Nancy Davidoff Kelton's Blog, page 9

June Stuff ‘n Love ‘n Eloise

I had a paint job. Not me, my home office/daughter’s onetime bedroom.  Walls before: either very pale yellow or very, very off white. It’s been a while.  Walls now: soothing grey.  My dental issues: a 5-session procedure.  The root canal guy only hurt my wallet. Tooth man #2 hurt my wallet more.  His office is a block from Bloomingdales.  I bought a sofa for my soothing gray room.My mental issues:  the same.I am invited to give a workshop/Finding Mr. Rightstein talk at a favorite place, The Strand Bookstore, August 23 at 7 pm.  (Details when the Strand puts it on its website)    Ask the Rebbetzin—Alana, my erstwhile student and a terrific writer, is a mother, a wife of a rabbi, and my friend.  I just submitted a question about a work matter to her ‘Ask the Rebbetzin’ column in The Forward.  My students teach me tons.My favorite pen pal’s recent signed drawing is on my fridge along with his other signed drawings, and with photos of him and his little sister.  Great thing about working at home: I get to look at them.   Bad thing about working at home: I open the fridge a lot.Hunter Symposium-I spoke on the memoir panel with Sydney Offit, Daphne Merkin, Patricia Volk and Malachy McCourt.  Loved all the panels and speakers.  I met Writing Center Director, Lewis Frumkes, when he moderated an ASJA humor panel. I was an attendee. During the Q & A, I asked why his panel was all male. “We’re funny, too,” I said.  ( I really said ‘too’ as in ‘also,’ but I was in my 20s.) The following year, I was a humor panelist. I've been on Lewis’s humor and other panels ever since.  At Hunter last week, he asked if I noticed the number of women speaking.  You betcha! Yesterday at the New-York Historical Society Press Event for the Eloise exhibit, (June 30-October 9), Hilary Knight spoke.His original 1956 Eloise portrait vanished in 1960, a headline event, until 1962 when it was recovered.  Knight stored it in his closet for 55 years.  It is now in public view for the first time in decades. The painting at the top (which my tech wiz cannot figure out how place here) was done by Mr. Knight’s mother, one of the first American women to study in Japan.  It was his inspiration for Eloise.  As the irrepressible resident of the Plaza’s top floor says, "Charge it please. Thank you very much."   

Pride

-The 48th Pride Parade-Sunday down Fifth Avenue a half a block from my apartment -I’ve seen all but a few-My friend, Judy, and I used to watch after we put our daughters on the camp bus-Jonathan and I went out yesterday when we heard the helicopters-Mayor DeBlasio at 1:00-Pride-SupportPlanned Parenthood-Spirit-Cheer-GUNS HAVE MORE RIGHTS THAN MY VAGINA was among my favorite signs-MEAN PEOPLE SUCK was another-My  biker guy was my favorite onlooker-Our bank, Chase, was among the last floats-At almost 8:30, the parade ended. Jack Daniels was the last float.-Pride, Cheer, Support, Spirit, Love 'n Stuff, Nancy

Fan Mail from Prison

The other day, I got a letter from a man in prison.  A fan letter about my book, Writing From Personal Experience. The prisoner—I’ll call him James--came upon it in the prison library as he was going through the book shelves, “trying to find inspiration” he told me for his next writing project.  Writing From Personal Experience fell on his toe.  ‘Kismet,’ he said.James wrote me on his 30th birthday.  He’s been in prison since age 20.  He didn’t tell me why he was there. He came from a good family, lived a good life until heroin addiction and the loss of his first love sent him down a “dark, misguided path.”His letter is single-spaced, one entire page, filled with kind words about how my book helped him find the words, get to his truths.  He said he heard me telling him that he was ‘onto something’ and to ‘dig deeper.’ James mentioned he quit smoking at age 27, managed not to relapse, and shared more about his pain, anxiety, joy in beginning to get his story out, and how important writing has become.I’m not sure how involved I will be in James’ story and what the future holds for him or for me as his guide. At the moment, I am truly touched that a man in prison reached out, that I have something to do with guiding him to his words and truths on paper, that Writing From Personal Experience fell on his toe.Prison or no prison who among us doesn’t feel locked up?

From Fade in to FEUD

What fun to see Feud.  What fun to see the credits and the name, Michael Zam.  My stepdaughter, age 28, a huge Feud fan, got excited when I told her I know Michael, the co-creator, producer, and writer of the 8-part series about the Bette Davis/ Joan Crawford rivalry. Years ago, when he was the NYU SPS writing program director and my boss, we discussed writing, teaching, movies, plays, books, and more.  Over lunch recently, he told me about the making of Feud. It took more than 10 years from the time his friend, Jaffe Cohen suggested they work together.“I love collaborating,” Michael said, mentioning George S. Kaufman as one of his writing heroes.Michael and Jaffe agreed that the actresses’ ‘total rivalry’ was great material. He and Jaffe did research, came up with stories and how to tell them.  Michael knows movies.  Has always known and loved movies.  Watching old ones, as part of the research, was a blast. When he and Jaffe weren’t together, they’d Skype.Feud originated as a script. They turned it into a series which Ryan Murphy pitched to FX.  Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon were interested from the start, the latter admitting she was “kinda scared” to play Bette Davis. Michael feels passionate about whatever he is working on. Of course, he got under the skin of both Davis and Crawford. “You have to be. You have to feel what your characters are feeling.”  We talked about how things haven’t much changed in Hollywood, how hard it still is for women over 40. We discussed Judy Davis' wonderful performance as Hedda Hopper.  And all those hats!Michael is the first writer in his family.  When he begins a project, he has a word in mind—one word—that captures what the story is about. For Feud, it was competition. He still teaches, still tells his students not to just write what they know, but also to write what they love. Our conversation turned to favorite authors. Like me, Michael is a huge Philip Roth fan.  We got into favorite movies.  His?  Jules and Jim.Talking to Michael was a treat in his NYU office years ago and a treat now.What are your favorite movies? Then? Now?    Let's start a dialogue in the comment section below._________________________________________________________________________________________p.s.My June 17th New School One-Day Writing Workshop:  Personal Nonfiction (10:00am to 3:00pm) is great fun.  Lots of writing exercises, tips and take-home advice/assignments.Class Number  NWRW 0222Register for the course online at : newschool.edu/ce/classes   or call (212) 229-5620

Shifting Gears

It’s not that I don’t love NYC and my work, but returning to both was hard after 9 days in CA with my family.  My book talk at their library--my daughter sitting among 3 Buffalo friends, Barbara, Charlotte, and Inez, also CA residents--touched me.  Inez, my first best friend, and I had a play date one afternoon, giggled like we did at age 6, and sang our “Side by Side” duet with the choreographed routine the way we did at our charity carnival at age 10.Family moments: taking my daughter to dinner, taking in my grandchildren’s adorableness and changes, hanging out at the playground, in the pool, in their rooms, doing the duet with my grandson, and taking him for a whole-day outing were heaven.I'm back at work, engaged in new writing projects. My spring classes ended.  Many current students renewed their vows with me for fall. Last Saturday, I gave a workshop at the American Society of Journalists and Authors Conference after spending time preparing tip sheets and my talk. And getting nervous.  I got un-nervous once I began.  It went well. Other talks and panels inspired me.Last week, the florist emailed my husband several reminders about what he sent his mother last Mother’s Day and if he wished to order the same. It’s his first Mother’s Day without his mother. It’s my 17th without mine.  I have been thinking about her, my mother-in-law, who they were, and all they gave me.Mostly, I’ve been thinking about my daughter and what a wonderful mother she is.  My daughter.  A mother of 2.My mother used to say that I used to say, “I can’t believe it.”  About Everything.  I still can’t.  No two days, no two celebrations are the same. The shifts and changes give me pause.  Move me.  Move me along. It goes so fast.My father used to say, “Family is everything.”Yes! Everything!I imagine his delight playing with his great grandchildren and watching his granddaughter sing and read to them, hugging and loving them with all her heart.Happy Mother’s Day, Everyone! Happy Family Day.I still can’t believe it, Mom!  I can’t.

People . . . People Who Make Music

At her concert Saturday night at  Barclays Center, Barbra Streisand had Anthony Newley singingWho Can I Turn Toup on a screen.  She sang with him. The duet moved us, got inside.At home, Jonathan and I watched the Streisand-Newley duet on YouTube, then Newly singing it alone in costume on Ed Sullivan (Watch it!). After, I sat down at the piano and played the song.In college, we had a musical event called STUNT NIGHT.  Each class performed. I was the  freshman pianist.  My classmate, Susan Kuhner, the freshman director, and I rewrote the lyrics toWho Can I Turn To.ACleveland Plain Dealerreporter came to the Western Reserve (now Case Western Reserve) campus and wrote an article about us. Jonathan found it.There I am in 1965 at the piano.Thank you, Susan Kuhner.Thank you Barbra Streisand, Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse.  You make my heart sing.

Two Judges Pick a Winner

Two Judges Pick a WinnerTwo judges judgedI went out westI love your entriesAll are ‘The Best.’I’m glad I wasn’tThe decider hereI couldn’t have done itOh my!  Oh dear!After much time withTheir heads togetherJudge 1 and Judge 2Picked Carol Weber.Thank you for enteringAnd for reading my postsTo contestants and readersCheers, love, and toasts!XXXNancy

Eatsa Contest for You

Last Tuesday, the first day of Passover, my husband and I had to work on the computer in his mid-town office.  A picture of his grandfather, whom he adored, and another of his parents in their eighties, smiling with their arms wrapped around each other, were on one wall.  I could feel their love.I thought about my parents.  About my family now.When we finished work, Jonathan and I went to Easta, a new automated restaurant.  It looks like the automats—the Horn and Hardarts—I went to on my first New York visits. And like something out of Woody Allen’s movie,Sleeper.We ordered bento boxes at an iPad kiosk. Jonathan’s name appeared on a board above a wall of numbered glass cubbies. A 15 appeared next to his name. A vending machine dispensed our freshly-prepared quinoa bowls in cubbie15. Hidden behind the wall was a kitchen staff we never saw.Afterwards, on my walk downtown to teach, I passed a candy store with Easter baskets in the window thought about the Easter egg hunt at The Buffalo Zoo I went to at age 6 with my father.  We knew the man in charge of the concession stand who had hidden the eggs. Guess who took home a chocolate bunny?I thought, too, about past seders. About the one at Aunt Yetta’s when I was 8.  My mother’s absence loomed large.  After my sister and cousins asked three of the four questions, Mom called from ‘the nervous hospital’ and spoke only to my father.  When he got off, he was crying. We didn’t get to my question.My favorite seder with lots of laughs and off-key singing was nine years ago, months after I met Jonathan. We made it together, had our grown children, who met for the first time. Easy. Fun. Funny.  Everyone got along great. When they left, I discussed Our Future.Last Tuesday afternoon, I had my New School class write about a memorable holiday, any holiday: Passover, Easter, Christmas, Chanukah, New Year’s, or any other. From childhood. From anytime.Your turn now:  A ContestIn 50 words or less (do not exceed 50), write about a memorable holiday from anytime in your life. It can be surprising, happy, sad, a mix, whatever.The deadline is: Monday, May 1.Two other people will judge.  I will send the winner a prize and post his or her name here May 4.

Latin History for Morons

[image error]As longtime John Leguizamo fans, as soon as we read aboutLatin History for Morons, my husband, Jonathan, and I rushed to the Public Theater and bought tickets.  We saw  the show the other night.We loved it. We love him.   Why? Let me count some ways:*His performing/writing gifts, humor, heart, passion, honesty, intelligence, anger, observations, warmth, sexy dancing, sexy face, male and female characterizations, going from one to the other seamlessly, knowledge of history, eagerness to learn and share, and His Presence.Woody Allen says 80% of life is showing up. Leguizamo majored in showing up.In the lobby after the show, I bought his book,Pimps, Hos, Playa Hatas, and All the Rest of My Hollywood Friends. I assumed the cute, young guy selling it worked for the Public Theater.  No.  He’s John’s assistant,  David.  Jonathan and I didn’t plan on staying to get our book signed, but cute, young David is also personable and smart.   We talked with him as we waited in line about writing, performing, my New School classes, and my wanting John to play a part—maybe several parts--in the adaptation ofFinding Mr. Rightstein.Then…as John Leguizamo and I exchanged books, he schmoozed with us like he had all the time in the world, as he had with the people in line before us, I told him the same thing.  He’d be great as Mr. Rightstein, some of the Wrongstein men, and perhaps a few of the women.*There are many other reasons I think he’s great, but I’m keeping my blog posts short.

Dear Evan Hansen

Dear Evan Hansen,I saw you the other night. You do what I believe the theater should do.  You grabbed me, choked me up, and made me feel and think. No schmaltz.  No pretense. No special effects.It was you.  You, your divorced mother raising you by herself and trying to cope, and every other character are inside me.  You are us.  And we are you.I tip my hat to Steven Levenson, Benj Pasek, Justin Paul, and Michael Greif and to everyone in the cast.And Oh….Dear Ben Platt: your Evan is a Wow! I thought of little Patty Duke as Helen Keller walking out onto that dark stage. In 1959, I was swept away at a Saturday matinee with my father.  The other night I was swept away by you.Dear Evan Hansen/Dear Ben Platt: Don’t let this letter get into Connor Murphy’s or anyone else’s hands.You tap into our discomfort and loneliness.   You resonate.  Inspire.Thank you for your you!