"Though the leaves of memory rustle but faintly in the
twilight of one's life, there are those that stick like glue and would not be
driven away. In my life, this happens when I see certain fruits which I have
come to associate with people dearest to me and places of my childhood [...]
Lychees
and Mario Lanza, I cannot remember one without the other. My stepmother simply
loved the tenor that was Mario Lanza. Whenever a movie that starred him was
showing at the Ideal or Ever or Avenue theaters at Rizal Avenue, she would nudge
me and say that we were going to Manila, a trip that took us a good one and a
half hours from Biñan via the Zapote Road because there was no expressway then.
We would first pass by the Chinese groceries along Quiapo where she would buy
two bundles of fresh lychees to eat inside the theater. Of course, I ate more
than she did because I took advantage of her being deeply engrossed in the
singing of "The Student Prince."
Fresh lychees have remained one of my
favorite fruits not only because I like its sweetness but also because I
associate it with the cultural persona of this woman who became my surrogate
mother [...]"
Here are three excerpts from the book “Behind the 'Colored' Sign – A Journey to Success”by Samuel L. Chatam
[…] „Jack, it’s about time for your radio program,” Mother said.
I looked at the clock on the kitchen stove. It was almost seven-thirty. That meant Mario Lanza was about to begin his twenty-minute show. He was the greatest American tenor I had ever heard, and the only one with his own radio show. His voice was rich and full. He made musical sounds that I could not believe. He hit high notes that sounded rich and colorful. As far as I was concerned, he practiced with angels – his voice was heavenly.
I placed my chair in front of the radio as close as possible. I turned the radio up so Mother and Daddy Buddy could hear it too. Mario Lanza always sang with a big orchestra. I had learned about the instruments from our fourth and fifth grade music books. It was interesting to hear which instrument took the lead as each musician took his turn glorifying the vocal.
Mario began each show with “Be My Love.” As he sang, I felt full of joy. His voice was my surprise at the beginning of each week because he brought freshness to the radio. As I listened to his exalting “Maria, Maria,” I wondered if the powerful sense of happiness and joy that his show created in me would be the way I would always feel in heaven. He drove dull cares away, and he made my heart blossom with happiness. His show was like being caught up in a shower of bliss where joy reigned supreme, and music massaged the soul. By the end of the show I knew I had been invigorated by the splendor and warmth of a rich vocal talent.
I stood and walked into Daddy Buddy’s room, stretched both arms out as if I were flying, and said. “Daddy Buddy, how did you like that!” He smiled and moved his lips but no sound came out, however, I knew he was happy. I leaned down and hugged him, and then got ready for church. The beautiful voice, along with the string, wind, and percussion instruments would continue to entertain my mind long after the show ended […].
[…] Sunday morning was always very special because Mario Lanza gifted us with a radio visit. He christened each Sunday morning with his alluring, magical voice. Whenever his radio show came on, Daddy Buddy, Mother and I would stop our activities and listen for the full twenty minutes. We were together in Daddy Buddy’s bedroom: Mother’s favorite spot was the rocking chair. Daddy Buddy was in bed, and I liked sitting in the straight-back, cane- bottom chair.
After his musical introduction of “Be My Love,” Mario Lanza greeted his listeners with a verbal introduction, and then he broke into song. This week he opened with “Nessun Dorma” by Puccini. It was another brilliant musical manifestation of God’s gift. He ended the program by thrilling us with his vocal rendition of “The Lord’s Prayer.”
Mario Lanza brought a special blessing to the world through his celestial and gloriously inspirational vocals. His range stimulated expectancy and caused wonderment. The clarity of his voice reminded me of clear crystal. Without a doubt, he brought a slice of heaven to our lives. What an extraordinary way to begin the week! Mother said, “That’s the best program on radio, and I am so glad we found it. Now, it’s time for us to get ready for church […].
[…] After breakfast Mother said, “Now that we’ve filled our stomachs, let’s turn the radio on and fill our spirits.”
“Great. I am so ready for good music, “I said. It was five minutes before the Mario Lanza Show. Mother put the dishes away and went to the bedroom. I went to my bedroom, turned the radio on, and climbed into bed. I became relaxed and fully expectant.
When his theme song “Be My Love” began playing, I was captivated. It was immediately followed by a magnificent presentation of “Arrivederci Roma.” After the commercials, he sang “Santa Lucia” and finally closed the show with an energetic and compelling rendition of “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” The program filled my spirit, and the surplus joy that remained after his program ended would last throughout the week [...]
Note from Steff: Actually, Mario never sang “Nessun dorma” and “Arrivederci Roma,” in the Coke Shows, and he never sang “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and “Santa Lucia” in the same radio broadcast. Please correct me if I am wrong.
Steff
The following excerpt is from the book “It’s Been on My Mind – Defining Myself Through Stories and Personal Essays” by Carolyn Schwartz
[…] But never was my infatuation with celebrities more fervent than when I fell head over heels in love with Mario Lanza. In fact, this tenor became a bit of an obsession with me. At home, at school, when I went to bed at night, Mario stoked the fantasies in my mind. I went to see each of his movies – That Midnight Kiss, The Toast of New Orleans, and The Great Caruso two or three times. To watch and hear him belt out his powerful love songs made me feel faint.
Mario came onto the Hollywood scene in the early fifties. He was a wild Philadelphia punk with an “attitude.” (By this time, surliness in a guy turned me on!) Mario was also drop-dead gorgeous and sang even better than Caruso. He was determined to be the greatest opera singer the world had ever known. Practically overnight, he became not only that, but Hollywood’s hottest leading man as well.
I read everything I could about my hero – about his reel life and his real life. I knew that he’d married his childhood sweetheart, Betty. That they had four adorable kids. I knew each kid’s name and birthday and what grade they were in school. I kept a scrapbook with photos just of them. I filled another with photos of Mario and his leading ladies, and another with scenes from his supposedly idyllic home life.
Soon I was mentally inserting myself into the happy scene. In my la-la land I invented roles for myself that put me into Mario’s life. I started small. For example, I imagined myself as his accompanist. Or I was a nanny to his kids.
But later, I set my goals higher. Having already memorized the lyrics to the duets Mario sang with his divas, I dreamed that I auditioned for and was chosen as the newest and best of his romantic partners. Of course, behind the scenes, the two of us fell madly in love. But I was torn with guilt, knowing that I was the cause of Mario’s cheating on Betty and the breakup of his perfect family. So for my beloved and me, star-crossed lovers, I never created a bedroom scene.
What a damn shame! That event could’ve ramped up my reveries for years! Sadly, at the bight height of my passion for Mario, fate intervened, and cold, hard reality set in. By the mid-fifties, press reports indicated that my hero was starting to self-destruct. He was gaining enormous amounts of weight, which was bad for his heart. He was having temper tantrums on movie sets and being fired for violent outburst. He was womanizing. There was talk about drug use.
I was totally disillusioned by the time my heartthrob died at the tender age of thirty-eight. The exact circumstances of his death were hush-hush. Unlike today, the media stopped short of slinging dirt about celebrities’ private lives. For years, all I could do was speculate about my darling’s way-too-early demise.
I was sixteen by this time: older, wiser and ready for some “real” love life […]
It’s been a while that I posted a story, so here finally is a new one:
It’s from the book “Forbidden Dreams” by Leonid Prymak and tells about a Russian violinist, Vladimir, who falls in love with Lara. When he goes to America to follow his career, he has to leave Lara behind in Moscow.
“Vladimir kissed Karen and headed home. He had to change into a suit for a day show. As he was driving, Vladimir began thinking aloud, “Day number two, and how many more of you. What will the coming days hold for me?”
The sound of the song “Be My Love” appeared in Vladimir’s head and as if through a special time tunnel it moved him back in time into his disturbing past. He found himself sitting in the hard wooden seat. He was in the popular movie theatre in the downtown of Moscow. Lara was sitting next to him and he was holding her hand. It was the famous American film Toast of New Orleans with the great American tenor Mario Lanza and Kathryn Grayson. The scent of Lara’s perfume was penetrating Vladimir down to the depths of his soul. He thought of how fantastic and magical it was that he was reliving his past again. He felt as if he was indeed part of that “live” moment from the past, the scene where Pepe Duval – Mario Lanza- appeared on the screen. He was singing “Be My Love.” The song possessed one of the greatest, most passionate melodies ever written by a very famous Hollywood composer of Russian origin, Nicholas Brodszky. The only difference was that now Vladimir knew every English word of that song. He turned his head toward Lara and whispered into her ear the Russian translation of the song as it was sung.
Be my love, for no one else can end this yearning.
This need that you and you alone create.Just fill my arms the way you filled my dreams,
The dreams that you inspire with every sweet desire.
Be my love, and with your kisses set me burning.
One kiss is all I need to seal my fate.
And hand in hand we’ll find love’s promised Land.
There’ll be no one than you for eternity if you will be my love.
He felt as he sang this song to her as if he was in possession of Mario Lanza’s voice; it was his and Lara’s favorite movie.
This very moment Lara was so close to him, but as he was slightly pulled away from the scene, he realized that it was only an illusion, which an unknown force was so vividly creating.
He was desperately trying to hold on to this living image. “you filled my dreams,” whispered Vladimir as he pulled over his car at his home. He parked the car, closed his eyes and didn’t move, trying not to disturb his memory of Lara.
Painfully, he felt as if the scene was over and Lara was gone. It was just another of his daydreams to which he clung. He was sitting all alone in his car. Suddenly he felt very cold and very tired. He slowly got out of the car and walked to his apartment. As he was opening the door he silently aksed himself again, “What will the future hold for me?”
Suddenly he saw a flash and a picture of Lara and him floating in space. He felt as if his energy was being drained. He walked into his apartment and sat down for a minute. His eyes moved to his violin. It was inviting him to share his sorrow. He didn’t want to lose Lara again. He opened his case and took out his violin. He raised it and put it gently under his chin. He felt as if his eyelids were closed by some heavy weight. He gently struck the strings and heard the melody of Lara singing from Doctor Zhivago. It filled the room.
His heart was aching as he played. He could not stop and so it was “Be My Love.” He was playing it for Lara and felt that it was his special letter to her, which was telling her how much he loved and missed her. He started it very softly from the lower to the upper register. Now it was in a high note. His violin was crying and screaming at the same time. It was shaking and shivering in his hands from the intense violent vibrato. He felt salt on his lips. He was crying through his violin.
There was no life left in his body. He lay down on his sofa hoping that he could get a good, short rest to restore his energy, which he needed before the performance. As he was drifting into sleep, he felt a presence near him. He felt as if he was gently touched, and a feeling of warmth and peacefulness entered his body. When he awoke and looked at his watch, he realized he only slept for a very short time. He felt enormous energy, as if he had slept for a full twenty hours.”
It’s a miracle,“ he thought, getting up from the sofa and trying to recall what happened to him before he collapsed into his deep sleep. He had a hard time recalling what happened, as if someone had erased it on purpose. “I must have an angel,” he continued in his thoughts, as he walked into the kitchen to make something cold to drink to satisfy his incredible thirst.”
Steff
Hi Joe and Derek,
Strangely, I started with "'A vucchella," "Vesti la giubba" and "Drink, Drink, Drink." I was never so much in "Be My Love," but have to say that it was an incredible good "starter" for the movie "The Toast of New Orleans."Incidentally, yesterday, on German TV, they repeated a short interview with the Czeck singer Karel Gott (I don't know if this name does mean anything to you - though I learned that he even performed in Las Vegas many, many years ago). Being asked who inspired him, his answer was: Mario Lanza, because, despite a classical musical education, he was THE cross-over artist in the late 1950s). I see that Karel Gott recorded and album in 1974 ("Heut ist der schönste Tag in meinem Leben") on which he sang "Be My Love," "If I loved You," Musica Proibita," "Non ti scordar di me" (the latter one in German, I think) and "Here in My Heart," the song that Mario was to record but refused to do in favour of Al Martino.