- AP
- Jonathan Winters
Maria Tallchief: The ballet world mourns the death of a prima ballerina and one of Balanchine’s greatest muses. I remember that in 1986 her Chicago City Ballet—a company that collapsed a year later—produced Prokofiev’s Cinderella in the Auditorium Theatre. The children of Chicago tried out for parts; my daughter Molly danced the important role of a ladybug. We had an early, light dinner at the Artist’s Cafe in the Fine Arts Building and then sauntered over to the Auditorium for the performance. It’s as fine a memory as parenthood can offer, and I’ll be grateful to Maria Tallchief forever.
Jonathan Winters: Said the New York Times, in its April 13 obit: “He thrived when he could ad-lib, fielding unexpected questions or pursuing spontaneous flights of fancy. In other words, he made a brilliant guest, firing comedy in short bursts, but a problematic host or actor.” Winters made a brilliant guest when a host like Jack Paar turned the show over to him.
One night Paar invited Bob and Ray onto his show along with Winters. It must have seemed like a good idea. All three of them had a genius for making things up. But ad-libbing isn’t the same as improvising. An ad-libber takes over the stage. An improviser shares it. Bob and Ray, whose humor was far drier than Winters’s and wasn’t geared to flank speed, improvised brilliantly with each other, but with Winters they could hardly get a word in edgewise. And because Bob and Ray were closer to my heart, I didn’t laugh at Winters that night. It might have been the only time I didn’t.
