I:
I
IRVIE3Q C2RLIN
( Continued)
grabbers are common, he has always
. personified the quiet, dedicated, gener
ous, decent man of success.
"Don't make me sound pompous," he
is fond of saying on rare occasions when
he grants interviews. "I am not a com
poser. I'm a song writer. That's all I ever
was. It's all I ever wanted to be."
Everlastingly modest, Berlin seems
perennially doubtful he will ever again
write a good song. "Irving looks wor
ried," a friend will say. "He must have
another hit!"
Trim, always natty, with a thin, raspy
voice called "tar-paper tenor," Irving
Berlin is a man you can't help liking on
sight. His shy smile, brown eyes, black
hair slightly streaked with gray, his
seamed face all make up a man with
virtually no detractors in the high
voltage currents of show business.
His second -floor office, next to New
York's Winter Garden Theater, says
this and more. There are photos and
autographed tributes from Generals
Mac Arthur, Eisenhower, and Marshall;
honorary music degrees from Bucknell
and Temple Universities.
There is a photo of President Eisen
hower presenting Berlin a special Con
gressional Gold Medal in 1955 for his
patriotic songs, an honor only George
M. Cohan had won before. The Presi
dent, who inscribed the picture "with
warm personal regards from his friend,"
is a long-time Berlin admirer who
especially likes his "Count Your Bless
ings Instead of Sheep."
There also is a spinet piano, with a
special gear-shift that automatically
switches to any key to compensate for
Berlin's inability to play in anything but
F sharp. He has two other "easy-shift"
pianos, one in his five-story home on
Beekman Place in New York, the other
in his country home in the Catskills.
Berlin's method of composing has
changed little through the years.
Neither music nor lyrics necessarily
comes first. He begins writing either
music or words.
Sometimes, if repeating an intriguing
melody makes a lyric occur to him, he'll
peck out the tune on the piano. More
often, because he can't read or tran
scribe music anyway, he'll compose the
song in his head, then retain it until an
arranger can write it down.
"His memory is fantastic," says Helmy
Kresa, a former Milwaukeean who
joined Berlin as an arranger 33 years
ago and now ' also is his professional
manager. "He can sing any song he has
ever written, both verse and chorus."
Berlin has phoned Kresa at midnight
with songs to be transcribed. Because
he's not bound to a piano, he composes
anywhere. Much of his 1946 Ethel
Mermen musical, "Annie Get Your
Gun," wfs corfteived as he strolled the
Atlfntic City Bofrdwalk!
IHlt sto&, one of Broadway's longest
riprrS( probfbly was Berlin's greatest
fMfi4trf tio of versatility. It included)
'3Vy 1$ oirful," "Anythi
(Dsns
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Today word is out that Berlin is
reading and discussing ideas for another
musical. "Ideas come easiest from situ
ations," he says. "I hate to get up in the
morning in an Army show, what could
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Berlin draws ideas from anywhere,
and his genius, according to Oscar
Hammerstein, is in "saying exactly what
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IN AQ STATES AND
Music Box Theater in the '20s, as house
theme he wrote, "Say It with Music."
Four of his finest love songs were in
spired by his wife, Ellin Mackay: "All
Alone," "What'U I Do," "Rememlr,"
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His own severest critic, Berlin pains
takingly polishes and revises music
and lyrics, shifting phras, sometimes
pigeonholing a numljfcr for yeft "GJJ
T
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Bles America," writttn in 19lSwfs put
aside for 21 years. 'There's No Busin
Li$e Show Businels" fii. was tabll,
but he restored it on Richfrd R)tigi
insislCe. "Ho Ift thft Qttn"
was published only after Rudy Vallee
introduced a companion piece about
which Berlin was equally dubious, "Say
It Isn't So."
Almost from the start, Berlin has not
only been composer and lyricist, but
also his own publisher. Through Irving
Berlin Music Corp., "he collects maxi
mum royalties from every broadcast of
his songs, every record, and all sheet
music. His firm, with four offices and 20
employees, is the only one thriving on
the work of just one song writer!
Berlin spends little time at the office.
An avid reader, an authority on vintage
wines, and an occasional fisherman, he
bursts in long enough to handle cor
respondence or other routine items, then
adjourns to Lindy's for a long lunch and
the latest Broadway gossip from pro
ducers and song writers. His abiding
loves are this and seeing the latest plays
and top movies.
Despite his zest for the company
show people, Berlin is a devoted,
publicity -shy family man and doting
grandfather. Occasionally, he even turns
out a meal for the family. Never in the
lavish party set, the Berlins always have
been close. Even when their youngest
daughters are away at school, Berlin
and his wife see them frequently.
Berlin's first wife, Dorothy Goetz,
died of typhoid five months after their
marriage in 1912. In-1926, he married
former Postal Telegraph heiress Ellin
Mackay in a marriage that brought ban
ner headlines. They have three daugh
ters, Linda, Elizabeth, and Mrs. Marvin
(Mary Ellin) Barrett. A son, Irving, Jr.,
died as an infant in 1928.
A successful novelist in her own right,
attractive Mrs. Berlin has written
several books, most recently "Silver
Platter," a moderate best seller about
her. indomitable Grandmother Mackay
in the days when the family fortune was
founded in Nevada's Silver Rush,
Berlin somewhat laments the recent
evolution in popular music. "Records
are rulers now," he says. "You don't
publish a song without a record. People
don't sirig songs anymore; they listen to
them. Years ago, people, sat around a
piano and sang."
Rock 'n' roll puzzles him slightly. "It's
definitely going to die," he believes.
"Ragtime, jazz, and swing all had their
day, then passed. But this has taken an
awfully long time. I wonder what coming
generations will think of us. You know,
a song should at least make sense!"
That, and more, Irving Berlin's songs
do. Regularly, into his office pour letters
of gratitude, either for one song or for
all he has written.
There are fan letters from whole
classes in schools and cards of all types.
Recently, one was sent to "Irving Ber
lin, Song Writer, to the World."
Ais 5P-ye(r flow of admiration may
fcHtftftsufteme trilgite. Or perhfps such
a thi from the late erome Kern:
"Irving H lin hfjfcno icf in rr&-i(Qn
mujjc If M$t ic6n mu"
O
ttmlly WteMy, June 14, 1959