“Well, first of all, you have to understand that The Red Mill is a perfectly dreadful show,” Kitty Carlisle Hart said. “And Victor Herbert isn’t much better as a composer.”
The assembled students and professional cast members did not seem much discomfited at this news. I was the married lady from across the street who was going to be one of the chorus. The students wanted to call me Mrs. de Rochemont, but I insisted on Nina.
We were actually in production for a musical comedy with a true star at the helm. We would have sung “Three Blind Mice” for Kitty Carlisle Hart. Anything.
She was seated on a chair at the front edge of the stage in the old riding arena of the Abbey that was now the theater. She had on a dark brown cashmere sweater and a brown wraparound skirt that was falling open to show her legs. She had great legs. She undoubtedly had great legs back in 1933 in the original production of The Red Mill. Isn’t it curious how reams can be written about someone famous and no one mentions something quite obvious? Kitty probably got that first job because she had a nice face and a passable singing voice and great legs. Some producer saw her, and there she was. Off on a career. The 1930s were good for girls with legs. Tits were out at that time and didn’t come back until the war and Rita Hayworth.
And they really came back with Marilyn Monroe, who didn’t have exceptional legs. You probably think I’m awfully young to be knowing all these things but primero, I’m in the fashion and beauty business. Had been long before I met Graham and married him. And I’ve studied the stuff. Segundo, I’m not all that young. I’m a number of years older than my husband. A number I’d just as soon not discuss.
I was at The Red Mill rehearsals because I’m blonde. Someone must have said, “Get Nina de Rochemont for the chorus. The Red Mill takes place in Holland. Dutch. Blonde.” Get it? I can’t sing, but they probably won’t notice. Graham isn’t in this one. He said, “You’re a little preggers, but it doesn’t show much, and you should go have fun. I’ll keep an eye on Theo during rehearsals.”
I think they have a part for him in Tea and Sympathy, so I can take over the babysitting. And I’ll probably be showing by then.
Yes. Kitty was exactly the right type for her period, slender and willowy. You know fashion tends to follow the shape of a woman’s body as she matures. You didn’t know that? First “The Little Girl.” That was the 1920s. The no-bosom, no-waist, little straight legs look.
The next period is “The Teenage Body” shape. The 1930s. All that slope-shouldered slenderness. Everyone slumped forward so their tits wouldn’t show.
Then “The Mature Woman.” World War II was one of those periods. There was Rita and the rest of them: Betty Grable, Ann Sheridan, Hedy Lamarr, Lana Turner. I once asked my instructor at the Kounousky gym, who had come from Hollywood, if he’d ever seen a perfect body, and he said, “Yes. Lana Turner. For about two weeks in 1947.”
And then there was “The Very Mature Woman.” Marilyn and her copycats. Sophia Loren in Italy. The Italians are great at doing the very mature woman. Anna Magnani. There’s enough fashion education for you.
Kitty was one of the great exemplars of the 1930s, and she has sailed right on through, slim and supple and full of charm.
She went on, speaking of charm, actually, “This is an interesting show to perform, despite its weaknesses, because it depends greatly on the charm of the performers.
“You know, before the great old warhorse musicals like Oklahoma, Carousel, Guys and Dolls, no one expected a Broadway show to run any length of time. Six months was a lot. I believe Oklahoma was the first Broadway musical to run more than a year, and went on to run for many years. It was during the war, of course, and New York was packed with servicemen coming and going, so it was a great time for the theater. But even so, these were new kinds of shows. Oklahoma you can produce out in Keokuk, and it will be fine. Good story, good characters, great songs, fun costumes. A show like that is always a good show.
“But before shows like this, performers were expected to project a lot of personality. Remember, no microphones. A tinny pit band. Very simple lighting. When you came out of the wings, the glamour had to be you. And I guess if I’m here to teach you anything at all, it’s to figure out what your stage glamour is. Many successful artists have made it based on who they were, not what they could do.
“None of you will ever have heard of Gaby Delys. She was a French actress at the beginning of the last century. If I could go back in time, my only reason to go would be to see her perform. I can only imagine it.
“She was performing in Paris when J. M. Barrie saw her. He had written Peter Pan, which had a great success on the stage in London. He was enchanted with Gaby, and he wrote a musical for her just so she could come across the channel and work her magic on London audiences.
“She came to London and was in rehearsals when J. M. Barrie decided he would drop in at the theater and see how rehearsals were going. He slipped into the empty theater, took a seat, and he was appalled. Gaby was terrible. She saw him sitting in the theater and must have been able to see the expression on his face. She came downstage and leaned over the footlights and said, ‘Baree, Baree, Baree, I know, I know, I know. I can’t sing. I can’t dance. I can’t act. But it will be all right.’ And it was. The audience loved her. She must have just oozed with charm. And I think it has to do with loving the audience. If you love performing for them, I think they want to love you back.
“I always preferred musical theater to making motion pictures. I admire motion picture actors very much because they work without an audience and repeat short scenes out of sequence. There’s an added tension when you’re in front of an audience.
“Motion picture actors never have to deal with this scary world. There’s always another take. I always felt that I was better on stage because something kicks in. I have more adrenalin. Or perhaps I was just more flirtatious. Certainly I never had any great success in motion pictures.
“But I did in television. I think the television producers were smart to always have some sort of audience present in the studio. They really didn’t have to. But early television was live, and someone realized the performers would be more on edge and give more energetic performances with an audience present. But enough about me. Let’s talk about my show.”
Everyone laughed. Kitty certainly did have that fabled charm. She could have gone on talking all afternoon.
“Some of you have prepared songs and scenes already. Let’s start with ‘Every Day Is Ladies Day with Me.’ E. L . . . Mr. Losada . . . pardon me for being so informal, would you come up? I’ll play Gretchen, the love interest. You’re the Burgomaster who wants to marry me but finally isn’t going to.”
The new young actor who had just arrived from the United States with Cranston Muller, who created the festival, came up on the stage. He was of a good height. Handsome? Something beyond that. Very young, but definitely a leading man.
Kitty called out to the pianist, “Lester, take it from the very top. Intro music and all. E. L., you can sing off the score, of course.”
E. L. strode to the front, put his arm around the surprised Kitty’s waist, and looking occasionally at the sheet music in his other hand, started singing. Suddenly, he seemed to be at least 28. Much more mature. It was surprising. A sappy song but you felt he was actually interested in the woman he was holding. And that the words meant something to him. There was talent here.
Kitty worked, too. She responded to him, put her arms around him, but I noticed never turned completely in profile. E. L. worked in profile a lot, and he got a very good hand when he finished.
“Comments?” Kitty said.
A very young girl down front said, “It’s sort of like a boastful song, but he didn’t do it that way. It was more like you made him sing it.”
“That’s good,” Kitty said.
“You never really looked at him,” someone else said.
“I hate to work in profile on stage. I don’t think the audience ever really notices. Do they?” Kitty asked.
“Yes, yes, yes,” chorused back.
“Usually I make my partner look at me,” E. L. said. “I just didn’t want to manhandle you too much.”
“Because of my age or because I’m the coach?” Kitty said.
“Because you’re so beautiful,” E. L. said, bowing.
“You’re going to go far,” Kitty called after him as he left the stage.