty Moore’s on 46th Street (closed in the early 70’s) and The Parkway Restaurant, on Chrystie Street, (now called Sammy’s Roumanian Steakhouse). Sammy was the headwaiter back in the 1960s-70s.
I loved Dinty Moore’s from the moment I walked through the glass doors. The restaurant was frequented by theater folk, who either worked in the theater or who just saw a show. I picked up on the energy. It was the liveliness of people talking about the shows they were either working on or just saw.
Many times after the show we would get in the car and drive downtown to Chrystie Street for Roumanian steaks at the Parkway Restaurant. It seemed a little crazy to trek down from Lincoln Center to the Lower East Side at a “hole in the wall” for dinner, when there were so many great restaurants in the theater district. Luchow’s, Frankie and Johnnie’s, and Gallagher’s were also favorite haunts.
When I saw Grease in 1972, starring Barry Bostwick as the original Danny and Adrienne Barbeau, as the original Rizzo, I thought it was the best Broadway musical ever until I saw A Chorus Line in 1975. The dynamic cast, the moving story of the trials and tribulations of teenagers was loaded with enthusiasm and appeal. I adored Grease. The show was far better than the film.
My parents took my sister and I to see Liza Minnelli in a cabaret setting at the Diplomat Hotel in Hollywood, Florida in 1972. She was trying out Liza with a Z to small receptive audiences before the television special was filmed May 31 at the Lyceum Theater in New York. The production was produced, directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse. I saw her up close right after the legendary film Cabaret premiered. The song, It was a Good Time, touched a deep emotional chord. It was apparent that she reflected on her parents. She came through with thunderous applause.
One Sunday in 1973, my mother opened New York Times on the kitchen table and pointed to an ad for Pippin. She told me that I should see that show with my best friend Bonnie and that I should call Mr. Pechter, my grandfather’s cousin for tickets. I didn’t know it at the time that this was to be my first phone call for house seats. My Dad picked up the tickets for me prior to the date of performance at the box office. I recalled seeing it on a Saturday matinee. Bonnie and I took the LIRR to Penn Station and hopped a cab to the Imperial Theater on West 45th Street. We sat smack in the middle of the third row center aisle. The performance was the second to last of the original cast that consisted of Ben Vereen, John Rubinstein, Jill Clayburgh and Irene Ryan. At the end of the show, the cast was teary-eyed. Directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse; Ben Vereen’s opener Magic to Do was surprisingly inventive. John Rubinstein and Irene Ryan stopped the show with each of their numbers Corner of the Sky and No Time At All. The Love Song duet with John Rubinstein and Jill Clayburgh was equally charming. I never saw innovative staging with unlimited bounds like that before Pippin.