June 2004 Archives

George S. Irving, the Tony Award-winning scene-stealer, has been reflecting on his 50 plus years in theater as he prepares for his one-man retrospective George S. Irving - Still Carrying On, which runs Friday-Sunday, June 18-20, at the Lucille Lortel Theatre [121 Christopher Street, between Bleecker and Hudson Streets]. "And one thing for sure," he says emphatically, "theater has changed!"

Irving says that when he came to New York, an energetic 19-year-old from Springfield, MA, "Broadway had legendary glamour. The biggest change is that the great composers are gone - Berlin, Rodgers and Hart and Hammerstein, the Gerhswins, Porter, Loesser. Every year one or the other had a new show. They were giants! Of course, we still have Sondheim, but the economics of today's theatre don't allow a new show every season."

Things have changed for actors as well. "If you showed directors anything at all in the way of professionalism," says Irving, "you could count on working season after season. It's harder today, even getting started. There's not an abundance of work. Nothing is easy anymore, even for the giants currently writing and acting. There were more theaters and shows had moderate, but profitable runs. It wasn't the hit or miss situation we have now."

Irving, 81, traces his career to a Sunday afternoon in Washington, D.C., when he was in the chorus of a touring company of The Student Prince and learned of the attack on Pearl Harbor. He's been in his share of milestone productions: Lady in the Dark (1941), starring Gertrude Lawrence; Oklahoma! (1943); Gentlemen Prefer Blondes(1951), headlined by Carol Channing; and, most recently on Broadway, Me and My Girl.

Lady in the Dark by Moss Hart with music and lyrics by Kurt Weill and Ira Gerswhin, "was the most wonderful thing ever invented," says Irving. "I still think that. Hart, who filled more than his share of analysts' couches, wrote an unusual story about a glamour magazine editor, whose fears and anxieties drive her into psychoanalysis. With its three dream sequences, it was like watching three condensed shows. It was a triumph.

"Irene Sharaff, who found much more fame in films, did the costumes," he continues. "Fashion designer Hattie Carnegie was brought in to do Gertrude's gowns. No expense was spared and it was all quite stunning. The choreography was by the brilliant Albertina Rasch. Moss was a wonderful director. "And what a cast," he still beams with excitement. "Gertrude was the rage. There was wonderful Danny Kaye as this foppish photographer, Victor Mature, Macdonald Carey and Natalie Schaefer, later of Gilligan's Island fame."

Being onstage with Lawrence was an education. "She was in her prime. Watching her was a revelation. She played with great subtlety and skill. Gertie was only a singer of sorts. Her voice was fine for what she had to do, but it didn't have a lot of range. She'd hit a note and it would sort of fade. She was first and foremost an actress. There was no fluff, nothing added. Every gesture meant something. She had this amazing ability to winnow out the crap. She wasn't a company gal, but was very private. Oh, did she have concentration. She was intense that you never wanted to cross her."

Lady had a new bit of technology: a turntable. While one scene played, a drop came down right in the middle. While Lawrence performed in front, the next scene was being set. "It wobbled like a ship in a storm," remembers Irving, "and that drove Gertrude crazy! Once, she was so thrown, she yelled, ëYou're destroying my concentration!' From then on, we had the quietest stagehands and actors! We walked on tiptoes!"

Irving said that although Lawrence was the epitome of a star: chic and well-turned out. "She displayed a hard-as-nails exterior, but was quite vulnerable inside. The only time I saw her really sad was when we did a show on Mother's Day. I stopped by her dressing room. She was all alone and quite upset that her daughter hadn't called."

When Away We Go, the original title of Oklahoma!, opened in New Haven, Irving was in the chorus. "We weren't a success," he recalls, "but no one panicked, nor was there a lot of rewriting. Dick and Oscar had a wait and see attitude. When the new title was suggested, they were reluctant to use it. In Boston, we got the new title and the title song. I still vividly see us sitting on the lobby staircase of the Colonial Theatre learning Robert Russell Bennett's arrangements. The book was strong and there was Agnes DeMille's breathtaking ballet."

No matter, audiences weren't won over. "The show was too radical," says Irving, "but Dick and Oscar knew they were on to something and didn't let anything faze them. They had chemistry. I never saw composers get along so beautifully. It was like they were an extension of each other. I was amazed at how fast they wrote."

Irving says Hammerstein was the most even-tempered man he ever met. "I arrived early for rehearsals at the Boston Shubert. Oscar was at the piano in the grand lounge, then got up and began pacing. He looked up, saw me and said, ëGeorge, excuse me, but I'm trying to get a line. Do you mind?' As I went to leave, everyone else arrived and Oscar realized this was where we were rehearsing. He was very apologetic. ëWill you forgive me,' he asked?"

Does anyone remember Alfred Drake? [Oklahoma!'s original Curley; later the star of Kiss Me, Kate, Kismet]wonders Irving. "He was one of our great stars. He had style and brains. We learned from him. In fact, during the run, he and Howard DaSilva [Judd] held acting classes. When the style of the Broadway musical changed, and more than a song-and-dance leading man was required, Alfred was ready."

Irving met his late wife of 52 years, the prima ballerina Maria Karnilova, when they were in Call Me Mister. "She sort of ignored me for a year," he recalls. "One day I bumped into her as we were exiting the stage door. I got my nerve up and asked her to have dinner with me. I was stunned when she said yes. A great friendship developed. Then love. It took me two years to propose! We had a good life! Maria introduced me to the world of dance and I'm a sucker for ballet."

[The late Miss Karnilova worked with Jerome Robbins, who choreographed numerous ballets for her. She transitioned from dance roles to a show-stopping turn as Tessie Tura in 1959 in Gypsy, which led to Fiddler On the Roof and a Tony Award for Best Featured Actress [though she had the female lead]; and a Tony nomination for Best Actress for her Madame Hortense in 1968's Zorba.]

He said he kept good company during Mister's three-year run on Broadway and tour. "Betty Garrett starred and in our cast was Carl Reiner, William Warfield and Bob Fosse. From the moment I laid eyes on Bob, I knew he was destined for great things. The way that man moved!"

Irving's experience, as well as his stature - he's 6'2" and weighs 200 pounds - helped him build a steady career - 32 shows on Broadway alone including: Two's Company ('51), starring the formidable Bette Davis; Rodgers and Hammerstein's Me and Juliet ('53), featuring Shirley MacLaine in the ensemble; Shinbone Alley ('57) starring Eartha Kitt; Irma La Duce ('60), with Elliott Gould in the ensemble; Bravo Giovanni('62), starring Cesare Siepi and featuring Miss Karnilova and a very young Michele Lee; Tovarich('63), starring Vivien Leigh; George Abbott's short-lived Anya('65), starring Lillian Gish and Constance Towers as Anastasia; with Robert Goulet and David Wayne in The Happy Time('68); Irene ('73), headlining Debbie Reynolds, for which Irving won the Tony for Best Featured Actor; I Remember Mama ('79), playing opposite Liv Ullmann in her short-lived musical debut; On Your Toes ('83 revival); and as Sir John Tremayne in Me and My Girl ('86) opposite Robert Lindsay and later Jim Dale, for which he was Tony-nominated as Best Featured Actor.

In a 50+-year career there must be some regrets. "Yes," he sadly smiles. "Many. My biggest is that I didnët order my life properly. I wasn't smart enough about choosing agents. That made a big difference in my career. I was always determined to learn and the best way to do that is to do everything. I played all kinds of roles in summer stock. As I look back, I can honestly say I've truly been blessed."

Things didn't always go smoothly. "I can think of two well-known men in musical theater, who are still with us, who were a pain in the ass!" Gentleman that he is, Irving wouldn't name names, but he had other recollections of actors he worked with:

GEORGE ABBOTT - "He wasn't a man of great originality, but he was an amazing craftsman when it came to knowing how to stage a scene. He knew when to make it funny. He was a terrific play doctor and a fiend for clarity! He demanded perfect diction from all the actors. He'd sit out front and yell, ëI don't hear ya!' That was because he didn't hear well! He had a wonderful trait as a director. If things didn't go right, he rarely blamed the actor. He'd say, ëI haven't got that quite right, have I? Let's try that again.'"

CAROL CHANNING - "An original! She was a youngster in 1950, but savvy and intelligent. I can still see her standing in the wings, her mouth wide open, applying her lipstick." Irving opens wide, grabs a grease pencil and makes wild, wide circles around his lips. "Carol was a kook, but adorable. You could tell, she lived to be out onstage and she was an extraordinary performer. And she exuded magic. She had a nice pedigree, being related to the Channings of Boston. Thankfully, she was a strong cookie. It had to be tough on her, being so young. Suddenly, she was the toast of Broadway. She managed, and never once let an audience down.

BETTE DAVIS - "Two's Company was a troubled production to begin with. To make matters worse, she and Jerry Robbins didn't get along. They were guarded with each other and clashed if they merely looked at each other. You had two taskmasters, each afraid of the other. He'd give her some movement and if she didn't get it right away, he'd say, ëYou're not a dancer. How can I stage a number when you can't do it?' She'd flare, ëWhat do you mean, I can't do it?' She was high strung and would storm off and scream the place down. Often, we didn't know if we were coming or going. Listening to the commotion wasn't conducive to morale, but it was fascinating. After her years in film, Bette didn't find it easy doing a sustained stage performance, especially one with singing and dancing. Maria [Irving's wife] was in the show. We had a long try-out on the road, so we brought along the kids, who played with her daughter. When I got to know Bette on a personal basis, I adored her. It was a poor man, indeed, who ever thought he could get something over on her."

JIM DALE - "When he came into Me and My Girl, he elected not to imitate Robert Lindsay. Jim was so stylish and smart that he created a new character that was perfect. He's a remarkably talented man and a marvelous actor I greatly admire. We know him mostly for his musical work, but he's a fine dramatic actor, as his recent work in the revival of Comedians proved."

KITTY CARLISLE HART [who later joined the cast of On Your Toes] - "Oh, my. A great beauty, still after all these years. And, in addition to being a great talent and absolutely charming, she has a great heart and great intelligence. What a dynamo! Working with her, Natalia Makarova and all those wonderful dancers was heaven. It was one of George [Abbott]'s last shows. He was 96, almost deaf, but he still had it."

EARTHA KITT - "An intense young woman and very self-assured. A quick learner. She performed with wonderful precision."

VIVIEN LEIGH - "A marvelous actress and beauty. A hard worker, and quite the prankster. In our Tovarich curtain call, we'd come out and then Vivien and Jean-Pierre Aumont would regally come out and we'd all bow. Once, I looked down and there was this note attached to my shoes: "Can you come to dinner tonight, darling? By the way, if you can read this, you're bowing too low." Unfortunately, the show came at a very difficult time for Vivien. She'd been plagued for years with illness. She had tuberculosis and was not physically strong. Certainly not strong enough to carry an entire show. Well into the run, she informed the producers she needed time off. They pleaded with her, saying business was just building. She stayed, and ultimately had a breakdown and had to leave."

DEBBIE REYNOLDS - "She was kind and easy to work with. What I admired most about Debbie was that she'd try anything. The boys throwing her around, whatever, nothing fazed her. She was a good dancer and had a strong body. She loved doing the physical comedy. I was amazed at her knowledge of the business. She confided one day that when she was under contract to M-G-M and wasn't working on a picture, she'd come to the studio and take dance classes, hang around the hair room to learn how to do hair and how to dress the wigs. That's how she learned the craft."

Is there an actor he regrets not having the opportunity to work with? "I've always felt that James Earl Jones is, if not the best, the first among equals. And Olivier. Jones in The Great White Hope and Olivier's The Entertainer were the highlights of my theatergoing life."

Irving was quick to sum up what's made him employable all these years, "I'm good at clarity onstage. I've always considered acting barely an art. It's a craft. It's like storytelling. You have the kids sitting there with their mouths open and you know the story and they don't. It's your job to tell it to them so they don't fidget."

If he taught acting classes, the first lesson he would be: How To Keep the Audience Awake. "Like every actor, I've seen people, even in the front row, asleep. But who can blame them? They get up at six, go to work, have a big lunch and, when they get off, have dinner, maybe with a couple of drinks. By the time they get seated, they're tired. I make sure the audience hears and understands every word I say. If they're not sure what's happening or what's being said, they'll drop off. And once you lose them, it's impossible to get them back."

When Jim Dale, now co-starring Off Broadway in Address Unknown, was asked what makes Irving the ultimate pro, he said, "There's nothing worse than being onstage with someone who hasn't had the experience to cope with things that inevitably happen in a big show [such as Me and My Girl]. We need to have our you-know-whats covered. You want to be surrounded by people who know what they're doing. George is one of those. He's knows very well, indeed, what he's doing and what you're doing! I was always in great admiration of him. Nothing could throw him. If I blew a line, he prompted me. He knew the entire show! Bundled inside George is the theater professional's professional. He knows all you need to know and you learn so much just being around him."

It's obvious that as much as the stage loves Irving, Irving loves the stage. "There's something about getting out there that's therapeutic. You come in feeling poorly and you walk onstage and suddenly you're transported, you're lifted off the ground. Aside from the artistic endeavor, it's like shock treatment. You transform yourself. It's all about process: you train, you learn, you do it. When it comes time for your cue, no matter how you're feeling, you grab yourself by the scruff of your neck and throw yourself on!"

[Performances of George S. Irivng - Still Carrying On, directed by two-time Tony and Drama Desk-winning choreographer Donald Saddler, are Friday, 8pm; Saturday 4 & 8; Sunday 3 & 7. Tickets: Friday, $35; Saturday, $40. $10 student rush tickets available 30 minutes before each performance. To order: TeleCharge: 212-239-6200; on the web: www.telecharge.com ]

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Looking back on three show business legends and the woman long, long associated with the American Theatre Wing and the Tonys:

MISS BROADWAY PIZZAZZ:
The Tony Awards have had many sensational moments. Three that come to mind featured the late Dorothy Loudon, who passed away in November at 70. Two of those were on the same telecast.

Miss Loudon had been a major cabaret star and plugged around Broadway for years. She was often side-lined by short-lived musicals, temper tantrums with directors and bouts with alcoholism. She came into her own in the 1973 Broadway revival of The Women. When she won the Tony for her 1977 comeback role as Miss Hannigan in Annie, she couldn't believe the audience response. By the time of Ballroom, she was adored. [Noises Off, following Angela Lansbury in Sweeney Todd and starring opposite Katherine Hepburn in West Side Waltz came later.]

Miss Loudon was a master comedienne, but capable of great pathos as she displayed on the 1979 telecast as a Best Actress nominee for Ballroom [nominated for Best Musical; oddly, Alan Bergman/Marilyn Bergman/Billy Goldenberg's score wasn't]. She sang her the poignant "Fifty Percent," which had the house in a hush.

The 1983 telecast at the Uris featured an all-star salute to Gershwin [for whom the theatre was renamed at broadcast's end] featuring Ginger Rogers, Jack Lemmon, Diahann Carroll and producer Alexander Cohen's "Tony Awards Repertory Troupe." Miss Loudon was a charter member. She made her entrance down a long flight of stairs to the music of an onstage pianist. She sported a sequined Royal Blue gown and black boa, accessorized by a sparkling tiara.

As she slinked to the piano, she threw the boa onstage and told it "Wait in the car!" Miss Loudon began, in that famous growl of a belt, an obscure Gershwin/Herbert Stohart song from 1925's Song of the Flame, "Vodka," frequently stopping the orchestra, conducted by Broadway veteran Elliott Lawrence, for such dialogue as: "Many important people hereÖCould mean a combackÖIn the Russian Tea RoomÖI'm not too good for this dress!ÖI'm too good for this song."

By the time she took her bows, plopped on the stage floor, the audience was rolling in the aisles. The applause was thunderous. Backstage, Miss Loudon, still a bit flushed, exclaimed, "I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was on Cloud Nine and could have floated offstage!"

Then there were the twin Loudon showstoppers from 1984's Tony tribute to Broadway's tunesmiths. In yet another tiara, Miss Loudon entered onto the Gershwin Theatre stage in a spectacular white gown dotted with rhinestones and a mink-trimmed plunging neckline - it was worthy of Catharine the Great! Standing atop a silver Rolls Royce, she was serenaded by Robert Preston, Tony Randall, Tony Roberts, Robert Guillaume, Larry Kert and a male chorus - all in red riding outfits - with "Mame."

Miss Loudon didn't sing, which made the bit fall a bit flat, but some of the dialogue was hilarious: "Don't look in your programÖIt's me!ÖJerry, think of me for the sequelÖI was thinking of keeping the gown, but I got one just like it at home so I'm gonna keep the carÖand the boys."

Moments later, she brought the house down again with a rendition of "Broadway Baby" from Follies.

[Chris Cohen, son of Alexander Cohen and Hildy Parks, of C&C Visual and producer of Broadway's Lost Treasures, was the stage manager and well remembers helping to push that Rolls onstage. The second installment of his BLT includes Miss Loudon's "Broadway Baby." It premieres August 8 on PBS, when it will also be available to the public.]

Miss Loudon, who had a delicious, devilish sense of humor and could be "bawdy" beyond belief, was one of the gals who was just one of the boys. She left us with unforgettable moments that are the pure definition of Broadway pizzazz.

THE TAP DANCE KID:
M-G-M musicals legend Ann Miller of the long-legs, raven-hair actress and machine-gun-style tap dancing won stardom in the golden age of movie musicals and in the hearts of millions, but was never nominated for an Academy Award. However, her showstopping turns in Sugar Babies earned her a 1980 Best Actress Tony Award nomination.

"It was a thrill when [associate producer] John Bowab brought me to Broadway in Mame," said Miss Miller, "but I came in long after my old friend Angela Lansbury. I always considered Sugar Babies my big moment. To be in a show nominated for Best Musical was, well, quite a big deal. And, then, to be nominated!"

SB press agent Terry Lilly says it was, indeed, a big deal. "Mickey [Rooney] and Ann were nominated [as was the show, directors, book, score, costumes and the choreographer]. Here was a musical with two beloved stars. Mickey and Ann! No one like them today! They stopped Tony telecast with their Sugar Babies medley. They were amazing; genius, really -- Mick with the comedy, and Annie with the taps. It was incredible how they breathed new life into that vaudeville and burlesque material."

Miss Miller, who left us in January at age 81, had the wardrobe, make-up and hair crew from Sugar Babies to help get her into her Tony mode. That year, the awards were being telecast from the Hellinger, which was where the show ran. "There were so many stars and Indian chiefs running around," recalls Lilly, "that we were almost dispossessed from our own theatre."

The fact that Miss Miller's long-time friend, Dolores Gray [whom she'd known since they did 1956's The Opposite Sex, the musical re-make of The Women], a Tony winner and Broadway belt legend, was in the audience delighted the star. "However," Miss Miller related, "in the year of Barnum and Evita, I didn't have high hopes for our show. Or myself, being in the running with Patti Lupone. As they say in Hollywood, it was a thrill just to be nominated! And really it was - especially for something I loved doing all my life - tap dancing. What made it more wonderful was being recognized by the Broadway powers-that-be."

THE UNDERSTUDY GETS THE NOMINATION:
Larry Kert of West Side Story fame [who, amazingly, has never been induced into the Theatre Hall of Fame], wasn't nominated for a Tony for his performance as Tony in WSS. However, he holds the distinction of being the only cast replacement to be Tony-nominated. Kert was nominated for Best Actor in a Musical for his performance in Company (1971) over original star Dean Jones, who a little over two weeks following the opening and after recording the cast album, announced he was leaving due to illness.

It was contended that not enough members of the Tony Awards Nominating Committee were able to catch Jones, whose reviews as Bobby could have established him as a Broadway star to be reckoned with. Press reports explained that he had hepatitis; however, through the years, all sorts of rumors have floated and recollections of events by those close to the show have changed. Jones had graduated from dramatic features to playing goofy leads in several Disney features [That Darn Cat, The Love Bug, The Shaggy D.A.] to star in the groundbreaking Sondheim musical - replacing Anthony Perkins, who'd been announced to star.

One theory floated as to why Jones left what could have been the defining role of his career is that he was going through a traumatic divorce from his wife of 17 years and found a show about hard-edged, unromantic relationships too painful.

When Kert opened in Company on the West End, Columbia Records took him into the studio and had him record all of Bobby's tracks for the London Original Cast album, however, listen closely, and you can hear Jones on the duet harmony takes. On Columbia's re-mastered CD, Kert is featured on a bonus track, singing "Being Alive."

Kert died June 5, 1991, three days after the Tony Awards.

MOTHER TERESA OF THE THEATER:
For 33 years, Isabelle Stevenson was president of the American Theatre Wing, the organization co-founded by Antoinette Perry. The Wing was the presenter and later, with the League of American Theatres and Producers, the co-presenter of the Tonys - named in honor of Miss Perry.

In 1998, I sat next to her beloved husband John Stevenson at the press conference when she announced she would be stepping down as Wing president to become Chairman of the Board [the first time since Miss Perry's death in 1946 that position was filled]. Jaws dropped among those present, as no one ever thought she'd give up her iron-fist running of the Wing. I turned to John and said, "Now you'll have more time to travel." He looked at me in amazement and replied, "She'll never let go until they put her in the grave." That was the truth. She was still running things in December when she died at age 90.

Isabelle to many, many people was the face of Broadway; and, oh, how she loved everything connected to New York theater. She was always the first to offer encouragement and was an unstoppable booster of the Wing, its programs and anything show business.

Aunt Izzy, as I grew brave enough to call her once we became friends, loved being in the media and cherised her on-camera appearances during the Tony telecasts when she spoke on what the Wing was all about. The public persona of Isabelle was always grace under fire. That was generally true except when it came to finding something to wear for the Tonys.

Her look during those few moments onstage led to quite a bit of pandemonium in the preceding weeks as Isabelle would cajole various designers into letting her borrow or buy quite inexpensively one of their outfits. Then when a selection was made, she drove those poor fitters crazy!

Mrs. Stevenson was passionate about theater and in 1999 was honored with a Tony for Lifetime Achievement in recognition of her Wing leadership. She can be credited for broadened the Wing's focus from being an insider club for women of theater to a service organization. Among her numerous innovations were the Theatre In-Schools Program, the Hospital Program and the Introduction to Broadway Program, which secured Broadway tickets at steep discounts so students could attend theater.

Under her leadership, the Wing, greatly abetted by her late husband, presented grants to Off and Off Off Broadway theatres. She also created the lively Working in the Theatre Seminars, which were televised, with panels of not only actors from the top shows but also their creative, producing and marketing teams.

Interestingly, on several occasions, she told me she felt the Tonys should in some way include recognition of Off Broadway, but it was never possible to find a method that pleased Broadway and Off Broadway.

Mrs. Stevenson had many Tony memories, but three stood out. One was Anne Bancroft's win in 1958 for Best Actress in a Play for Two for the Seesaw. "Anne excitedly ran the gauntlet of tables and chairs to the stage," recalled Mrs. Stevenson. "She arrived breathlessly to take her Tony from the hands of Laurence Olivier. She stood there looking into his gorgeous eyes and, finally, sighed, ëI wish you came with it!' It brought down the house."

Another memorable moment was in 1976, when A Chorus Line, with 12 nominations in 10 categories and nine wins including Best Director, swept the Tonys. "Early on, when Michael Bennett and Bob Avian's names were announced as winners for choreography," remembered Mrs. Stevenson, "Michael bounded out of his seat and kissed his partner. That was a first, and for the rest of the evening the floodgates opened. Everyone was kissing everyone!"

Her most cherised moment came with the late Michael Jeter's 1990 acceptance for Featured Actor in a Musical for Grand Hotel. "It was an emotional moment," she said, "as this tiny man leaped to the stage and stood there so humble. He said, ëI was an alcoholic. I was a drug abuser. I was the lowest thing you can imagine. But I came back to win this and if I can do it anybody can.' He was clutching his Tony as if he'd never let it go. You could hear a pin drop.'"

Mrs. Stevenson had unbelievable stamina. Immediately following the 2000 Tonys, she was felled by a massive heart attack. It didn't stop her. She was back in the office quick as a wink, and at the gym several days a week.

It was no secret she had a fierce temper. I'll never forget being on the phone with her one morning at the office when suddenly she told me to hold on; but she didn't put me on hold. I don't know what had gone wrong, but her response was akin to bombs bursting over Fort Sumter in Charleston harbor.

I often wondered if Mrs. Stevenson, a nice Phily Jewish gal and a former showgirl in the Josephine Baker mode who, during her tenure with the Earl Carroll Vanities and as a dancer in Paris, was known as "the Blonde Bombshell, was taken a bit too seriously. She didn't expose her personal side easily, but "off stage" she possessed a quick intellect and quick wit.

In a 1995 interview, when she spoke of how delighted she was seeing the reactions of students experiencing their first Broadway show, she jokingly said, "Sometimes I feel like Mother Teresa of the Theater!" We had a good laugh and I never let her forget she said that.

For a feature in the 50th Anniversary [1996] Tony Awards Playbill, I got up the nerve to ask: Could it be that you're very imperial? She broke up laughing, then replied, "I've thought I must be, but I should say not. I want to be Isabelle, but I guess I have that, that reputation."

On her death, Broadway dimmed its lights. She would have loved that.

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and ANTOINNETTE PERRY SALUTE
in honor of the
58th Annual TONY AWARDS
June 6, 2004
Photos from the Collection of Ellis Nassour

~ Everything Old Is New Again ~

1965, Featured Actress Maria Karnilova with Best Actor Zero Mostel, Fiddler On the Roof 1961, Featured Actress nominee Chita Rivera with Best Featured Actor Dick Van Dyke, Bye, Bye, Birdie 1953, Best Actress Rosalind Russell with Wonderful Town co-star Sydney Chaplin 1996: Angela Lansbury promoting the 50th Anniversary Tony Awards Miss Lansbury has hosted or co-hosted the Awards five times. [Credit: Al Hirschfeld, Where Magazine] 1972: April 23, Theatrical legends are honored Richard Rodgers and Ethel Merman received special Tony Awards after showstopping performances at the Broadway Theatre. [ABC-TV] 1969: April 20, The Tonys go hippie Cohen, sporting a flat top and beads, joins Hair cast members [clockwise, from upper right] Erroll Booker, Melba Moore, Paul Jabara [a future Academy Award winner], and Martha Velez. [Credit: NBC-TV] 1967: March 26, 21st Annual Tony Awards The first Tony Awards national network telecast. Alexander H. Cohen, telecast [and Broadway] producer][left], [his wife] Awards writer Hildy Parks, director Clark Jones and engineer Tom Farmer in ABC's mobile studio outside Shubert Theatre in Shubert Alley. [Credit: ABC-TV, Christopher Lukas] 1967: Barbra Steisand, John Kander [left] and Fred Ebb The trio pose in the Sardi's press room. Streisand presented Tonys to the composers for Cabaret. [Credit: The New York Times] 1952: March 30, Judy, Judy, Judy, Phil and Gertie Judy Garland, after receiving a special Tony Award, with Gertrude Lawrence and Phil Silvers in the Waldorf-Astoria Grand Ballroom. [Credit: University of Texas at Austin Archives] The Tony Awards honor Antoinnette Perry: Actress, producer and director [Courtesy of Margaret Perry]

Toni was the nickname of beautiful Denver actress Antoinette Perry, who, after several years playing ingÈnues on Broadway, turned to producing and directing in an era when women in the theater were relegated to acting, costume design, or choreography. The success of the same named home permanent product that was the subject of a huge media blitz caused her to change the i to a y.

When she decided to move from acting and become a producer and director, she became a theatrical trailblazer for women. Amazingly, well into the 70s, Miss Perry was the only woman director with a track record of hits. Today, she's, sadly, all but forgotten.

In her prime, she showed innovative theatrical instincts and scored an enviable roster of hits -- producing and often directing 17 plays in 13 years. In one month in 1937, according to her daughter Margaret, Miss Perry directed and produced three productions, "once rehearsing in our Fifth Avenue living room while peeling peaches for preserves."

Among her impressive hits were Personal Appearance [1934] and Claire Boothe's Kiss the Boys Goodbye [1938], a spoof of the search for Scarlett O'Hara for the film adaptation of Gone with the Wind. The latter had a stellar cast, including Benay Venuta, a perennial star of stage and screen [who died in 1995].

"Tony was rather a theatrical pioneer," said Miss Venuta, "in that she made a huge impact as a producer and director in an era of male theatrical powerbrokers. She was successful and success either earns you envy or respect. In Tony's case, it was both, but I never heard her criticized on the basis of being a woman."

TONY AWARDS TRIVIA

TONY WINNING LADIES Who are they and what year did they win?

THE AWARD:
Early awards to honor Antoinette Perry by making her the namesake of best in theater awards were engraved ladies' compact and cigarette cases. In 1949 a contest was held to select a special design. Herman Rosse won with a silver medallion that, on one side, features the masks of comedy and tragedy and, on the other, a profile of Miss Perry. Initially, they were presented in felt cases. Later, they were mounted on a swivel stand.

DO YOU KNOW:

1. Who is the only Tony to have hosted the Tonys since the first national telecast in 1967?
A. Tony Danza
B. Tony Soprano
C. Tony Randall
D. Tony Bennett

2. What is the shortest title of a Tony-winning play?
A. Duh
B. Wee!
C. Da
D. Yah

3. In 2003, Vanessa Redgrave in Long Day's Journey Into Night became one of a handful of actresses to have won a Tony, an Emmy and an Oscar. Who else can boast membership in this Award Trifecta Club?
A. Joanne Woodward
B. Rita Moreno
C. Suzanne Somers
D. Patty Duke

MORE BROADWAYSTAR.COM 2004 TONY AWARDS FEATURES:

Sunday, June 6 --
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN: TONY MEMORIES AND TRIBUTES
Looking back on three show business legends and the woman long, long associated with the American Theatre Wing and the Tonys: Dorothy Loudon,Ann Miller,Larry Kert and Isabelle Stevenson.

Friday, June 4 --
DONNA MURPHY: TWO-TIME TONY WINNER AND BEST ACTRESS NOMINEE FOR THE NEW YORK MUSICAL, WONDERFUL TOWN
Just named one of New York theater's "Living Legends," Donna Murphy's dream always was to make it in theater. Her journey has been filled with happiness, frustration, self-doubt and personal tragedy.

Thursday, June 3 --
AND THIS YEAR'S ANTOINNETTE PERRY AWARD GOES TOÖ
Meet Some of the 2004 Nominees: Karen Ziemba, Hunter Foster, Tovah Feldshuh and a director who wasn't nominated.

Also, visit TONYAWARDS.COM

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Answers:
Tony Winning Ladies:
Clockwise from Upper Right: Lauren Bacall,1970, Best Actress, Musical, Applause; Julie Harris, 1952, Best Actress, Play, I Am A Camera, 1956, Best Actress, Play, The Lark, 1969, Best Actress, Play, Forty Carats, 1973, Best Actress, Play, The Last of Mrs. Lincoln and 1977, Best Actress, Play, The Belle of Amherst; Donna McKechnie, 1976, Best Actress, Musical, A Chorus Line; and Diahann Carroll, 1962, Best Actress [tie with Anna Maria Alberghetti], Musical, No Strings.

1. C; 2. C; 3. B
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"New York, New York, it's a wonderful town!" are not exactly the words wide-eyed sisters Ruth and Eileen were thinking after misadventures, fresh off the bus, from Ohio in the classic New York musical, Wonderful Town. They arrived with dreams of making it, respectively, as a writer and actress and living happily ever after.

Donna Murphy, named one of New York theater's "Living Legends" by New York magazine, lights up the stage in this high-energy show nominated for Best Revival. She won the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Actress in Musical and is nominated for a 2004 Best Actress Tony [along with Kristin Chenoweth, Wicked; Stephanie D'Abruzzo, Avenue Q; Idina Menzel, Wicked and Tonya Pinkins, Caroline, or Change].

Murphy's journey has been filled with happiness, frustration, self doubt and personal tragedy -- which may be one reason she's enjoying Wonderful Town so much.

"Ruth's incredible," says Murphy. "Ever the cockeyed optimist. Her story is timeless. You still have people getting off buses, trains and planes as she and Eileen did -- coming here to pursue their dreams. Especially those of us who want to be in show business. Like them, we have times that are wacky and scary."

WT, with a score by Leonard Bernstein and the legendary Broadway team of Comden and Green, is based on the best-selling memoir by Ruth McKenney and the 1940 play and film adapted by Joseph Fields and Jerome Chodorov, My Sister Eileen. The musical adaptation premiered on Broadway in 1953 [starring Rosalind Russell and Edie Adams] and swept the Tony Awards.

Murphy may look tiny and fragile but, as Ruth Sherwood, she's intrepid. Have you seen her climb that Navy Yard fence? Seen the way she's thrown about and spun around by members of the Brazilian Navy? She calls the show "the perfect New York musical. It's exciting, smart, clever and truly a celebration of and a valentine to the city. It's a great show at the right time." Though set in the 30s, Murphy says, "This isn't your Mother's Wonderful Town. The period may be the 30s, but there's nothing old-fashioned about it. The music's hot and it's high energy all the way."

Regarding the "physical stuff," she laughs, "I'm either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, because I love it. I love the feeling of not knowing what's going to happen next. It keeps me literally and figuratively on my toes."

Many theater insiders, having seen Murphy in Passion and The King and I, and perhaps missing her in Song of Singapore, were surprised to see her being cast in a role that didn't require a dark side. However, she's proved as deft with pratfalls and comedy as she has been with heavier musical theater. And, with all that knock-about, the already much too svelte star lost eight pounds during rehearsals.

"My husband [actor] Shawn [Elliott] told me I had to start eating hamburgers," laughs Murphy. "And there's some good news. I've gained four pounds!"

Pre-opening, Murphy's bout with the flu and a burst vocal chord caused her to miss ten preview performances over two weeks; and led to rumors the WT producers were considering replacing her. Reportedly, the stress led to a near nervous breakdown.

"My only wish," she says, "was to get well, get back and give one hundred percent to our audiences. I'm a human being and like other human beings, sometimes I get sick. Maybe I hugged someone or shook a hand that had been exposed to a virus. Now I keep disinfectant wipes in my purse!"

Then there was the matter of opening night when, Murphy entertaining a dressing room full of family and friends, was very, very late for a very important date: the ultra gala afterparty in the spanking new Time Warner Center. By the time she exited her stretch limo, the photographers had all but dispersed and the clinking of Champagne glasses had ceased. Even some of the show's producers had left. Reports painted the star as Broadway's newest diva.

Who could ask for anything more? Well, Murphy could. Add to the fodder the May scuttlebutt over taking a long weekend to hopscotch West to shoot a TV pilot; and more missed performances due to illness.

Then there was the night of May 19 and Murphy, still not tip-top and pumped with antibiotics, arriving breathless from her matinee to the Drama Desk Awards - just in time to hear her name announced as Outstanding Actress in a Musical.

According to some detractors, Murphy's acceptance speech went on "endlessly" - some said nine minutes - "not including the hugs and the oh so slow walk to the podium." Actually, it lasted less than six minutes. Host Harvey Fierstein made the first heavy-handed joke. It hasn't stopped since.

Murphy may be a waif, but she's thick-skinned. Good for her, now that she's entered the cause cÈlÈbre ranks of those [Bernadette Peters, Tony Kushner, Evan Pappas] targeted by the vitriolic barbs of New York Post theater columnist Michael Reidel.

Ah, show biz! Ain't Broadway grand? Thunderous applause and slings and arrows -- but, says Murphy, "there was never a time when I didn't want to be somehow connected to theater."

At age three she was pleading with her Mom for voice lessons. [They were not forthcoming until she was 33!] By age five, her love of theater was driving everyone nuts: "I wrote shows and put them on for neighbors and family. And put my six younger brothers and sisters to work in them."

Through grammar school on Long Island and from junior high on through graduation in Massachusetts, Murphy was bitten by the bug. At 18, she entered NYU to major in theater and studied with Stella Adler. She made ends meet as a singing waitress and, one Yuletide, as an elf in Macy's Toyland. It didn't impress Murphy's instructors that she was more interested in open calls than attending classes. However, it was an assignment for a course on survival in theater that led her to audition for They're Playing Our Song. Not only did she write a paper, she got hired as a swing.

"I managed to balance being in the show with going to school," states Murphy. "But it didn't take long before I became distracted. At the end of my sophomore year, I took a leave of absence. I needed to audition without cutting classes. I thought once I got my Broadway break, the rest would be smooth sailing. It was a rude awakening. I was just starting to learn a little of what my teachers had been warning about. I was working, but developing performance tricks as opposed to a craft."

Murphy decided to challenge herself. "I needed to really learn the ropes, so my goal was to get a job in a new show, even if it was in the chorus." Goodspeed accommodated, hiring her for the musical Zapata. "I didn't care that it was a small part. Unfortunately, it got cut." There was an up side: On that job she met her husband of 20 years.

Back in New York, she began juggling auditions with job-hunting to pay the rent. "Shawn was working and very supportive. He told me, ëDon't take the Fourth National of Annie. Stay in town, take classes, audition.' That began five years of Broadway understudy roles and jobs in the regionals. I did everything from singing jingles to fronting a rock band - whatever it took for casting directors to get to know me."

In 1984, she was featured in the short-lived revival of The Human Comedy. Her big break came a year later with the New York Shakespeare Festival's The Mystery of Edwin Drood. She was offered chorus/understudy roles, but Murphy said, "No, I can't do that anymore."

It turned out that composer/lyricist/librettist Rupert Holmes liked her. "He told me he was writing a specialty number for me and Judy Kuhn. When they added being understudy for Cleo Laine, I agreed to do it in Central Park. I loved the show and wanted to work for [director] Wilford Leach, who I had auditioned for several times." Joe Papp decided to transfer the show to Broadway but,with Laine never missing a performance and Murphy not getting to go on in a part, she decided not to go with it.

It turned out that Laine was committed to 20 concert dates and Murphy was assured she'd get to go on. What was fabulous about Drood, she says, is that "I got to witness the creation of a show from the beginning. That was invaluable. And it turned out to be a Tony-winning show!"

Murphy left to do Rags, only to find out Betty Buckley was leaving Drood. "Though Wilford never saw me play the lead," she says, "he thought I could do it. I ran to audition, and got the part -- my first Broadway principle role." [Kuhn then left Drood to do Rags.]

Papp refused to give Murphy Buckley's Playbill and marquee credit above the title. "He didn't think I had paid enough dues! I had to settle for my name being in a box below everyone."

Then came a TV soap, some Off Broadway work and, in 1991, Singapore. At the end of the run, Murphy was overcome with self-doubt. "I began to wonder if I'd ever get that great dream role. I was on the brink of leaving the business. The ups and downs, the physical demands made me question if that was what I was meant to do the rest of my life."

She was also wracked with guilt. "I'd been blessed with wonderful opportunities, but it was like a double-edged sword. I'd been fortunate, but wasn't enjoying the work. I'd lost sight of what I had to give to the work."

It was time to step back and discover what else there might be out there. Murphy discovered there was nothing she wanted more than being an actress. "I came back with a renewed sense of purpose," she said.

There was satisfying work in the regionals, followed by the workshop of not exactly your typical Broadway musical, Passion. "I felt since the role of Fosca was so challenging it would be recast." She won a starring role in Hello, Again at Lincoln Center Theater, but during rehearsals was offered Fosca.

"I was faced with one of the most difficult decisions in my life, if not the most difficult," she explains. In one of those all-too-rare show biz moments, LCT allowed her to open in Hello, Again and leave a week after the opening to begin rehearsals for Sondheim's musical.

Passion, she reports, and working "for the theatrical gods at whose shrine I had worshipped - Stephen Sondheim and [director] James Lapine - was a life changing experience. It gave me the opportunity to utilize what I could bring to the table as an actress and a human being. Once in a blue moon, things really do happen in their time."

The show brought Murphy her first Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical, but, more than that, she says, "It was a sublime education."

In more ways than one. "Success and the Tony were sweet but," she reveals, "suddenly, where I was just going about doing my job, there was all this clamor and hoopla. It was crazy and it became a huge challenge to remain focused."

Maybe she became a little too focused. "People were telling me I wasn't ugly enough for Fosca," she said, "and I was sort of offended! I felt it was about Fosca's big heart and how she was affected by illness, not her lack of beauty. I began having doubts that I hadn't done a good enough job of transforming myself into her."

Fosca was pretty demanding and draining, so Murphy didn't have a lot of friends or celebrities coming back afterward. They would arrange to meet later. As a joke, backstagers began announcing over the P.A. system that various celebrities were on the way up. After being fooled a few times, Murphy started yelling back, "Kiss my ass!"

"Then, one night," she recollects, laughing, "I heard ëDonna Murphy, Warren Beatty and Annette Bening are on the way up!' I went to the door, opened it and yelled, ëKiss my ass!' And on the stairs were a pretty perplexed Warren Beatty and Annette Being."

Murphy followed Passion with her revisionist Anna in King. That was 1995, the season of Julie Andrews' return to Broadway after 35 years in Victor/Victoria[by husband Blake Edwards and based on his film]. But no gave any thought to the Tony Nominating Committee, which didn't give much thought to V/V.

The show received one nod: Andrews for Best Actress, thereby peeving the comeback star who stated from the Marquis Theatre stage: "I have searched my conscience and my heart and find that I cannot accept this nomination, and prefer instead to stand with my egregiously overlooked castmatesÖ" [It was a bold move on Andrews' part for, in truth, the show certainly deserved more nominations, especially in the Featured Actresss and Design categories.]

Everyone, including Murphy, thought Andrews would still be the hands-down winner. On the telecast, the incident provided a hilarious opening bit by co-host Nathan Lane impersonating Andrews. When the enveloped was opened, a stunned Murphy heard her name and, in a state of shock, made it to the podium. And her acceptance speech was much shorter than six minutes!

Fast forward to the delays getting WT to Broadway after its Encores! triumph. "There was the matter of financing, theatre availability and scheduling," reports Murphy. "It didn't seem the stars were ever in alignment."

During the wait, Murphy went West to do a TV sit-com. It was short-lived. Then, trying desperately to have children, she suffered two miscarriages. "I began to wonder if it would ever happen?" she says. But Murphy was always producers Fran and Barry Weissler and Roger Berlind's dream Ruth Sherwood and, though it took three years, it happened. Finally.

Donna Murphy's website is Under Construction, but for photos and much more, visit: WonderfulTown.COM

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Never Gonna Danceës Karen Ziemba:
Tony nomination, Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical

She's a Broadway baby and a well-like Broadway darling, but hardly anyone expected Karen Ziemba to get a Tony nomination for what amounted to a guest or cameo appearance in the short-lived Never Gonna Dance. But every season, the Tony nominators give us a couple of unexpecteds. Even if she was only showcased in three numbers, it couldn't happen to a nicer person.

Her Mabel was sort of the lovable sidekick "older sister" to Penny, played by Nancy Lemenager. Ziemba drew on Helen Broderick, Mabel in the original film [and mother of actor Broderick Crawford] for inspiration. Broderick starred with Astaire in the stage production of The Band Wagon and had a lucrative film career from 1924-1946 playing "dames" [Top Hat, Rage of Paris, Naughty But Nice, No, No, Nanette]. "Other role models," she says, "were Rosalind Russell and Eve Arden, two actresses who were quick with the quips and snappy dialogue. Growing up, sitting through countless hours of movies, they were two actresses I really admired."

We all knew Ziemba could dance, as she ably proved in the Tony-winning Contact, for which she took home the Best Featured Actress Tony and Drama Desk, but how about that shimmy? Her "Shimmy with Me," where she teaches a dance class to shake their booties - or chassis's - to the black-influenced "jive" rhythms of the ë20s dance Mae West took from minstrel shows into the mainstream, was a show-stopper.

"It was the Jazz Age," explains Ziemba, "a time when people were more open with their movements and looser. The Shimmy was executed to the fullest when women shed their corsets and girdles. I really got to be a red-hot mama! It was a blast."

The number is from the Kern/P.G. Wodehouse revue The Cabaret Girl, and it's still hard to imagine that the composer of Show Boat and the man who created the Jeeves books, could get so down and dirty, but, Ziemba notes, "it came at a time when composers like Irving Berlin were writing rags."

Ziemba says that NGD's choreography by Jerry Mitchell [nominated for a 2004 Tony nomination], "left audiences breathless. It was thrilling, the kind of ballroom and tap I did in 42nd Street and Crazy for You. Steel Pier, which was about marathon dancing [and for which Ziemba was Tony-nominated] and Contact had classically-based ballroom partner dances. Coming from a ballet background, I learned partnering very early. I love contact dancing. The secret is to make that contact seem easy, smooth and ultra romantic."

The NGD choreography is the type we had never seen from Mitchell. "He hadn't had the opportunity to execute this type of dance," says Ziemba, "because of the types of shows he's choreographed, Hairspray, The Full Monty [not to mention Broadway Bares, which didn't call for this type of male/female partnering. His choreography was brilliant in how it propeled the story forward."

There were a lot of musical influences in her family. Her grandmother was Winifred Heidt, who sang with City Opera in the 50s. "Mom wanted to be a dancer," relates Ziemba, "but got married and raised a family."

Fascinated with dance, "I started taking lessons when I was six." And she was soon putting on shows. "I had no sisters," she laughs, "so I pulled my three brothers into my little scenarios. They played all the characters, including the women. I made them don tights, masks and wigs. And play instruments. They loved me!"

By junior high, she was performing with a ballet company. In her sophomore year, she won her first musical lead, none other than Maria in West Side Story. "It was a wonderful and learning experience," she states. "When you're singing a score by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, not to mention speaking Arthur Laurents' words, you discover that there're many ways to express yourself. I was bitten by the bug, but wanted to do more than just dance. I wanted the whole shebang."

After college, she headed to New York, where she made her Broadway debut in A Chorus Line in 1982. Ziemba says she'd have a difficult time naming her favorite role, "but it would be hard to top my first Broadway experience and being part of a show about surviving as a dancer in theater. To start with one of the best was incredible. Every performance, I couldn't wait to get out there."

Ziemba is currently co-starring [except Sunday]through July 18 in Paper Mill Playhouse's Guys and Dolls as Adelaide opposite Michael Mastro's Nathan Detroit.

Little Shop of Horrors' Hunter Foster:
Tony nomination, Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical

How many Broadway musicals have the audience going wild as soon as the curtain rises? And it doesn't stop there. At the revival of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman's Little Shop of Horrors, the momentum builds like a runaway train. There are standing ovations before the actors even take their bows and screaming fans at the stage door.

"It was wonderful to have such enthusiast audiences," says Hunter Foster, who plays Seymour, the nerdy botanist, through Sunday [June 6], before going over to The Producers where he'll play Leo Bloom. "People know the characters and the songs -- from its original Off Broadway run, the film adaptation and the fact that it's been done by nearly every regional theatre, university and high school."

Foster, amazingly boyish for someone in his mid-30s, adds, "It was one thing to have seen it at your community theatre, but this is Broadway, with all the production values that name implies. And we did pull out all the stops. With a show as loved as Little Shop, there are high audience expectations. Our producers, choreographer Kathleen Marshall and [multi Tony-winning] director Jerry Zaks saw to it that we didn't disappoint."

Foster is, as probably everyone now knows, the brother of Broadway's Tony-winning former Thoroughly Modern Millie, Sutton Foster.

LSOH is black comedy at its best. "Though it's inherently funny," notes Foster, Jerry knows how to mine humor. He was careful to get us to base it on reality and truth as opposed to just doing shtick." That came a lot easier, he adds, because "the scope of the show is big. The story and songs fill the space. Alan Menken and Howard Ashman created a master class for anyone interested in writing musicals. From the opening moment, its boom, boom, boom -- one song after another. That lifts us off and we never let up in taking the audience higher and higher!"

Foster was also honored with a Drama Desk nomination for Outstanding Actor in a Musical.

Golda's Balcony's Tovah Feldshuh:
Tony nomination, Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Play

Feldshuh has made a career playing heroic women: three queens of Henry VIII, nine Jews who age from birth to death in an Off Broadway play, a young Jewish woman masquerading as a man, a Brazilian bombshell fielding two husbands in a Broadway musical and such divas as Sarah Bernhardt and fashion doyen Diana Vreeland.

But, she says, all those roles pale beside her career-defining role as Russian-born, American-bred Israeli prime minister Golda Meir in Golda's Balcony by William Gibson [Miracle Worker, Two for the Seesaw].

Downtown, in her extraordinarily successful four-month run at Soho's Manhattan Ensemble Theater, and in the move to Broadway, Feldshuh's performance garnered almost unanimous critical acclaim. The tour-de-force is a triumphant return to Broadway where she was absent 13 years.

Don't think she wasn't working. In addition to her Off Broadway Tallulah Hallelujah! [2001] and recurring roles on TV's Law & Order and the now defunct The Education of Max Bickford, which starred Richard Dreyfuss, she performs in concert. She also played the hip Jewish mother in 2001's hit indie Kissing Jessica Stein as well as having roles in that year's The Believer and Friends and Family.

Feldshuh, the sister of playwright David Feldshuh [Miss Evers' Boys], made her Broadway debut in her 20s as Terry Sue Feldshuh in the chorus of 1973's brilliant but short-lived musical adaptation of Cyrano starring Christopher Plummer. She went on to do TV [Ryan's Hope and the mini-series Holocaust] and star on Broadway in Yentl, Sarav‡ and Lend Me a Tenor, each earning her a Tony nod for Best Actress - and three Drama Desk Awards.

"All my roles were women to be reckoned with," she says, "however nothing I've done has been as fulfilling as portraying Golda Meir."

There was much preparation and, before each performance, still is.

"In doing my research, I was struck by the fact that Golda was a woman of remarkable intelligence, voracious appetite and untrampled emotional freedom. She was not your sweet motherly or grandmotherly type. She could be a fierce warrior, a lioness. She had no fears because she had a vision and was dedicated to a cause greater than herself. The seminal incidents in Golda's life were the pogroms she experienced as a child of a poor family in Russia."

She goes all-out to portray the chain-smoking, black coffee-loving Meir. "Golda was a woman who took chances that were extreme. I don't drink much or shoot up. I have a fairly normal life - marriage, kids, no maid. My acting career is an opportunity to explore parameters without living them, but truth is always vital."

She is extensively made up with body fittings and a prosthetic nose. Since she never smoked, Feldshuh took lessons. She grins, showing her "tobacco stained" teeth. "So far," she adds, "I don't inhale and I'm not hooked. We tried using vegetable cigarettes, but they smelled up the place. It was as if someone was cooking vanilla and marijuana."

The P.M. was a pretty shrewd character, but her demanding political career had consequences. "It destroyed her marriage and family," Feldshuh states. "She also did her share of fiddling, and not on the roof. One very surprising aspect was the number of lovers she had. Oi vey."

As a stateswoman, Meir wasn't exactly loved by everyone. "Friendly with everyone in politics actually doesn't work," states Feldshuh. "Golda always tried to take the higher ground."

Feldshuh won a 2003 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Sole Performance.

Big River's Jeff Calhoun:
Not nominated, but who directed this nominee for Best Revival

When something is unique, it's unique. We're taught it can't be "more unique" or "most unique." But there are exceptions to every rule. And that unique exception was found in the return to Broadway of Deaf West's adaptation of the 1985 Tony Award-winning musical Big River: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

A "deaf musical," you say? Hummmm. To say the least, it was non-traditional in the annuals of theater.

Calhoun [co-choreographer of the Annie Get Your Gun revival and the Tony-nominated choreographer of 1994's Grease revival], who also did the choreography, says, "Mere words can't describe the experience. I looked at it as a new art form. It turned out to be the most rewarding experience of my life and, standing at the back of Roundabout's American Airlines Theatre, I saw that audiences felt the same."

"What made it unique," he explains, "was that you heard language and ësaw' it at the same time."

Music, dance, voice and sign language were interwoven among nine deaf and hard-of-hearing actors and nine hearing actors, who performed in the spoken/sung word as well as sign language.

From Deaf West's start in 1990 as the first professional American Sign Language theatre in the West, founder/artistic director Ed Waterstreet wanted to do a sign language musical. "In 2000 it was announced they'd do Oliver! and Ed contacted me to direct. I didn't know what to think. I mean, a deaf musical! I had to give that a lot of thought."

As the first audience members came, there was reason to worry. "In the first minutes," reports Waterstreet, "some audience members were a bit unsure, but, as they got sucked into the unique rhythms, they became fascinated as the signing and vocals meshed. Soon, they were in another world."

The show was such a hit that their North Hollywood 66-seat theatre was overrun. Waterstreet and Calhoun immediately began looking to do another musical. They struck the mother lode with Big River.

Notes Waterstreet, "We found the perfect director in Jeff. He understands my vision of signing and hearing coming together; and, inside, he really developed the skills to make it work seamlessly."

Not that the end result came easy. "It was scary the first time," says Calhoun, "even more so with Big River. It took hours and hours of rehearsing scenes and songs again and again. We had six weeks of rehearsal and, before that, script preparation. I never realized how much patience I had! In rehearsals, we are only able to use a piano. The orchestra came much later, so it was difficult for the deaf actors to pick up the rhythms from the piano tones."

Interestingly, adapting the show into a "deaf musical" didn't expand it. "In fact," Calhoun adds, "we made it tighter without cutting anything."

After their sell-out run, Big River was up-sized and presented for a smash 10-week run at the Mark Taper Forum, where it won six Ovation Awards and five more Drama Critics' Circle Awards, including Best Director and Best Musical.

Jim Carnahan, director of artistic development/director of casting for Roundabout, saw it at the Taper. After waxing ecstatic to Roundabout's Todd Haimes about how impressed and moved he was, Haimes made the decision to bring it to Broadway for a limited engagement which ended up being extended. [The production has since has run in Chicago.]

Calhoun says the experience was an adventure in self-discovery. Fittingly, since Big River is an adventure of self-discovery in 1840s America.

Though he was not nominated in the 2004 Tony Award Director of a Musical category, Calhoun was honored with a Drama Desk nomination for Outstanding Director.
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