We are sad to report that Steve Downey, a gentleman among gentlemen, has passed away after a long illness. His wife, KT Sullivan, and son Jim were at his side. Steve was a terrific champion of all things cabaret and could be seen in the audience enthusiastically cheering on the performer. He was kind and nurturing and welcoming. He and KT opened their home for many parties and Steve was always the gracious host.
Steve was President of The Yeats International Theatre Festival and the New York Browning Society. He had a long career in public relations and speech writing, having written speeches for the Bill Clinton and Jimmy Carter campaigns. He put on his producing hat for the Off-Broadway show, American Rhapsody, which starred KT and Mark Nadler.
Rest in Peace, Steve.
Eric Yves Garcia has this to say about Steve used with the permission of the Mabel Mercer Foundation.
There’s a diligent faith in Steve, a fortitude that lets others be themselves but confident in their hearts, their aptitudes. Allowing for their stumbles, that the uncertainties and blunders aren’t disqualifying but formative. A man late in life who is youthened by anticipation of all the good, all the giving, they will realize in their own voices, their own paths, their own time. A protector of and, in his way, elder student on the subject of the young.
One wonders who showed Steve the wisdom of this nourishing cycle, a teacher or parent or mentor? What’s never in question is that it summons in him all that is as expansive as a pub on a Sunday, as lyrical as his dear Browning, and as protective as a private word away from the crowd. If he tells me that some city is a great town, some woman a great gal, that the best is yet to be, I’m delighted to believe him. It feels collegial, somehow as if you’re joined shoulder to shoulder on a team. We’re in this together, his unspoken always seems to say, and won’t we all be bettered by it?
But it also took actions only he could do. To hear him smoothly and surely introduce a neophyte around to the influential was to witness an elder statesman at a Georgetown cocktail party. To see him, in an audience, clench a fist in solidarity and wink and silently cheer you to victory was like being spurred on to seize the championship with seconds on the clock. It never failed to work a bit of magic. Even if you didn’t see what he saw, you’d hate to spurn that quiet solidarity. It felt wrong, was wrong, and you gave the moment what you had.
His faith and love, his cycle, are now being returned to him in kind.
– Eric Yves Garcia
(November 18, 2021)
