Feature: Gifts To Cabaret That Last All Year - Day Eight

For seven days, starting on Christmas Eve, we have been looking at artists that are ongoing gifts to, both, the community and the industry of Cabaret and Concert. For this, the eighth and final day, New Year's Eve, I'd like to step out of the third person and into the first person and talk about some people that are gifts to the industry every day of the year, and who hardly ever get any appreciation. It isn't just one group of people - it's a few of them, and even though they don't get the public "thank you" that they deserve, it should be stated that they are seen. They are seen by me, a writer who spends more nights every year in the clubs than at home, and a man who sees and notices everything - including these people.

The Front of House Staff: Every club in the city has a team of people that run the front end of the room. For some of the larger clubs like Joe's Pub, Birdland, and 54 Below, it really is a team of people that greet the patrons, check their coats, seat them, and see to it that they feel welcome and comfortable. For smaller establishments like Don't Tell Mama there is a concierge at the front door and a seating host at the cabaret room door (who is, most often, also the tech director) or The Green Room 42, where the box office staff does double duty checking people in and seating them. The fine folks who welcome the patrons to the clubs work very hard, and often have to deal with people who don't see the necessity of offering them the respect they deserve. For the year after the lockdown was lifted, I stood in line behind some ugly people who were nasty to these working folks because they were tired of being asked to show their vaccination card or, worse, who wanted to be let in even though they didn't have their proof of vaccination with them. Tch. These kind and benevolent people are just there, doing their job, giving the patrons a good night out, and the industry doesn't run without them.

The Servers: Stephen Schwartz once wrote "It's an art to be a fine waitress" and he wasn't kidding. If you've ever sat in a cabaret room and watched the ballet that takes place as the servers navigate (quietly!) the tables, the chairs, the outstretched legs, coats and bags slung over chair backs or left on the floor, delivering drinks and food without disturbing the performance - it's an impressive sight to behold, and these workers should be appreciated for that part of their work that requires them to be as invisible, as small, as possible while performing Herculean tasks of service. And there are the bartenders who are usually inside the room with the audience and the act, who have to mix drinks as quietly as possible - they deserve a pat on the back. This is difficult work and, truthfully, audiences often don't make it any easier. These are heroes in aprons and this patron appreciates them.

The Publicists: Every show, every act, every actor, every club, every person wants publicity. They need publicity, otherwise the people don't come and art is being created in a vacuum. So there are these warriors that spend their days (and, often, nights) helping to build publicity campaigns for these shows, actors, clubs, club owners, album producers, and more. There are hopeful emails sent, gentle favors asked, and, sometimes, angry situations smoothed over. They deal with a slew of journalists, getting them to attend opening night, seeing to it all are given proper seating and treatment, as well as set lists, personnel lists, and show art. There are interview requests, album review wishes, and advance press needs, and much of the time all of this is handled by one person behind a desk, handling an entire club, plus individual artists. It's a labor of love and these laborers deserve a big thank you note from everyone.

The Designers: If a performer is going to set foot onto a stage, somebody has to make sure their work can be heard and their faces seen. Every club in the city has at least one and sometimes two technical directors who design a lighting plot and create a sound design that helps bring the artist and their artwork to the individuals in the club. Usually, the designers are the people pushing the buttons and turning the knobs during the performance, and often the actor calls out their names in a curtain call thank you speech during which the audience is applauding so loudly they don't hear them. But we see the artistry of these wizards, we enjoy when they recreate a rock and roll concert before our very eyes, and we appreciate when they make it possible for us to hear all the musicians and singers in a balanced manner. They are there for us and a part of our applause really and truly belongs to them.

The Documentarians: Thank goodness for the photographers and videographers who populate the cabaret rooms, quietly shooting the photos that end up on social media, on album covers, in ad campaigns, and (sometimes) in Broadway World articles, or the videos that fill the YouTube channels, helping to promote the artists, and (sometimes) being used in Broadway World articles. Artists with a lens, that's these fine folks.

The Administrators: Without the booking agents, the managers, the office personnel, each individual nightclub would find chaos in its wake. The bookers maintain the artistic voice of each venue while the managers keep things running smoothly and all of the other administrative employees make things easy for the creatives and the service workers. The administrators' faces aren't often seen, but their presence is, deeply, felt.

The Owners: Remember the pandemic? Remember the show business shutdown? The city (heck, the world) lost a lot of businesses during that booger of a time, and the cabaret and concert industry was hanging on by a thread. Some of our clubs didn't make it at all, and some came back with different objectives (I don't think I will ever recover from the loss of The Beach Cafe as a cabaret venue), and some managed to come back stronger than ever. The owners of the clubs did everything they could to keep their doors open, their staff solvent, and the industry thriving... and thrive, they did. But without those stages upon which to put on their plays, the actors of the cabaret and concert industry would still be singing in front of their webcams, and live entertainment is so much better in real life.

The Correspondents: When the lockdown hit there were nine correspondents at Broadway World Cabaret. During the lockdown, there was one. When the clubs re-opened, there were two. Slowly, we built up a tiny team of people who were available and interested in doing this work, and they made a difference to me and to our page. When I go out I often see the writers, photographers, and editors from other outlets, and I look at them with admiration and appreciation - they're all so wonderful and wonderfully talented. They inspire me, so, in my own work, and I'm honored that they allow me to play in their playground. It's rewarding to know, during the weeks when I work with no team, that the industry and the community are getting coverage from other outlets. From the start of my tenure with Broadway World, the correspondents have been people doing this for fun but not because it is their main hustle. That main hustle will always take them away from me because it is (and rightly so) their true passion. But for a while I get to know them, to work with them, and to enjoy the benefit of their presence at Broadway World Cabaret. For that time, I smile a little easier and breathe a little more deeply.

The Patrons: I have spent countless hours in the clubs of New York City, usually arriving quietly and sitting still so that I can observe the surroundings and the people filling those surroundings. The patrons of the cabaret and concert industry of Manhattan are a marvel. Often, I see the same faces in these rooms, usually those faces land in the audience of the same clubs, but not always. There are pure patrons like Gail Gordon who choose a club and stay with it (Gail misses very few shows at 54 Below, each year) - patrons who are not cabaret workers, only devotees (and there are a lot like Gail). One is also apt to see members of the artistic community in the clubs, there to support their colleagues and to satisfy their own desires by seeing the artists whose work has resonated with them throughout the years. Some folks favor particular rooms, while others get around to all the clubs. It doesn't matter where they get their fix - all that matters is that they get it, thus supporting the clubs, the performers, and the economy of cabaret and concert. Without the audiences, it just doesn't work.

It takes a lot of people to make the cabaret and concert industry keep moving, but most of the time it is the artists, the actors, the performers that we all think of when we head to the clubs. But there probably isn't a week that goes by that this writer who practically lives in the clubs doesn't encounter these other people who make it all happen, these people listed above, these people who make what those on the stage are doing possible. To them, and on behalf of all of us, I say, from the deepest place in my heart: thank you. I see you.

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