All My Life (15 page)

I remember breaking down in our pediatrician’s office one day because I was worried my children were somehow suffering for my occasional absences. The pediatrician could see how upset I was. He looked me right in the eyes and said, “I’ve got a daughter about your age in med school. I would never tell her not to dream her dreams, and give up on everything she wants to be and can be, simply because she was born female. Your children are wonderful. They are flourishing, and if I ever see those things changing, I will tell you and we will figure out what to do from there.”

Those were the perfect words at the perfect time. Hearing the doctor share his story about his own child really took the pressure off of me to go forward with confidence that I was a good mother. I didn’t have to give up my dreams and such an important part of who I am in order to answer this most important part of who I am. There were ways to negotiate so I could be an actress and be there for my children, too.

So when my contract came up for renewal, I made sure to put some restrictions in my new agreement that guaranteed that I wouldn’t miss the big events in my children’s lives. I actually negotiated their first day of school off, their birthdays, and the ability to take blocks of time whenever they were going through a major change. I am told I was the first actress to get these clauses added to her contract at the network. The network executives relentlessly teased me about this, but I didn’t care. I believe they supported me and thought it was really the right thing to do, but nobody had ever done it before me, so they had some fun teasing me. And, ABC was great to help me. I was and will always be a mother first.

When I was home, I was fully home. I drove in a car pool, was their class mother, attended school plays or sporting events, and remained an integral part of their daily lives. My children always knew I was happy to be there with them. I don’t think they ever felt like I would have rather been somewhere else, doing a movie, play, All My Children, or any other outside interest. That belief was totally confirmed when Liza came to me one day and said, “Mommy, you are with us more than a lot of mothers are. They’re out playing tennis, having lunches, running errands, and doing stuff, while you come home and pick us up from school, make our lunch, and are here when we get home.”

Hearing Liza say this to me made every moment I found for my children worthwhile because I knew in the deepest part of my heart and soul that my children knew how much I loved them.

And at the times I wasn’t able to be there, Helmut and Frida, our longtime nanny who has been with my family for thirty-two years, picked up where I left off. Frida has been an enormous part of why I could keep doing what I do as an actress and still raise my children. She never lived in with our family, as she had three boys of her own and went home at night to care for them. When my children were young, Frida was at the house primarily during the days and at times when I was at work. As my career really began to take off, Frida, God bless her, took pity on me and started taking care of all of us. She kind of became my wife—and everyone needs a wife. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for my children and family. I always knew my children were in loving hands, and at the same time, Frida never tried to be a substitute parent. I was and am so lucky to have her. As Hillary Clinton so wisely put it, “It takes a village!”

Annie Get Your Gun

As an actress, I have known many times throughout my career when I’ve had to take a step back and recognize how blessed my life has been for having the opportunity to play a character such as Erica Kane. Even with that great success, I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I had followed Mr. Weyand’s advice and auditioned for the John Houseman Theater after graduating college instead of taking the job with All My Children. I’ve never looked back on my decision with even so much as an ounce of regret, but every now and then, an opportunity presents itself that leaves me wondering what if?

In the summer of 1999, my then-agent Sylvia Gold of ICM received a call from Barry and Fran Weissler, two of Broadway’s biggest and best producers who were the dynamic team behind many hit shows, including Grease, Chicago, and Fiddler on the Roof, just to name a few. The Weisslers were calling to see if I had any interest in playing Annie Oakley in Annie Get Your Gun on Broadway. They told me that the star of their play, the fantastic and talented Bernadette Peters, was leaving the show. I was thrilled with the idea of acting on Broadway, especially in one of the greatest roles ever written and in an Irving Berlin musical. It was absolutely a dream come true.

If I agreed to take on the role, however, I wanted to be completely certain of two things. First, I wanted to know that I could play the part. And second, I had to be satisfied that I was worthy of it—not just for myself, but for the company of actors I would be joining. Taking on a role that Bernadette Peters had made uniquely her own was a daunting task. I felt a huge responsibility to make sure that I could fill those very big shoes she was leaving behind for me or anyone else to fill.

I vividly recall the Broadway shows I saw with my mother when I was younger as if those days were yesterday. I remember sitting in the theater dreaming that someday I would be the star up there on the stage—someone all the young girls sitting in the audience would dream about, too. I didn’t want to disappoint those children or somehow squash their dreams if somehow the famous television actress they came to see and might have admired wasn’t quite up to the part. There have been many times when actors and actresses are cast in roles for their box-office appeal. I give producers a lot of credit for thinking creatively and bringing in someone who the audience may not expect to see or may not readily associate with Broadway. It has boosted theater in every way, from attendance to recognition. But when these actors are not right for the part, sadly the critics can and often do kill the show. There’s a lot of power in the pen. If they write negative things about a particular performance, the entire company suffers for it. Worse than that, sometimes critics will write negative things without ever seeing the show because they automatically assume an established film or television actor has been brought in strictly for their marquee value and not for their talent. I didn’t want to be a name brought in to merely capture an audience. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was Annie Oakley.

I discussed this opportunity with everyone who was guiding my career, from my husband to my agent, Sylvia Gold. I was very lucky to be a client of Sylvia’s. She was a legend in the business and very much a part of helping me grow over the years. I loved Sylvia very much. And although she knew I enjoyed acting in the variety of television movies I had done, she and I never really talked about my desire to work on the stage before this opportunity arose. When we did explore the notion together, the fact that I hadn’t been trained as a singer (though I had some training as a stage actress and had done a little singing in my high school and college days) naturally came up. Sylvia was candid, saying she had some reservations about my taking the role.

I reminded Sylvia that I had participated in some large, onstage production numbers in recent years. I did Night of 100 Stars, the fabulous Alexander Cohen–produced extravaganza that took place at Radio City Music Hall in New York. It was a thrill to have met that challenge head-on and succeeded, though admittedly the bigger thrill at the time was watching from backstage as Ginger Rogers danced with Christopher Walken along with Gregory Hines and a number of other famous dancers from years gone by. It was a large production number that was highly choreographed and grueling. I stood in the wings after my own performance, simply mesmerized by theirs. I was pinching myself in disbelief that I was backstage at Radio City watching the legendary Ginger Rogers strut her stuff.

When they came offstage, Ginger threw herself into a chair and lay back, clearly satisfied with what she had done. Unfortunately, there had been a glitch with the taping and they had to do the whole thing one more time. Ginger let out a great big sigh and then got up to do it all again. I was so inspired by that.

Six weeks later, I was part of another equally phenomenal show at Radio City when ABC was entertaining its affiliates. It was the eighties and the show Dynasty was at the height of its popularity on the network. I was part of a fashion number that included many glamorous women, mostly from television. There were a number of film stars participating as well, including Claudia Cardinale, Dyan Cannon, Diahann Carroll, Joan Collins, and Linda Evans. A representative from the famed jeweler to the stars, Harry Winston, was backstage with millions of dollars’ worth of necklaces around his wrist and rings on his fingers, doling them out for each of us to wear onstage. We could choose whatever piece we wanted to borrow, as long as we understood that we had to give it back after the show. Claudia Cardinale had her own emeralds and diamonds. It was absolutely breathtaking to see her pull these remarkable pieces out of her purse. She put the earrings and necklace on with her white Yves Saint Laurent suit. She looked absolutely incredible.

I had to make an entrance onto the stage from up right and down the center, where I would be met by the Rockettes and chorus-boy dancers. During rehearsal, I talked with several of the dancers in the number and it turned out that the Rockettes and the boys were big fans, so they took me under their wing. I was grateful for their help because it was my first time on the enormous Radio City stage and I didn’t want to make a giant fool of myself. The chorus boys taught me how to walk that big stage walk and how to make an entrance. I was thrilled with their helpful tips. Boy, could they walk the walk!

When the show got started, I was standing stage left with Ruth Warrick and Lana Turner, waiting for Linda Evans to make her appearance. She was going to be raised up onto the stage by a hydraulic lift. Chorus boys were coming down beautiful stairs, where they would meet and then escort Linda down center to the mark she had to hit on the stage. While they sang and danced all around her, she stood motionless, looking like an absolute goddess. When the number was over, the lift lowered her back beneath the stage. The number was very glamorous and spectacular.

Lana Turner was peeking from behind the curtain, watching as Linda’s number went off without a hitch. She turned to me and said, “I have to follow that?”

Lana was next up. All she was supposed to do was walk across the stage. No chorus boys, no dancers, no hydraulics. Just Lana Turner walking. Let me tell you, when Lana Turner walked across that stage, she was fantastic. She owned it every step of the way.

As I spoke about these memorable experiences, Sylvia could tell I was passionate about theater and live performance. I suppose that I do light up when I think about life in the theater. After all, it is where all of my dreams began.

A few days later, Helmut recalled a chance meeting we had with Marvin Hamlisch at a benefit for the Bay Street Theatre in Sag Harbor, New York. The Bay Street Theatre is an old clapboard building with a wooden interior. It smells like old greasepaint, in the best sense of the word. It’s charming and wonderful in every way.

It was a lovely summer evening benefit made extra special by Marvin Hamlisch performing some of his most memorable hits in this very intimate setting. Just as we were leaving, Marvin’s wife, Terre Blair, came over to say hello. She asked if Helmut and I would like to come backstage to meet her husband.

“Marvin would love to meet you,” she said.

I had never met Marvin Hamlisch before that night. I had no idea that he would have the smallest interest in meeting me, let alone know who I am.

“He is a big fan of yours, Susan. He watches your show all the time,” she said.

I was very touched and delighted to have the chance to meet him. We went backstage, where we were greeted by Marvin, who was so warm and generous with his comments. We spoke about the current season of All My Children, and the story line in which Erica became addicted to prescription painkillers. The story had been done in real time. The network had arranged for me to speak with doctors and counselors at the Betty Ford Clinic so I could act the part in the most authentic way possible. It was a very successful story line that was also a tremendous challenge for me because it was way outside my comfort zone. I shared this information with Marvin as he and I spoke. I told him it was very important to me to make sure I showed a lot of respect for people who are really struggling with addiction. Marvin must have sensed the sincerity in all I was conveying, as he was very complimentary—going so far as to tell me I should definitely win that first Emmy for my acting throughout that particular story.

“Susan, I just want you to know that winning the Emmy has nothing to do with your talent. You are very talented and so it should happen for you soon,” he said.

Unfortunately, I didn’t win the Emmy that year, but it was nice to hear that someone thought I should. Here, he had just finished a wonderful performance and he somehow found the time and words to offer encouragement to me. I was very grateful for our meeting and for all of the nice things he had to say.

Not long after we met, Marvin called to ask if I’d like to appear onstage at a benefit he was doing for Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. He said he’d like to write a song for me to sing. I told him that I had no formal training as a singer. Thankfully, that small detail didn’t seem to sway his desire to write a musical number for me. In fact, he jokingly suggested that I could simply dance in the show with a group of handsome boys from the school if I liked. That, I said, I’d be happy to do!

A few weeks later, Marvin called to sing me the song he’d written to the tune of “Hello, Dolly!” I held the receiver to my ear and listened as the Marvin Hamlisch serenaded me over the phone. This was definitely one of those great life “pinch myself” moments.

Helmut and I went to Pittsburgh to join Marvin, where I did several performances with him onstage at Heinz Hall. I also had a wonderful opportunity to speak to some of the students at Carnegie Mellon, which was really terrific. I loved hearing their comments about the show, my performance, and anything else these kids wanted to ask me about or to share with me.

Marvin and I really bonded during that experience. Before heading back to New York, he turned to me and said, “Susan, if there’s anything I can ever do for you, please let me know.” I thought that was very generous. I had no plans to ever take him up on that offer—that is, until I began thinking about doing Annie Get Your Gun.

Helmut suggested I give Marvin a call to talk about the opportunity. I was too shy to reach out to him myself, so Helmut made the call for me. Although Marvin was in Scotland when we finally connected, he was an absolute doll. He told Helmut he would be back in New York in a few days and could make some time for us when he arrived that Sunday evening. He literally got off the plane and met with us that same night.

“Come to my apartment at seven-thirty. I’ll have Susan sing through some of the songs from Annie Get Your Gun and I’ll give her my honest opinion about whether I think she can do it or not,” Marvin told Helmut.

I thought this was a very good plan. I felt that Marvin was now a good enough friend to tell me to go for it or let it go. I was extremely nervous to sing for him, but I figured if I could get past Marvin Hamlisch, maybe I had a real shot at this part.

I was breathless as I rang the bell to Marvin’s apartment. I could hardly believe what I was about to do. The whole experience was surreal. We walked into his home, a beautiful prewar gem, where we were met by Marvin; his wife, Terre; and his lyricist. Marvin sat down at his piano and began to play through all of the music. I froze for a moment when I realized that Marvin would be the one accompanying me on the piano. I had been rehearsing but hadn’t yet sought out any professional training. I figured I would get more aggressive when and if Marvin gave me his approval.

I picked two songs to sing that I thought the Weisslers would want to hear. I selected “I Got Lost in His Arms,” a ballad, and “You Can’t Get a Man with a Gun,” a song I was certain they’d want to hear. Those two songs epitomized Annie Oakley. Strangely, when we first spoke about the role, Fran and Barry didn’t ask me to sing for them. I asked if they would allow me to. I didn’t think it was right to hire me for their musical without first hearing my voice. They eventually agreed that yes, it was a good thing for us to do. I wanted them to know what they were getting into if I were to accept the part.

I sang the selected music for Marvin as if I were auditioning for the very first time. It was very reminiscent of A Chorus Line, one of Marvin Hamlisch’s all-time greatest shows, except I was not in a theater trying out for a part with a slew of other hopefuls. No, I was all by myself singing in Marvin’s apartment.

When I finished, Marvin pulled his hands back and placed them on his lap. He looked up at me and said, “You can do this.”

I was thrilled and shocked all at once. I wanted to jump up and click my heels three times.

“And now I am going to go stand in the back of my apartment. I want you to sing to me again, knowing I am all the way back here,” he said.

Marvin’s lyricist sat down and began to play as I belted out song after song.

When I was done, Marvin slowly walked toward me. He looked me right in the eyes and said, “Oh yeah, you can definitely do this—if you really want to.” Marvin began to explain that it would be a heavy load, especially on top of my already overscheduled life and work obligations. He was very reassuring that if I really wanted this, I could most definitely do it.