Word: greenrooms
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...orchestra was visible and the brightly-lit scrim which changed color from scene to scene: red, green, blue. Stage lights turned the air to a tinged blue haze which echoed with the disembodied voices of actors and laughter and applause. Every so often an actor dashed through the greenroom, grabbing a throat lozenge or gulp of water along the way. "We have a pretty good audience" Douglas Hughes breathed in mid-dash. Upstairs, Dorothy Weaver, the producer, watched from the top row of the balcony. She anticipated every light cue by anxiously looking up seconds before it was scheduled...
...York," she cooed to the patrolmen, "but this time I notice a huge difference." Two years ago, 60 actors, including Hal Holbrook, Julie Harris and Joan Hackett petitioned the city for better protection of the grubby Great White Way. It was claimed that actors could not step outside the greenroom without getting goosed or mugged. Today, says A Little Night Music's Hermione Gingold, "There are far less evil-looking people around." Two days later, an uptown precinct tried to persuade the visiting Moiseyev troupe of folk dancers that Central Park was safe. Not a bicycle thief...
Career No. 5, the arduous business of being a celebrity, devours every minute of Bernstein's life that escapes the other four. Occasionally fortified with Dexamyl, he copes with interviews, conferences, half a dozen different agents, the management of his income (an estimated $100,000 last year), greenroom receptions and after-concert parties ? at which lie may call for a pot of caviar and talk lucidly for hours...
Pleasing the grey, matronly Friday matinee-goers was certainly part of the Boston tradition. Some of them would miss the little after-concert ceremony in the greenroom: kissing and being kissed by Koussy. Their new conductor was an affectionate man, but not quite the kissing type. Like many another native of Alsace, Charles Munch is a composite of the characteristics of both France and Germany. In him the French bon vivant shines only dimly through a fog of German Weltschmerz: he enjoys life but seldom seems basically happy...
After concerts he usually hurries out of the greenroom, nods to the waiting knot of well-wishers, then pops into his black Oldsmobile sedan for a dash home to Brush Hill Road in suburban Milton (the former home of the late Bishop William Lawrence). Only when he reaches the sanctuary of his second-story study, with Roger, his chauffeur-valet of 20 years' service hovering around him, does he seem to draw a relaxed breath...