You Are Woman...

                         

Last one. I tried to get it posted before 3/26 was over but I didn't quite make it. I didn't even have time to make a proper background, however my little Barbra here is standing in front of a blown up image from the original set from of Funny Girl.  

I'm exhausted so here are the highlights: this dress is featured in the scene where Barbra as Fanny, a nice Jewish girl, is seduced in a hotel's private dining room and loses her virginity. It features exquisite bead and floral work, and has a matching cape that perhaps I will draw when Funny Girl turns 100. Good night and see you all in 2064. 

The Music That Makes Me Dance

                 

Musical theatre people in the know (i.e., people who agree with me) have long felt that the real standout ballad from the Funny Girl score is not People, but rather the lesser known eleven o'clock number The Music That Makes Me Dance. 

It's a soaring, bluesy ballad about devotion and, unfortunately, loosing yourself in someone else. In other words, a torch song. If it had been released as a single the way People had been, I'm not sure it would have been as big a hit. With lyrics like "and as far as the man is concerned, if I've been burned, I haven' learned," it has a darker view of love and devotion than the somber yet hopeful People with its "children needing other children."

I have to say...well, I don't have to but it's my blog so I'm gonna say I don't quite understand her costume for this number. It's a black sequined v-neck top with a floor length black skirt and a strand of pearls. There's nothing wrong with it exactly, but for me it lacks the precision of most of the other Irene Sharaff looks Barbra wore in the show. It strikes me as something she might have worn at one of her club dates in the Village more than a costume for a period Broadway show. On the other hand, it was fun and a bit of a challenge to draw sequins. 

People

A Slightly more Realistic Portrait

People was of course a big hit song for Barbra, and it stands alone just fine away from the show. However, I've always preferred it in the context of the story where Fanny and Nick both realize that despite the hustle and bustle of their busy lives and always having lots of people around, neither one of them has found true intimacy with "one very special person." 

The dress for the Broadway production is once again very similar to the one later created for the film. They both feature a dramatic bolero type jacket with large beads and peekaboo slits in the shoulders, along with a full, ankle length, iridescent skirt. The primary difference is that on stage the bodice piece was made up of delicate pink beading and the one made for the film featured a bold argyle pattern, as pictured below. 

I know I'm totally geeking out today, but I have to say it kind of feels like a holiday in my heart.

Don't Rain On My Parade

Now I'm going to geek out for a minute--as if this whole blog weren't one big geek out. 

The costume Irene Sharaff designed for Barbra to wear for Don't Rain On My Parade, the tongue twisting anthem that closes Act 1 of Funny Girl, is remarkably similar to the orange wool ensemble she designed for the film version. There are a few differences, such as the nehru collar and the centered buttons for the film version. All of the pictures I've been able to find of the Broadway dress seem to have the buttons slightly left of center. It's also missing the black belt seen in the film.

Interestingly, a version of the dress was created in green wool and tested by the filmmakers (see picture below) but ultimately scrapped in favor of the orange. 

His Love Makes Me Beautiful

I thought it would be fun if Barbra, as Fanny Brice as a pregnant bride in a Ziegfeld Follies number, was much larger and far more detailed than everyone else. If Barbra is on stage, I figure one wouldn't really be looking at the chorus boys and showgirls. 

#barbrastreisand

Funny Girl at 50: March 26, 1964

Backstage at the Winter Garden, 1964

                                   





I have drawn Barbra Streisand's face literally hundreds of times. It is my go-to doodle. My renditions are not particularly realistic but they are usually recognizable. I always start the same way: two almond shaped eyes with Cleopatra like makeup, followed by a long squiggly line for a nose, and an exceptionally puffy and wide upper lip. I've casually created her in pencil, ink, crayon, marker, sidewalk chalk, Legos, Lite Brite, and once even carved her into the side of a pumpkin (side note: the natural lines of a pumpkin are a good guide for Barbra's '60s era pageboy.)

Today, March 26, marks the 50th anniversary of the Broadway premiere of Barbra's legendary hit show Funny Girl. In honor of the occasion, and because it was fun for me to do, I've created a series of pieces (watercolor, pen, pencil, marker, but alas no pumpkin) based on the Broadway production.

Mostly I've used my standard Barbra face, with a few variations. I'll be posting them throughout the day. If you're familiar with Funny Girl, and if you've come to my blog I've got to believe that you are, then you'll know that it remains at the epicenter of Barbra's career even half a century on. If you're not familiar with it, perhaps these pieces will encourage you to seek out the film or the soundtrack. What a treat you have in front of you.

Gloria Steinem: A Birthday Salute

Gloria Steinem made over as her childhood hero Wonder Woman

[Tuesday March 25 marks the 80th birthday of my old boss and friend, author and activist Gloria Steinem. I had planned to post the following on Tuesday, but if the New York Times can publish their birthday tribute two days early, well then so can I!]

You don’t have to possess a golden lasso of truth, or an invisible airplane, or even bullet defying wrists cuffs (those are way too clunky to call them bracelets) in order to be a super hero. I’m sure these trappings of Amazonian strength got Diana Prince out of many a jam, but they are hardly required.

You don’t believe me? Just look at Gloria Steinem. She has been a flesh and blood hero to millions of women, children, and men all over the world for more than forty years now. Her weapons…no, strike that. Her tools have modified over the years and have included everything from a reporter’s notebook and pen, to a tape recorder, a manual typewriter, a Mac, a mimeograph machine, hand painted banners, a megaphone, and even a pair of tap shoes.

But don’t be fooled; just because her tools are comprised of everyday objects, that does not mean she has not been gifted by the Goddesses with great powers. Among these gifts, some instinctive and others developed through hard work and experience, Gloria possesses a fierce intellect, a quick but kind wit, a warm and prepossessing smile, an ability to make everyone feel heard, to feel that they can be part of the solution to just about any problem, and perhaps most helpfully, a highly evolved sense of empathy that extends to all creatures, on four legs or two.  

Perhaps on another occasion I shall write about why Gloria has always meant so much to me personally, but for now I’d be happy if everyone who reads this would join me in simply wishing Gloria a very Happy Birthday and thank her for always using her powers for good.

#gloriasteinem

The St. Patrick's Day Miracle

Gather 'round lads and lasses, wet the tea, or grab a pint of Gat as I retell the story of the St. Patrick's Day Miracle (this year with commemorative art!) Despite what you may have heard in legend, it has absolutely nothing to do with snakes.

Many a fortnight ago, oh say around 1997, I was working in an office on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. I was of course wearing my green sweater (never orange on St. Paddy's Day--me mum would come back and beat me with a shillelagh if I even thought about wearing the protestant color on March 17.) Pinned to my sweater was my shamrock shaped button embossed in gold with the phrase Mazel Tov. I'm nothing if not multicultural. I was ready to celebrate. The only thing missing was a little Irish music. 

I had a small CD player on my desk during this dark, unenlightened age before the dawn of the Ipod, but save for one song, I had no Irish music with me. That one song was Carly Simon singing Danny Boy (taught to her as a child, incidentally, by her Irish nanny Annie Brennan) and so I played it. Again and again, over and over, relentlessly for nearly six hours.

I'm not completely oblivious; I did notice how badly this wore on my co-worker's nerves, but I was enjoying myself so much that I chose to ignore it. Eventually someone did beg me to stop; I didn't. I just turned the volume down a little.

At about 4 pm I had to drop off a package for a client a few blocks away at 73rd and Park. As I'm walking up Lexington Avenue it happened: the conjuring, the St. Patrick's Day Miracle. Begorra, if it isn't Carly Simon in the flesh!  And on the East side. Everyone knows she's a Westsider. Musha!

I broke that unwritten contract that New Yorkers have with celebrities. I acknowledged her.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but it's St. Patrick's Day and I've been playing your version of Danny Boy all day long and my co-workers are about ready to kill me. It's the only Irish music I have."

She was sweet and personable, as she always has been when I've met her at book and record signings over the years. We wished each other a Happy St Paddy's Day and went our separate ways. 

I could drink 100 pints, stumble upon a pot of gold, or dance jigs and reels until I'm green in the face and never have a more perfect St. Patrick's Day.

#carlysimon

Synchronized Swimming In The City

                                  

3/2/2014

I'm taking a synchronized swimming class in a public gym on Manhattan's Upper East Side. I'm splashing about in the pool with dozens of women, and all of us, including  my friend Sarah Jessica Parker, are wearing mermaid tails.

But alas, I am not really myself. Instead I am an impossibly glamorous African American woman. I kind of look like the girl on New Girl--the one that's not Zooey Deschanel. I have to say, my hair and makeup are pretty stellar considering I've been swimming in an over chlorinated public pool.

SJP has her hair pinned up, which was a smart move and I find myself wishing I had thought of it. She really seems to be in her element, as she gracefully executes ballet-like hand movements, while the strength of her tail work keeps her upper torso nearly perpendicular with the water.

Midway through the class I've had it. I lazily swim--if there were a word that meant "to saunter while swimming," I would use it here--so I lazily swim...Nay, swaunter, I swaunter to the side of the pool and attempt to climb out.

I call back to SJP, who continues to bob up and down like a dancer on point, "I'm not feelin' this. I'm just not that into it."

                                     

#Sarahjessicaparker

Hey There and Happy Birthday, Georgy Girl

                      

Remembering my favorite Redgrave, Lynn,  on her birthday.  I tried to capture her in her role as Baby Jane Hudson. I think I'm the only person In the world who prefers the remake of Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? with the Redgrave sisters. 

#lynnredgrave #babyjane 

Oscar Week: Barbra Streisand

                               

Oh come on. Did you really think I'd spend a whole week of writing about Oscar winners and creating portraits and not include Barbra Streisand? Shame on you!

Barbra won her Best Actress Oscar for her film debut in the 1968 film adaptation of her Broadway triumph Funny Girl. But it wasn't solely Barbra's Oscar; in a rare tie, Barbra shared the title of Best Actress with Katherine Hepburn. 

The footage of Ingrid Bergman making the announcement is priceless. She's clearly taken aback as she starts to read aloud, "the winner," pause, pause..."it's a tie!"

 A nervous smile dances across her face as she clasps her chin then clutches her chest. "The winners are Katherine Hepburn in  Lion in the Winter." Bergman places the "the" in the middle of the title instead of the beginning, but with her beautiful accent it doesn't much matter.

After polite applause she continues, "and Barbra Streisand!" The place pretty much goes ape shit. Streisand has the original Jennifer Lawrence moment catching her enormous bell bottom pant on the stairs as she heads to the podium, nearly going ass over tit (to borrow a phrase from Helen Mirren.) Luckily for Barbra, director Anthony Harvey, who was also on his way to the podium to collect Hepburn's Oscar, was holding her hand at the time and was able to keep her upright. 

Harvey speaks first. After he finishes Barbra steps to the microphone and takes a good long look at Oscar. The unmistakable sound of her jewelry clinking against Oscar can be heard just before she address the naked golden man with her opening line from Funny Girl, "Hello, gorgeous!"

Much has been written about the sheer and sparkly pant suit Streisand wore on Oscar night. Designed by Scaasi, who was also doing her modern costumes for On A Clear Day You Can See Forever around the same time, the outfit featured a large white collar, a satin bow tie, and over-sized cuffs and on the sleeves, as well as a thin black net lining to preserve Barbra's modestly. Unfortunately the lining was no match for the television lights and photographer's flash bulbs. Barbra appeared to be going commando, especially from her backside.

Though I don't agree, many fashion wags dubbed the outfit a disaster.  At least Barbra retained a sense of humor about the situation. As Scaasi would later write, "next morning Barbra was on the phone to me, laughing about the whole episode." 

A note about the illustration: it's from a color sketch I made, then altered using photo software, and finally   hand painted the edited image using a combination of watercolor, acrylic, and marker.

Oscar Week: Faye Dunaway

               

The morning after Faye Dunaway won her Oscar for Network, she was famously photographed lounging poolside in her bathrobe at the Beverly Hills Hotel. The photographer Terry O'Neill, who would eventually become first Dunaway's husband and in quick succession her former husband, set the scene with copies of that morning's LA Times strewn about, a serving tray with a green teapot, and of course Faye's new Oscar. 

The photo has become somewhat iconic since it was shot in 1977. That far away look on Dunaway's face might suggest any number of things from quiet reflection to smug self satisfaction. Then again, she might just have been exhausted from a night of heavy partying. It was the 70s after all.   

Oscar Week: Anne Bancroft

Tonight's post is kind of a twofer. You've got Anne Bancroft accepting her best actress Oscar for playing Annie Sullivan in The Miracle Worker in 1963 (a role that also won her a Tony Award on Broadway) from past winner Joan Crawford (Mildred Pierce.)

The story behind their meeting is kind of interesting. Bancroft was nominated along with Crawford's Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? co-star Bette Davis. Crawford who was not nominated, famously clashed with Davis while making the picture. When word got out that Bancroft would not be able to attend the ceremony because she'd be appearing on Broadway in a production of Brecht's Mother Courage and Her Children, Crawford somehow finagled her way into reading a brief acceptance speech  on Bancroft's behalf should she win. 

Much to Bette Davis's consternation, Maximilian Schell opened the envelope and announced Anne Bancroft as the winner. Crawford sashayed from the wings up to the podium and had her moment in the sun. But she didn't stop there. Eventually she made her way to New York and presented Bancroft with her Oscar during a curtain call for Mother Courage. 

This was one of those good news/bad news moments for Bancroft. Sure, she finally got to accept her Oscar, but she did so in a tattered potato sack-of-a-costume, with dirt caked on her face and streaks of grey hair poking out of a natty beret while her presenter once again pulled focus in a custom gown and designer jewels.