A love fest occurred Monday night in warm celebration of performer, mentor, friend, and mother
Julie Wilson (1924-2015). The Omaha, Nebraska native got her first break as a winner of Mickey
Rooney’s radio program “Hollywood Showcase.” The prize: a two-week engagement at the
Mocambo. Among other iconic nightclubs, “the queen of cabaret” headlined The Oak Room, Copacabana, Latin Quarter, and The Persian Room. La Maisonette at St. Regis Hotel in New York, newly renovated, has regained its former name evoking memories of her long time base.
Known for inhabiting a song, for penetrating without overstating lyrics, the lithe vocalist, swathed in sequins and marabou, signature gardenia pined to tight chignon, epitomized an era of glamour and sophistication alas, long gone. Magnetism, naughtiness and sensuality seem to have perished with her.
Julie was always authentic. “As patrons linger in the afterglow of her closing number, she returns to her dressing room, strips off her gown… and transforms herself into a shapeless figure in raincoat, babushka and tattered running shoes. Then, hoisting a 20-pound tote bag onto her bone-thin frame, she starts for the Port Authority and the 2 a.m. bus back to her house in Jersey City…” Deborah Grace The New York Times, 1992
The thespian shone repeatedly on Broadway garnering multiple Tony nominations and acted in several films before deciding she didn’t want her life ruled by Hollywood. Julie Wilson would not have her life run by anyone. She was thrice married. With third husband, actor/producer Michael McAloney, Julie created a longed for family. They had two sons, actor Holt, who hosts tonight’s event and the deceased Michael, Jr. When the marriage failed, breadwinner Julie sent the boys to live with her parents. “It never really worked for me, marriage I mean,” she shrugged. “But, so what? Here’s to life and here’s to hope. And here’s to you and here’s to me,” she laughed. (The Hamilton Spectator, Toronto, Canada)
Holt McCallany
In Holt and Michael’s teen years, she gave up her successful career to become a full time mother. When Julie’s own mother suffered a paralyzing stroke, she enrolled in nursing school to learn to care for her. Only when her parents passed and her sons were grown did the performer return to once again take her rightful place in cabaret firmament. Her voice was huskier, but she could still get into the sequin dresses and mine a lyric to the depth of its creation.
Christopher Denny and Karen Mason; Craig Rubano
After a welcome by Holt McCallany, Karen Mason opens with “Don’t Ask a Lady” (Cy Coleman/Carolyn Leigh). A little hip, a little shoulder tilt, a little rhythmic knee personifies subtle flirt. “Julie was a mentor, a beautiful, compassionate human being and the sauciest woman I’ve ever met,” Mason tells us. “Before I had the honor of knowing Julie as a friend, there were the six songbooks she recorded…” begins Craig Rubano. “Last Night When We Were Young” (EY Harburg/Harold Arlen) is like the slow unfurling of a velvet ribbon. The room feels-embraced.
Karen Akers; Sue Matsuki
“Julie loved this song because it told young people there’s solace to be found…” Karen Akers shares tearing up. “This Funny World” (Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart) emerges tender, wise, and wistful, ending eyes closed. Sue Matsuki offers “Miss Otis Regrets” (Cole Porter) with a dark, droll ending bequeathed to her by Julie herself. Each verse gains rhythm until the song grows swingy. Pauses are effective.
“I met Julie 50 years ago when I was hired to play for The Gershwin Years. Entering the first rehearsal, I found her standing on her head!” recalls Steve Ross. Cole Porter’s “Cest Manigfique,” “You Don’t Know Paris,” and “I Love Paris” (lovely arrangements) bring back Julie’s era of style. Ross carries the banner with skill and pride.
Steve Ross; Debbie Damp
Long time intimate friend and assistant, Debbie Damp, comes out of vocal retirement to salute a woman she dearly loved. “Julie was magical. We had a special connection I called divine appointment and she called kismet….She’s here…” A deeply felt rendition of “I’ll Be Seeing You” (Sammy Fain/Irving Kahal) sighs its way into the club touching everyone. Silence is potent. Cheers sincere.
Steve Brinberg remembers a New Year’s Eve when he’d just lost his parents. “She opened her coat and wrapped herself around me,” he said. “You’ll always have me,” Julie told him. Tony Hatch’s “Downtown” is sung almost completely encased in Julie’s red marabou. Emphasis is familiar. Julie would’ve smiled.
Changing a few lyrics to suit the occasion, Marilyn Maye sings, “The Song is You” (Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein II). She looks towards the heavens, poignantly performing for a treasured friend. “I love you, Julie.”
Steve Brinberg; Marilyn Maye
The honoree’s son, Holt McCallany, introduces a rough cut of the documentary he’s made about his mom. We’ve been asked not to write about the film, but even in raw form, it’s marvelous. He then performs “I Thought About You” (Jimmy Van Heusen/Johnny Mercer) with confidential feeling. It’s the last song Julie Wilson sang at her 90th Birthday Party in Paris, France. Christopher Denny’s sensitive piano and Nabate Ailes on mellow trumpet carry collective appreciation. Much of the audience has Julie stories of support, generosity, grace, and humor. She was emphatically one of a kind.
Julie Wilson and Mark Hummel (Photos by Debbie Damp)
Director Barry Kleinbort: “I loved Julie Wilson because she was the most down to earth performer I ever met. When Julie was in her late 70s, I went to see her perform at a tacky club called Billy’s Gay 90’s on
the east side. After the show she said to me, “Oh no, what are you doing here? You’ve seen me a million times.” I replied, “There’s so much to learn.” And she said to me, “Yes, I know, I still have SO much to learn.” She was one of the most honest, truthful and real performers of the last century and an incomparable communicator. A privilege to know and admire.”
Julie Wilson (Photo by Debbie Damp)
“An extraordinary light has gone out last night, the irreplaceable, one and only Julie Wilson – as great an artist, friend and human being as I could ever hope, in my wildest dreams, to be privileged to know… Julie was a friend for more than 30 years and a joy to work with steadily for some 15 years, but more than that she was my second mother, one of my life’s greatest teachers and an example of humility, compassion, kindness and generosity which I never expect to see equaled.”
Written by Christopher Denny on the occasion of Julie Wilson’s 2015 death
Performance Photos by Matteo Pellegrinuzzi
But Beautiful – Happy 100th Birthday Julie Wilson
Host – Julie’s son, Holt McCallany
Director – Barry Kleinbort
Musical Director (Julie’s last) – Christopher Denny
