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 Nora’s swan song
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| Manhattan Bridge. 7:15 PM. Photo: Jeff Hirsch. |
Tuesday, July 10, 2012. A cooling off on late Sunday, early Monday, with the temp dropping from high 90s in the day to mid-70s late night. It was very warm again yesterday but not oppressive as the last week and a half. Last night it dropped into the upper 60s. A tremendous relief.
Yesterday was author’s day. In the late morning there was a memorial at Alice Tully Hall for Nora Ephron who died on June 26 of acute myeloid leukemia. Afterwards I met Linda Fairstein for lunch at Swifty’s. Linda, author of the Alex Cooper crime mysteries, debuts her 14th novel in the series, Night Watch, today in bookstores.
If you’re up early enough she’s on the Today Show this morning (she was on Imus yesterday), and if you’re anywhere nearby this evening, she’s doing a reading and signing books at Barnes & Noble on 86th Street between Lexington and Third at 7 PM.
Tomorrow evening she’ll be doing the same at Murder By the Book in Houston (www.murderbooks.com) and then on to Phoenix, Oakland, Corte Madera, California, Lake Forest Park, Washington, Kansas City, Brooklyn, Huntington, West Hampton Beach, Mattituck, New York, Darien, Madison Connecticut, Vineyard Haven and Edgartown on Martha’s Vineyard, and then it’ll be almost Labor Day. You can find Linda’s exact schedule on www.lindafairstein.com.
Linda and I have known each other for quite some time. I’m a big admirer of her work, her stamina, her generous personality and friendship so there’s always a lot to discuss. Yesterday lunch was no different. I had started the book the night before. I’m not by habit a big reader of crime novels, but I’m always amazed at how quickly I’m sucked into her stories before I get to page 7. How does she do it, I wanted to know. And why? That led to a long lunch of learning, but more on that tomorrow. |
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| Me and Linda at Swifty's. |
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Nora Ephron’s memorial was by invitation only. I was not on that list but a friend asked to accompany her as she is recovering from hip surgery and was still uneasy on her own. There was some talk in the days before about why it memorial wasn’t open to the public. Being there I could see why. Alice Tully Hall has a seating capacity of a little over 1000 and it was filled by people Nora had wanted to invite. As it is in stage theaters, there were different sections color-coded. We were in the upper section which was probably a good third to half of the theater. It was especially convenient in getting in and out quickly and without the crowd.
Among the guests were Barry Diller and Diane von Furstenberg, David Geffen, Carl Bernstein, Nora’s second husband and father of her two sons; Mayor Bloomberg; Patricia Bosworth; Senator Al Franken Minnesota; Jerry Della Femina and Judy Licht; Jon Hamm, of “Mad Men”; Lauren Bacall, Steve Martin; Meg Ryan; Martha Stewart; Gayle King, Charlie Rose, Barbara Walters, to name only a handful.
Scheduled for 11:30, people began arriving by 11, and it got underway about 11:45 when all of the speakers entered the hall single file (in order of appearance) from the wings, taking their seats in the first row. |
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The entire event was planned by Nora, and left in a folder marked EXIT, right down to the number of minutes allotted for each speech. In the end, you could see the hand of what caused many friends and admirers to think of her as a genius. Because the end result was the signature of a woman so versed and expert in the business of Show that it was brilliant.
On first look at the program with eleven speakers, despite the known talent of many of them, it was easy to expect it to be at least an hour and a half. There are always some people who say little, and others who just go on and on. Everyone knows that. Although because I never knew Nora except to exchange hellos, I didn’t know that she wouldn’t have tolerated anybody going on and on. Economy of words was a prerequisite for herself as a writer, and for anyone else working under her aegis.
The setting was simple and elegant. The hall was decorated with vast arrangements of flowers set by designer David Monn providing an atmosphere of beauty but at the same time reverently somber. In the center of the large black screen at the back of the stage, it just said in white: Nora Ephron. |
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Most men wore dark jackets (although Eli Zabar came in his white kitchen duds), and the women dressed simply. Memorials involving celebrities, especially are often remarkable not so much because of the recollections and encomiums spoken of the departed, but because of the bold face names attending. Crowds gather outside for a looksee of that. Nora’s guest list made that observation also.
Because I didn’t know her, I did not know what drew people to her, or how and what they felt about her. She and her husband Nick Pileggi have been prominent in New York and the Hamptons for many years. They were both celebrities, respected for their work, and Nora was a well known wit whose stories and films could make you laugh. I knew that from her writings and her famous films.
Nora had grown up in Los Angeles, in Beverly Hills, where her parents Phoebe and Henry Ephron were a screenwriting team, and successful playwrights, in the 1940s through the late 1960s. Phoebe Ephron died in 1971 at 57. Her husband outlived her by 21 years, dying in 1992. The Ephrons’ success took them into the areas of producing also.
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| Henry Ephron, with a portrait of himself and Phoebe in the frame behind him. Photo by Mary Ellen Mark. |
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It should be noted that in the era in the town in which Nora grew up, screenwriters were regarded differently than they are today. Although fairly well paid, the studio system ruled the industry, and writers were not peers of stars or directors or producers. They were often described as “lowly” in ironic self-mocking by even themselves. A woman like Irene Mayer Selznick, daughter of Louis B. and first wife of David (then in his heyday), once remarked to friend who had invited a well known screenwriter to her dinner party, “but why would you have him, he’s only a writer.”
Not exactly a caste system, it was a well defined hierarchy run by moguls. The Ephrons, despite their success, their Beverly Hills residence, and their friendships with the famous, were nevertheless “writers.” Nora, the child grew up in those ancient days, and had the intelligence and sensitivity to be aware of her parents reality by the time she was a young girl.
She was also brought up in the style of her parents’ generation where children were expected to progress, to make something of themselves, to pay attention, to respect elders, and to work hard. Her mother’s advice to a career was “work is everything.”
Nora’s parents, particularly her mother, became alcoholic in middle age. Nora had written about it with brutal candor, admitting that it was very difficult to comprehend or tolerate at times, but nevertheless paying tribute to her mother as both a parent and a professional.
Nora the child not only survived that, but came away to make her own life, in the same business, even more successfully in every way. Furthermore, the world had changed not only for women, but also for screenwriters, far now from second tier. Upbringing, education (she went to Wellesley) and her parents’ lives were her assets whatever the liabilities. Nora herself had the wit to turn it all into a life, a lifestyle, a parenthood, sisterhood, wife and friend, and a business. There might be other words for it, but the only one that comes to mind is genius.
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| Martin Short arrives. Photo: Ilya S. Savenok, Getty Images |
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| Nora with Jacob Bernstein. |
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All of this was apparent to me when I sat down in Alice Tully Hall. I’d read it in her pieces, her book; heard it from her lips when she talked about herself publicly, and knew of course how highly regarded she was by her peers as well as her millions of fans.
Martin Short opened the program. He was amusing, yet serious, recalling her personality; how she would get involved with friends’ lives with care and advice, and assistance. He gave the impression of a woman deeply sensitive to others and naturally inclined almost like a Jewish mama to make things good.
He recalled how she consoled and comforted him after his wife Nancy died only two years ago. He also recalled how in conversation she could change the direction, no matter how serious with a declaration like “Hazelnuts are the trouble with Europe.” (Audience laughter)
After Short came Richard Cohen who met Nora many years ago, dazzled and was swept up by her into a whole new world of “thousands of friends” (hers). Cohen’s recounting of his friendship resembled Short’s except his experiences were a kind of education by a most amazing teacher. It was Nora who suggested to the then journalist Cohen that he should have his own column. The next thing he knew Ben Bradlee was offering him a column in the Washington Post and claiming it to be an idea that had come to him. Nora as an idea.
Cohen was followed by Norah’s son Jacob Bernstein, a journalist himself who again reconfirmed this personality who could play all roles – mother, daughter, friend, wife, director, producer, cook, hostess, gourmand. He told us a little bit more about Nora’s illness which was treated for a long time before it took a turn for the worse a few months ago.
Even in her last days in hospital, she never lost her interest or her talent to amuse, even while she lay there attached intravenously to life supply. Nor did she lose her motherliness, her friend-ness, her caring.
The multiple images presented were all of the same woman, evoking laughter rolling through the audience throughout, reminding the many who also had experienced them also. Mike Nichols followed Jacob Bernstein. His memories of Nora had the same serious tone describing the experience of her personality. Nichols had been a mentor in some ways, a partner in production with her in other ways, as well as an admirer of her talent, and a friend.
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When her sister Delia Ephron came to the rostrum, looking very much like a sister of Nora (there were four sisters), the mood changed just slightly. For example, recalling Martin Shorts story about the “hazelnuts”– Delia said “Nora got that line from me…” and the audience again broke into laughter. Many were no doubt personally reminded of Nora’s ability to “take from the best” and make the most of it.
Nora’s son Max Bernstein recalled his mother with as much affection and amusement as his brother, yet differently, recalling her love of cooking (and eating), frequently engaging her son to try something “delicious.” All, again, presented the image of a woman who related with a self that accepted and included differences. And funny. The laughter in the room had increased. |
| Nora with Meryl Streep (Photo by Bruce Glikas – © 2009 Bruce Glikas – Image courtesy gettyimages.com) |
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Then came Meryl Streep who was difficult for me to hear because she has that lovely soft voice and I am hard of hearing. However, she began by referring to the way Nora talked. The way she moved her hands in expressing herself. Wearing a black dress and white gloves, Streep turned the description into an almost pantomime, beautifully timed by this brilliant actress. The hand movements/expressions – many of which provoked laughter – were doing the talking. She also mentioned how Nora “stole” a lot of her material.
She said this in a way that was underlined with so much affection and admiration (and sadness at the loss), that you understood another aspect of the woman’s Artistry. This was not just humor. These were components that accommodated a multitude of relationships that the woman had. This child of a uncommon but nevertheless emotionally complex childhood adapted to life and stability by taking it all in, and then giving it back out, as if she had subconsciously edited her reality to fit to a theme of survival by laughter, as if genetically predisposed."
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| Nora with Tom Hanks. |
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| Nora with Rosie O'Donnell. |
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Streep was followed by Rita Wilson and Tom Hanks. They stood next to each on the podium. Wilson announced that they were going to speak about “Nick and Nora” – about Nora’s marriage to Nick Pileggi and what it was like and what it meant to her and what it seemed like to others.
Wilson was doing all the talking, recalling their friends as wonderful host and hostess, at which point Hanks who had said nothing, coughed a couple of times. You could think he was clearing his throat but the third time, it engaged Rita and the two “morphed” into a portrait of Nick and Nora together, describing the couple’s personalities by acting them out. Aside from the full heart of their performance, they re-affirmed another dimension of not only Nora but of the memorial itself.
By this time it was moving along quickly and there was a lot of laughter. This was a performance melded into a memory. Wilson and Hanks, charming and winning, and touching, like their Nick and Nora.
Then came Rosie. Rosie told us she was happy to do this because she wasn’t going to be speaking her own words, but Nora’s. She then went into the “reading” of “Purse,” from “Love, Loss & What I Wore,” the play Nora had written with Delia. Rosie delivered her lines so perfectly that there wasn’t a hint of reading, but rather the words came out as her own.
Another funny performance. It was about fixation women have with handbags. And the audience roared with laughter at the denouement. Finishing, Rosie pulled out a big tacky looking handbag from under the podium, put it over her shoulder and exited the stage.
The final speaker, JJ got up and identified himself, telling the many who knew him only by voice on the phone, as he was Nora’s assistant for 14 years. JJ introduced several tiny clips of Nora’s work, beginning with the Meredith ... scene from “When Harry Met Sally,” and ending with Streep and Stanley Tucci learning that Knopf was buying Julia’s cookbook in “Julie and Julia.” All Nora, all laughter, all touching.
And that was it. That was the show, the script, all planned and written and directed and produced by their adored friend Nora. Nora’s swan song. She wrapped it all up so deftly, so sensitively, so hilariously, giving you a full portrait of the woman known to so many sitting in Alice Tully Hall, 47 minutes from start to finish, from beginning with Martin Short, somber then laughter, then serious and amusing recollections, and then, outright laughter. “Always leave ‘em laughing,” the first phrase of a song by another great showman and legend George M. Cohan, written and published in 1903, “Always Leave ‘em Laughing when you say goodbye." Nora knew that one from childhood. We all did, So she did just that. Au revoir Nora Ephron, and thanks for the memory. |
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| Every program passed out contained a loose leaf of a recipe of Nora's favorites. I was told there were 22 recipes in all that guests received. |
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