Happy 95th Birthday Peter Leavy!!!
Laurie Beechman Theatre, NYC, February 25, 2024
By Alix Cohen
Photos by Maryann Lopinto
On Sunday, February 25, the American Songbook Association and Cabaret Scenes magazine threw a 95th birthday party for Peter Leavy, longtime stalwart supporter of the magazine, cabaret performers, and the art of cabaret. The community arrived at the Laurie Beechman Theatre in force to celebrate.
Leavy found out about the secretly planned event (organized by Frank Dain, Carolyn Montgomery, and Rosalie Berlin) in December 2023 while he was on a cruise. He’d received his magazine, but he’d tucked it away without reading it. Finally, turning its pages at his leisure, he discovered an announcement of the party (it didn’t list the performers) and he was gob smacked. It is not, as many of you know, easy to surprise him. Leavy sent a list of the artists he wanted to perform, and those who were available were present.
A long table set with hors d’oeuvres had been laid out, and drinks were ordered as the audience and singers caught up with one another. At 7:30, MD Yasuhiko Fukuoka took his seat at the piano and the entertainment began. Some performers tailored their songs to be about Leavy, and some added their thanks or memories.
“I’ve been told don’t talk, just sing,” Natalie Douglas said before launching into a robust, low-register “Begin the Beguine.” Richard Skipper’s jazzy “It’s Not Where You Start” might certainly refer to the man who had help sustaine Cabaret Scenes. With grace and heart, Eric Michael Gillett shared the song he sang the night he first met Leavy, “I Was Here,” which might also apply to the difference the honoree has made in people’s lives.
Scott Barbarino of Nitelife Exchange suggested that “You Belong to Me” is what he thinks about when Leavy is off on one of his many trips—go figure. By request, vocalist/producer Jamie deRoy gave her all to an animated “Jews Don’t Camp” eliciting room-wide chuckles. (Ron Abel was at the piano.) Elegant and fond, Eric Comstock and Barbara Fasano mingled “A Love Like Ours” and “Old Friends.”
“One Rock and Roll Too Many” reminded us that Lennie Watts is too rarely onstage. Invited to sing at Leavy’s 85th, 90th, and now 95th birthday, he expects to be included for Leavy’s 100th. (I’m unsure of the song’s relevancy.) Lina Koutrakos’ “My Favorite Year” sincerely expressed her affection. “We’re a family,” she said giving voice to the thoughts of everyone present. At the piano, Sammy Goldstein curiously chose a lengthy version of “You’re the Bottom.”
Craig Pomranz, President of the American Songbook Association, performed a jaunty “I Always Say Hello to a Flower,” perhaps reflecting Leavy’s spirit. (Michael Roberts, Vice President of the American Songbook Association, accompanied Craig.) “He’s always there with a check, a laugh, and applause,” Pomranz added. As rendered by Craig Rubano, accompanied by pianist Beth Ertz, “The Impossible Dream (The Quest)” in both English and Spanish was simply gorgeous. Leavy has personified its subject repeatedly throughout his long life.
Sidney Myer thanked the birthday man for his support, including his being featured on a cover of Cabaret Scenes. “Easy Money,” about which most people dream, but to which no one in this profession has access, was predictably captivating. Aaron Lee Battle gave us a warm, subdued “Here’s to Life,” surely Leavy’s mantra. Warren Schein’s low-key “That’s All” might represent community gratitude. Ricky Ritzel erupted in a series of Catskills jokes.
Executive Director of the American Songbook Association, Carolyn Montgomery, cleverly rewrote and performed “Dear Mr. Gable”/“You Made Me Love You” to fit Leavy; it was charming. The inimitable Steve Ross sang a stylish “You’d Be So Easy to Love” followed by a wry, bespoke version of “You’ve Got That Thing” (“those Cabaret Scenes). Jeff Harnar’s tender, infectiously happy “Too Marvelous for Words” reached out past the footlights.
The show closed with Frank Dain, treasurer of The American Songbook Association and editor of Cabaret Scenes magazine. “Birthdays are a time of reflection,” he said. His rendition of “I See the World Through Your Eyes” was a promise of remembrance and an acknowledgment of a legacy. (Kathleen Landis was at the piano.)
The dapper Leavy rose and spoke as few words as he’s ever spoken under similar circumstances. Visibly moved, he nonetheless told a risqué joke before thanking everyone saying, “I’m honored, flattered, flabbergasted.” A large cake was carried to the stage. We all sang “Happy Birthday.” See you in five years!
