Today is the birthday of the wonderful singer, Sue Raney. I met Sue for the first time about twenty years-or-so ago. I was a mere fan back then and did not know her personally. But when Michel Legrand, who I did know, asked me for suggestions for a singer to tour with him, w/o hesitation I suggested Sue. He was not familiar with her, but I guess my word carried some weight. The next thing I knew, an audition for Sue had been set up and, so the legend goes, she had only to sing a few bars for this inarguable genius to stop accompanying her long enough to inform that she'd got the gig. And for the next few months, theirs was a music partnership made in (I'm sure Legrand would describe it as) "zee heavens." And that is how I came to know Sue Raney.
A few months ago a friend gave me a DVD-R chock full to the outer edge of Raney video appearances circa 60s-80s. Wowie zowie, does the camera ever love her! Every bit as much as the recording studio mic. And today, she looks almost entirely untouched by time. More than her fair share of pipes . . .and good genes!
There were a number of fine singers coming up in the early sixties, with the name of Jennie Smith most immediately leaping to mind. But styles changed and careers faded, and perhaps only Sue can be said (aside from the inevitible Babs, who is sui generis and doesn't really count) to have truly survived rock and roll blowing almost everything and everybody else out of the water with the coming of the Beatles. Sue still maintains a steady touring career, especially with symphonic pops concerts in U.S. cities. And she toured Japan to great acclaim a few years back with the Clayton-Hamilton band. Plus she is in the process of recording not just one, but perhaps two new CDs.
A couple of years ago I attended a full-blown Raney concert in a theatrical setting in Thousand Oaks, CA. The place was packed to the rafters, and for Sue, time had stood still not just in the "looks" department, but in every other conceivable way. Enough to make you forget, if only for a couple of hours, that knowing observation---overheard on line a few years back at NYC's Planetarium Station p.o---of the Late, Great and (still) Incomparable Hildegarde: "Talent is a thing of the past." Certainly not where Sue Raney is concerned.
Happy birthday to you. . .Sweet Sue.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Dog Days Bloggin'
Getting kind of lazy with this blog, and so here's an instant replay of a few things that I posted on a Yahoo list serve yesterday and this morning:
1.) Never have I read an autobiography of a performer whose private life was more at odds with their public image than Jane Powell's "The Girl Next Door." I finally had to laugh to keep from crying. Every page full of disfunctionalese, i.e. victim of a childhood rape (she thinks, not sure) [see post no. 2 below], alienated from her parents, enough marital discord to fuel several nighttime soaps, a husband who made sexual moves on one of her children from a former spouse, a drugged-out suicidal son, dislike of nearly every one she worked with, massive financial woes, temporary loss of her singing voice, all culminating in a thwarted suicide attempt. Eventually, she appears to have found a degree of (perhaps) happiness with her skeenteenth husband, former child star Dickie Moore. But, in the immortal words of Thelma Ritter in All About Eve, "What a story! Everything but the hounds yapping at her rear end."
________________________________
Then someone on the aforementioned list pointed out that I was mistaken about the molestation, thus generating post number 2.)
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2.) You're absolutely right. It's been a while since I read the book as well. I'm so used to repressed childhood memories consisting of molestation, that I misremembered pillow-smothering as the former. Either way, not exactly awalk in the park.
On a happier note, I'd like to put in a good word for Powell's Verve LP, "Can't We Be Friends", arranged and conducted by erstwhile lister Buddy Bregman. Jane in a much jazzier setting than usual, and sounding a bit like Ruth Olay... from the next room.
I mentioned this to Ruth a while back, and she said this was not the first time she'd been told this. She's never heard the album but was delighted to bear a resemblance to someone as gifted as Jane Powell.
Speaking of Buddy Bregman, I believed he claims to have written one or several of the arrangements (or orchestrations?) used by Judy at Carnegie. They emanated from her Coconut Grove appearance. Much talk about this the last few days for obvious Rufusian reasons. I think, most specifically, the overture. I seem to recall that Bregman left this list [see above intro] in a snit a few years ago when the list posted, for the record, some of the less than flattering reviews he received for his New York Bing Crosby revue. (Not since Moose Murders....) And the problem was, that's all that there were.
3.) About twenty years ago the L.A. Times published an amazing article about Deanna Durbin. One of their writers---could it have been my friend Kevin Thomas?---found himself in the French Village where Durbin resides. They didn't know one another, but he decided to affect an unannounced pop-in. He rang the bell, or pulled the chain, or rapped with the knocker (it's been a while since I've read this---see previous post by me), or whatever, and a moment later the door was answered by someone immediately recogniseable. Doubtlessly Durbin! She was perfectly okay with the unannounced intrusion, and the writer spent the rest of the afternoon with her as she lived her daily life, went shopping in the market, etc. For anyone with the slighest interest in the delightful Durbin, it's well worth a trip to the nearest LAT microfiche collection. Might even be on the net, but doubrful.
I was at Songbirder Lew Spence's birthday party here in L.A. about a half-year back---the one where Pinky Winters sang AND accompanied herself on piano---and had a delightful conversation with writer-actor-director George Furth. He told me that he happened to be pretty good friends with Durbin. There were about a half-dozen others in the conversational circle (all much younger than Furth and myself), and not a single one of them had ever heard of Durbin. Not even a single, "I think I once heard my mother. . .." Somewhat ironically, even as I write this, Durbin is a very well-known and revered artist in the former Soviet Union where pretty much, I am told by reliable persons, nearly everyone knows who she is.
For the record, my favorite Durbin movie is "Christmas Holiday," where she plays piano in a whorehouse and falls in love with Gene Kelly who turns out to be a psychopatic killer and is mowed down in a hail of gunfire, after which she goes into a church and sings Ave Maria. The End! Directed by the great Robert Siodmak, who helmed this one between making "Phantom Lady" and "Cobra Woman". . .the same year, 1944!
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY WITH DEANNA DURBIN AND GENE KELLY! Clearly wartime movie patrons thought they getting a festive holiday musical romp. Instead, can you just imagine their utter shock, dismay and even occasional vomitation as they stumbled out of theaters after viewing this deceptive film noir? The film that intro'd Frank Loesser's "Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year."
1.) Never have I read an autobiography of a performer whose private life was more at odds with their public image than Jane Powell's "The Girl Next Door." I finally had to laugh to keep from crying. Every page full of disfunctionalese, i.e. victim of a childhood rape (she thinks, not sure) [see post no. 2 below], alienated from her parents, enough marital discord to fuel several nighttime soaps, a husband who made sexual moves on one of her children from a former spouse, a drugged-out suicidal son, dislike of nearly every one she worked with, massive financial woes, temporary loss of her singing voice, all culminating in a thwarted suicide attempt. Eventually, she appears to have found a degree of (perhaps) happiness with her skeenteenth husband, former child star Dickie Moore. But, in the immortal words of Thelma Ritter in All About Eve, "What a story! Everything but the hounds yapping at her rear end."
________________________________
Then someone on the aforementioned list pointed out that I was mistaken about the molestation, thus generating post number 2.)
_________________________________
2.) You're absolutely right. It's been a while since I read the book as well. I'm so used to repressed childhood memories consisting of molestation, that I misremembered pillow-smothering as the former. Either way, not exactly awalk in the park.
On a happier note, I'd like to put in a good word for Powell's Verve LP, "Can't We Be Friends", arranged and conducted by erstwhile lister Buddy Bregman. Jane in a much jazzier setting than usual, and sounding a bit like Ruth Olay... from the next room.
I mentioned this to Ruth a while back, and she said this was not the first time she'd been told this. She's never heard the album but was delighted to bear a resemblance to someone as gifted as Jane Powell.
Speaking of Buddy Bregman, I believed he claims to have written one or several of the arrangements (or orchestrations?) used by Judy at Carnegie. They emanated from her Coconut Grove appearance. Much talk about this the last few days for obvious Rufusian reasons. I think, most specifically, the overture. I seem to recall that Bregman left this list [see above intro] in a snit a few years ago when the list posted, for the record, some of the less than flattering reviews he received for his New York Bing Crosby revue. (Not since Moose Murders....) And the problem was, that's all that there were.
3.) About twenty years ago the L.A. Times published an amazing article about Deanna Durbin. One of their writers---could it have been my friend Kevin Thomas?---found himself in the French Village where Durbin resides. They didn't know one another, but he decided to affect an unannounced pop-in. He rang the bell, or pulled the chain, or rapped with the knocker (it's been a while since I've read this---see previous post by me), or whatever, and a moment later the door was answered by someone immediately recogniseable. Doubtlessly Durbin! She was perfectly okay with the unannounced intrusion, and the writer spent the rest of the afternoon with her as she lived her daily life, went shopping in the market, etc. For anyone with the slighest interest in the delightful Durbin, it's well worth a trip to the nearest LAT microfiche collection. Might even be on the net, but doubrful.
I was at Songbirder Lew Spence's birthday party here in L.A. about a half-year back---the one where Pinky Winters sang AND accompanied herself on piano---and had a delightful conversation with writer-actor-director George Furth. He told me that he happened to be pretty good friends with Durbin. There were about a half-dozen others in the conversational circle (all much younger than Furth and myself), and not a single one of them had ever heard of Durbin. Not even a single, "I think I once heard my mother. . .." Somewhat ironically, even as I write this, Durbin is a very well-known and revered artist in the former Soviet Union where pretty much, I am told by reliable persons, nearly everyone knows who she is.
For the record, my favorite Durbin movie is "Christmas Holiday," where she plays piano in a whorehouse and falls in love with Gene Kelly who turns out to be a psychopatic killer and is mowed down in a hail of gunfire, after which she goes into a church and sings Ave Maria. The End! Directed by the great Robert Siodmak, who helmed this one between making "Phantom Lady" and "Cobra Woman". . .the same year, 1944!
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY WITH DEANNA DURBIN AND GENE KELLY! Clearly wartime movie patrons thought they getting a festive holiday musical romp. Instead, can you just imagine their utter shock, dismay and even occasional vomitation as they stumbled out of theaters after viewing this deceptive film noir? The film that intro'd Frank Loesser's "Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year."
Friday, June 16, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
Mystery Singer Contest
Guess the mystery singer (mp3 link for a limited time only) and win a free copy of his new CD.
No Purchase Necessary to Enter or Win. Open to legal residents of the Universe. No employees or family members of People-vs-Dr. Chilledair, Inc. are eligible to enter. Void where prohibited by law. Deadline for email entries midnight 6/12/06. Send to cllr1@comcast.net . Only one entry per contestant. If clear skin persists, see your dermatologist.
No Purchase Necessary to Enter or Win. Open to legal residents of the Universe. No employees or family members of People-vs-Dr. Chilledair, Inc. are eligible to enter. Void where prohibited by law. Deadline for email entries midnight 6/12/06. Send to cllr1@comcast.net . Only one entry per contestant. If clear skin persists, see your dermatologist.
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