In our interview, the theater geek in me asked Amos why she still did quirky covers of rock songs, but was no longer playing older pop standards and showtunes, which had been a staple of her act since she was a child.

She took the question seriously, and promised that she would play some Gershwin or Cole Porter at the Palace Theater. In the parking lot, I gently reminded her of the promise.

She played no Gershwin or Porter that night.

That memory came back to me when I read the reviews of Tori Amos’ new album, Night of Hunters, which came out last week. It’s being called a concept album and a “21st century song cycle,” which isn’t far afield from theater music. Night of Hunters was released by the classical label Deutsche Grammophon, which means Tori Amos is labelmates with George Gershwin, Philip Glass, Kurt Weill and other theatrical composers.

A commenter on the album’s iTunes page laments, “This sounds like a musical. I have loved Tori 20 years and I have NEVER been disappointed until now.”

It’s me and Marvin Hamlisch!
He was at the Shubert theater back in the ’90s for one of his patter-filled “Evening With…” piano concerts in which he discusses his long and varied career. At the after-party in the Shubert mezzanine, I was briefly invited to shake Hamlisch’s hand, during which I uttered incredulously, “I’m just awestruck to meet someone who accompanied Groucho Marx.”

Hamlisch was the pianist for Groucho’s concerts in Ames, Iowa and at New York’s Carnegie Hall. The shows were recorded and released as the An Evening With Groucho album.

Marvin Hamlisch grinned ear to ear at my admission, and proceeded to regale me with anecdote after anecdote about his time with Groucho. He had to be dragged away by Shubert administrators to do the obligatory handshakes with the bank presidents and others who’d co-sponsored his concert. As soon as he’d acknowledged the bigwigs, he’d spin back ’round to me and continue, “…and then Groucho said to me..”

I’ve since seen Hamlisch play outdoors with the New Haven Symphony orchestra. I’ve seen him conduct Pops concerts. I saw one of the final performances of the musical version of Sweet Smell of Success on which he collaborated with John Guare. I saw a wild low-rent tour of Hamlisch’s underrated musicalization of Goodbye Girl, which starred Eddie Mekka (Carmine from Laverne & Shirley).

I just found a paperback copy of Rex Reed’s 1977 essay collection Valentines & Vitriol for free at New Haven Reads, and was enjoying the Hamlisch profile, in which the composer is justifiably defensive about how some of his most famous stage and movie scores were perceived. He says that with A Chorus Line he deliberately downplayed some tunes he could have easily turned into showstopping hits so that the ensemble-build show could build dramatically in a more democratic manner. He’s also aggrieved by suggestions that he simply ripped off Scott Joplin for his Oscar-winning The Sting score, noting that he’d always given Joplin full credit for the tunes, that Hamlisch didn’t take “arranger” royalties which he easily could’ve, and that it’s the arranger, not necessarily the original composer, of movie soundtracks that gets nominated for Oscars.

Marvin Hamlisch deserves a lot more attention and respect for what he’s contributed to theater and film history. Starting with that he’s real nice to Groucho fans.

It’s a mid-1990s me (on the left) standing in awe of my one of my theater idols, Lewis Stadlen Jr. (aka Groucho, Dr. Pangloss, Senex, Nathan Detroit, Max Bialystock, Mickey Fox…)

The photo was taken at the Shubert in New Haven at the reception following opening night of the first national tour of Laughter on the 23rd Floor, in which the great Stadlen recreated his Broadway role of Milt. He later directed a different tour of the same Neil Simon show starring Ernie Sabella.

Stadlen accepted my fawning gracefully, including deflecting a fantastic faux pas I made when I started randomly raving about an actress whom I was a big fan of at the time. He listened and listened, then quietly mentioned that he’d lived with the woman for seven years. (I’d had no idea. Some odds.)

We had lunch while he was in town, wandered the streets of New Haven together a bit. I also ran into Stadlen unexpectedly in the parking lot outside the old New Haven Advocate offices at 1 Long Wharf Drive. He was staying at the Residence Inn next door and was taking his dog for a walk.

I’ve had several opportunities to interview him since, but to my knowledge he hasn’t toured through Connecticut since the first tour of The Producers nearly a decade ago.

This is me with Roddy McDowall. As if you need to be told, I’m the dumpy guy on the right. McDowall was effortlessly dapper and charming, despite having just caught a scoundrel onstage in the national tour of Dial M for Murder which played New Haven’s Shubert in 1994. McDowall played Inspector Hubbard in the Frederick Knott thriller.

What are we talking about? Noel Coward and Planet of the Apes, naturally. Oh, and Night Gallery. This is just four years before Roddy McDowall’s death from lung cancer. He’s 66 here—really, doesn’t he look great?

This photo (taken by former Shubert press flack Morton Langbord) is also notable for showing the back of the blonde head of the ever-stylish Elizabeth Curren, the famed New Haven Register society reporter who passed away last month. I’ve eulogized Ms. Curren in the June 2 issue of the New Haven Advocate (here) and at my site www.scribblers.us (here).

That would be me, on the right, in the ska-kid black & white checked jacket, next to jolly Frank Wildhorn, at the the Shubert Theater in New Haven around 15 years ago. I’m guessing it was during the pre-Broadway shakedown of his Jekyll & Hyde musical, but Wildhorn would resurface at the Shubert frequently —with the pre-Broadway rehearsals of The Civil War, with the first national tour of The Scarlet Pimpernel, for Linda Eder concerts…
Wildhorn’s back on Broadway right now with Wonderland.