Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
>>>In addition, the great Broadway songs for Black performers, written
in minor keys, all drew on the Jewish tradition as well<<<

As <richwol> points out a bit later, these songs worked for jazz
performers because the minor keys they were written in were ideal
platforms for bluesy improvisations. That's one reason why the 32-bar,
AABA standards were so beloved by jazz musicians. I think it's a happy
coincidence that the minor-key shtetl songs complemented, in their way,
the work songs, spirituals and African chants that grew into the
blues. 

The bluesier 32-bar standards, especially those written by Gershwin,
Duke Ellington and Fats Waller, were more favored by jazz musicians
than some of Berlin's work (as proven by the fact that the Gershwin,
Ellington, and Waller-written standards were recorded far more often by
jazz musicians than Berlin-written standards), but the Berlin songs
could be good for improvising, too, in the right musician's hands. 

As a result, I'd argue that as well known to the general American
public as some of Berlin's songs are, many of Gershwin's are just as
well known. Hell, the chord changes for just "I Got Rhythm" comprise a
veritable cottage industry of their own. 
  

    
<< I'd argue that as well known to the general American
public as some of Berlin's songs are, many of Gershwin's are just as
well known. >>

I'm not sure if I agree with that. There's "I Got Rhythm" to be sure,
and themes from George Gershwin's orchestral pieces, and probably
"Summertime" as well ---- but once you get past that, to songs like
"The Man I Love" or "They Can't Take That Away from Me" or "Let's Call
The Whole Thing Off" or even "Swanee", you don't have the public
awareness of "Easter Parade," "White Christmas," "There's No Business
Like Show Business", "Happy Holidays," or most importantly "God Bless
America." As David Leopold points out in post #31, not even Stephen
Foster (or, I would add, George M. Cohan) has a list like this. There
are lots of standards in the Gershwin canon to be sure, but this list
stands out.
  

    

Well, Berlin outlived Gershwin by what, 63 years? So it's not surprising
that his list of standards would be longer.

I don't really think "Easter Parade" or "Happy Holidays" are in the same
league of current-day recognizability as the other Berlin titles
mentioned above, and are probably less well-known than the Gershwin
songs cited.

Aside from the handful of Berlin songs that are famous less for their
artistic quality than for their association with extra-musical elements
like holidays and patriotic fervor in time of war, I think the best of
Gershwin matches up quite favorably song-for-song with the best of
Berlin in terms of enduring public identification and affection (and I
would add without hesitation to the above list "Someone to Watch Over
Me," "S'wonderful," "Love Is Here To Stay," "A Foggy Day" and several
others.

I say all this, BTW, as a huge fan of Berlin.
  

    
slip. Gary and I had similar thoughts about my earlier post.

I also left out Gershwin standards like "s'Wonderful" and "Embraceable
You." It would take too long to count and there are too many variables
to even try, but I'd wager that there are more Gershwin songs in the
American standards book than Berlin songs (or at the least, given the
shorter amount of time George was alive, a greater percentage of
Gershwin songs than Berlin songs are in the standards book). But that
list (God Bless America, White Christmas, No Business Like Show
Business, et al) is really unique. I would not include "I Can Do
Anything" to that list, by the way: it's just a well-known Broadway
song and equal to probably a dozen Gershwin songs in fame.

I do think George Gershwin was a greater composer, and Ira Gershwin a
greater lyricist, than the combined talents of Irving Berlin's, and I'd
place their catalogue well above Berlin's (individual songs
notwithstanding), but Berlin's musical iconography is matchless, I
think.

David L., I'm curious though, what your thoughts on that would be.
  

    
<almanac> makes a good point that some of Berlin's songs are
well-known because of very specific associations, his best-known among
them ("White Christmas," "God Bless America"). By contrast, only
Broadway historians and enthusiasts remember the names of most of the
shows the Gershwins wrote their great material for; the songs have far
outlasted any specific association. ("Porgy and Bess" is the obvious
exception.)

Inspired by the discussion here, the other day I pulled down one of my
prize possessions from the CD shelf, the big box set issued a few
years ago of Ella Fitzgerald's recordings of virtually all the
standards. These are the mostly-Nelson Riddle-arranged records she made
for Verve in the '50s, with separate albums devoted to individual
composers, the "Song Book" series. These records rank among the
greatest recordings of American music ever made, I think. Anyway, I
listened to the Berlin album, the Harold Arlen album, the Cole Porter
album, and a couple of the Gershwin albums (there are three of those)
-- not the whole box set, but a pretty good selection. The Gershwin
albums are sentimental favorites of mine for many reasons, some having
to do with my late mother, but what struck me the other day is that the
album that really stuck out as fantastic from beginning to end was the
Arlen.

I've listened to all of the "Song Book" music many times before. Yet
never before had the album of Arlen songs struck me as part of the very
cream of the set, but it did this time around. "Stormy Weather," "I've
Gotta Right to Sing the Blues," "Let's Fall in Love," "That Old Black
Magic," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "Blues in the Night," "Get Happy,"
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea," and, oh by the way, "Over
the Rainbow" -- just mind-bogglingly great stuff. Musicians haven't
overlooked Arlen, of course, but I think anyone who recognizes Cole
Porter's name or Irving Berlin's name but not Harold Arlen's is really
missing something.  
  

    
From Steven Suskind's book "Show Tunes," which may be the definitive
research work on Broadway composers:

"If I were to have to list my favorite twenty songs, they would
include a couple by Kern, a couple by Gershwin, and five or six by
Harold Arlen. Many music lovers place Gershwin and Arlen at the top of
the list of American songwriters. Gershwin led the way, certainly,
scattering delightful surprises (blue notes, catchy rhythms, musical
whimsy) throughout his work. Arlen used these same elements, but not
for effect: to Arlen they were a natural part of his musical
vocabulary. Gershwin's fascinatin' rhythms were carefully built and
marvelously effective. Arlen's --- Get Happy for example --- were
infectious and light as air. Gershwin's blues relied on that
distinctive blue note, as in the superb The Man I Love. Arlen's blues
--- Stormy Weather, Blues in the Night --- relied on nothing but his
limitless imagination. The music of Harold Arlen remains ageless, the
songs filled with never-ending wonder."
  

    
I agree with everything in that 'graph, save perhaps the numbers of
songs assigned to the favorite composers in the first sentence.  
  

    

It's amazing how fast two weeks have flown by! Thank you so much for joining
us here in Inkwell.vue, David, and thanks for so ably leading this
conversation, Angie. This has been a rich and fascinating exploration of
Berlin and his music.

Though we've turned our virtual spotlight to a new interview, this one
doesn't have to stop, of course. The topic will remain open and available
for further comments indefinitely and you're welcome to keep going as long
as you're wish. If you must depart, we thank you for your participation.
  

    
> Where does Burt Williams fit into all of this? He was a
> Black performer who performed in blackface, and he was one
> of the Ziegfeld stars. But what I don't know is if he
> influenced the Broadway songwriting world as well as the
> Vaudeville and Ziegfeld-style revues.

It doesn't seem to me that Bert Williams had a lot of influence on
Broadway songwriting, but you probably know that the "Mr. Cellophane"
number in CHICAGO is based on his "Nobody".

My partner saw the concert production of MISS LIBERTY in San Francisco
last year. He agrees with you that it's a terrific score and a so-so
book. I remember we were speculating how it might work to write a new
book around the score; judging from his description, I'd say the book
had some big structural problems.

> no one bothered to save the outtakes to "The Magnificent
> Ambersons" either

The story I've heard is that the studio deliberately destroyed them so
that Welles would have to give up the fight.
  

    
Well, my mother’s death, funeral, and shiva, ended up taking more of
me than I had anticipated. Literally hundreds of people attended the
funeral and passed through my parents’ home this week, and while
cathartic, it was exhausting.

But it seems while I was away there were plenty of good conversation,
so let me add my two cents, for what it is worth.

In post #51 Steve wrote
< The bluesier 32-bar standards, especially those written by Gershwin,
Duke Ellington and Fats Waller, were more favored by jazz musicians
than some of Berlin's work (as proven by the fact that the Gershwin,
Ellington, and Waller-written standards were recorded far more often by
jazz musicians than Berlin-written standards), but the Berlin songs
could be good for improvising, too, in the right musician's hands.

I'd argue that as well known to the general American public as some of
Berlin's songs are, many of Gershwin's are just as well known. Hell,
the chord changes for just "I Got Rhythm" comprise a veritable cottage
industry of their own.>

Yes, jazz musicians have favored Gershwin more than Berlin. And
Ellington and Waller even more than Gershwin. Yet for a songwriter who
wrote virtually no instrumental music, who wrote very concise songs, I
think Berlin’s inclusion in this group speaks volumes. I think I have
said it before, his simplicity is putty in the right musician’s hands.
Some of the songs can really open up. Just the other day I was
listening to Django’s version of “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” and
marveled at where he took it.

Popularity is hard thing to judge in anything besides sales and
recordings, but my point is that Berlin’s song are known by a
multi-generational audience who know many of the songs almost
subconsciously. Those songs really are American folk music. As Richard
points out in his following post, I think only a handful of Gershwin
songs even approach this, but “I’ve Got Rhythm” is certainly one of
them. That said, I am a huge fan of both Gershwins’ work.

Now Gary’s post (#63) I do agree with somewhat, but how can we leave
out some of Berlin’s work in considering his accomplishments, but not
Gershwin’s?

The songs with the “extra-musical elements” such as “Easter Parade”
and “God Bless America” were written for Broadway shows. “White
Christmas’ was written for a film. The fact that they have something
‘extra” was something that Berlin did not plan, nor could he control,
(check out post #44 for Berlin’s reaction to the instant popularity of
“White Christmas”)but it does testify to the songs’ connection with
their audience. The songs took on a life of their own, and what they
written for and when, has fallen by the wayside.

As for time span, Gershwin’s death affected Berlin greatly. They were
great friends, and Berlin’s tone poem for Gershwin is a testament to
his regard for his younger colleague. When another great American
composer, Jerome Kern wrote that Berlin has no place in American music
but that” Irving Berlin is American music” the year was 1925(when
Berlin was 37), and almost all the songs that I have mentioned had not
been written yet. But what had is astounding:
All Alone
Always
Remember
Alexander’s Ragtime Band
A Pretty Girl is Like A Melody
Mandy
I Love a Piano
Simple Melody
What’ll I Do
among many others

If he had died the same year as Gershwin (1937), Berlin could have
added the scores of 
AS THOUSANDS CHEER
FACE THE MUSIC
TOP HAT
ON THE AVENUE
ZIEGFELD FOLLIES OF 1927
And songs like
Blue Skies
Russian Lullaby

Berlin’s earlier work is a lot jazzier than people give it credit for,
and the scores of these works alone give some indication of that. And
even lesser known songs like “The Piccolino” from TOP HAT is a
remarkable dance/rhythm tune.

I do agree that Gershwin was the greater composer, but Berlin insisted
throughout his career that he was songwriter. He wanted to write hits.
He wanted his songs to be sung. And as radio and records gained in
popularity in the 19209s he lamented that we had become a nation of
listeners rather than a nation of singers. The frisson of live
performance was terribly important to him and I think almost all of us
would agree with him on that.

Now Harold Arlen is another incredible contemporary of Berlin’s, one
who Berlin felt did not enough credit for his work. Arlen’s work is
definitely, the “blackest” of the bunch, and soulful in a way that few
songs or songwriters are. I love his music. And one can even make the
case that his music for the Wizard of Oz is as well known as anyone
mentioned in this discussion. Like all great composers, Arlen’s work
feel like you could not put the notes in any other way, that they seem
like low hanging fruit waiting to be picked. Yet he worked as hard as
anyone and his music will live as long as any in the American songbook.
His score for the Broadway near miss, St. Louis Woman is breathtaking.

One can pick at Berlin’s Broadway work or his film work or his
“American” work, yet if he chosen any one of these fields we would be
still be listening to his music (and singing it), the fact that he did
so much in all three makes him a — to coin a phrase — singular
sensation. His story tells the story of these genres, and I think,
gives a pretty good cultural (at least in a popular context) of his
times.

My exhibition on his Broadway work will open in New York on
February14th at the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts,
after a very successful run of five months in San Francisco at the
Performing Arts Library and Museum. Information on that show can be
found at 
http://www.nypl.org/research/calendar/exhib/lpa/lpaexhibdesc.cfm?id=414
You can also get even more info at SFPALM"S site at 
http://www.sfpalm.org/exhibits/Berlin/Berlin.htm

The New York run will feature many additional wonderful artifacts from
Berlin's Broadway career and is a chance to see even more of the
NYPL's stunning collection. From New York (where it will be on through
May 26th) it goes to the McNay Koogler Museum in San Antonio from July
through September. And based on the response its been getting, it  will
probably go on from there.

The Hollywood exhibition opens at the James Michener Art Museum in
Bucks County, Pennsylvania on May 27th.  
http://www.michenerartmuseum.org/exhibits/showbiz.php

Biased as I am, I would encourage you to check out the book which not
only tells the story, but shows it to you as well. Berlin understood
the “show’ of show business and his icongraphy is almost as memorable
as his music.
  

    

Dave, which events in NYC will you be attending?
  

    
Dan, I'll be at the opening for the NYPL exhibition on Monday evening.
I will have John in tow and my father. I'll also be attending (or
participating in the special programming connected to the exhibition.

Free Public Programs in conjunction with the exhibition at The Bruno
Walter Auditorium. The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts
• 40 Lincoln Center Plaza • Program Information: 212-642-0142

Tuesday, February 21, 3 pm*
A Barbara Cook Master Class: Songs by Irving Berlin

Thursday, March 23, 6 pm
Let’s Go On With The Show!
Panel discussion on Irving Berlin’s Broadway with
Russell Nype, Bobbi Baird, Theodore S. Chapin,
David Leopold and guests

Saturday, April 29, 3 pm
Blue Skies:  Irving Berlin Hollywood
An illustrated talk by David Leopold

* Limited seating. Tickets are reguired and will be distributed, one
per person, beginning 1 pm that day at the Library’s Plaza Level
Information Desk. The program will be simultaneously webcast at
http://www.nypl.org/lpaprograms

No tickets are used for other events which are first come, first
served.

On May 30th, there willb e a spcecial Berlin film evening at the
Walter Reade Theater of the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

Dan, if you would like to come on Monday night, let me know, as I am
sure John would also like to see you.
  

    
anychance this is coming to Chicago anytime soon?
  

    
David, thanks for your marvelous book, and for spending time here with
us. Best of luck with the tour - it should be a smash!

<dwaite>, I've got info on the tour hitting SF, LA, NY, and DC, but
nothing further.
  

    
Thanks Angie. the Broadway exhibition will also be going to San
Antonio this summer.
  

    
where in San antonio?
  

    
the exhibition will be at The Marion Koogler McNay Art Museum, a
lovely institution with one of the most remarkable set design
collections in the world. You can find out more about the museum at
http://www.mcnayart.org

And for those interested, we opned the show in New York on Monday
night and it looks wonderful. Lots of material formthe book, as well as
a nice chunk that I could not fit in but would have loved to if they
gave me 500 pages to work with. There are Jo Mielziner designers,
Lucinda Ballard costume designs, Al Frueh carciatures, alex Gard
drawings, Ben solowey drawings, manuscript scores, sheet music covers,
and more than 100 photos. It is worth checking out (biased as I am).

Will Friedwald just wrote aobut Berlin in the NY Sun in connection
with my book and exhibiton. It is a pretty good piece, although Imight
quibble with a few points. Waht do you think? Here is the article.

The Man Who Made Them All Dance

BY WILL FRIEDWALD
February 14, 2006
URL: http://www.nysun.com/article/27510

Once I asked the great lyricist Sammy Cahn about his song "Come Dance
With Me," which he wrote at the request of Frank Sinatra. The
challenge, he told me, was trying to come up with a song about music or
dancing that Irving Berlin hadn't already written. "He has written all
the great songs about dancing, has he not?" Sammy said. "He covered
all the bases!" Then Sammy began reeling off the titles of some of the
most famous songs Berlin had written for Fred Astaire: "Cheek to
Cheek," "Let Yourself Go," "You're Easy To Dance With."

The Berlin-Astaire connection was strong. They collaborated on six
films together, more projects than Astaire did with any other composer
or Berlin with any other star. Yet Berlin didn't write songs about
dancing because he worked with Astaire - it was the other way around.
Astaire wanted to work with Berlin (who was nearing 50 when they began
their collaboration) because he had captured the magic of dancing in
the words and music of so many of his songs. Indeed, a majority of
Berlin's songs were about the sheer joy of music: making it, dancing to
it, participating in it.

No one understood the power of music better than Berlin: It
transformed him from a homeless, penniless immigrant on the streets of
the Lower East Side to one of the richest, most famous, and widely
respected figures in American culture. All this is wonderfully evident
in the new picture book "Irving Berlin's Show Business" (Harry N.
Abrams, 250 pages, $40), compiled by David Leopold, who also curated
the New York Public Library's new exhibition "Show Business!: Irving
Berlin's Broadway," which opens today.

From the beginning, Berlin wrote comedy songs and ethnic songs. Long
before he mastered the heartfelt, romantic ballad, he practically
invented a genre all his own: the party song, the clarion call to have
a good time. "Dance of the Grizzly Bear" and "Everybody's Doin' It"
were Berlin's first notable songs about dancing. He soon was writing
numerous songs about having a ball - in the literal sense - from "The
Million Dollar Ball" to "Belle of the Barber's Ball," and even "The Old
Maid's Ball." Thirty years later, during World War II, he paraded his
support for Franklin Roosevelt with "The President's Birthday Ball."

Berlin made his first attempt at a lyric in 1907, when still a singing
waiter in Chinatown. In the next few years, he honed his art of
writing music (even though he could barely play it) and words, and his
songs, notably "That Beautiful Rag" and "Ragtime Violin," were
increasingly successful. But it was "Alexander's Ragtime Band," penned
in 1911, that put him on the map.

A comic strip from that year (reprinted in Mr. Leopold's book)
illustrates the song's popularity: A hapless character wakes to find
his alarm clock ringing to "Alexander's" syncopated, bugle-call melody;
both the fruit-seller on the street and the local ragman hawk their
wares to its rhythm; even his parrot demands a cracker to its tempo. As
singer-scholar Ian Whitcomb once noted, "Alexander's Ragtime Band" was
the "Rock Around the Clock" of its era.

For decades, purists attacked Berlin with the charge that "Alexander's
Ragtime Band" wasn't real ragtime. It wasn't - no more than his 1920
"Home Again Blues" was a real 12-bar blues or his 1917 "Mr. Jazz
Himself" authentic New Orleans jazz. "Alexander" was a song about
ragtime: Berlin was the first to capture the energy and spirit of the
new music in a popular song. And, even though Scott Joplin and his ilk
had been around for nearly 20 years, "Alexander" was the song that
officially announced the emergence of the new American popular music
born of ragtime, blues, and, soon enough, jazz.

Ragtime and "animal dances" like Berlin's grizzly bear were,
eventually, denounced by the Vatican. But even before that happened,
Berlin satirized his critics by playfully embracing the Satanic side of
the music in "At the Devil's Ball" and "Pack Up Your Sins (And Go to
the Devil)." In "Play a Simple Melody," Berlin composed two distinct
sets of words and music, both using the same chord changes and
encouraging a ragtime band to get hot. He then superimposed the two
strains on top of each other contrapuntally.

When the finished song was performed in Berlin's first Broadway show,
"Watch Your Step," the crowds practically rioted. The words to the
second strain could be a netherworld prayer from a 1970s metal band:
"Musical demon [...] won't you play me some rag?" In 1913's "The
International Rag," Berlin writes prophetically of how American pop
music will conquer the world: "Italian opera singers / Have learned to
snap their fingers!"

Some of Berlin's joy was leavened in 1912 with the tragic death of his
first wife. For the first time, he put his heart in a song with the
classic waltz "When I Lost You"; he would later help establish the
waltz as the time signature for nostalgic reminiscence. Throughout the
teens and the 1920s, Berlin's love songs grew more sentimental. By the
time of his second marriage in 1926, his songs about music had taken a
surprisingly melancholy turn.

Fifteen years earlier, Berlin had used the genre as a harbinger of the
new, of everything tony and fashionable. But in his 30s and 40s, music
became a Proustian trigger to remembrance. In 1919, Berlin established
that "A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody"; just a few years later, turned
that same conceit around with the beautiful "The Song Is Ended (But the
Melody Lingers On)." In the first, the memory of the girl haunts you
in a pleasant way; in the second, a painful one.

Berlin would continue to find variations on the idea, such as the 1928
waltz "Where Is the Song of Songs for Me?"; the romantic "Say It With
Music"; the 1946 ballad "You Keep Coming Back Like a Song"; and the
lovely, autobiographical "I Poured My Heart Into a Song" of 1939. But
the most compelling of Berlin's "serious" songs about music is his
breathtakingly moving "Russian Lullaby" of 1927.

This brief but brilliant 16-bar melody, with its minor-key,
quasi-modal harmonies, is also highly autobiographical - Berlin looking
back on his family in Siberia in a way that's poignant and
bittersweet. Clearly a song about a song, it tells of how the Russian
mother sings her little bubbelas to sleep. Like all of Berlin's
song-songs, it has an air of mystery - Berlin never tells us exactly
what the Russian lullaby says or means. But the family is obviously
looking forward, both toward the future and the West, as they dream of
"a land that's free for you and me."

"Show Business! Irving Berlin's Broadway" at the Library for the
Performing Arts until May 26 (Lincoln Center, 212-870-1630).
  

    

Wow, great press, David. Will this show come out to the west coast?
  

    

Very nice review!
  

    
thanks for the info about the McNay, i hope to see the exhibit this summer.
  

    
Cynthia, the Broadway exhibition debuted in San Francisco in July and
ran through the middle of December. The Hollywood exhibition will
probably come to LA but no date has been set yet.

Thank you for the kind words about the press. The Associated Press
also just gave the show a good review, as did Playbill. If you are in
New York anytime between now and may 26th, you can see the show. It's
free, and open most days.
  

    

Thanks, David, for the book and your conversation here.  I bought a Berlin
CD, the 100th anniversary tribute, and in it was a clipping from USA Today
discussing the centennial and how Berlin was regarded as "the Howard Hughes
of music", having not been seen in so many years.  Made me wonder what those
final decades were like for him.
  

    
debuted in SF in July? oh dear, I'm so sorry I missed it. arg!
  

    
After the critical failure of MR. PRESIDENT, Berlin turned to
Hollywood to create another hit. With Arthur Freed at MGM he conceived
a twenty-five-song cavalcade of his greatest hits, SAY IT WITH MUSIC.
He wrote seven new songs specifically for the film. Freed was excited
by the prospect and suggested that it be a Berlin biography, but, as
always, Berlin turned him down. 

        Announced in June 1963, with Freed producing, Vincente Minnelli
directing, and Arthur Laurents writing the script. The cast included
Frank Sinatra, Fred Astaire, Judy Garland, Ethel Merman, Pat Boone, and
Connie Francis. Only three months earlier, Hollywood acknowledged
Berlin’s remarkable talent in a star-studded dinner for the Screen
Producer’s Guild Milestone Award. 

On the dais with Berlin at the Beverly Hills Hilton were many of the
men and women who had played prominent roles in his film career. Sam
Goldwyn, Adolph Zukor, Jack Warner, Daryl Zanuck, Fred Astaire, Arthur
Freed, Ginger Rogers, Groucho Marx, Bob Hope, Frank Sinatra, and Danny
Kaye. After five hours of testimonials, jokes, and songs, Berlin sat
down at a piano and led the thousand-plus crowd in “God Bless America.”


Nevertheless, over the next six years there would be various cast
changes, and replacements in the creative team of SAY IT WITH MUSIC,
and just when it looked as it would go into production, MGM was sold
and its new owners killed the project. Berlin was furious, but there
was little he could do. “If Louis B. Mayer had been the head of Metro,”
he dictated to his secretary in a quote he never sent out, “SAY IT
WITH MUSIC would have been made, released and piled up a large profit
for MGM.”

        At seventy-eight he wrote his last show-stopper: “Old Fashioned
Wedding” for the 1966 revival of ANNIE GET YOUR GUN. Berlin suggested
to producer Richard Rodgers that the secondary romance of the show,
“the dull stuff,” be dropped. He felt that it was necessary in the
forties, but now it was superfluous. 

        The production was a rousing success, and it was the only Broadway
revival he would ever see of his work. Its triumph got him thinking
about other ventures. He talked about new Music Box Revues and a
musical about life on the Lower East Side. Writing came easier to him
now because “I recognize the wrong choices quicker.” He even tried to
sell a remake of the film of ANNIE GET YOUR GUN to Daryl Zanuck, with
Barbra Streisand in the lead.

But he knew his working days were over. When asked if he would retire,
he responded “Here all I can tell you about that—some day I expect
people to say “Berlin’s slipping…He’s falling…he fell…No, he’s dead!’”
But he knew that he, and the group of contemporaries that were friends,
rivals, and collaborators, were viewed as “antiques, museum pieces.” 

Unlike many of the songwriters of his generation, he owned the
copyrights to his work, and as the years went on, he guarded them
closely, and sometimes bitterly. According to Berlin, a Japanese
consortium had tried to buy his publishing rights for an incredible
sum, but he said he wouldn’t know what to do with the money, and they
wouldn’t know what to do with the songs.
        
Although the American public seemed to be turning its back on his type
of music, he still felt strongly about the country. “Who has the right
to love this country more than I do?” he asked in 1968 at eighty. “I
don’t forget where and how I started. Nowhere but in America. I’m
worried about the sprit of America right now, but I have deep
faith….we’re in a period of revolution and change, but we’re going to
be all right. If America were a company, I’d buy all the stock I could
get, put it away. It’s the greatest land in the world.”

        He was devoted to his wife, Ellin and his growing family, and when he
felt well, he wrote songs for his grandchildren. After visiting the
White House to welcome home returning POWs from Vietnam in 1973 (at the
age of 85), he never made another public appearance (although he posed
for photos in September 1974). He maintained contact with the world
through the phone, calling his office several times a day to check on
business, and also a small circle of friends and admirers, who, he
felt, understood his work. 

So      Berlin did spend 16 years out of view, but by then he was in his
late 80’s and nineties. Not surprisingly, it was physically difficult
for him to make appearances and/or write new music. One of the reasons
I wanted to write this book was to show how full and vital his career
had been. I think many people remember the later years when he was out
of view, and was difficult. But with the career in context, this was
only a small part of life.
  

    

Thanks, David.  Just listening to "What'll I Do" today, and I think it's a
perfect song.  It seems very simple, but it's quite complex in its way, and
very powerful.