We’re of course totally heartbroken at the death of Robin Williams and quite at a loss for words. For now, we’d like to outsource our tribute duties to our friend Howard Johnson, the biographer of Del Close and fellow Committee historian. Here’s his memorial.
Frank Rosenberg was The Committee’s business manager from ’65-67. He hosted us in his Marin County home to discuss the early days of The Committee, The Committee’s bar scene, and the difference between Michael Brown’s cuisine at the Committee Theater on Montgomery (really great) and Roland Pitschel’s french bread pizzas at The Committee’s Broadway space (not so great). We’re going for a full 360 degree view of The Committee, so it’s great to get the perspective of someone who worked in the front of the house. Thanks Frank!
During our visit with Committee friend/patron Maxwell Myers, we couldn’t help but notice a film reel in his Committee archives. Is it another copy of Session? Or the long sought after short The Creditors? Or is it film of a performance as yet unseen? We want it all. Can’t wait to see what’s in this thing.
We were so sad to hear that Garry Goodrow passed away this week. He is such an important piece of The Committee’s story, and while we did get some strong footage of him when he visited SF for last year’s reunion, we didn’t get enough. We look forward to learning more about him, and we will tell his story, but we can no longer get more from him firsthand and that, frankly, sucks.
Garry was an original member of The Committee. He was hired after some success with the Living Theater (he played a major role in the original stage production and film adaptation of Jack Gelber’s Beat era classic, The Connection). Alan Myerson originally wanted Alan Arkin. When Arkin was cast in a show on Broadway, he suggested Goodrow take his place.
If The Committee was a collective of comedian-activists, Garry embodied the role perfectly. He was on the streets as a leader/emcee for the Vietnam Day march in Oakland in 1965. He was a go-to emcee for every kind of counter-culture benefit and rock show throughout the sixties. In the early seventies, when Jane Fonda started the Fuck The Army (FTA) tour, Garry signed on to replace the overworked, burned-out Elliott Gould. Lindsay Goss, a graduate student who is studying the FTA tour, provided us with a package of research that she compiled, which included this gem from the May 10, 1971 edition of the Monterey Peninsula Herald:
Goodrow, formerly of the San Francisco cabaret troupe The Committee, listened to a jet taking off from Monterey Peninsula airport and commented “In many places in the world, that sound means you have to take cover, you have to get your children in this bomb shelter or they’ll be bombed or strafed or napalmed. That’s why I’m in the show. You have to do something.”
After The Committee, Goodrow was cast in National Lampoon’s Lemmings, the pioneering stage show that brought him together with John Belushi, Chevy Chase, Christopher Guest, Tony Hendra, Sean Kelly, and others. With that show, he achieved a track record that no one could really match at the time.
Of course he kept playing hard in his later years, reuniting with old friends in Sills & Company shows and spots on WKRP in Cincinnati, and establishing a solid career as a character actor in Dirty Dancing and other films throughout the eighties. Garry lived the role of a comedian embedded in the world, reacting to current events, and simply giving a shit; and that inspires us. The 21st century needs more activists like Garry Goodrow. We hope, as we help tell the story of Garry and The Committee, that more people start to give a shit, do something about it, and start to live in the world.
The man was an original and he is missed.
– Sam Shaw & Jamie Wright
(Michael Dare polaroid used with permission.)
Rob Reiner on Sound Opinions, discussing The Committee and the intersection of comedy and rock’n roll. We love this program.
#TheCreditors #summertime #Myers #Pitschel #Imagination #Wainwright #HipHun #MusicScene #DukeStroud #GodsEye #Danny DeMarco
A gem from Ruth Silveira‘s scrapbook. Thanks for your time, Ruth!!
In Hollywood, charging up for our interview with the amazing Barbara Bosson.
Ed Greenberg told us that soon after the longform improvisational theater breakthrough called Harold was named, Del Close said that Frank Zappa’s “Brown Shoes Don’t Make It” was a “musical Harold”. Here’s a review of the song from allmusic.com:
“Brown Shoes Don’t Make It” is considered Frank Zappa’s first real masterpiece. This seven-and-a-half-minute song takes the form of a suite of short musical snippets of varying styles (from swing to contemporary classical) held together by the “story.” It first appeared on the 1967 LP Absolutely Free. It is the best of the album’s “underground oratorios.”… The story of this condensed two-hour musical (that’s exactly how it feels) addresses social hypocrisy. The piece begins by a cynical praise of the lower obedient suburban lifestyle: “Be a loyal plastic robot/For a world that doesn’t care,” “Shine on your shoes and cut your hair,” “Be a jerk and go to work.” But those advocating this anti-freak lifestyle, so to speak, appear to be a lot more deviant than the people not following “the rules”: “A world of secret hungers” hide in the offices of those telling everyone what to do. The song then follows one of these political rulers who fantasizes about a 13-year-old girl (“Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup/And strap her on again”). The song ends by mocking suburban politics, as the repressed pervert claims “Life is such a ball I run the world from City Hall.” The studio version was striking back in 1967, going beyond any pop song recorded before, but lack of time and budget left it a bit sloppy: sections aren’t edited perfectly, the band does not always land sharply on the right cues.