Ned Sherrin Obituary, The loss that changed a life
Ned Sherrin, Creator of Mock News ‘Week,’ Dies at 76
Because of his ubiquity as a director, author, dramatist and radio personality — or “shower-off” in his jaunty self-description — Mr. Sherrin’s death may be hard for some to accept, The Daily Telegraph of London suggested in its obituary on Wednesday.
“Every time I think Ned Sherrin is dead,” the paper quoted an unnamed reviewer as saying, “he crops up on television with some program in appallingly bad taste which proves only too conclusively that he is still alive.”
But Mr. Sherrin is indeed dead, as confirmed by his personal manager, The Associated Press reported. Thus he will be unable to do for himself what he claimed was unique among his many occupations: reviewing memorial services for The Oldie magazine, which bills itself as an antidote to youth culture.
Mr. Sherrin produced 10 films; wrote novels, musicals and plays; was host of a popular radio show; and produced other television series besides “That Was the Week That Was,” or “TW3,” the live political review. (A later one was a news-based quiz show called “We Interrupt This Week.”) He also wrote two autobiographies, a novel, a collection of theatrical anecdotes and a dictionary of humorous quotations.
But with “TW3,” which ran for just over a year beginning in November 1962, Mr. Sherrin altered the television landscape by inaugurating a new, more youthful, more irreverent strain of satire, whose prickly progeny include “Saturday Night Live” and “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.”
|Read the Rest of the Entry…
Bill and Jack – Australian Open 2010
Enuf Said!
“Yip” Harburg and the famous Flub
During the early 80′s, My friend, mentor, father, great love, Ned Sherrin and I were working on a series entitled “Song by Song.” The series was dedicated to the great lyricists, We were shooting the series in Leeds for Yorkshire television and PBS in the states. Ned (much about him to come in this blog), captured in his autobiography “Ned Sherrin, The Autobiography,” a funny moment. One that best represents the “ditzy” quality that I’m so well known for today. He writes:
“My happiest single memory of the series is playing to “Yip” Harburg in the programme we devoted to his work. He is one of my favourite lyric-writers and he was then, some three years before his death, already into his eighties. His enthusiasm was matched by his eagle-eared attention to see if any of his words had been rearranged. The occasion also had its wry side. There are those terrifying times when you know that certain subjects are taboo with a person. With Yip it was “The Wiz”. Without doubt, Yip’s best-known score s the one he wrote with Harold Arlen which provided the springboard for Judy Garland’s success in “The Wizard of Oz”. Among the colleagues in the viewing theatre was my friend David Yakir, who made a vow not to mention the black version of the Frank Baum classic, “The Wiz, which he had enjoyed, but which we both knew Harburg hated.
After Yip had enjoyed the celebration of his work we chatted happily until David and I took hi home in a cab. He lived where so many songwriters hang out in style on Central Park West. Suddenly,, out of nowhere came the “brick” which David was determined not to drop. “Mr. Harburg, how did you like “The Wiz”? The old man was civilly dismissive; David bit his tongue off.”
Taking the Wheel, Gavin Creel
A bit of inspiration here. Written by Gavin Creel and sung magnificently by David Campbell. Certainly had a great influence on me.
“Taking the Wheel”
It’s no good, it’s too pat
I can’t just sing a final song
Say so long and leave it at that
It’s alright, I’ve got time
So I didn’t hitch a ride on the rocket to the top
I’ll get there in a steady climb
What did it mean, what have I learned
Crossing the bridges before they’re burned
Leading life, instead of being lead
Using my head
What’s it about
DId I lose innocence going in, or gain experience coming out
What did it mean, what have I learned
Eating off tables, before they’re turned
Living life, instead of playing dead
Throwing down a pencil, grabbing a pen
Taking the wheel, driving again
Throwing down a pencil, writing in ink
This is how I feel, this is what I think
Dreaming again, and making those dreams real
No big deal
I hit my stride
If I’m not breaking the ribbon at the end of the race
It’s only because I haven’t tried
What did it mean, what have I learned
Taking the credit I know I’ve earned
Waking up, and flying out of bed
Throwing down a pencil, grabbing a pen
Taking the wheel, driving again
Throwing down a pencil, writing in ink
This is how I feel, this is what I think
Dreaming again, and making those dreams real
Taking the wheel
I’ve been in a back seat long enough
Tagging along for the ride
I’ve been in a back seat long enough to know
That you never get what you deserve
If you never can decide
There’s only one way to get where you want to go
Throwing down a pencil, grabbing a pen
Taking the wheel, driving again
Throwing down a pencil, writing in ink
This is how I feel, this is what I think
I’m dreaming again, and making those dreams real
Taking the wheel
I’ve been in a back seat long enough
Tagging along for the ride
I’ve been in a back seat long enough to know
That you never get what you deserve
If you never can decide
There’s only one way to get where you want to go
Throwing down a pencil, grabbing a pen
Taking the wheel, driving again
Throwing down a pencil, writing in ink
This is how I feel, this is what I think
Dreaming again and making those dreams real
Dreaming again and making those dreams real
Taking the wheel
Dorian, The Musical
In my youth, as a director, producer and writer, I had some great successes and even greater failures. Having started with producing and directing the award winning Off-Broadway play “Kaspar” by Peter Handke, I went on to write and develop in London the musical “Only in America” which later became the famed “Smokey Joe’s Cafe,” the Leiber and Stoller Musical. I then set off to write a musical version of “The Picture of Dorian Gray” with a friend who disappeared a long time ago. “Dorian” as it is now named has been in the making for too many years. Procrastination or “writers block” only account for part of the delay. Career, money and other interests took care of the rest. Having made my way through about half of it, I’ve recently picked it up and have found the will, the fortitude, (if a bit less talent) to attempt its finish. By sharing with you some of the work, hopefully, it will force me to completion. Here are the lyrics to “Ah Youth”, one of the five songs completed for the show. Setting: Act One, Scene One, Lord Henry (the mentor) speaking to the afflicted youth Dorian, who in his marvelous youth is having a portrait of him done by the artist Basil. Lord Henry walks to the portrait from behind Basil and from the expression in his eyes, we know he has just seen a great work of beauty. (Click the link for the song.)
|Read the Rest of the Entry…
Perception
Perception by a friend of oneself is an odd thing. We think we know ourselves, but it is through others that we gain some measure of truth of who we are. Recently I was re-reading my dear departed friend Ned Sherrin’s book “Sherrin’s Year, The sparkling diary of a master raconteur.” I’m not sure how I missed this or didn’t remember a certain passage of the book where he shared “with the world” a passage on his perception of me as a person. While perception is more “qualitative” rather than “quantitative,” it reflects a certain truth as perceived by an individual about another.
We had recently come back from a journey to South Africa, where we enjoyed the arts, the Blue Train (From Cape Town to Johannesburg), more on this later, and I continued to stay in London for a few days before flying back to NY. In his book, he writes:
Thursday 11th May
“Yakir is staying until Saturday. He has been an ideal companion. We seem to pick up where we left off. There is alway a wealth of information to convey – about his mother, the death of his father (last year), his performance at the funeral, his brother Scott. Mamma is hustling for condo in Florida, where all her friends go. David has a very intense Jewish family loyalty, stiffened by deathbed promises to his father.
Then there is the vast off-stage cast of his office. When I met him, he was feckless and 30-ish with an obsession for hanging with the glossy-model-driven clique in Manhattan, refusing to mature although there was a very definite theatrical talent as a director which he refused to pursue any further. When we split up last time, he eventually found a niche in a big adverstisiing firm in New York, N.W. Ayer, and showed a remarkable flair for organising their computer systems. Some wonderful equation balancing his emotional immaturity with his mid-30′s social experience made him perfect to lead the way in the agency in the most rapidly expanding field. Now he has his own company, Blue Marble (the astronauts’ first description of how the earth appeared to them from the moon). I have a very clear picture of the entire staff and all their squabbles and pretensions. It will be twelve months before I catch up on this everyday story of the Advertising folk”.
“FECKLESS, IMMATURE, INDEED!?
Ten Years To Old
Thirty Three years ago, while dutifully exploring the world as a young man should/would, I held up in a small hotel for several months at the “Hotel de la Tour” in the village of St. Tropez, France. During that time I met a young poet living in a villa of an old vineyard as the guest of an older French Gentlemen. He was of local fame with a name I can no longer recall. He was in the midst of writing a new collection of poetry. During the month of our “tryst”, I was lucky enough to be included as one of the family and invited to stay as “long as I needed to”. Because, at the time I was a playwright, I was encouraged to find my hand at the “art” of poetry. During the many wine filled nights, I listened to the stories. The elder gentlemen talked about taking over the Vineyard from the family after living the artists life and how the last ten years of his life were where he succumbed to the inevitable. ”He was no longer the person he wished to be. He was the person that he was expected to be.
As I saw my life taking many of the same turns, I wrote this, in dedication to his life and to the one I inevitably lived.
|Read the Rest of the Entry…
Benjamin Franklin’s Speech at the Conclusion of the Constitutional Convention
Philadelphia, September 17, 1787
I’ve always had misgivings about the concept of “Constitutionalists” when electing our public officials or selecting our Justices. As nearly perfect as a Constitution may be, it is not infallible, nor do I believe there is an absolute in its interpretation. I had been curious if I could find a founding father that best represented a point of view that I’ve thus far been unable to articulate.
In Benjamin Franklin’s speech at the conclusion of the Constitutional Convention, he gave a speech that I think is particularly relevant now – in how we should think about our governing document.
Monday, September 17, 1787, was the last day of the Constitutional Convention. Pennsylvania delegate Benjamin Franklin, one of the few Americans of the time with international repute, wanted to give a short speech to the Convention prior to the signing of the final draft of the Constitution. Too weak to actually give the speech himself, he had fellow Pennsylvanian James Wilson deliver the speech. It is considered a masterpiece.
The following is as reported in Madison’s notes on the Convention for Monday, September 17, 1787
|Read the Rest of the Entry…