Nick Nolte got so high partying with me the night before at Studio, he threw up all over Eddie Murphy the following day at the SNL rehearsal. The only way to get into the SNL after-party was the fire escape entrance. Guests had no choice but to climb seventy-five feet up the outside of the building to the Rubber Room. This tickled John Belushi and Gilda Radner.
Chapter Twenty-Three:
It’s Raining Men
Halloween was always the biggest night of the year, drawing crowds of over 2,500. People showed up in the most outlandish, creative, and ridiculous costumes. Some women wore nothing more than body paint, which may have inspired Hugh Hefner, years later in the 1990s, to have painted women walking through the crowds at parties in the Playboy Mansion. One year, we spent $50,000 transforming the main entrance hall into a haunted mansion that included live monsters jumping out at our guests as they made their way across rickety bridges through a graveyard, while howling and other very strange loud noises played in the background. Once people made it past that scene, instead of going through the four double doors into the club itself, people were guided left to what was normally a dead-end side room that housed the public telephones. Surprise! We broke through the wall so that revelers found themselves in a strange outdoor courtyard, where bloodied actors screamed as they were being hanged or guillotined on scaffolding. To this day I am convinced, as are other members of my staff, that Michael O. dropped in some live rats that were scurrying around under a bridge they built for that night. I was so freaked out that my first thought that night was, “This is so frightening, will my insurance cover us if someone has a heart attack?” Finally, guests were guided through a large hole we cut in the next wall and voilà—they were back in the main room of the club, where the scene can only be described as something out of a Fellini movie.
The End of Tour Party for Sting and The Police was a blast. Millie Kaiserman, a stunning black beauty from Louisiana, was known for her chili. She was so excited when I told her about the upcoming event for The Police that we came up with the idea to serve her delicious chili for Sting’s private gathering of one hundred people behind the scrim. At 8:00 p.m. on the night of the event I received a call from Millie at my penthouse. “Mark, I need some help getting the chili to Studio.” I called my office at Studio and caught Denise Chatman just as she was leaving to go home and change clothes for the evenings’ event. I told her to stay at Studio and I would send my car and driver to take her to Millie’s apartment, to help get the chili to Studio. Denise had just smoked a joint of some really good stuff and was not prepared for a 160-quart stainless steel pot filled to the brim with hot chili, and the only person there to help her was Millie, who was wearing a white pantsuit.
Millie went overboard and prepared enough chili to feed the entire club. As they tried lifting this enormous steaming hot thing into the trunk of my limo, some of the chili spilled out and splashed all over Millie, Denise, and Fred, my driver. Millie returned to her apartment to change and Denise went on to the club with the chili. People were already there behind the scrim, waiting for Sting and Millie’s chili to arrive. John Griffith and David Miskit helped get the monster-size pot of chili to the serving station, complete with all the necessary accessories. Denise turned around to leave for home and a welcome change of clothes but there they were, a line of people with plates in hand, hungry and eager to taste Millie’s chili. Denise said “fuck it” and served chili complete with all the sides—sour cream, etc.—to Sting, The Police, and their invited guests for the next few hours. The club was packed to the gills in anticipation of the curtain being raised on Sting and The Police. I had to keep postponing the raising of the scrim because people wouldn’t stop eating the chili. Sting was very appreciative and went out of his way to thank all of us and then returned to his corner, basking in the attention of several young beautiful models. Denise received a beautiful bouquet of flowers the next day from A&M Records. As thrilled as I was to host the party for Sting and The Police, it’s Millie’s chili that I will never forget.
The “Best Of” Awards party was an annual international black-tie event that recognized elegance in lifestyle, as well as the fields of politics, art, culture, and creativity. One year, it was decided that the décor would be Amazonian in theme, since we were honoring São Schlumberger, the glamorous Brazilian wife of Pierre Schlumberger, the oil industry billionaire. We decorated the club in a jungle motif—banana and rubber trees everywhere—with our “hot” busboys wearing only grass loincloths, much to the joy of all our guests. The guest list included our regulars. Special guests that night were Jeanne Moreau (star of Francois Truffaut’s Jules et Jim), infamous socialite Claus von Bülow, Brooke Shields, Pierre Cardin, Frank Sinatra, Donald and Ivana Trump, and New York Governor Hugh Carey and his wife. After the dinner we shot cash over the dance floor from the confetti cannons. It was quite a sight to watch this illustrious gathering in formal gowns and tuxedos scrambling all over the floor, diving for tens and twenties. The party generated significant press, including a picture of Claus von Bülow and a few companions on the front page of the New York Post. Andy Warhol’s sidekick and man-about-town Bob Colacello (a regular contributor to Vanity Fair magazine) hosted the party welcoming Richard Gere, Marissa Berenson, Diane von Fürstenburg, Hubert de Givenchy, and Valentino.
Celebrity birthday celebrations were always special, and regardless of whom the honoree was, they would invariably become more involved with their guest list, since it was an event of such a personal nature. Maria Burton, the stunning daughter of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, was no exception. She invited a cool crowd to her birthday party at Studio. The night was a stand-out with Francesco Scavullo, Susan Sarandon, and Christopher Walken, who made the night for everyone with the moves he threw down on the dance floor. Maria clapped with joy as she and everyone else at Studio stopped to watch Walken do his thing. Looking back on the celebration now, I do so with a tinge of sadness. Throughout the evening, Maria’s guests Christie Brinkley and Olivier Chandon were all over each other—it was obvious that they were very much in love. Olivier, also known as Olivier Chandon de Brailles, was a French racecar driver and heir to the Moet & Chandon champagne fortune. They had met at a party we hosted for Christie to promote the 1982 Christie Brinkley Calendar. On March 2, 1983, while traveling at one hundred miles per hour in a practice run in West Palm Beach, Florida, Olivier’s car jumped the barrier landing upside down in a canal, trapped in his car at the feet, and he drowned. He had just spoken to Christie on the phone, excited to meet her later that evening in Florida.
The Soap Opera Awards was a favorite event, even though I have never been a fan of soaps. Our guests made it a funny and special night for me. At the party were Neil Simon, Christopher Walken, Eddie Murphy, and the handsome and dashing Douglas Fairbanks Jr. He was the original Zorro and Robin Hood in the 1930s and ’40s and the host of the first Academy Awards presentation in 1929. Some twenty-five stars from the local soaps all came out for the party benefitting City Meals-on-Wheels. It was quite an honor to spend some time in the company of Douglas Fairbanks Jr. He was a decorated naval officer, awarded the Silver Cross in World War II. He had appeared in one hundred films—true Hollywood royalty and always included on the International Best Dressed list. He was dapper and had quite a sense of humor. For me, an unforgettable experience.
The bridge over the dance floor in Studio was used for numerous occasions, including musical performances by such groups as Wham! starring the late George Michael, Menudo, The Radio City Music Hall Rockettes, New Edition with Bobby Brown, Culture Club and Boy George, Double Exposure, Madonna, The Village People, Carol Williams, RUN—DMC, Loleatta Holloway, Laura Branigan, Rebbie Jackson, El DeBarge, and the Ritchie Family.
Many of these special performances were choreographed by Karin Bacon, the creative sister of Kevin Bacon. Sometimes we invited everyone from the dance floor up to the bridge. It was a real turn-on and people loved it. It was twenty feet abov
e everybody else below, the same perspective one would have if performing on a concert stage. Frankie Crocker said it reminded him of TV shows Hullabaloo, Shindig! and Soul Train—an inspiration to “get your groove on.”
The bridge worked for many artists but definitely NOT for Prince. His high-heeled shoes would have been a disaster on the grated floor surface of the bridge. His people had reached out to Denise Chatman by phone to discuss the layout of Studio 54 for a possible free performance by Prince, but in the middle of the conversation Prince took the phone and continued on with Denise, rendering her almost speechless. Prince wanted to visit Studio…incognito. I agreed not to alert the press. It was a gamble, but I had so much respect for the guy, and I really wanted him at Studio on terms he would be comfortable with. I was hoping for an impromptu jam. I spoke to Richard Walters of the Norby Walters Agency, a nice guy and regular at Studio who was in touch with Prince’s people; Richard agreed to do whatever he could to help make it happen. A few days earlier I was in my limo on my way to Studio and Frankie Crocker was on WBLS radio, interviewing Prince in advance of his sold-out Little Red Corvette Tour at Radio City Music Hall.
Frankie asked Prince, “I know you are a gifted musician. How many instruments do you play?” A few seconds of silence and then Prince responded: “I play twenty-four, but only nineteen really well.” That blew my mind. So a few nights later Denise monitored the back door and when Prince arrived she alerted me. I never would have recognized him in his hat and bandana with three friends under an assumed name. He thanked me and Denise gave him some drink tickets. Prince asked me if they were good for sodas and juice. I told him yes and they took off toward the upper-level balcony and Rubber Room. A few hours later I spotted them all sitting in a dark area of the Rubber Room watching the crowd below and stuffing their faces with candy and drinking sodas of various colors, which explained the knapsack one of them was carrying when they arrived at the back door. I smiled and left them alone. A Prince jam at Studio never happened due to scheduling, but he did return to Studio several times for Frankie Crocker/Dahved Levy events. Prince never went to the DJ booth; he preferred to hang in the shadows and observe.
When a group was too large to perform on the bridge we’d erect a stage at the back of the dance floor to accommodate a full band. We set it up many times but my favorite groups to perform were Lou Reed; The Temptations; Stevie Wonder; Earth, Wind & Fire; Teddy Pendergrass; The Clash; and The Blues Brothers—Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi. Studio was an intimate setting compared to Madison Square Garden. I know there were more and I wish I could remember them…but I can’t.
I sent out this Christmas greeting from the staff of Studio 54.
They were a wild bunch, but devoted and hard working.
Photgraph by Doug Van.
During the Christmas season of 1982, we hosted an evening celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the charity Save The Children with a yuletide party “The Night of 100 Trees.” It was a Tuesday night event hosted by Maria Burton, and her husband Steve Carson. Evelyn “Champagne” King graciously accepted a personal invite from Maria to sing her hit song “Love Come Down.” Studio 54 was so festive and very beautiful that evening, featuring a dazzling array of Christmas trees artfully decorated by many of the Hollywood elite, including Elizabeth Taylor. The trees were quickly gobbled up at an auction that evening, raising oodles of money for Save The Children, after which everyone danced in celebration amongst and around the trees.
We hosted a dinner and roast for noted gossip columnist Liz Smith, which was an unforgettable evening for all those who attended. Her friends, including opera star Beverly Sills, Kathleen Turner, Helen Gurley Brown, Kaye Ballard, and Broadway actress Elaine Stritch, gathered together to give Liz a good-hearted dose of her own gossip. Liz was the original Gossip Girl; a favorite quote by Liz Smith—“Gossip is just news running ahead of itself in a red satin dress.” She was born and bred in Texas, but never looked back once she discovered Manhattan and went to work for Cosmopolitan magazine and Sports Illustrated. So on this very special night for Liz, all heads were covered with cowboy hats, the floors with sawdust, and we served a down-home dinner of Tex-Mex fare catered by my brother Alan from his Tennessee Mountain restaurant in SoHo. Other guests included Liberace, Diane Sawyer, Marvin Hamlisch, Pia Lindström, and Mariel Hemingway. Highlights of the evening included emcee Gloria Steinem reading telegrams from Carol Channing, Lily Tomlin, and Mike Wallace. It was a night of light-hearted “bitchiness” mixed with a dose of down-home Texas hospitality and much love and affection.
“Welcome Home Peter Beard” was how the invitation read, and it was a glorious night. When Peter entered the main room with beautiful wife Cheryl Tiegs on his arm, as hundreds of friends including numerous major celebrities applauded his return to Manhattan, we knew it would be a fun-filled evening. He had just returned to New York from his beloved home in Africa. Any time spent with Peter was always interesting. He surrounded himself with people one would never find boring. He was an heir to two fortunes, the Great Northern Railway on his mother’s side and Lorillard Tobacco on his father’s side. Peter travelled with and shot the Rolling Stones American Tour in 1972. Peter Beard was and is one of the nicest guys in the world, beloved in every way by the models he photographed and all the people fortunate enough to know him. Peter enjoyed shooting in my penthouse—it was filled with an abundance of natural light during the day, so whenever he requested to use it I was only too happy to oblige.
Parties for Elite Models and its founder John Casablancas were always chock-full of the hottest models of the day. The girls loved him and showed up for any event he hosted. Johnny loved hanging on the stairs above the backdoor stage entrance that led to my office rather than in a VIP section or on a banquette reserved for him in the main room. Maybe he didn’t like loud music but I believe he was drawn to the “behind the scenes” action of the club. It was always a scene on the stairs and people “in the know” like Johnny knew that most celebrities, especially those who loved Sister Cocaine, would make their way to the back of the club and up the stairs to my office at some point in the night. He and Stephanie Seymour, Paulina Porizkova, Iman, Carol Alt, Kim Alexis, Elle Macpherson, and a host of others, whether they were signed to his Elite Models or not, loved him and could be found sitting on the “not-so-fancy” back stairs with bottles of champagne and glasses in hand, having a great time. In order to get to my office on nights that Johnny and his guests were there, my other guests, A-list celebrities from the worlds of fashion, music, sports, film, and theater, had to climb over Johnny and his collection of beauties lining the steps. It made for great fun for everyone.
Brooke Shields hosted a party at Studio 54 to launch the I Love Central Park campaign, created by Fran Moss. I agreed to do the event because, like everyone who has ever lived in Manhattan, I loved Central Park. It was our oasis. But the truth is I was most excited because Allison Steele, the sultry-voiced Disc Jockey known to young boys and men everywhere as “The Nightbird,” was on the committee for the event and I was finally going to meet her. Allison Steele ruled in the 1960s and ’70s. She would stay with you all night long from midnight to dawn, on WNEW-FM Radio. Boutiques selling a line of gifts and athletic gear, imprinted with the striking green and black I Love Central Park logo, had just been launched at Macy’s in Herald Square—attended by Mayor Koch—and the Bloomingdale’s at Fifty-Ninth and Third. To the delight of New Yorkers and tourists alike, the merchandise was also available from the ice cream carts with umbrellas throughout Central Park. A percentage of the sales from the I Love Central Park merchandise went to the Central Park Conservancy to help maintain our beautiful park. Michael O. and his crew strategically placed the same style ice cream carts throughout the club, some filled with ice cream, and others with hundreds of I Love Central Park T-shirts. The walls of Studio were covered with graffiti and big beautiful trees and park benches were everywhere. Being inside of Studio that night felt like being outside in
Central Park on a Sunday afternoon. Graffiti artists, break dancers, Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five, The Sugarhill Gang, Kurtis Blow, Joe Bataan, and Roberto Torres entertained us. It was a happy, outdoor and festive feeling which continued through the night.
Inside Studio 54 Page 22
