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While
DPC was in the NY cold, JH was in Palm Beach for the weekend. |
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Yesterday
late afternoon I went over to the West Side for my Zabar’s
fix. The Park is beautiful with its legions of tall tall trees, now
naked ghosts of autumn. They reach up and out like ancient dancers
of Martha Graham. Their wet dark brown limbs and trunks crested and
coated with sinuous, frozen streams of snow. Mother Nature’s
amassing a haze of obliquities under a dull gray January sky. Yes,
it had that effect.
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Bette
descending on stage with her horse to kick off the show |
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Saturday
night a friend invited me to see Bette Midler’s review
“Kiss My Brass” at Madison Square Garden. The last time
I was at the Garden was to see Barbra Streisand’s
show several years ago. At that show I was a guest of a friend who
paid a scalper a thousand bucks a ticket (my friend bought four) for
seats in the forty-sixth row in front of the stage. For a thousand
bucks I got to sit behind two girls from Texas with ten-inch high
bee-hive hairdos. They juss luvved Bah-brah! And as a result
what I got to see “live” of the Streisand performance
was the back of two blond beehives dancing left to right like two
furry metronomes as they sang along with the diva. We all know Miss
Streisand was/is/will always be very good but the seats were not,
thousand bucks and all.
Saturday night we were up in the peanut gallery (89.50!
for the ticket) so that a telescope might have helped in seeing The
Divine Miss M up close. Although there were a couple of monitors which
were ... okay. However. The Divine Miss M is so dee-vine that it don’t
matter where you sit just as long as you can be in the same space
with her.
She works it and she works it. She tippy-trips and trundles along
in those stilettos with her pursey little baby-steps, elbows bent,
hands dainty-danglin’ at the wrist; such a saucy girl. And she
sings. And when it’s bluesy, the voice is haunting. And when
it’s raucous its rowsa-yowsah. And she tells her sorta-smutty
Clementine or Ernest jokes and splashes her fins about in her motorized
chair (you had to be there), and takes you on a magic carpet ride
to the biggest fun house in town.
Do I love her? Could I not? Doesn’t everybody? She’s just
somethin’ else. And man she works. It’s a big production,
this show with its bright and splashy Belle Epoque Castle Garden vaudeville
stage design, and her witty and clever Harlettes fabulously backing
her up.
The show got started about 8:20 and was over about 11:10 with a fifteen
minute break. That’s a long time for any girl to be workin’
in – even thirty years on. We got our money’s worth and
then some.
I remember the beginning of her career. Late 60s, early
70s, Bette Midler was the most famous unknown in New York, performing
on weekends in a gay bathhouse with half naked guys standing around
with towels wrapped around their waists, in the old Ansonia Hotel
(same building still called the Ansonia on 73rd and Broadway). She
was known then for her outrageously raunchy, raucous, and heavenly
romantic style. Everyone was referring to her as the new Streisand.
Which meant: not a conventional beauty but a big gorgeous talent.
She had a very talented accompanist too. He wasn’t a conventional
beauty either and many lamented at the time that had he been, he could
have had a great career. His name: Barry Manilow.
I was thinking about those days, watching her command that huge Garden
stage on Saturday night. I never got to see her at the Baths (which
later became a straight sex club called Plato’s Retreat) but
like everyone else I was aware of her talent through her first LP
(pre CD) called “The Divine Miss M” (with a sensational
cover illustrated by another great talent – who came to an untimely
end from AIDS in the ‘80s – Richard Amsell).
I was thinking how this woman looks better than ever, sounds better
than ever, is funnier and flashier than ever; and now a major presence
both on the stage and in the community.
She gives you a good time, a fun time, a lotta laughs. After the finale
she comes back for an encore with “The Rose” and sends
us home with her signature, Buzzy Linhart’s
“Ya Gotta Friends ..." By then, she’s beat and so
are you. What a sweeet and fabulous evening — and lucky
New York to have her as our own. |
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Clinton
Howell |
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Susan
Fales-Hill, Felicia Taylor, and Somers Farkas |
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John
Rosselli |
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Over
at the 67th Street Armory last Thursday night we saw
the 50th anniversary of the Winter Antiques Show with the opening
night preview benefitting the East Side House Settlement. Mayor
Bloomberg was this year’s Honorary Chairman and Arie
Kopelman was chair. Opening night was sponsored by Elle
Décor Magazine (Margaret Russell, editor-in-chief)
with special sponsor Ralph Lauren Fragrances. Everyone got a little
black (paper) bag containing RLF’s “Ralph Lauren Purple
Label” eau de toiletete natural spray.
Oprah was there with bodyguard and decorator type.
Kim Cattrall was there with her decorator (and best
buddy) Tony Ingrao. Shopping for her new apartment.
Along with several hundred more of the usual suspects all looking
sleek and sophisticated, perfect companions to the fantastic and beautiful
items for sale at fantastic and beautiful (depending the state of
your bank account) prices.
This is a great evening for the East Side House Settlement, which
was founded more than a century ago as an oasis to help people help
themselves, “providing hope, help, and resutls within America’s
poorest congressional district.” |
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Sam
Michaels and Muffie Potter Aston |
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Carol
Mack |
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Carl
and Sabrina Forsythe |
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Dear
DPC:
Last Thursday night’s preview party celebrating
the opening of the 50th annual Winter Antiques Show at the
Park Avenue Armory presented a sartorial challenge to New
York’s most glamorous collectors. Outside the temperature
was a bracing four degrees Fahrenheit. Inside, the air was
warmed by camaraderie and commerce. Acres of mink coats
were checked, snow boots exchanged for satin slippers, hat-crushed
coiffes re-poofed, and the party unfurled.
Though
we never spotted Oscar de la Renta, his
handiwork was out in force. His Fall/Winter 2003 collection
featuring exquisitely embroidered coats and jackets with
narrow waists and high collars – several wise ladies
bundled up and sparkled in them.
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Pat
Altchul in her Oscar |
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Coco
Chanel smiled from the heavens – many elegant
shoppers opted for the timeless warmth of her signature
wool bouclé jackets. Among them was Bessie
Hanahan, the connoisseur from Charleston, classically
done up in black and white. When asked whether she’d
found any suitable objets, Miss Bessie replied, “I
always find things here. Always.”
Oprah arrived, proving once again that
less is more, the doyenne of daytime TV, in black turtleneck,
black trousers and her heartstopping diamond earrings from
Harry Winston. Oprah is keen on all things Shaker, but this
night she was on the prowl for something jazzier –
stopping to inspect Flemish tapestries and Arts & Crafts
chairs.
Between the freezing weather, the boiling Dow and the free-flowing
bubbly, the crowd was enjoying themselves. Caught up in
the excitement, I asked one of the vendors for a quickie
“Antiques Roadshow” appraisal of the Alfred
Munnings color lithograph hanging above my sofa.
Her booth featured oils by the same artist – going
for around $750,000 a piece. After listening patiently to
my description, she smiled, “Ah, yes ... those were
very popular.”
— Daphne
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Brian
Stewart and Stephanie Krieger |
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Cynthia
Lufkin |
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Estelle
Greer and friend |
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John Singer Sargent's portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Anson Phelps
Stokes |
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The
Antiques Show annual mystery she-male |
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Paul
Austen |
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Denise
Rich |
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Susan
Brody and Linda Silverman |
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Pat
Altschul |
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Anne
Pyne and friend |
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Sharon
King Hoge |
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Connor
Mahoney and Edith Dickinson |
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Jeff
Klein |
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Roberta
Sanderman |
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Tony
Ingrao and Kim Cattrall |
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David
and Neva Anton |
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Eric
Cohler |
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Mario
Buatta |
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Carol
Moore |
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Steve
Stempler |
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All
work, no play |
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Charles
Mirotznik and Baroness von Langerwall |
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Stephanie
Stokes |
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Diana
Quasha |
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Charles
Kaufmann, Princess Antoinette Millard, and Georgia Kaufmann |
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Eddie
Keshishian before his tapestry |
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Notes
from Prendergast —
Dear DPC:
Last Thursday night, Men’s
Health magazine celebrated the 50th birthday of PageSix’
Richard Johnson at Marquee. Johnson parties hard
with the rest of us, stays at the top of his game while maintaining
the appearance of a 35-year-old ... as we struggle to keep up with
him.
Masterminded by Doug Dechert, the party was THE hot
ticket in town. Friends I haven’t heard from in months suddenly
called in the hopes of accompanying me. One of the uninvited, involved
with the party in a peripheral manner, stopped by at 7:45 on a business
related matter, and then hid himself in the men’s room, planning
to emerge unnoticed once the party was under way. Security escorted
him out at 7:59 (aw com’on guys). |
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Richard
Johnson surrounded at his 50th birthday party |
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Who
was there? A Palm Beach contingent who flew in under Arctic conditions.
Chappy Adams and his wife Dianna. Bob Zeitler,
publisher of Clematis magazine, and Frances Leidy.
Also among the anointed: Uma Thurman, Andre Balacz, Petra
Nemcova, Rose McGowen, Harvey Weinstein, Denise Rich, Chuck Pfeifer,
Doug Dewitt , Jay McInerney, Geraldo Rivera, Ben Stiller, Max Robbins
of TV GUIDE, Michael Lewittes of Star magazine,
Joe Steuer, Brooklyn magazine. Maer Roshan,
Vanity Fair’s George Wayne, Frank DiGiacomo
from the Observer, George Rush of the News,
Lloyd Grove also of the News hobnobbed before
disappearing upstairs with the Post's Editor In Chief Col
Allen for an hour long confab.
In a fitting prelude to the midnight cake presentation, Anthony
Haden-Guest, made a brave foray into the youthful realm of
table-top dancing. No Paris Hilton, he treated us
anyway to an avant-garde performance somewhere between Michael
Jackson and Michael Flatley, with an airborne
finale that would have left Buster Keaton blushing
with pride.
Moments later, the flesh-and-feathers dancers straight out of Moulin
Rouge began their sinuous descent from the holding area, presenting
the birthday boy with a sparkling cake, and enveloping him in their
plumage (and flesh).
Debra Scott's (Buzz Bags) VIP goodie bags for the
birthday boy’s guests: A round trip ticket on Delta's Song airlines
to any where in North America; dinner for two at Cafe Gray; a bottle
of Remy Red; a one-year comp membership to David Barton's
new gym; a $750 Royal Safari gift certificate, and numerous other
tokens of journalistic affection.
— Prendergast |
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