Well, dear readers, ‘twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse or a gazelle for that matter. Yes, it’s the day of the eve of Christmas, although I’m still looking for the Christmas cheer. Yesterday, we got the anti-cheer news that my friend, the wonderful Rebecca Luker, had passed away from her struggles with ALS, a hideous and vile disease. Having learned about the disease when I directed the three big benefits at the Pasadena Playhouse, I knew there is really no surviving ALS at this point in time. And I sensed she was close to the end a couple of months ago, because I’d written Danny Burstein, her husband, and asked if he’d like to do a drop-in for the November Kritzerland, as it was going to benefit ALS. His response was a “no” – he was exhausted, having gotten almost no sleep for months and months. He was very sweet about it, but I could tell she was getting worse. I first met Becca, as she liked to be called, back in 1993 – I can’t remember who’d recommended her for Unsung Sondheim, but someone did, and I asked her sight or sound unseen because whoever recommended her raved and raved. She’d been in Phantom of the Opera on Broadway as Christine, so I knew she’d be fine, and boy was she. From then on, she became one of our stock company, appearing on many of my albums. And then we decided to do a solo album together and chose Cole Porter. Patrick Brady was her wonderful musical director and arranger, and our very own elmore did the orchestrations. It all came together very quickly and simply because Becca was such a pro, never a diva, and very willing to try anything.
In those early days, we would record the rhythm section first, then do the horn date, followed by the string date – three days in a row (later, we began recording the entire band in one session, which I preferred). We always had the singer come in on the rhythm date to do scratch vocals, just so said singer would be with the rhythm section and they could breathe together and get all the tempos correct, especially rubato sections. Then, on the fourth recording day we’d do the final vocals. I think Becca thought the rhythm date WAS her final vocals because she nailed every single song perfectly. When I told her we’d see her on Thursday, she laughed and I said there was so much great stuff that we probably wouldn’t have much of a day, time-wise.
When she came in on Thursday, she was a wreck – her marriage was falling apart quickly, and she was in tears for much of the session and we had to work around that. She’d be fine, then burst out crying. When Brent Barrett came in to do the duet, she was in the studio crying. I told him to take off his pants and go in there. He did, and she saw it and laughed so hard – she had a great laugh – and she was fine after that. Thank you, Brent. In the end, I don’t think I used a single thing from the final vocal date – her scratch vocals were simply perfect – that gorgeous, sweet, crystalline voice on those wonderful Porter songs. And if you want to know her personality, just look at that CD cover – it’s her to a “T”. I adored her – I saw her in The Sound of Music, and we supped between the matinee and evening, and I saw her in The Music Man, and she was her usual brilliant self. She was magical on stage and magical in the studio and magical in life. I used to run into her and Danny every so often on the upper West Side. And now she’s gone, way too soon – this really has been the most horrid year in so many ways. I’m sure she’ll be singing with the angels now – she had the voice of an angel, certainly. I hate having to write these kinds of notes, but she was something special, one-of-a-kind, and so write them I had to. Here we are in the studio – I have the feeling this is 1993 and Unsung Sondheim, since I have other photos in this same location with other singers on that album.
Yesterday was that kind of day. I got seven hours of sleep, got the news, felt sad, then we had a very brief drop by from Kay Cole, who was masked, gloved, with every inch of her clothed – not much skin showing at all. She got her CDs, and I gave her a copy of Simply. Then I did a few things on the computer, after which the dealer came by and picked up his CDs. Then a major miracle happened, so that was great news. Then I had three hot dogs with mustard and onions – calorie count was only about 525, so that was good. Later, I had some popcorn and some of the Darling Daughter’s cherry loaf, so I guess maybe I had 1000 calories all in, maybe a tiny bit more. I moseyed on over to the mail place and was surprised to find more than the one little package I knew was there – three other things. I came back home, and two of the three other things were screeners, which completely surprised me. One was Borat II, which you couldn’t pay me to watch, and the other was One Night in Miami, based on a play that originated in a 99-seat theater in LA in 2013. The third package had the replacement Blu-ray for Psycho with the correct mono track, so that only took Universal four months to get right. Then I finally sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched the first half of One Night in Miami, which begins with the following text: Inspired by true events. I’m so tired of that old canard, especially when the “inspired by” means a complete fiction, someone’s imaging what transpired in a hotel room between Malcolm X, singer Sam Cooke, Cassius Clay, and Jim Brown. As you might imagine, it’s a gab fest, even though they open it up for the first twenty minutes by showing you the lead up. The film has gotten raves, as has the director. For me, the direction is strictly by the numbers, and I have yet to be really engaged by it and am forty-five minutes in. I’ll finish it up today at some point. After that, I listened to all kinds of music – first, the second symphony of Ernst Krenek, an interesting composer, the CD is part of the Decca Entartete series. It’s quite an interesting symphony – no real tunes, but I liked its moodiness and dramatic flair quite a bit. I listened to the Japanese soundtrack to Shall We Dance, the 1996 film I love – I forgot how nice that soundtrack is, so I put it in iTunes. I listened to a couple of Martinu symphonies, just because I couldn’t remember anything about them, and we share a birthday – the first and second are quite nice. I listened to Jerry Goldsmith’s soundtrack to The Boys from Brazil, a really good score, with a bit of a Der Rosenkavalier-like waltz thrown in, which works really well. I also made some tuna pasta salad for today. And then it was time to write these here notes.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, which isn’t much, hopefully pick up some packages, and then I’m going to drop by a little four-person, distanced, outdoors get-together, which is why I made the tuna pasta salad. I think that will be nice, especially as I’m not so happy about missing the first Christmas Eve Do in thirty-two years. After that, I’ll come home and perhaps watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow is, of course, Christmas Day, and I’ll be spending it alone with no Darling Daughter visit, which also is upsetting, but I just won’t be in the mood to do anything but sit here like so much fish. On the weekend, I’ll just do some more preliminary work on what I hope will be a new book, and I’ll finish up clarifying project two and send that off again. And, of course, next week is the final week of 2020 and boy do we need light and sanity in 2021, and I’ll be praying for it daily. We will, of course, have our annual New Year’s Rockin’ Eve bash right here at haineshisway.com and this year I want everyone here to ring out this wretched year and ring in the hopefully positive New Year with great hope, light, and sanity.DD
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do whatever needs doing, hopefully pick up packages, and then attend a teeny-tiny outdoor, distanced gathering. After that, I’ll watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: How will you be spending your Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in this time of the pandemic? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, sad to have lost another wonderful singer and friend, who joins the other sadly gone singers from our little group – Michelle Nicastro, Dorothy Loudon, and Laurie Beechman. So long, farewell (as she sang in The Sound of Music) to Becca.