Andy Warhol...original 4-image-style self-portait to be sold @ auction! Quirky artist laughing in grave!

One of the most recognizable self-portraits by celebrated Pop Icon - Andy Warhol - was not inspired by vanity contrary to popular belief.

The distinctive four-part image of the quirky artist – somewhat reminiscent of a dreary mug shot taken on the fly at a local jailhouse after a late-night DUI (soon to fetch upwards of $20 million at auction) sprang to life in a round-about fashion.

In a bit of a switcheroo, the tables were turned on Warhol when a socialite agreed to “sit” for the phantom auteur - who reined over the notorious “Factory” in New York City in the heady 70's - provided he rustle up an original image of himself to grace her wall.

Although the former graphic artist was inclined to whip up portraits of the rich and famous in a particular style - in this instance case - there was a creative departure.

Instead of shooting a Polaroid first to capture his essential spirit (as he did with the jet set elite he captured on his eclectic canvasses), Warhol responded to a light bulb that went off in his head on this unique occasion.

The zany visionary artist dashed out the door with sunglasses firmly affixed on his snoz - attired in a ubiquitous raincoat similar to those worn by flashers - and plunked a few quarters into a dingy photo booth down the street in his artsy-fartsy neighborhood.

Once the quarters were plugged into the slot, he camped it up in front of the crude camera - and thus - drummed up a series of four images to use as the basis for the self-styled portrait.

His delighted patron, a woman by the name of Mrs. Barron, was so thrilled with the creation that it remained in her hands until she passed to spirit in 1999.

Guy - the art-lover's son - has now given the nod for the unique one-of-a-kind piece to be sold to the highest bidder at Christie’s next month at what is expected to be a sold-old event .

“It’s one-off,” confided Brett Gorvy, a co-head of the auction house’s post-war and contemporary art department.

“While he (Warhol) did individual panels of this image, this is the only one conceived as a four-part piece.”

In sum, the portrait(s) are essentially a glorified version of the photo-booth strip images, originally spit out of the vending machine for a paltry buck or two.

Personally, I prefer the way Warhol exalted the Campbell’s soup can!

Sheer genius!

http://www.thetattler.biz

Andy started in advertising & window display in NYC!

Blank City...documentary on NO WAVE directors provokes thought! Circa 1970's NYC!

On occasion, a film-goer saunters into a theatre - the lights go down - and they find themselves swept up into a thoroughly thought-provoking celluloid experience.

Such is the case with Blank City - a documentary on the "NO WAVE" film directors who roamed the artsy-fartsy climbs of the lower East-side of New York City - with 8mm cameras in greasy hand in the mid-to-late seventies at the height of the Big Apple's undisputed decline into total debauchery.

The motley crew of visionary artists (lured by cheap rents and squatter's rights) - featured in the well-crafted enlightening documentary - are only now being exalted (in part due to the deliberate efforts of the producers of Blank City who totally believed in this off-beat - but very real - gritty project).

Known to many as the "trangressives", these madcap filmmakers shook the sensibilities at a time when NYC was the hub of a hip culture where music, art, and fashion crossed-over in the lower East side of Manhattan.

This is how the producers describe their film:

"Uncovering New York’s underexposed filmmaking movements circa 1977 to 1987, this provocative documentary begins when New York City was ripe with cheap rent, cheap drugs, a summer hit by “Son of Sam,” and a 25-hour blackout. Captivated by the newly emerging downtown music scene, and inspired by Amos Poe’s 1977 punk documentary “Blank Generation,” two distinct groups of novice filmmakers emerged, hell-bent on capturing the volatile world around them."

And, at any cost!

"We had no money. So we stole our film stock and materials," one director joked in a candid interview.

One week, the young dynamic directors were in the mean streets shooting video - the next - screening their raw images at the St. Mark's Theatre for $2 a pop.

"Everyone had to pay. Especially, when wealthy patrons from uptown started to slip down into the bowery to catch our work when it became all the rage!"

The filmmakers recalled that it was a scary time in New York, too.

"You would be afraid to walk down the street at night for fear of being killed. There were so many empty lots, gutted-out lofts, and run-down tenement buildings."

At a time when the city was on the edge of bankruptcy, landlords had either abandoned their properties, or were inclined to offer up the premises for pittance to the struggling artists who dug in joyously in their inspiring haunts.

"We were itinerant Kings in broken-down castles," one auteur laughingly recalled.

In the scintillating documentary, a number of familiar faces parade across the screen - Deborah Harry - for instance.

The pop singer was a mainstay in the neighborhood during that time frame and often appeared in an experimental film or two.

Steve Buscemi (Fargo) also recalled that he starred in his first low-budget feature in these humble environs.

John Waters felt the movement was so important that he grabbed the opportunity to be interviewed onscreen to offer up commentary on the first wave of true Indie directors in the United States.

I used to reside on 2nd Street on the East Side in 1974 - and believe me - the filmmakers captured the essence of that remarkable era to a "t".

Readers may recall, that I once performed with a show-biz troupe known as the "Hot Peaches" - in an off-off-off Broadway production titled "The Magic Hype" - which was a spoof on the Andy Warhol superstars.

Post: 10/26/2008

http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2008/10/blogginginternet-opens-door-to-past.html

During my visit to NYC in those heady days, I struck up a friendship with an infamous Andy Warhol underground film icon by the name of Jackie Curtis.

Post:  11/24/2007

http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2007/11/jackie-curtiswarhol-star-on-edge.html

Jackie and I both played (and pursued our respective careers) in the same neighborhood where these early pioneers of independent film emerged.

"The key word in No Wave was "No"," noted film director Susan Seidelman (Desperately Seeking Susan).

"Anything that was anti-establishment," she recalled gleefully.

"The cultural scene was so bland at that time. That is why the movement sprang up. It was the start of punk, really," chimed in another.

The director for Blank City (Céline Danhier) stumbled on the treasure trove of film footage when she was doing research on a band that was featured in one of the legendary films crafted at the time (featuring the Ramones, I believe).

The documentary weaves an intriguing tale of the times by way of film clips, on-camera interviews, and old newsreels.

And, the plot is intriguing, to say the least.

For example, it is alleged that shortly after the city went bankrupt - real estate developers, city officials, and landlords - engaged in a conspiracy to "toss out" the artists so they could gentrify the lower east side.

In addition to chat about their creative endeavours, the filmmakers tend to wag their tongues on screen incessantly - too - about the illegal evictions and gross rights violations which took place in the aftermath of the 70's free-for-all.

Curiously, the documentary hints that the Reagan administration's failure to address the A.I.D.S. crisis was a deliberate one - designed to kill off all the artists (and revolutionaries) - rising up against the establishment and the status quo during that illustrious ground-breaking era.

The images are gritty, hard-hitting, and thought-provoking.

There are a handful of amusing moments, too.

Film Director Nick Zedd - for instance - noted that he starred in both the male and female lead roles in one scandalous titillating project.

"Vandals defaced the poster. But, I was glad. It got the reaction that I wanted," he laughed wickedly.

At a Q & A after the screening, the director noted that an archive of the films are currently being compiled at NYU.

"There is a definite need to preserve these important documents because they represent the emergence of independent film in this country," she concluded.

The filmmaker is currently seeking distribution for Blank City.

If it plays at a local revival house near you, do catch it!

http://www.thetattler.biz

Medical procedures...iffy at best! Just ask Andy Warhol!



While all of you chomp down on turkey on one of the biggest American holidays of the season, I will be checking into a local hospital for a medical procedure.

From what I understand, the operation is expected to be a snap!

Nonetheless, I can't help but conjuring up an image of Andy Warhol, as the hour approaches.

If you recall - the celebrated Pop Artist who made the soup can famous in the heady 60's - met an untimely death when a simple gall bladder operation went wrong.

Go figure!

Well, if I am inclined not to return to consciousness, it was nice knowing all of 'ya!

By the way, I'll be back to haunt you, too (God Willing).

Happy Thanksgiving!

http://www.thetattler.biz/

Andy Warhol..Liz Taylor portrait sells for 10.1 Million bucks!

Christie's auction house sold a rare portrait of screen siren "Elizabeth Taylor" for the staggering price tag of 10.1 million in jolly old England this past week.

The famous portrait - held in a private collection for the past twenty years - was flippantly crafted with tongue-in-cheek by manic genius Andy Warhol back in the sixties when La Liz was the first actress to command $1 million smackeroos for a role in a major studio production.

The ill-fated "Cleopatra" (which bombed big time) was overshadowed by the tempestuous affair Elizabeth and Richard (Burton) dove into with passionate abandon - in spite of one stickling problem - both were married to others!

The two magnetic star-crossed lovers lustily flaunted their scandalous affair in public, nonetheless, and - in the wake of a public outcry - Elizabeth was declared a homewrecker and denounced by the Roman Catholic Church.

"Silver Liz" is one of the finest (most recognizable) portraits to spring from Warhol's well of creativity - and consequently - brim with promise on the International Art Scene in a delightful ground-breaking era.

The bidder has chosen to remain anonymous.

The fabulous (vulgar) Burtons!

 Bad Hair day, Andy?

http://www.julianayrs.com/

San Francisco...MOMA "Focus on Artists" enlightens! Jan 16 - May 23rd...

Frank Stella inspired trends after sixties era!

San Francisco's MOMA celebrates its 75th Anniversary with an exciting exhibition titled:

Focus on Artists

The comprehensive collecion of pieces on display include 100 paintings, sculptures, and photographs (circa 1944 to 2006).

Curators have personalized each artist's contribution to the insightful show by hanging their indiviudal works in their own "intimate" gallery setting.

According to Gary Garrels (Senior curator of painting and sculpture) the eclectic exhibition puts the spotlight on a major shift in art being offered after the boisterous sixties era (which concentrated on more social and psychological themes).

In essence, there are two halves of the show, which complement each other admirably.

One body of work focuses on major American artists who helped nuture and impact the abstract expressionist movement (such as  Richard Serra, Frank Stella, Ellsworth Kelly).

A section on artists of International renown (unveiled this weekend) consists of the highly-individual artistic styles of Jeff Wall, Warhol, Diane Arbus, Sigmar Polke and others.

According to Garrels, museum staff are thrilled with this turning point at the SFMOMA.

"The two halves of the show will have their own internal argument that will, I hope, be clear and relevant to people. I think it's been a revelation for everybody here to see what depths we have to see all these works together and to realize this really is a world-class museum."

See for yourself!

San Francisco Museum of Art
151 Third Street
San Francisco, CA

Dates
January 16th - May 23rd

Exhibition Hours

Daily Viewing
(closed Wednesdays)

11 am - 5:45 pm
(Thursdays 8:45 pm)

Info:  www.sfmoma.org
         415.357.4000

Controversial works by Pop Icon Warhol

Canadian Artist Jeff Wall featured

http://www.julianayrs.com

Michael Jackson...OPUS gift idea for die-hard fans! Stunning comprehensive tome...

In the wake of Michael Jackson's death there have been many Michael Jackson tributes -  including a handful in book form chronicling the late pop icon's life & times in the glare of the spotlight since he first sauntered onstage a naive young performer with the Jackson 5 decades ago

Just recently, a thick tome aptly titled  - "The Official Michael Jackson Opus" - has hit the shelves at a handful of upscale bookstores around the country.

The book carries some weight - 38 pounds of it  in fact - and is comprised of 404 pages of thrilling publicity stills sure to appeal to the most discerning die-hard Jackson fan.

According to the publishers, eighty-percent of the images have never been released before and or rarely seen the light of day.

The slick eye-catching publication is priced at a whopping $249.00.

Photo editor Deborah Wald pronounced Opus as a loving tribute to Jackson's  legacy and work.

Opus highlights include four  images of the superstar musician - copies of actual hand-painted portraits by artist Nate Giorgio - dashed off two weeks prior to Michael's death.

One chapter is dedicated to Michael's fashion sense and throws a spotlight on his innate sense of style which was world-renowned.

Producer Ken Kragen also contributed a copy of an original lyric sheet from "We Are the World to be included  in the book (the original was signed by all the artists at the recording session on that auspicious occasion).

Apparently, the hit single was inspired by Jane Goodall (primatolgist) who urged that Michael write a song when he expressed an  interest to "heal the world" on the occasion of her visit to Neverland ranch.

To historians and loving fans - a bevy of poignant shots of Michael taken during the course of his storied long-and-winding career - are probably of the most interest.

One photo captures an 11-year old Jackson signing an autograph in front of the Rolling Stones office in 1971 complete with Afro and dressed in Jackson 5 stage get-up.

A great Christmas gift idea for the loved one or friend in your life who had just about everything, 'til now.

http://www.julianayrs.com

Warhol..Jock polaroid shots @ Danziger projects in New York! A brief encounter! Wayne Gretzky & Boxer Ali shot...

Andy Warhol was oft quoted for one astute observation.

"Everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes," he smugly announced to a disbelieving posse of media hounds way back when in the heady days of his creative heyday.

Today, the thought resonates in every fibre of the being - in an era where global news networks and a glut of reality-TV shows - are now a testament to the man's insight, vision, and genius.

Golly, with one simple soupcan, Warhol - the manic multi-media artist with the shock of platinum hair - managed to utter up a mind-bending (enlightening) message about the vulgarity of consumerism in one fell swoop.

With his penetrating all-seeing lens, the die-hard New Yorker (zany founder of the infamous film Factory in mid-Manhattan) captured images on celluloid that would touch, disturb, and inspire generations to come.

Now, a series of polaroids Warhol was commissioned to photograph in the late seventies and early eighties for an avid collector Richard Weisman (a good friend) are on exhibit at the Danziger Projects in New York.

The stills of the well-known athletes at the top of their game became known as the "Sport Series".

During the course of the session, Warhol took three shots, as he was interacting with his subject.

All three captures have been artfully included in the exhibit with the ultimate aim of shedding some insightful light on the Pop Artist's thought-provoking creative process.

After-the-fact - each image was silkscreened to canvas - and subseqeuntly became the basis for a full-fledged painting.

The tiny images of the athletes - Wayne Gretzky, Mohammed Ali, O.J. Simpson, to name a few - are described as "pure" in nature by excited art-lovers who have caught the show in recent days.

No mean feat, when you can consider that each subject was at the height of their powers, when they granted audience to the notorious madcap artist

To accomplish that end, Warhol facilitated a Big Shot camera in a studio setting without alot of high tech equipment or gimmicky lighting (which would have been the kiss of death in my estimation).

According to the curator at the Danziger, in the final analysis, Warhol's polaroids are both a celebration of the greatness of the athletes and an intriguing look at the cleverness of the facade of Warhol so often used to disguise the intelligence and innovation of his work.

Our paths crossed briefly out-of-the-blue one day, shortly after I alighted in New York, to pursue an acting career on stage.

One day I strolled into the 10th Circle (a local watering hole) in the West Village.

On the heels of plunking myself down, and ordering up a brewskie, I swung around on my stool to get a gander at the patrons chug-a-lugging around me.

Suddenly, I caught sight of Warhol chatting up European actor - Helmut Berger - who was working steadily in films at the time.

Behind dark glasses the fey Warhol peered my way - and I his.

Then, we both sauntered on our merry way!

No chemistry, I guess.

Well, I confess!

Helmut was pretty masculine (I was just pretty).

Curiously, I ended up being cast in an off-off-Broadway show titled "The Magic Hype", which was a spoof on the Warhol film characters (with a big focus on Holly Woodlawn and Candy Darling).

The wild musical comedy - performed by the "Hot Peaches" troupe - was primarily written and directed by founder "Jimmy Camicia".

During the run of the show, Warhol star - Jackie Curtis - popped in to catch the zany fly-by-your-panties production.

In contrast to Andy Darling, Jackie and I hit it off famously. 

In fact, at a New Year's Celebration later that year, we orchestrated a tea-for-two number that brought down the house.

In a post last year, I penned my memoires of Ms. Curtis and the auspicious event.

Post:  11/28/07

http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2007/11/jackie-curtiswarhol-star-on-edge.html

Once I left the "Big Apple", I lost touch with Jimmy Camicia, though.

But, want to hear something astounding?

A few months ago Jimmy was cruising the Internet when he unexpectedly stumbled on my blog & the post published on Jackie.

Needless to say, Jimmy  zipped off an e-mail to catch up, and we've been in touch since.

In fact, the director with the wicked wit and deep creative well, just informed me that he's been tooling around with his "Hot Peaches" website.

OMG!

Jimmy actually dragged out an old publicity still I'm featured in which captured moi in a slinky silver sheath-of-a-dress (if you can actually call it that!), silk stockings, wild "do", and a smattering of make-up.

Darn it!

Just knew that the Hot Peaches stint in NYC would come back to haunt me!

Oh well, I have a good sense of humor.

Gobble it up, why don't you?

Info:  http://www.hotpeachesnyc.com

By the way, Happy Turkey Day!

Warhol at the creative helm!

Jackie six feet under sans panties!

http://www.julianarys.com

Out of the Closet...WeHo charity dazzles passers-by with eye-catching window displays! (No.1)

Imaginative one-of-a-kind window displays at thrift store

http://www.julianayrs.com

Fame...blogger-style! Fish-bowl existence, with gawkers galore!

Well, things are heating up at blogspot, that's for sure!

When I first started to "post" a few months ago at a Fox Website (OTL) reality show, it was basically on a whim. Each day, I would reflect on my thoughts, or pen a topical post on a newsworthy event.

The show folded at the end of August last year, so I moved on to blogspot, not expectin' much feedback.

Ah, but much better tools to toy with at the google site. And, a worldwide audience to cater to, if a blogger pines to expand horizons from a small fish pond to the great ocean beyond.

Well, in recent days, it appears to have panned out. You see, everywhere I go, people tend to recognize me.

For instance, I was in a restaurant last week and overheard one lad whisper to his effervescent pal,

"Do you know who that is?"

I turned to take a gander at the person they were kibitzing about - turned out to be moi! Ooops! After getting caught red-handed, the flustered duo tried to suppress their classic "egg-on-the-face" demeanor, as I turned back to sip on my piping-hot java.

Then, the other night as I was walking through a trendy Nightclub, the heads started turning one by one - not unlike a domino effect - as club-goers spied me picking my way through the packed high-energy house.

As I passed by a couple of twenty-something kids, I heard one of 'em gush,

"He looks like an 80's rock star."

"Yes, he does," his pal chimed in.

Yup, a handful of us have been famous for our golden locks - pop icon Rod Stewart, teen idol Peter Frampton, and yours truly! And, I intend to keep each lustrous strand, until father time tugs 'em out at the roots, I guess!

Natch, I was flattered by the compliment. I gobbled it up, in fact.

Heh, Dudes, B52's and shots on the house.

Now, I understand how celebrities feel in their new-found infamy; albeit, on a more miniscule scale.

Personally, I believe it's preferable to acquire fame over a duration of time, so you can sort-of settle in to the "spotlight" with the least intrusive upset.

Actually, for most of my adult life I have been fairly well-known, in varying degrees of red-hot celebrity.

For example, I often graced the pages of National ads when I modelled in my teens, and was lucky to garner a handful of press clips in the newspapers, when an art exhibition or two was unveiled at a prominent gallery at landmark stages of my long and winding career.

So, over time, I was able to acclimatize myself to the phenomenon of being in the public eye.

Actors tend to struggle for years in total oblivion, then BAM - with one plum role - they are suddenly thrust onto the world stage. On many a National talk show, astonished thespians swear up-and-down that no matter how prepared you think you are for the glare of the spotlight - when it hits, it can shell-shock 'ya - in many respects.

But, it's the bizarre behaviour of the ring-siders, that unsettle on occasion.

For instance, when I step into a cafe and a cashier spots me, their eyes go wide; then, they get all tongue-tied, might even turn beet red.

I pretend I'm clueless, snatch up my order, and head out the door with a smile.

Whew! Looney tunes, man!

Even counter staff at the local Library creep into a slow paralysis when they spy me heading their way at check out. When that dazed expression spreads wide across their faces, I have to seriously wonder, don't they realize how silly they appear?

Golly, if a star from the neighborhood popped in for a book loan, they'd probably poop their panties! And save em, for posterity! Yup, just catalogue 'em under "M" for memorabilia.

On occasion, when I sit down in Starbucks, a customer will subtly nudge a pal and whisper under his breath,

"Look, it's the blogger guy."

Well, I've been called worse!

Frankly, I'm surprised at how unsophisticated people truly are when they come into contact with "known entities"; especially in Los Angeles - where most folks ought to be jaded - 'ya know?

Funny thing, when I need to recognized - like at a bank, for instance - when I am cashing a check, they haven't a clue. But, when I would prefer anonymity - while tucking a dollar bill in the bikini of a lap dancer, or while I'm out of my gourd at a sports game - they're all eyes and ears!

I surmise the reason celebrities hang out together is because misery loves company. In a moment of celebrity crisis, they have each other to cling to, a warm body by their side to comfort 'em as they careen down dark alleys out of reach of the paparazzi and their searing penetrating lenses.

Two in a fishbowl - a tad cozier - wouldn't you agree?

I hazard a guess that now-a-days, I'll have to pay more attention to my dancing shoes; God forbid, should they be scuffed or down at the heels. And, spritz on fragrant deodorant daily, so the rumor mongers don't take jabs at me like they were inclined to with Keanu Reeves in his grunge days.

If I follow the golden rule - "always act like the person you want to impress is standing over your shoulder" - gossip mongers will be at a loss to conjure up gripes, don't you think?

Ah, fame. There are many ways to skin that cat.

Walter Winchell once said,

"The way to become famous fast is to throw a brick at someone who is famous"

Or a telephone, just ask Russel Crowe.

Sensory perception kicks in...

Studio 54...Fame! Debauchery! Drugs!

Years ago, I packed up a small suitcase and headed off to New York, to pursue the elusive dream of becoming a stage actor.



As I jetted my way to NYC, a couple of passengers - aware that it was my first trip to the Big Apple - gave me the low-down on the ins-and-outs of the mean streets there.



Of course, they raved, I must saunter over to Studio 54!



The chic, bitchy couple excitedly gushed that it was the "in" place to be, provided passage was granted into the exalted confines of the trendy disco within.



Apparently, the stumbling block was a uneasily-bought doorman - with a keen eye - who gave potential party-goers a once over before making a snap decision as to whether to lift the red-tassled rope at the entrance to the club to admit.



How do I wangle my way in, then, I queried them?



"Just use a little psychology," they instructed. And, "you'll be in like Flynn", they mused.



For instance, they cautioned that I should not mince up to the line with a questioning look on my face, wondering if I'd get in.



"Act like you belong, there. That's the key," they noted, matter-of-fact.



So, after I was settled into my Hotel digs in a less-than ritzy part of town, I donned my most expensive knock-out ensemble - white linen slacks, silk shirt, and creme-colored sport jacket topped off with a white fedora slightly cocked to one side of my head - and headed off to meet my destiny.



I took the subway uptown - yeah, until I got situated - a budget was key.



But, at Times Square, I pulled a switcheroo.



Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.



I hailed a cab, then gave instructions to the driver to cruise to a stop at the entrance to exclusive, Studio 54.



"Yes, sir," he responded curtly.



The chic watering hole ceremoniously opened at 254 West 54th Street in Manhattan in the early seventies.



As the hired car cruised up in front of the old theatre, which housed the popular night spot, I couldn't help but wince at the long line snaking on down the street.



From behind frosted glass, I spied about thirty lookie-looks - amid elegant faces of the trendy set - chomping at the bit to catch the doorman's discerning eye.



As I alighted from the cab, and steered my way toward the fray, I heard a strong masculine voice call out - "let that man through".



The bystanders parted like the great sea, as I strolled up to the gated area, with a swagger theretofore unbeknownst to me!



The doorman gave a little bow, released the gold-tipped cord, and let me pass.



"Tabernacle", a French-Canadian part-of-me uttered, as my heart leapt out of my chest.



On the exterior Club 54 was pretty serene and cool.



Inside, however, a frenetic beat stirred up an emotional storm; after all, a nightly primal ritual was underway.



Suddenly - I was thrust amid a host of effervescent gyrating fashionistas, half-naked men, and elegant sophisticated ladies (all tarted up) thriving on an adrenalin rush.



Was that Halston in the corner sipping on cocktail?









At the bar, I spied Grace Jones - all in black - eyeing me mysteriously from behind a thin black veil that sheathed her face and dipped down below her elegant chin.







Studio 54 was operated by the flamboyant - publicly visible Rubell - and a retiring silent partner. During the club's heyday, Rubell became widely known for hand selecting guests from the madding crowds outside and was prone to mix the delicious beautiful "nobodies" with glamorous celebrities in the same venue.



The illustrious manager was nowhere in sight on this occasion, but bound to put in a perfunctory appearance, yet.



As celebrated Jester of the day, he was inclined to hold court, wasn't he?



The theatre, itself, had quite a history.



Studio 54 originated as the Gallo Opera House in 1927, then later became known as the New Yorker Theatre in 1930, the Casino de Paris in 1933, the Palladium Theatre in 1936 and the Federal Music Theatre in 1937.



In 1937, the name was changed back to the New Yorker Theatre - until CBS purchased the facility in the 1950s - when the hot spot was summarily renamed Studio 52.



From the 1950s to the mid-1970s, CBS used the location as a radio and TV stage that aired the shows "Password", "To Tell the Truth", and "The Jack Benny Show" respectively.



The soap opera - "Love of Life" - was produced there until 1975.



In 1976, CBS concentrated most of its New York TV Broadcasts at the Ed Sullivan Theater (Studio 50) further west at the CBS Broadcast Center; so, Studio 52 was sold.



The Ed Sullivan Theater once had a pathway to Studio 54 through an access door which was summarily cinder-blocked during the Theater's David Letterman renovation days.



The building was purchased and renamed for its street address at 254 West 54th Street situated between Broadway and Eighth Avenue. The prominent location was highly visible due to other tenants in the building - two famed disco record labels - West End Records and Scepter.



Carmen D'Alessio, a former PR Agent, was initially retained by model - Uva Harden - to promote the club.



Later, D'Allessio nabbed nightclub owners Rubell & Schrager to head up the disco. Their own club - The Enchanted Garden - had met with considerable success, so they were sure-fire candidates to head up Studio 54.



D'Allessio was uniquely connected in the fashion, music and film scenes, and often hobnobbed with "A" list jet setters, movers and shakers, and celebrities throughout the free-world.



So, Rubell & Shrager gave D'Alessio much of the control for the design and promotion of the club.



For the opening, D'Alessio sent out 5,000 invitations to her very "closest friends", luring each one to the much-anticipated opening with the promise of enticing surprise gifts for those who attended.



Liz Smith, Cindy Adams and other New York gossip columnists reported on the much-ballyhooed opening - at which point, Studio 54 (the most notorious nightclub in history) was born.



At the glitzy, star-studded premier - Bianca Jagger, Brooke Shields, Cher, Margaux Hemingway, and Donald Trump - put in high-profile appearances.



Excited hordes outside scrambled to gain entry but only the lucky ones with connections, a dazzling outfit, or gorgeous face, made the cut.



Imagine that - Mick Jagger and Frank Sinatra - were turned away at the door!



I guess Mick was on-the-outs with Bianca on that occasion!





Shortly after the opening, D'Alessio hosted a birthday party for Bianca Jagger.



Jagger entered on a white horse and the resulting publicity firmly established Studio 54 as the preferred nightclub for New York celebrities including the likes of Halston, Elton John, Liza Minnelli, Truman Capote, Elizabeth Taylor, and Andy Warhol.



Unfortunately, the merry-making would not last forever; after all, there was a scandal brewing in the wings over rumors that scads of cash was allegedly stashed away at the club, complicated by gossip that door receipts were going unreported, illicit drugs were on the premises, and that the owners were bona fide tax evaders.



At the height of the hysteria, Federal agents grabbed Ian Schrager at the disco one morning, and found almost a million dollars hidden in the walls of the premises.



When Steve Rubell was stopped in his Mercedes, another hundred thousand dollars was found stashed in the trunk.



The raid was the story of the decade.



Although the FBI telephoned Andy Warhol as a potential witness (his staff slyly alleged he was out of the office) he escaped the long arm of the law.



Even still, he was unscathed.



In response to the drama, Warhol was alleged to have said,



"All scandals help business because there's no publicity like bad publicity."



In fact, his first reaction was to put Steve on the cover of Interview Magazine!



Indeed, Mr. Rubell was rushed into an elegant tux, photographed, and plastered on the February 1979 cover.



As the Studio 54 scandal hit the front pages of major dailies across the world, Steve Rubell was already cleverly conjuring up a defense.



For instance, he blabbed to everyone within earshot that the White House's "Chief of staff" - Hamilton Jordan - pestered him for cocaine on more than one occasion at Studio 54.



Warhol's response?



"I don't think Steve is a nice person."



Well, to Law Enforcement, he was a criminal - that's for sure.



He was charged, and booked, and served time over the whole fiasco.



Ah, but the memories!

Jackie Curtis...Warhol star on edge!

When a film festival announced their intention to screen a documentary of Andy Warhol star, Jackie Curtis, I jumped at the chance to snatch up a ticket.

After all, my paths crossed with Jackie Curtis many years ago.

I was curious to see how the filmmakers would depict the underground star who appeared in classic low-budget projects such as "Flesh" and "Women in Revolt".

I was in an off-off Broadway play - "The Magic Hype" - which was a spoof on the Andy Warhol stars, when I first came into contact with Ms. Curtis.

The troupe I was involved with were known as the "Hot Peaches".

In "Magic" - the writers took jabs at Andy, his cast of off-the-street down 'n out on-the-edge characters, and the Factory - from whence they came.

Jimmy Camicia was the writer/director/producer cum chief cook and bottle-washer of the "Hot Peaches" troupe, as he likes to demurely put it.

During the successful run of the show (the reviews weren't half-bad in spite of the kitsch and campiness of the production) I struck up a friendship with Jackie who was this-close with a number of the actors in the review.

Jackie was well-known for having appeared in a handful of Warhol films with legendary counter-culture figures such as Candy Darling & Holly Woodlawn.

The raunchy, in-your-face films, were usually directed by clever Paul Morrissey.

When the camera (frequently manned by Warhol) rolled, there was generally a free-for-fall, with the actors - I use the term loosely - and as much improvised content as was theatrically possible in a single take.

On one occasion, I recall chatting with Jackie in her bed-sitting suite above a convenience store in a two-story walk-up in the East Village.

At Jackie's insistence - I recited a handful of my early poems while the lady-of-the-house prepared tea - of all things!

Jackie was a keen writer, as well.

The rambunctious underground star began writing plays in the late 1960's in which he/she usually appeared as the female lead.

"Amerika Cleopatra" ran during the summer of 1968 and co-starred Alexis Del Lago and Harvey Fierstein (Cleo's Jewish Mother).

Remarkable as it may seem, Robert de Niro made his first entrance on the stage opposite Candy Darling during the first run of the production of "Glamour, Glory, and Gold".

Jackie was penning that play in the days we first rubbed shoulders; occasionally, when we bumped into each other at Max's Kansas City, or elsewhere, she offered up snatches of the dialogue for me to critique.

Then, the mercurial Curtis got stuck on the idea of a musical. So, she whipped up a sweet little offering, "Lucky Wonderful". The stage show, with music composed by Paul Serrato, was produced in 1968 at the Bastianos Theater.

Another project - "Heaven Grand in Amber Orbit" - was taken under John Vaccaro's wing at the Playhouse of the Ridiculous in 1969 and toured internationally for two years.

One of my favorite pieces - "Vain Victory" - was produced at La Mama in 1971. The cast included: Candy Darling, Holly Woodlawn, Paul Ambrose, Eric Emerson, Mario Montez, and Andy Warhol.

Then, Jackie got on a kick with James Dean.

Out-of-the-blue one day, Jackie tossed a slick glossy photograph in my lap. It was an 8 x 10 head shot of Ms. Curtis copy-catting the James Dean "look". Excitedly, Jackie exclaimed that she was jetting off to Hollywood to audition for a part about the rebel without a cause, swearing she'd become the next James Dean.

Well, I had to laugh.

Bless her heart! I mean - if you knew Jackie, well - she was more Queen than Dean!

However, because of that momentary loss of her senses, a bolt of lightning struck bringing unexpected fame.

Lou Reed picked up on the madness, then - immortalized Jackie - by writing about the scenario in the tantalizing lyrics for the popular hit, "Walk on the Wild side".

If you recall, in that memorable chart-climber, Lou Reed sang, "Jackie was just speedin' away, thought she was James Dean for a day."

Lou Reed and I actually sang a rock 'n roll version of the Wizard of Oz ballad - "Somewhere over the Rainbow" - one late night, but that's another story...

Not to get sidetracked.

One day, Jackie dashed up to me on the street, begging me to appear with her in a skit for a New Year's celebration at a small Theatre in the East Village.

Of course, I was game.

The idea was worked out to perfection.

I'd gently push Jackie back and forth on a large swing adorned with flowers of all persuasion, center stage. Then - the two of us would dance a simple two-step cheek-to-cheek and side-by-side - to the tune of "Tea for Two".

But it did not go off without a hitch!

About forty-five minutes before the house manager was to wave us onstage, Jackie whipped out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

I was aghast and cried out, "Jackie, not before we go on stage..."

But, Jackie was insistent; it would loosen us up.

Despite my violent protestations, she foisted the bottle on me. Believe me, Jackie was a difficult person to say no, to.

Well, by the time we both got on stage, we were both bombed!

All I recall from that wild, zany night was the swing, a torrent of silky petals cascading furiously to the stage floor, blinding stage lights, and a lot of hilarious laughter and applause.

Oh, and a very nasty hangover the next morning!

Never again!

Whether Jackie was aware of it or not, that little escapade instilled in me a valuable lesson adhered to this day.

I never partake of alcoholic spirits before a performance on stage!

Unfortunately, Jackie did not - nor did she ever - kow-tow to convention; this was a truism in her professional life, to be sure.

The social graces were to be chided - trampled upon - mocked!

But, polite society received her none-the-less.

I surmise her motto was, "Live it up, so you can write it down".

Yeah, she was wild, impulsive, and daring in every conceivable fashion. A darling who pushed the limits.

As the filmmaker of the documentary noted, she could connive, cajole, charm - whatever - until the sights she set were within reaching distance.

Bright, witty, desperate, wacky - .she was all that - and then some.

Ah, I fondly recall Jackie with a smile on my face.

Another Curtis?

Forget it. After the little Warhol scamp was made the mold was broken.