Ethel Merman, toast of London at 65

Press, Volume CXV, Issue 33804, 29 March 1975, Page 6

Ethel Merman, toast of London at 65

(By

JUDITH REGAN)

She was christened Ethel Agnes Zimmerman. Somewhere along the way to stardom, however, she dropped the Agnes and the Zim.

“Ethel Merman looks better on the billboards,” she told me. And today, more than 40 years later, Ethel Merman is still the biggest name around in the world of musicals.

She was the original Annie in “Annie Get Your Gun.” She was Madam, in "Call Me Madam.” She was still wowing them long after with “Dolly.” And she was the toast of Broadway again with “Gipsy.” More recently she was packing the London Palladium every night of her twoweek season, belting out all the old favourites, and proving the truth of the words of yet another song she made her own, “There’s no business like show business.” Her visit to Britain, she says, was iong overdue.

“All my life,” she told me, as she relaxed in the sittingroom of her hotel suite, in a vivid, printed kimono, “I have thought of the two

greatest variety theatres in the world as being the Palace, New York, and the Palladium in London.

“New York was no pro-( biem. but somehow there has i always been a show going, or i something going, and I’ve! never gotten around to thel Palladium until now.” There has been a show go-' ing for Ethel, in fact, since; she was five years old, and i singing at her parents’ parties.; When she was 16, she was! still singing, but when she; I left school, her father, who; i was an accountant, was of the. (opinion that a commercial! (course would prove more; beneficial than a stint in the ■ : chorus somewhere. SECRETARY ! And so she went to busi-j Ines college, then worked as; a junior secretary with a firm i ' who specialised in anti-freeze. I After that came promotion,! s and a job as a senior secre-; tary. “I was with the Vacuum! Booster Brake Company,”; she recalled, “and I was ah very good secretary, except'; for taking dictation. I could, ; manage the ordinary bits; Hike ‘Dear Sir,’ and ‘Yours! 1 (faithfully,’ and most of the! (phrases in between as well. 1 ; “But when it came to the; (technical jargon, I used to! (leave big blanks in the; !middle, so that my boss could! (fill them in.” Miss Merman prefers to (leave big blanks in her: memory at this pont, when it! (comes to describing his 1 (language on such occasions. ! Fortunately, however, show [business still held more | appeal for her than shortihand, and she w’as singing in (the evenings in various clubs; (and restaurants around New I j York. ! Eventually the inevitable! happened. She was spotted! land given an audition with! i Gershwin. HIT THE JACKPOT ; “I expected the usual spiel; (about how I should go and! get myself a good teacher,” | says Ethel. “But instead he; told me to stay exactly as I was, and not change a; thing.” And so she went — exactly!

as she was — into a musical called “I Got Rhythm,” and right away she hit the jackpot. Gershwin, Cole Porter, Irving Berlin — they all wrote songs for her. Cole Porter said her voice was as pure as a brass band. Irving Berlin confessed he would never dare write her a bad lyric, because every word could be heard at the very back of the theatre. And another wit declared that she could hold a note for longer than the Chase Manhattan Bank. NOT EASY Today, at 65. her voice is as strong as ever, her personality as brilliant, her press interviews as honest. Four times married, four times divorced, she says now, “I guess maybe I’m not very easy to live with. I can’t quite see myself in the role of housewife, and I kinda like things the way I like them to be. “On the other hand,” she says, “I sure as hell couldn’t stand the kind of guy who let me tell him what to do. “So you see, it isn't exactly easy.” All the same, she enjoys; life hugely. “You can tell! them,” she volunteered, “that! I’m still playing the field.” ! It is a field that has no; shortage of admirers and, indeed, at the party after her opening night at the Palladium, you have to fight to get (a word with her. But would-be contenders, be warned. Miss Merman is a regular Cinderella. “I generally like to quit the ball around midnight,” she says. She refuses all lunch dates. “I like my mornings to be long and lazy,” she confided. In the afternoon, she usually (does a bit of shopping, she might see some friends, and (she always has her hair set, ready for the evening show. I The show, of course, takes i care of the evening. So really, (all that is left of the day is (tea. "But then.” beams the [irrepressible Ethel, “there is nothing in the world I like better than a cup of English tea.” The way she said it, she :made it sound like chamI pagne.

—Features International.