Time to renew the covenant:
My father, Richard Carter, is 82 years old today!
Here he is 55 years ago, with a little first-born son:
Friday, June 2.
A day in the life. Three different hats, each of them delightful and satisfying.
Morning. Final audition day at Webster University. Meet and greet ten students who wish admission to the Department of Music’s various majors. Hear auditions, and meet with various faculty.
Afternoon. At home for 3.5 hours of voice lessons, and some real success in making modifications in tonal quality and breath management. I love teaching voice, and am delighted for the six new private-studio students who started lessons recently.
Evening. At New Line Theatre. Opening night of The Sweet Smell of Success. Black clothing but warm hearts as I lead the ensemble in this witty, wicked show.
I ate the whole thing. And then was happily miserable for hours.
The movie Maurice had a profound and lasting effect on a 26-year-old closeted kid named Jeff.
I saw the movie at the Tivoli in Westport, which was at that time one of the rare art-houses in Kansas City.
Of course the Anglophile in me loved the movie. The musician did too, thanks to yearning and evocative soundtrack by Richard Robbins.
But the closeted young gay man in me wept and wept, then went back to see the movie again two days later.
Here on screen was all the fear and excitement and shame and hope that I could not yet sort out.
Several years later, when I had indeed sorted out much of the baggage, I started pointing others to this same movie. I’m so glad it’s receiving a 30th-anniversary re-release in cinemas, and I look forward to seeing it again on the big screen. My 25-year DVD set, with all sort of extras, has certainly helped keep kindled my love for this movie.
I really should write my own words of thanks to James Ivory, no?
When I win the lottery this weekend (which I’m going to do), this New York City flat will be mine.