Sunday, May 1, 2016

Set 'em up Joe ....

The drink and the laugh is on me.  It all began in mid-April, the start of a two-week period which suddenly over-flowed into school-girl palpitations, speculation, uncertainty, high anxiety.  I was instantly smitten, and made no effort to hide it.  It was fun and adventurous. An acquaintance even commented that my eyes were sparkling. There were breathtaking moments of exhilaration courtesy of a technicolor fantasy of my own creation.  The days (and sleepless nights) were tumultuous, much like being flung about in a gigantic industrial-sized clothes drier. Some of it was exciting and even thrilling, but reality demanded acquiescence. It was all a dream.  My brain has taken steely control, and I have forced my heart to sign a restraining order.. After all! A woman of my age.  Really.  (See footnote)

In spite of the turmoil, I managed to attend brilliant jazz performances by Bill Charlap ...

Bill Charlap April 15, 2016
Regatta Bar, Cambridge, MA

Then I was inducted into the
Rhode Island Music Hall of Fame

April 21, 2016 

Rhode Island Hall Of Fame Induction

And then heard Kenny Barron at The Regatta Bar
in Cambridge, MA

Kenny Barron, April 29, 2016

Now on this first of May, appetite and health restored, (I have dropped 20 lbs since January but it's not easily discernible yet), I continue my dietary regimen, daily walks and vocal warm-ups in preparation for my participation in the prestigious JAZZ IN JULY series in New York, held at the 92nd St. Y.  On July 27th, I will sing some songs written by revered composer/lyricist Billy Strayhorn with Bill Charlap and his remarkable wife, jazz pianist Renee Rosnes.  I am frankly filled with effervescent enthusiasm.

* * * * *

For those who have been kind enough to inquire, I AM writing the memoir, admittedly at a glacial pace, but I have been a jazz singer for over sixty years, and there are so many events and people and places ... well, you can understand.
* * * * * 

Footnote: When I told one of my best chums about these roller-coaster days, she wrote: "If I may venture a wild guess? It is painfully obvious you felt spontaneous attraction, becoming a wee bit delirious in the bargain, resulting in disorientation and accelerated heart rhythm.  You also felt thoroughly pixilated for an entire fortnight, but have now managed a graceful return to normalcy, just in the N.O.T., I might add.  It must have been confusing and exciting.  And the truly wondrous fact is that these sorts of convulsive seismic shocks to the psyche can and do occur to those of us living the "golden" years.  Someone should write a song on the subject.   Will you now add "The Man That Got Away" to your set list?   
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Please send comments to me at 

Thursday, March 31, 2016

Hear Ye, Hear Ye! It's officially on sale today!

This is the cover of the superb new cd featuring my good friend, master pianist Bill Charlap, along with his long-time colleagues bassist Peter Washington and drummer  Kenny Washington.  The melodies have been fastidiously chosen, are elegantly performed and convey instrumentally what New York City represents to so many: The Best of Everything.

It is available in general release tomorrow, April 1st, and I am certain you will share my all-consuming enthusiasm for this newest recording from Bill and his best buddies.   I was thrilled by his request to write the liner notes, so I am proud to have participated in this remarkable project.  I am also happy to know you will read my modest contributions.  The songs are:

     I'll Remember April (Gene DePaul/Don Raye)
     Make Me Rainbows (John Williams/Alan and Marilyn Bergman)
     Not A Care In The World (Vernon Duke/John LaTouche/Harold Adamson)
     There Is No Music (Harry Warren/Ira Gershwin)
     A Sleepin' Bee (Harold Arlen/Truman Capote)
     Little Rascal On A Rock (Thad Jones)
     Too Late Now (Alan Jay Lerner/Burton Lane)
     Tiny's Tempo (Lloyd "Tiny" Grimes)
     On The Sunny Side Of The Street (Dorothy Fields/Jimmy McHugh)

It is a thrilling recording in every respect.  Bill will be appearing in Boston on April 15th at The Regatta Bar, Charles Hotel Cambridge.  I will see you there.


Another Significant Date for your calendar ...

     On Saturday, April 2nd, my good friend, the superior singer Donna Byrne brings her formidable talent to Rhode Island's singular music venue Chan's Egg Rolls and Jazz Club for one night of a delightful mix of swing and best ballads.  I know this is short notice, but if you reside in Southern New England, I think you might want to make the effort to see and hear her.  She enjoys a huge, loyal following in this region, and I'm pleased to forward this notice on her behalf.


     As for my extended silence, I can only say that I feel my two years in mourning, filled with grief and sadness, loneliness and some confusion have been difficult at times, but with the help of friends, blessed silence and serious introspection, I feel a new confidence and cheerful outlook for whatever comes. And SloaneView will appear in your mail box more frequently as well.  Thank you all for your patience.



Saturday, August 29, 2015

Of All The Hotel Rooms In All The World, She Walked Into Mine

You must remember this: Victor and Ilsa are visiting the cafe because he has an appointment to pay Ugarte a very large sum of money in exchange for documents which will provide safe, unencumbered passage out of Casablanca and into the free world. As they enter the club, Ilsa passes a familiar figure seated at the piano, and shortly thereafter, addressing Captain Renault, she speaks a line which causes me to cringe each time I hear it: She says, "The boy [emphasis added] who is playing the piano ... somewhere I've seen him".  In 1942, when this movie was made, it was perfectly acceptable for an adult Negro male to be called a "boy".

After Ilsa persuades Sam to sing "As Time Goes By", a visibly agitated Rick suddenly appears, and seems on the verge of striking the poor musician because we are hearing a melody Sam has been forbidden ever to play.  During the strained chat between Ilsa and Rick, their last meeting is recalled.  Rick says: "I remember every detail.  The Germans wore gray, you wore blue", to which she replies: "Yes. I put that dress away. When the Germans march out, I'll wear it again". Correction:  In that flashback scene at La Belle Aurore, she is wearing a very conservative little mousy kind of suit, not a dress.  But then, as far as I'm concerned, not one of Bergman's outfits really make any sort of memorable fashion statement.  I think the movie's much revered costume designer Orry-Kelly lost his sketch pad and much of his creativity somewhere along the heavily traversed Santa Monica Boulevard.

Fast-forward forty years to my Ingrid Bergman story ...

On August 29, 1982, I was in a Tokyo studio, recording what was to become an album titled "As Time Goes By", the song featured on the cd.

It's available today at Amazon and other online venues. The musicians are a marvelous three: Tim Horner, one of my favorite drummers, the gifted Japanese bass player Yukinori Narishige, and the marvelous, highly respected American jazz pianist Don Abney who was living in Japan at the time. Abney's reputation as accompanist to some of the leading jazz singers of the day was impressive, and so I looked forward to collaborating with him.

Feeling rested and relaxed after an afternoon nap, a shower and comfortable satisfaction about the song list, I began work on my make-up. While standing in front of the bathroom vanity, I felt a sudden jolt of heat fill the small space. I really thought the infra-red heating fixture in the ceiling had somehow surged itself into the "on" position since I certainly hadn't engaged the switch myself.

As the warmth lingered, the strong presence of Ingrid Bergman was startling, comforting and undeniable. My first reaction was astonished delight, followed by the more sensible assumption that since I was to record "As Time Goes By" in a few hours' time, my vivid imagination had stimulated an image of the beautiful woman who portrayed Ilsa Lund.

The few moments of intensity began to dissipate, then gently vanished altogether. I felt elation, gratitude and humility, in that order. Finally, it was time to meet my colleagues in the lobby of the hotel to make the journey to the studio.

Hours later, after a jolly drinks/supper party, the TV news announced that Ingrid Bergman had passed away on that date in London.  I discovered later that this information was incorrect.  At the end of her long ordeal with the cancer which would claim her at a relatively young sixty-seven, she asked her third husband to take her to their Swedish island home which became the site of her death.   I believe beyond question that Ms. Bergman entered my space to bestow a sort of imprimatur, a fleeting little form of encouragement I think of whenever I sing "As Time Goes By".

Her daughter Isabella Rossellini will present an Ingrid Bergman Tribute at London's Royal Albert Hall on September 6th this year.


Unrelated Notes:  

I will appear at The Providence Marriott for an early afternoon concert with my old pal Mike Renzi on Sunday, September 27th.  Tickets are available here or you can call 1-800-838-3006.  Just ask for the Carol Sloane Event.  Might even sing "ATGB".  

For Boston-area singers, I plan to conduct a six-week vocal workshop in Stoneham, MA starting September 12 to October 17th.  Please contact me at for details.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Dave Garroway, 7.13.1913 - 7.21.1982


He was born David Cunningham Garroway on July 13, 1913, in Schenectady, New York.  He earned a degree in Abnormal Psychology from Washington University in St.Louis.  He worked at Harvard as a lab assistant, he was a book seller and piston-ring salesman, spectacularly unsuccessful selling either.  In 1938, he moved to New York and took a job as a Page at NBC; in 1939 he worked at KDKA in Pittsburgh as a Roving Reporter, covering such varied assignments as train derailments, hot air balloon festivals, and purse snatchings.

In 1941 he enlisted in the Navy and got his first radio job as a dj on a radio station in Honolulu.  He played jazz records. After the war, he was in Chicago, working on air at WMAQ-AM, continuing his fascination with and devotion to the music, and organizing jazz concerts.

From 1949 to 1951, "Garroway At Large", produced in Chicago and broadcast nationwide by NBC television featured his favorite music, also introducing America to pop/jazz singers he believed particularly outstanding exemplars of the art form.  I watched the program faithfully because his musical focus was always on jazz, and he introduced singers who were exceptional.  A beautiful woman named Connie Russell made frequent appearances.  Dave clearly was a big fan.  Hers was a clear, straight-forward style with superb intonation very much the fashion of pop singers of the day. And she was gorgeous ...

And here she is singing "You've Changed" written in 1942 by Bill Carey and Carl Fischer from an appearance on Dave's Chicago-based program "Garroway At Large".

New York 1952

Among the more memorable of Dave's accomplishments was his job as host of an extravagant, innovative television program called "Today" which debuted on the frigid morning of January 14, 1952, and which many network competitors described as "a brash experiment".

A somewhat breathless Dave Garroway takes us on a guided tour of the studio and the latest apparatuses on a set which suggests Rube Goldberg might have received a Consultant's fee. Dave is determined to convey his own enthusiasm for the notion that we should all be fully informed of the world's complexities before we step out the door to face another day.  The technical marvels of 1952 include tele-type and telex machines and international telephone connections but little else. One can't help thinking of the age of the computer looming on the horizon when gazing at the clunky equipment which was state-of-the-art at the time.

The video runs 9 minutes 35 seconds, and keep an eye out at 2:43 for the startling report of  "the inflammable exploding sweaters made of synthetic rayon" (!).  I can't help wondering if this item wasn't a deliberate attempt by some wags hoping to puncture Dave's famous unflappability, but the joke, if there was one, failed. Dave kept his cool. Here is the video.

I remember that morning very clearly.  I was fifteen years old at home in Rhode Island, transfixed by the notion that such miraculous things could happen, even then sensing with delicious anticipation that television promised greater wonders to come, even better than Broadway Open House.  (To digress for a moment, I had already been dazzled and astonished as I watched a fuzzy picture on a Motorola 7" screen my Uncle George proudly owned in 1949.  "That picture is coming all the way from Boston!").

Dave was a perfect host for Today with his understated enthusiasm for the breakthrough concept he'd been instrumental in developing.  The New York Times wrote: "He does not crash into the home with false jollity and thunderous witticisms of a backslapper.  He is pleasant, serious, scholarly and not obtrusively convivial."


Ten Years Later, New York

The caller identified himself as a staff member with the CBS Arthur Godfrey Radio Program. "The Old Redhead"  was going to take a two-week vacation, and venerable broadcast legend Dave Garroway would be his substitute host.  Mr. Garroway had requested that I appear with him each day, to sing a song or two. With record-setting speed, I agreed to the deal.  I was thrilled.  I was going to meet a living legend and a major hero of mine.

On the first day of the show, Dave asked me if I had any idea why I got the call.  Of course I didn't, so he said: "Well you see, a few weeks ago I got into a cab and found the previous occupant had left a magazine behind. Your picture was on the cover, so I read the article about your new album for Columbia ("Out Of The Blue").  I listened to it and decided I wanted to hear you sing every day."

For two weeks I observed, listened, learned and grew to admire this gentle soul much as I once adored my high-school English teacher.  I sat in the corner with the band, Dave sat at a desk upon which were arranged numerous essentials: a goose-neck lamp, a microphone, lp recordings, a telephone, his note books, every copy of the New York newspapers (at least five to seven published each day in 1961) and reference books within easy reach.  In addition, the harsh, fluorescent ceiling lights had been reduced to confessional dimnesss, creating an intimate atmosphere he obviously preferred.  The band and I (an octet) were tucked safely in a corner. The show ran live for one hour from Monday to Friday nationwide on CBS radio. Dave commented on current events, critiqued and recommended books, plays, films and jazz albums and artists he liked in his gentle, mellifluous voice, and then he would ask me to sing as a change of pace.  He was an attentive audience, smiling, never taking his eyes off me and the band.  I was smitten.

A few days after the very pleasurable two weeks I spent in his company, Dave called to ask if I would please take a cab uptown to his East Side townhouse to discuss a project for which he needed help.  I couldn't wait to find out what he had in mind.   When I walked into the living room, he first thing to catch my eye was this strange, rather cumbersome object sitting atop a table-model television set.

When I asked what it was, he said: "It's one of hundreds commissioned by the US Army and Navy Air Forces.  It's a Norden bombsight".  I thought it an oddity, but perhaps its function was a conversation piece as well as a fascinating, tangible piece of history.  I did my own research, and discovered that the Norden had been an efficient tool in air combat during WWII because it provided the bombardier pin-point accuracy in all kinds of weather and even night-time raids, missions sent up to seek and destroy strategic locations of air fields and storage facilities used by the Germans.  Initially developed by Carl Norden, he demonstrated its capabilities to representatives of the US Navy and Army who were justifiably impressed and placed orders immediately.  The Norden proved invaluable.

Dave had invited me to his home to ask if I might help him with a project dear to his heart but for which he hadn't time to explore.  He showed me a slender book titled "Cosmic View, The Universe In 40 Jumps" (Please note: this is a pdf  file), by Kees Boeke, a text book for everyone but more especially a refreshingly simple explanation targeting grade-school students.  It depicts the earth's relationship to the planets in drawings and photographs.  Dave wanted a dozen copies, the research assistant in me responded, and I accepted the assignment.

Dave then asked if I'd like to inspect his bedroom's security system. Uh-oh.  Was this a variation on an old familiar theme?  To be honest, my heart skipped a beat. Was this scholarly, bespectacled idol of mine making a pass?  I forced myself to think otherwise, and trailed him down the hall to a room without a door. Dave said we could go no further than the threshold (huge sigh of relief), and I peered into a dimly-lit space to see a mattress on the floor, papers and books surrounding it on all sides.  He said: "The security system is live and fully functional.  If you or any person with malice aforethought attempted to enter my bedroom, this whole place would light up like an attempted prison break at Sing Sing, with sirens wailing and strobe lights blazing.  It's also directly linked to my area police precinct so they'd be here in minutes".  Wow! Everything but the Dobermans and snapping alligators in the moat. I was suitably impressed for a couple of reasons.

I left his house shortly thereafter, promising to begin my detective work for the book.

I did locate the volume and as directed, I placed his order for a dozen copies to be sent to my address. When they arrived and I telephoned him, I was invited to deliver them.  Mission accomplished, I accepted his profuse thanks, had a cup of tea with him, and with a firm handshake and huge smile, he saw me to the door. End of story, sort of.

P.S. The last time I saw him, possibly 1963, he arrived alone and unannounced at a modest little club date I had one weekend at a country club on Long Island.  He seemed preoccupied, remote and somewhat desolate of spirit. (This would have been not long after his second wife, a ballet dancer named Pamela Wilde, committed suicide).  I thanked him for coming --  "Oh, I just wanted to hear you sing again -- but I may not be here for the second set".  He actually kissed my hand as I left to start my second show.

He was nowhere to be seen when I came off the stage, and I was disappointed and a bit broken-hearted.  I had hoped that maybe he'd turn at the door and wave me his signature Peace Sign before he made his exit, but it didn't happen.


On July 22, 1982, The New York Times reported: "Dave Garroway was found dead of a gunshot wound yesterday at his home in the Philadelphia suburb of  Swarthmore. He was 69 years old.  Mr. Garroway's third wife was the last to see him."  Incredibly, Google reports that the lady is living in Swarthmore today at age 95.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

A Singer, A Pianist, And Other Wonders


I like to think I know a bit about vocalization, enough so that I can distinguish between a genuinely gifted singer as opposed to the one who should never give up the day job.  I therefore, with unbridled enthusiasm, direct your attention to a collection recorded in 1985 which Fresh Sound Records has propitiously seen fit to re-issue.  The cd's title is "Let's Be Buddies", and features the luminous LA singer Pinky Winters accompanied by legendary pianist Lou Levy.  The selections are lovely ballads and light-hearted swingers. Some of the titles are: Along With Me (Harold Rome), Nobody Else But Me (Hammerstein-Kern), You Are There (Dave Frishberg-Johnny Mandel). The setting is duet-intimate, with unobtrusive bass lines provided by Monty Budwig, offering a fine "how to" lesson for any aspiring jazz/pop singers.  Pinky's work is endearingly subtle, and she may be unfamiliar to some of you.  If you appreciate the understated approach as much as I do, you will be enchanted.  I hope you will treat yourself to this seriously impeccable cd.



It's time for me to tell you about the Toronto engagement (May 15-16, 2015 Jazz Bistro, Toronto) where I sang songs with one of America's most gifted musicians, the brilliant Bill Charlap.  What can I say that won't be considered over-blown or exaggerated in any way except this: It was perfect in every possible respect. I can only report the facts: We performed to full houses and exceedingly appreciative audiences and, not to put too fine a point on it, we had a wonderful time together, and there wasn't a lead sheet in sight.  Just two old friends having a great time with the music.

We met in Toronto on the 14th of May, and sat quietly at the piano in the club in the afternoon for about three hours, just choosing songs and keys, Bill tucking the list in his jacket pocket..  Then we shared a fine meal at Barberian's Steak House, and talked and laughed as only old pals can do. We have been friends for almost twenty-five years, recorded several cds, and performed in clubs and concert settings.  He really did me a very big favor agreeing to play for me in Toronto.  He's one very busy man. Take a look at his itinerary for the next few weeks: Amsterdam, Paris, --- HEADS UP London Jazz Fans!!!  Bill's at Ronnie Scott's on Monday, July 13, --- Madrid, New York.  It's a good idea to bookmark his web site to check if he might be "coming soon to a theatre near you."   He played two flawless, spectacular sets at The Regatta Bar in Cambridge, MA on Saturday, June 20th, astonishing and delighting his devoted fans.  I know.  I was there.

THE BOOK .... 

Other wonders: Joining the avalanche of documentaries, videos and assorted memorabilia associated with the centenary celebration of the birth of Frank Sinatra on December 12 this year, a highly anticipated book titled "Frank & Ava: In Love And War" by John Brady is now available at Amazon pre-order in advance of the October 13 publication date.  Mr. Brady is a veteran editor and author of five books, including "The Craft Of The Screenwriter", and the investigative biography "Bad Boy: The Life And Politics of Lee Atwater".  In the 1970's, while working for Reprise Records, he met Sinatra and many of the singer's colleagues whom he interviewed after Sinatra's death in 1998.  John Brady lives in Newburyport, Massachusetts. 


I have been a voracious reader since childhood when the books on the shelves at home were there because they were incentive free gifts distributed to movie-goers at our local theatre.  During the dreary, frightening and sometimes exhilarating days and nights of the Second World War (aunts and uncles and us kids around Grandma's kitchen table, lustily singing "Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition"), my mother indulged her passion for Hollywood's entertainment mill by taking my sister and I to see movies three times a week.

Each time she bought the tickets, she was handed a book or a cup and saucer or a salad plate because at that time a complete service for four was the prize, doled out one item at a time.  Our house had two full sets of china thanks to the Community Theater on Smith Street in Centredale, RI.  The books were literary classics by Walt Whitman, Conan Doyle, Henrik Ibsen, and works of poetry by Keats and Shelley were added for good measure.  On rainy summer afternoons, I would take a book to the side porch and begin to read, not with comprehension but with a growing appreciation for words and the enviable ability of the author to create images and emotions on the printed page.  The love of reading continues unabated to this day, so just for the fun of it, here is a list of titles stacked beside my trundle bed, or waiting in the queue on the living-room coffee table:

I am enjoying "The Yellow House - Van Gogh, Gauguin, And Nine Turbulent Weeks In Provence" by Martin Gayford, noted British journalist and major jazz fan who once wrote a very flattering review of a performance of mine in London many years ago.  He's currently the Art Critic for The Spectator.

I have the Graham Swift collection "England And Other Stories", winner of the Booker Prize, ready to be explored at a moment's notice.  David McCullough's "The Wright Brothers" is waiting in the queue; I finished "All The Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr.  It's a gripping story and had me in its thrall from page one.


 I am now working on a Blog about my experiences as a quasi-research assistant to the perpetually fascinating character named Dave Garroway, a television celebrity of the 1950's and beyond, host of the Today Show on NBC in its infancy.   He was an enigmatic man who was partial to female pop and jazz singers, and that's it: he thought I was a very good singer and hired me.  Details will be published here on July 13th, Mr. Garroway's 102nd birthday.  Meantime, here's Dave's familiar sign-off at the end of any program he hosted.   Peace ....