In the ensuing years, some of the luster of the

(in that wonderful voice) would say: “…At Madison Square Garden last night, the world’s finest amateur dancers competed in this year’s Harvest Moon Ball.” The Paramount News’ “Eyes and Ears” of the world/camera, would then focus on the “all-around” winners pivoting around the floor.

Years later, when Ed Sullivan had his television show, he never forgot from whence he came, always giving the young dancing hopefuls some national exposure. It brought The Ball right into the living rooms of every home in North America – for what TV set was not tuned into “The Toast of the Town” on Sunday evenings – the Ed Sullivan Show’s original.

And now, the most famous amateur dance competition in the world is but a memory. But “just one more time,” I would like to see the young dancers – with stars in their eyes – promenading to the dance floor, with the band playing the Harvest Moon theme…and Ed Sullivan – unforgettable – as Master of Ceremonies saying:
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we have a real-ly, real-ly great “shew” for you this evening…”


Roseland – Dance City

Of all the great events held at Roseland, planned or accidental during my time, three come to mind.
On a “blistering” hot night in June of 1967, a standing room, over-flow crowd of 2500, including friends and colleagues from all over the USA, were present to honor John Lucchese.
Recovering from a near-fatal, head-on collision of four months earlier, the night was really a long, over-due tribute to honor Ballroom’s “top” figure.
It was a typical dance event, with entertainment and general, social dancing. The show featured two popular dance teams: Terrace & Elita plus Norton & Patricia. Norton acted as emcee, introducing dignitaries from the Dance Educators of America and other notables, each one recalling fond memories of earlier times.
The big moment finally came with Mr. Brecker himself, stepping to the stage to make the introduction.
“…And now ladies and gentlemen” – Roseland’s imperial owner announced – “ Mr. John Lucchese.”
Well, the introduction tore the house down.
What happened next tells so much about John Lucchese. With the applause mounting to a crescendo, he left his crutches at his table and walked, unaided, to the stage.
A month later, with scars he carries to this day, he was dancing as well as ever.

A native New Yorker, John Lucchese discovered dancing at a very early age; favoring the lindy, foxtrot, peabody and the popular Latin dances of the times. By 1937, still not twenty years old, he was considered a “top” all-around dancer.
Like so many from his noble generation, WW II interrupted his life, spending five years in the U.S. Army.
After the war, his reputation and popularity reached new heights. He was the biggest name in the business when I came on the scene in the early 50s, a distinction – although retired – he carries to this day!
There is an almost reverence about him that defies description. I recall a studio social many years ago.
Halfway through the evening, with the music blasting, the crowd swinging…a figure entered the room. The crowd stirred…immediately, he was surrounded by well-wishers. He stood there smiling, affable, aware of his presence, ready to give advice or answer questions.

Before Ed McMahan would make it a household expression, some one said: “Here’s Johnny…”
As a performer, he appeared in clubs and theaters throughout the USA and in several television shows and movies.
He’s been to the altar three times: His first wife was dazzling show girl and former beauty queen – Jo Nobles.
Bonnie Jones was next; a stunning brunette who he trained, becoming a very good dancer in her own right. Then there was Rose…

Rose Garzia was an outstanding Harvest Moon Ball dancer, winning the Rumba division with her partner Freddie Friedman in 1963.
Tall and stately, she instantly adapted to Lucchese’s “social style,” becoming his best partner. But dancing soon became just an avocation for her. A professional woman, she was content to limiting her dancing to social gatherings.

To mention every honor and award bestowed on Lucchese during his long, eventful career would take more than these few pages. But there are two distinct honors that can best summarize his career. In the 1970s, an annual ballroom award was to be presented to Ballroom’s premier “personality” – The Vernon & Irene Castle Award.
The first award as presented to John Lucchese at Roseland. He was also presented with a letter of commendation from Irene Castle, having performed in her honor on her birthday.
The other (and one I’m sure he is justifiably proud of) was being selected as National Ballroom Director of the National Council of Dance Teachers Organizations of the United States (NCDTO).

There is no question, that throughout my career, I was in awe of the man and his many faceted achievements: superb dancer, teacher, performer, musician, choreographer, administrator, lecturer and author.
He is also my dear friend.
Imperial…? Sure. But a true and “giving” one!


“For Finer Dancing”

Every ten weeks, students of the “Phillips” chain of studios would receive a mailed schedule of coming classes.
Prominent, under the studio’s name was the “Phillips” slogan – in italics, known to tens of thousands (at its peak) of dance fans, in and around the “Greater” New York area.

With a budding reputation – enhanced by his outstanding performance in the 1939 Harvest Moon Ball, winning the “all-around…” with partner Margo Sage, John Phillips opened his Manhattan studio the following year, achieving instant success.
In time – with a staff of personally trained teachers – he was able to form his own “private groups” of advanced students, who were among (professional or non-professional) the finest social dancers on the New York scene.
Those “elite” groups, closed at a designated number, studied with him for years. “Newcomers” desiring to be admitted were told: “Forget it…the only way you’ll be admitted is if someone dies.”

For whatever reason, he disdained the “spotlight,” did not enjoy performing, content to do an extemporaneous, “ad-lib” number – usually late in the evening, after having a few…under the eyes of his adoring fans. Such a performance, as in the scenario above, was reprised…one night at Roseland. Of the three Broadway ballrooms, no question, Phillips favored Roseland. I have no memory of ever seeing him at Palladium, which is odd, because he loved Latin – particularly mambo, which suited him well. On a “special” night at Roseland, with the stars of the Palladium present, John Phillips gave an “ad-lib” performance that left everyone in the immediate area spellbound. Seated in the “dancer’s corner,” he was comfortable, chatting, imbibing…

Finally, late in the evening, he stepped out on the floor. Versatile Argueso (the house band) finishing the ballroom set swung into a mambo, when it happened…
Before the mamboniks could get on the floor, Phillips had the attention of the corner.
For reasons of their own, the Palladium stars remained at their tables. Perhaps they were “spent” – they’d been dancing all night, but I like to think it was respect.
The next two/three minutes, all present at “the corner,” were witness to a skillful exhibition of classic ballroom, applied to mambo, as one dazzling move followed another.
Returning to his table, he smilingly acknowledged the nods of approval from all present, including the mamboniks.

Phillips performance at Roseland, in front of the Palladium stars, was kept going for weeks after by a gentleman I knew only by his first name – Ruby.
A lawyer, Ruby was a staunch “Phillips’ supporter,” a small, “tiny” man, with a commanding presence and garrulous manner of speech. He would dispute any comparison of Phillips with contemporary peers – adamantly – after all, he was a lawyer.
During my time, Lucchese and Phillips always ran in a tandem, but who was in the lead. Most (myself included) say Lucchese, but Ruby’s answer would be an unequivocal: “John Phillips, hands down.


A Regular Guy

The glare from the shinning stars of Roseland: Lucchese and Phillips, obscured the glitter of a third – Vic Wilson, whose major achievement and lasting legacy was his dominance of a dance – the lindy-hop.
Vic was a small, slight man, with the angular build of a Fred Astaire, but what he lacked in size, he more than compensated for with talent, wit and style.
Funny and loquacious, a natural comedian, he was a popular and sought after figure on the “studio circuit,” (ballrooms, studios and clubs).

Vic became disenchanted with the Dance World, leaving New York in the mid 1960s, but the little guy left his mark.
Let me tell of one unforgettable incident that occurred during his New York “heyday.” It happened at Roseland – long ago.
At the time, Roseland was in the practice of “honoring” big name stars from show business. The night in question, the star to be honored was none other than Broadway/Hollywood legend – Ray Bolger.

At the expected hour, the ballroom buzzed with excitement as Ray Bolger and his entourage arrived.
His reserved table was at “ringside” near the dancer’s corner. Unbeknownst to the celebrated star of “show biz,” an opening “flash-act” (Vic Wilson) was getting-his-act together.
Argueso was finishing the Latin set.
The timing was perfect!
After a quiet opening number, the band picked up on a “jump lindy.” Everyone at the corner knew what was coming, those that weren’t dancing went to the single seats, behind the adjoining rail – the show was about to begin.

Watching Ray Bolger on the screen and especially when being interviewed on television, he always gave the impression that he was a kind, open and generous person. As one of the hosts of the enormously popular TV show “That’s Entertainment,” I enjoyed his passionate, garrulous commentary of the show. He came across as a regular guy.” As an old swabby and hardhat I can appreciate that; the kind of a guy I could sit down and share a beer with. Well, what followed that evening confirmed my impression of him.

Vic was still in his prime then and in rare form that night.
A favorite step; of ballroom dancers is the “grapevine” (moving sideward, alternately crossing back and forward).
But no one ever did it quite like Vic. He had the smallest feet of any male dancer I’ve ever known, and when he went into his grapevine…well, they just “took off,” with very little motion from his upper body – de-de-de-de…

At the table, the Great Man turned, hands on+ the rail, watching…Vic did a cross-over, his Astaire-like legs crossed tight. Quickly unwinding, he went into a multiple spin – six – coming out perfectly so as not to upset his partner (who was enjoying the show, like everyone else).
The corner then belong to Vic, the others, giving him space, moved on. One scintillating move followed another, as the crowd urged him on, their eyes equally drawn to the nearby table where a booming voice erupted: “Bravo! Bravo!”
He was on his feet, without restraint, applauding wildly – the great Ray Bolger!
The crowd was stunned, so were his companions, seated and watching, amused as this celebrated star, who was there to be honored, was himself, honoring a small-time, but nonetheless, great “artist.”
Beaming broadly, he called Vic over to the rail, complimenting and shaking hands with him.

Anyone present that night, would have “gone” for Vic – and Ray Bolger too.* It did not surprise me that he would be so magnanimous in his praise. He just came across as – a regular guy.

End part 3

© *This story and others to follow are excerpts from my first book “Diary of a Street Dancer.” My email number for anyone interested in a copy is: wdarian23@att.net

06-Sep-2010

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