COFFEE BREAK
Ladies and Gents,
It was one of those New York nights so wildly over scheduled, so bubbling with buzz, that I ran out of room in my trusty notebook and had to resort to scribbling on cocktail napkins, Playbills, and at least one dessert menu. Some of my notes look like hieroglyphics, others like foreign language shopping lists. So if I mistake a diva for a drag queen or quote Rodgers when I meant Kander, chalk it up to too many venues and too much Veuve.
The evening began at the Hammerstein Ballroom, where MCC Theater toasted the 25th anniversary of their beloved gala Miscast. This event, if you’ve somehow missed it, is a topsy-turvy cabaret where stars belt show tunes from roles they’d never be cast in—gender, age, and vocal range be damned.
Honoree Sheryl Lee Ralph was every inch the living legend, accepting her kudos with grace and glamour. Cole Escola gave a hilarious and high-heeled rendition of The Music Man’s “Iowa Stubborn” that had me spitting up my Kir Royale. And then, Nicole Scherzinger stepped onto that stage and owned “I Am What I Am” in a way that would’ve made George Hearn ditch his boa and bow down.
The room was dripping with talent—Nick Jonas, Aaron Tveit, Phillipa Soo, Megan Hilty, Jennifer Simard, and Jordan Fisher, to name a dazzling few—and MCC, true to form, raised a staggering sum.
Nicole (first-name basis now, obviously) was kind enough to offer me a lift to the next soirée—TDF’s golden jubilee for their legendary Costume Collection, held at Tao Downtown and themed “Costumes & Cocktails.” She gave a stirring speech about the power of costume design (notably, she wears only one costume in Sunset Blvd., and it doesn’t include a turban). The event was equal parts museum and mixer, with more iconic Broadway garb on display than one could possibly take in.
Just when I thought the night had reached its feathered peak, I dashed to the Kit Kat Club, where Orville Peck and Eva Noblezada were officially opening as the newest stars of the smoky, sumptuous revival of Cabaret. The after-party? A bacchanal of Berlin decadence and Broadway delight. Among the revellers: John Waters, Trixie Mattel, Jinkx Monsoon, Norman Reedus and Diane Kruger, Chappell Roan, Katya Zamolodchikova, Busy Philipps, Andrew Rannells, Conrad Ricamora, Jeremy Jordan, and my favourite supporting player from Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark “1.0,” Gideon Glick.
Also spotted: Spidey himself, Reeve Carney, beaming from the box and cheering on his new fiancée, the luminous Ms. Noblezada.
Over the weekend, Broadway previews began for Dead Outlaw. There I bumped into my old friend, PR impresario Sean Cassidy, resplendent in a cowboy hat and bandanna. “It’s the hit of the season,” he said, clinking my glass. (Well, it was a plastic souvenir tumbler, so more like “clunking my cup.”)
This Monday, we primped for the opening of John Proctor Is the Villain. Word is it’s a punchy, poignant exploration of power, patriarchy, and perception. Just the sort of thing to get the blood boiling and the group chats buzzing.
Tidbits from around town…
Saw MSNBC’s Chris Jansing scoping out antique fountain pens at CW Pencil Enterprise.
Caught Alan Cumming waltzing across West 72nd with his headphones on, mouthing lyrics and bopping along to a beat.
Spied Justin Theroux at The Snail, chowing down on a Caesar salad.
A toast of something sparkling to you and yours!
Kisses,
