Brass Diva: The Life and Legends of Ethel Merman (69 page)

In August 1963, when Ethel was off the production schedule, she took a trip
to the Edinburgh (Film) Festival to promote the movie and to join son, Bob,
who was traveling solo to study the repertory theater of the United Kingdom,
a trip that would give him direction as he entered the Directors' Unit at
Carnegie Tech that fall. Meeting his mother overseas, as an adult now with an
awakened appreciation of theater, gave him a connection to her world, and her
to him, and it was a special visit. To be sure, many of his activities traveling
there had been of the "sowing wild oats" variety, things that he knew were
made possible with his mother's money but without her knowledge.

Leaving New York on a Pan Am flight, Merman spent the night in London
before traveling north. United Artists had made sure the trip would be well covered, sending out a press release: "Note to Editors: Ethel Merman leaves
Idlewild [now JFK] Friday, August 16 ... at 8.15 P.M. Photo coverage will be ap-
preciated."16 She didn't have to worry about lack of coverage. To the Scottish
press she said, "My mother's mother was born in Glasgow, and her name was
Gardner. Actually when I started in the theatre I wanted to call myself Ethel
Gardner."17 Fans were excited that Broadway's big star was finally among them:

May one of your real admirers bid you welcome to Scotland? ... I have long
admired your sheer professionalism-in fact ever since you swiped Alexander's
Ragtime Band from under the snub nose of Alice Faye! But, Miss Merman ...
what on earth happened to "Gypsy"? ... Kept hoping that you would do the
film version-or, if not you, then Judy Garland. However, the Rosalind Russell movie was, to my mind, a complete botch. All due respect to Miss
Russell-a fine Auntie Mame-but not Rose. I have the LP of your Broadway
production.... A superb record and one I never tire of playing, even though
it is now beginning to show signs of wear!

At the top of the letter, Merman writes, "I answered this nicely."18

A Scottish interviewer asked for Merman's views on the advantages and
disadvantages of fame. For the former, she briefly replied, "Independence,"
but reflected on the latter: "It makes people have some kind of awe and they
are usually the kind of people I know I would like. My son is a bit [shy] of
my success too. In all his travels around the repertory theatres in Britain, to all the people he has met he has never disclosed that I am his mother. I think
he wants to stand on his own feet, and that's fine, isn't it?" It was Bobby, she
told them, who was "getting a kick out of sitting unnoticed in her hotel
lounge." And she enjoyed being "free as the wind," untrammeled by marriage, a Broadway run, or young children.'9

Ethel with Ethel Jr. and Bob Levitt Jr., 1946.
Look magazine photograph; courtesy of Sydelle Kramer.

An abundantly dressed Ethel in Panama Hattie, 1940.
Photograph by Lucas & Monroe; courtesy of Sydelle Kramer.

The Merman performance style
(as Panama Hattie). Courtesy
of the Museum of the City of
New York.

The cast of Panama Hattie.
Photograph by Lucas & Monroe;
courtesy of Sydelle Kramer.

Ethel the Riveter, 1943.
From New York Mirror;
courtesy of the Museum
of the City of New York.

The Merman mouth and eyes.
Courtesy of the Museum of the
City of New York.

High-hatted Ethel, 1943•
Courtesy of the Museum of the City of New York.

Ethel and Harry Bellaver in Annie Get Your Gun, 1946.
Author's collection.

Rehearsing with Irving Berlin, c. 1946.
Courtesy of the Museum of the City of New York.

Ethel and Russell Nype sing the show-stopping "You're Just in Love" in Call Me
Madam on Broadway, 1950. Courtesy of the Museum of the City of New York.

Call Me Madam dolls used on the cover of the arts monthly Flair.
Courtesy of the Museum of the City of New York.