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 Remembering Gerry
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The
crowd on 45th Street for the reception for Gerry
Schoenfeld of the Shubert Organization. 5/10/05. |
11/26. Damp, grey day, yesterday in New York. Massive gridlock on crosstown streets and eastern avenues by mid-afternoon. Right about now the City begins to empty out for the long holiday weekend which gets underway this afternoon.
Gerry Schoenfeld, the head of the Shubert Organization, died the night before last at his home here. He had been to the opening of the new spectacular film “Australia,” and afterwards suffered a heart attack.
I knew Mr. Schoenfeld mainly because we were fellow frequent patrons at Michael’s restaurant where he was in attendance at least two or three times a week. I was first aware of the man many years ago, in the late 1960s when I had a part-time job assisting Jimmy, the maitre d’, at Sardi’s. He and his business associate Bernie Jacobs often came in with a man named Lawrence Shubert Lawrence, one of the few, perhaps the only blood heir of the great theatre empire founded by three brothers, Sam, J.J. and Lee Shubert.
In those days, Broadway, including the stars playing in the shows, they came by Sardi’s frequently and often daily -- for lunch, dinner or drinks at the bar. Sardi’s was the hub, the rialto of the Great White Way, and “the Shuberts” were the leading name in the business known as The Theatre.
Mr. Shubert Lawrence always looked like the head honcho of the troika. A redhaired man (graying), flush complexion with watery eyes, he was a bit taller than Schoenfeld and Jacobs, and with more of a sartorial flair (read: expensively dressed) – always with a camelhair coat in the cold weather. Schoenfeld and Jacobs always seemed to be one step behind him, as if they were his security men (I think in reality they were his financial security men), keeping one step ahead, as it were, of potential disaster. To these young eyes, they looked like the official babysitters. They were Broadway characters through and through, right out of Runyon and Winchell.
Eventually they wrested control from Mr. Lawrence of the Organization and the Foundation which owned about two dozen theatres including 17 in the Broadway theatre district. At the time, it was widely believed that the theatre was dying (“the theatre is practically dead ...”), Schoenfeld and Jacobs changed that, and the Shubert Organization by become producers’ producers. The results produced a renaissance: shows like “Chorus Line” – which ran for fifteen years, and “Phantom of the Opera,” to name only two of many.
Since he was very powerful in his business and a man who appeared to have a shrewd eye on it at all times, there must have been times when dealing with him was no day in the country. You could see he could be tough because his memory was encyclopedic and respectful of all nuances. However, in Michael’s, where we spoke frequently, coming and going, as well as in groups with others, he loved nothing more than table hopping, greeting, jesting, bidding good-bye and maybe dropping an anecdote on his way out the door. |
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A Hirschfeld illustration of Gerry Schoenfeld and Bernie Jacobs |
His exchange was always a pleasure for this starry eyed kid (still). He moved around without haste but smoothly, but his energy belied his great age. He was often lunching with talent – directors, composers (several weeks ago he was with Andrew Lloyd Webber to discuss his new show). To me he was a fount of history and he loved recounting it as much as I loved to listen. He had a dry sense of humor that produced laughter, joined in by him. His cleverness as a businessman was matched by his awe of his business – the American theatre and its history. Perhaps because of that, he never got old in mind. The new never shocked him. Surprised and annoyed him at times, maybe, but he was interested in the big picture and the audience who would pay to see it, and so he changed right along with it.
Bruce Weber has written an excellent obituary in today’s New York Times. He and his wife Pat were, in their way, the First Couple of Broadway. Mrs. Schoenfeld seemed to love the theatre and all of its denizens as much as her husband. They were married for more than a half century and thinking of them yesterday, I realized that he’d also been graced with the perfect helpmeet for the man who life was his business, his job.
He loved his work. He had a loyal, attentive wife. He was a consummate New Yorker –b orn and bred, old Manhattan accent and all. It was a charmed life. And blessed.
Three years ago he paid tribute to himself and Mr. Jacobs by renaming two of the Shubert Theatres after himself and his colleague. This was essentially a retirement move although I don’t believe he ever retired. The gesture was not without public criticism although the man didn’t care. To him, he was as much a child and citizen of that world as the biggest names in the business. And he was. Raised and taught by the past six decades in the American theatre, Gerry Schoenfeld was without peer.
From NYSD’s coverage of the official opening of the “new” Schoenfeld and Jacobs theaters on June 10, 2005:
JH and I hightailed
it over to the Marriott Marquis on 45th and Broadway, itself hardly
a landmark, the site of so much demolition that few buildings (except
for the Paramount Building on 43rd and Broadway) along the main stem
are still standing. We were going to the reception for Gerry
Schoenfeld of the Shubert Organization.
At 7:30, just
halfway down the block from the hotel, on 45th between Broadway
and Eighth Avenue, New Yorkers were about to witness the
re-naming of two Shubert theaters – the Plymouth, which last
night became the Schoenfeld, and the Royale, which became the Jacobs.
Mr. Schoenfeld and the late Bernie Jacobs (who passed
away in 1996) were the guiding forces behind the Shubert theater
empire which began
with three brothers from Syracuse, Sam, J.J. and Lee
Shubert in the
late 19th century.
Today the Shubert Organization is the largest
theater owner on the Great White Way (16, including the Winter Garden,
the Lyceum, the Broadway, the Ethel Barrymore, as well as the Sardi
Building). It also owns, leases and manages theaters in Washington,
Los Angeles and Philadelphia.
It
was a beautiful night for closing off the block between
Broadway and Eighth. Hundreds, including media and many friends
of the theater and many friends of Mrs. Jacobs and Pat
and Gerry Schoenfeld congregated before a platform
between the two theaters (which are next door to each other).
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Two members of the cast of Avenue Q opened
the dedication of two Shubert theaters (the Schoenfeld
and
the Jacobs) with
puppets in the likeness of Gerry Schoenfeld and the late Bernie
Jacobs. |
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Two
members of the cast of Avenue Q (playing one
house down at the Golden) opened the dedication with puppets
in the likeness of Schoenfeld and Jacobs, making some historical
and hysterical banter about the re-naming of the theaters.
They were followed by Broadway’s new matinee idol Hugh Jackman who
delivered an affectionate testimonial to Mr. Schoenfeld.
This was followed by
a sudden spotlight on the balcony of the Music Box Theater across the way, and Dame
Edna in all her spangled and lavendar-tressed glory delivering her priceless bon mots directed at Mr. Schoenfeld, after which the Australian “former
housewife/superstar” read a hilarious poem about working for and admiring
the Shubert Organization and Mr. S. It was all pure Broadway community. |
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Dominick
Dunne, Casey Ribicoff, Peter Rogers, and Tita Cahn |
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Shirley
Lord Rosenthal and Abe Rosenthal |
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Toni
Goodale |
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Dame
Edna delivering her speech on the balcony of the Music
Box Theater |
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Hugh
Jackman and his wife Deborra-Lee Furness |
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Gerry
Schoenfeld and Hugh Jackman watching Dame Edna from across
the street |
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The
Royale Theatre and Plymouth Theatre minutes before their re-christening
as the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre and Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre
respectively |
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