Liza. 'Nuff said.

"Liza Minnelli... I like her." The person speaking to me is my mother. I am probably about eleven or twelve. A true mama's boy, a gay boy and a future gay man, I (naturally) idolized my mother. If she liked Liza Minnelli, I would like her too. What is more, I would give my mother some Liza Minnelli for Christmas. We were living in Europe - in Portugal to be exact - and there was a trip coming up for the entire family, a trip to London. I would hit the record stores there and do some Christmas shopping. That is precisely what I did, too, returning home to Portugal with the records to Liza With a Z and Liza Live at the Winter Garden. I gave them to mama for Christmas that year.



Christmas was the last day that she saw those record albums.



Upon hearing the records, I adopted them and my mother's like of Liza become a love for me. Thirty years later, I love her, more than ever.



I know it is cliche. I suppose I am a cornucopia of cliches - and yet I don't consider myself ordinary. I just happen to be a gay man with divas (cliche) and my biggest diva is Liza (supercliche). I spent my life going to her movies, watching her tv appearances, seeing her concerts, buying her records and loving all of them - even the bad ones (the movies... Liza doesn't have bad recordings; but even SHE has admitted that Rent A Cop was not a good move). It doesn't matter, though, whether they are bad, good or great - I love her. I don't defend it, I can't explain it; and I don't feel the need to. I love her and I am not alone. She is my diva, she is my idol, she is my girl. I don't care about the mishegos that the chatteratti seem to care about - the ex husbands, the scandals, the mess. I only care that she reaches inside of me and taps my on button. When I am in a bad mood there are certain surefire ways of lifting it... a viewing of UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN, dancing, working out, a walk in Central Park. Liza is a surefire way to lift the grey. Maybe the recording of Liza Live at the Winter Garden, maybe a curl up on the sofa with my vhs of STEPPING OUT. The dvd of Liza With a Z will do it every time. She is my girl.

I have seen Liza Minnelli in concert something like 9 or 10 times. I have missed a lot because I have never had any disposable income (I urge you parents out there to force your kids into law school or medicine, rather than the arts); but I have seen a lot because it is a priority for me. The first time I saw Liza was 1978. I was in Switzerland and she was playing Lausanne. I read about it and I told my mother I just had to go and she said ok (recently she said to me "what was I thinking?! I let my 15 year old son get on the train and go from Berne to Lausanne for a show!"). I was a twinky tween off to see my idol perform live, all dressed up and traveling by train. What an adventure! The show was earth shattering. I'd never seen anything or anyone like it. I remember every minute, still, and I have my souvenir program. I know exactly where it is at this moment. It is in the "Liza souvenir program pile", something my friend Trish says you can only find in a gay man's home. At least, something you can find in THIS gay man's home.

Each time I go to see a Liza concert, I am thrilled; I am made happy, no matter my mood.

I remember when I went to see MINNELLI ON MINNELLI. There was this big, brassy, exciting overture. The curtain was up and there were these big, shiny, mirrored columns on the stage - the most prominent being upstage center. At the climax of the overture, that column upstage parted and there she stood. I burst into tears. In those days, Rosie O'Donnell had a tv show and she talked (alot) about Barbra Streisand and how much she loved her, what Barbra meant to her. She talked about it to the point of being irritating, if not nauseating. However, I understood her devotion to her diva; we all have a star or two for whom we feel this devotion. At that moment, at MINNELLI ON MINNELLI, I realized that Liza is my Barbra. Oh, I have other divas - in fact, I do love Barbra. I also love Helen Reddy, Shirley Bassey, Cher, Bette Midler, Chaka Khan. I have divas that aren't quite so obvious as Liza and Barbra, but divas who wouldn't surprise anyone - like Carol Burnett and Donna Murphy, Katharine Hepburn and Barbara Stanwyck. I even have my Aaron Spelling divas - oh, yes, I love my Joan Collins and Diahann Carroll, my Stephanie Beacham and my Leann Hunley. I have a diva collection. They are different types of divas with different degrees of diva-dom.

But Liza Minnelli is my be all end all.

Even more than her great, glorious, legendary mom, the gay diva to end all gay divas: Judy Garland. I truly do love Judy Garland.

But Liza Minnelli is MY diva.

So I read that Liza was coming back to Broadway in a limited run concert.

Yee Muthafuckin' Haw. I was SO there.

The day the tickets went on sale, I opened my Sunday Times and there was a full page ad of Liza's eyes. It said the tickets went on sale at noon and it was noon thirty. I ran to Pat, sitting at the computer and said "I want this." The greatest husband of all time, he said "ok" and, moments later, it was done. We had nice seats. Not the best seats (first ten rows, center orchestra) but nice seats, off to the side (not way off) in the orchestra. Now all we had to do was sit back and wait for the day; of course my Ipod was set, almost permanently, on Liza for days (the only time it was switched off Liza was for a little Christmas music, in honor of the season, or for the soundtracks from THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM or THE DARK KNIGHT, for when I was in one of my angry moods -- they come up a lot). Mostly, though, it was all Liza, all day. At home I found opportunities to watch my dvds of LIZA WITH A Z, LIZA AT RADIO CITY, NEW YORK NEW YORK, CABARET and ARTHUR. I watched my vhs of STEPPIN OUT, THE STERILE CUCKOO, A MATTER OF TIME, LUCKY LADY. I watched my home recorded copies of BARYSHNIKOV ON BROADWAY, LIZA IN LONDON, LIZA IN NEW ORLEANS and every other tv special or bootleg I had. With each passing day, I grew more excited for that night when our Christmas season would start, for my husband and I would be attending LIZA'S AT THE PALACE.



I was dressed in my camouflage pants and the shirt my father wore in Korea. I had a black skully on and black combat boots. It was a definite outfit - but one I wore with pride because it is my tribute to the armed forces of this country; and because I look good in it. The Palace was going to be filled with gay men and I wanted to make sure I landed on the side marked hot. Walking up to the theater, Pat giggled: he hadn't, yet, seen the four story billboard in Times Square of Liza's eyes (and while we are on the subject - how many people do YOU know who are so famous that they get a four story billboard in Times Square of just their eyes? Yeah. I thought so). We entered, passing under the Bill Westmoreland (sigh, I'm such a fucking fan - if I had his talent, I might still have a job) photos taken for the show. The merch sellers were calling out, selling programs, shirts, hats, magnets, posters, cds - I wondered how much money I would spend at that counter? Finally, we were in our seats and they were good seats. Buzz. Chatter. People socializing. It was like being at a party - a big gay party where some of the boys had brought along a straight friend or two. There were older women behind us, affluent New York society people off to our left, and a celebrity or twenty down in the front seats. People had gotten dressed up for this. It was Christmas in New York city. It was the Palace Theater. It was Liza Minnelli. People were not there in blue jeans. House lights down. Cue the band. Drums. The notes of New York New York were played. The curtain went up and there was a silhouette in front of bright orange light - the woman stood, feet wide apart, one hand on a hip, one hand reaching toward the heavens. The audience roared and rose to their feet.

I burst into tears.

When the full force of Matt Berman's (genius!) light showed the white spangle dressed Liza with a Z in full bloom, Pat laughed "SHE looks GREAT!!". She was walking and dancing and singing and in great voice. I screamed and cheered and laughed and cried for two solid hours. It was one of the great nights of my life. There truly is no other way of putting it. It was even better than all of the other times I have seen Liza and I am going to tell you why.

The last time I saw Liza was MINNELLI ON MINNELLI. I loved her, then, as I have always. However, she was not in great voice and she was, certainly, not in good shape. Not that it mattered - I loved her and the show. The thing about being Liza Minnelli is that you are so famous that your personal life is the subject of a lot of press. At that point in her life, Liza had been through so much - and the world and her fans went through it with her. She had been through some divorces, some miscarriages, some rehab, some physical problems. She had gained a lot of weight (something she admitted openly in that show "not caring they say 'my GOD she's fat..I'm glad I'm not young anymore") and her glorious voice had suffered some setbacks. A few years later she did the show LIZA'S BACK, which I did not get to see (I was poor, broke, penniless... you get the idea) but I bought the cd and loved that her voice was getting stronger, which you can hear if you listen to MINNELLI ON MINNELLI and LIZA'S BACK, back to back. She, quite famously, had a bout with (I'm going to spell this wrong) viral insephalitis, had some joints in her legs replaced and a few birthdays. She's not a kid anymore -- and I think she still smokes cigarettes (though I don't know her, so I cannot be counted an expert on that matter). So I didn't know what I was going to get when she started singing Teach Me Tonight.

What I got was my diva. Liza is in such great voice. I don't care what the persnickety, bitchy chatterati says. SHE STILL HAS IT. She is in GREAT voice. She is in great performance mode. She owns things like "remember when I used to get down on one knee, here? Forget it!" but she IS dancing and she IS moving about that stage and singing soft songs, belt songs, songs we've heard her sing before, songs that are new to us. She looks beautiful and her costumes show her off to the most amazing advantage. She is in love with her audience and they are, clearly, in love with her back.

There were ovations after every song. People cried out from their seats "we love you Liza!" and she replied, very sincerely, in one of three ways: "Thank you!" and "I know" and "I love you, too." Dudes, she means it. She knows it. She makes jokes in the show about her divorces, so we all know that she has been unlucky in love... in THAT kind of love. But she has not been unlucky in the love she gets from her fans. We who are devoted to Liza shower that love on her with a force like a natural disaster - a tidal wave of love washes over this force of nature in buggle beads and she knows. The audience is the love of Liza's life. She needs our love and she gets it; she feels it and she acknowledges it. AND we NEED her. She is like a life force to us. I know I am not the only who feels this because I stood in that room with the rest of her fans and watched, felt, the reactions to her prescence, the love of her artistry. It was like being at a tent revival.


Aside from just being there with Liza and the other Liza lovers, some of the highlights of the show, for me, were when she sang some Charles Aznavour - dudes, I tell you, nobody (NOBODY) does the musical monologue, the three acts in one song take you on a journey by telling you a story, better than Liza Minnelli. I remember when I first started listening to her concert albums, noticing the way she told stories in song: in LIZA WITH A Z - It Was a Good Time, in LIZA LIVE AT THE WINTER GARDEN - And I, In My Chair, in LIZA IN LONDON - I Couldn't Be Happier, in LIZA AT RADIO CITY - Sorry I asked, in LIZA AT CARNEGIE HALL - The Marriage Medley (You And I/The Honeymoon is Over/Happy Anniversary). Now she takes us on a journey with What Makes a Man A Man and the audience is mesmerized, absolutely. I loved, Loved, LOVED when she turns the duet I Am My Own Best Friend into a solo, complete with Roxie Hart's character talking to herself in her moment of need - it's a great spin on that number. The quietness of He's Funny That Way, while Liza sits, comfy, in her famous and always present director's chair is sublime.

I sighed and giggled when she started to sing the Palace Medley that I spent my youth listening to, as performed by one Miss Judy Garland. GodDAMN that was special, hearing Liza sing that intro and then wail on Some of These Days and bring the house down with I Don't Care. I bounced in my seat and actually chair danced (thank God I was in an aisle seat and didn't have to worry about disturbing anyone next to me) when she did Clap Yo' Hands during the STUNNING Kay Thompson section of the show - I love that number from FUNNY FACE, it has always been one of my favourites. To see and hear Liza do it is sheer heaven - and leave us not mention that she has the sexiest and most talented group of guys doing this show with her. How thrilling is it to be at Jim Caruso's Broadway debut? And hasn't he earned it? Cortes Alexander, one of the very best vocalists around; Tiger Martina, who was so beautiful in Movin Out; and the wonderful Johnny Rodgers, of whose work I have been such a fan. These four men are so perfectly handpicked to work so beautifully alongside each other and to help showcase our diva. They make gorgeous harmonies together, dance with delightful dexterity and when each has a solo, prove that they can go it alone. I love them. I especially love it when the genius Billy Stritch comes out from behind the piano and sings for a bit. I know he is one of the very best pianists, maybe the very best arranger, but I always love it when he sings - I wish he would do it more often. When Billy Stritch sings it is like the French Silk Chocolate icing my mama used to put on her butter cakes. Sexy. Smooth. Sexy. That is Billy Stritch singing.

It it a perfect show, a perfect showcase for one of the world's greatest live entertainers.

And my very favourite moments are when, in absolutely perfect voice, Liza sings the songs she has made famous. Maybe This Time (I was completely undone), And The World Goes Round (what a belt!), Cabaret (I was laughing with happiness the whole time) and (of course) New York New York. Dudes, the song was written FOR Liza Minnelli. That is heady shit, man. The song that has become so famous, that has become the anthem for my favourite city, one of the loves of my life; it was written (expressly) for one of the loves of my life. Yee Muthafuckin Haw.


I loved the show so much, I was so emotionally spent, so exhilerated, that I bought seats to three more performances. One set of seats was so that I could take my galpal, Jennifer, to see the diva. Jennifer is an actress who has loved Liza since CABARET, yet never seen her in concert. I wanted to give her this gift for her birthday because any fan of Liza needs to see her live, at least once. I feel that everyone should see Liza sing New York New York and Cabaret, at least once. Even if Liza's music is not your thing, even if you don't count yourself among her fans, everyone should hear her sing those two songs, live, at least once. You will, then, be able to say "I wasn't a fan - but I get it now". So I took Jen to see Liza, for her birthday, and Jen screamed and cheered and I felt like it was money well spent. It was good for me to go back, too, because Liza had caught cold and was missing some shows and I got to see what happens when a great singer gets sick: they GET ON WITH IT. She sang; and when she had to cough, she did. When she had to blow her nose, she did. When she needed water, she got it. She wasn't coy about it, she didn't try to cover it up, she did her job; and the fans knew they were watching a survivor, a professional who is going to deliver NO matter what.

The next set of tickets was so that Pat could take a young friend of ours to see her. He had expressed an interest to see Liza but didn't have the bucks. He's younger than us and has his own divas (Whitney, Britney) but hadn't a fair knowledge of Liza to appreciate the diva of the older generation's appreciation. We thought he should have the chance to see her, we love him very much and wanted to give him this for HIS birthday, so Pat took him. Again, she had been sick with a bad cold (we all have one right now) but she showed up and she delivered. Both boyz came out of the Palace beaming.

And the final set of tickets were used by my husband and I, just before Christmas, last Sunday. We sat in the orchestra and held on to each other, laughing and crying, along with the other members of the tent revival, because she is just that wonderful. For the occasion, my Pat gave me a new hat - a fedora like the one Judy wore in her famed Get Happy number. I dressed for the occasion and, again, I saw other people dressed in honour of Liza. A young gay boy in a fur, an urchin haircut and eyeliner, a woman in a black coat covered with silver sequins, a young man in a black velvet blaze with silver threads throughout - people were dressed for an occasion; and seeing Liza at Christmas is an occasion. On this occasion, once more, she was in great voice (only traces of that cold came out from time to time and she handled with with grace and honesty). She was heavenly, absolutley heavenly, dealing with crazed fans screaming after every number "Are you ok, honey?" "thank you, I love you, too... security?". We who love Liza may never meet and shake hands but we are bonded together by having been in that theater on that day, on every day that we gather to cheer on this survivor, this entertainer, the New Yorker.

At the end of the show, she surprised us, each time. The playbill has a songlist and her final song is listed as I'LL BE SEEING YOU. For these days before the holiday, she has chosen to share with us a topical song. She speaks of the power of songs for sharing emotions and claims this is the best way for her to share what she is feeling. She begins to sing.

"Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas, let your heart be light"

And the entire audience sighs and melts.

At the end of the song, she walks center stage, stands, feet wide apart; puts a hand on a hip and reaches one to the heavens and the curtain closes. The audience goes out into the cold air, warmed to their core by love.


There is a moment in the show when Liza says that some things are just magical. That last time I saw LIZA'S AT THE PALACE, she said this and I thought something. Moments later, another theater goer called out what I was thinking.

"YOU are!"

Yes.

Say Yes.

Please note that I only took one picture in this story - the one of the marquee. The rest, I found on the internet and I applaud the photographer (no credit was available) who captured the images - they are stellar.