7 questions for Bette Midle
‘Everybody’s a damn diva ”“ it’s enough to make you gnash your teeth.’
By BRAD WHEELER
Friday, December 9, 2005 Posted at 3:41 AM EST
From Friday’s Globe and Mail
Bette Midler Singer, comedian, actress. Born Dec. 1, 1945, in Honolulu. The last syllable of her first name is unpronounced because her mother thought that was how Hollywood star Bette Davis pronounced her name. Performed her cabaret act at the famed gay men’s club the Continental Baths, in the early 1970s, with Barry Manilow as her accompanist. Has earned four Grammy Awards, three Emmy Awards, one Tony Award, three Golden Globe Awards, and nine American Comedy Awards.
‘I think it’s a bunch of hooey! Everybody’s a damn diva — it’s enough to make you gnash your teeth.” Bette Midler, on the phone from New York, is riled. That is a very good sign, for a docile Midler just wouldn’t do. She’s promoting her new album, Bette Midler Sings the Peggy Lee Songbook, which was produced by her long-time buddy Barry Manilow, who also produced her previous disc, a big-selling tribute to Rosemary Clooney in 2003.
Midler doesn’t like the term diva it seems, preferring prima donna instead. When questioned about the difference, she excuses herself. “Hang on,” she requests, and returns to the phone after a few seconds. “I have my little book here . . . dive, divan, here it is — diva,” she announces triumphantly. ” ‘An operatic prima donna or a very successful female singer of non-operatic music. Also a goddess.’ Well, everybody loves to call themselves a goddess.” What does it say about the word divine, then? “Oh, well, I have always been divine,” she purrs.
No arguments here.
You’ve just turned 60. How’s the voice holding up?
You know what? The voice is pretty good. I sing a lot, and I have a voice teacher here and there. I’m pretty steady with it. I think if you keep it up, and you keep your wind up — running, which I still do — you can go for a while. I’ve learned a lot over the last few years about singing and voice production. It’s a field that I’m really interested in, because it’s me — my instrument is my body and myself. Also, I’ve never overdone anything. I find if you don’t abuse yourself, and get enough sleep, you can hold on for a long time.
You’ve never overdone anything? Don’t you pretty much overdo everything, as a rule?
Well, that’s my job, you know, it’s not my life. I’ve made up a wonderful character for myself, and my character’s given me a wonderful life. But if I were to behave that way in real life, I would have been dead 25 years ago.
Getting back to learning about singing. Are you talking about picking up subtleties, or about making allowances for your age?
Both. You find yourself having to manoeuvre over certain spots that don’t work any more, but I’ve also found things that I didn’t know what their names were. I didn’t know certain things on vocalizing — pianissimo and dynamics — that weren’t on the forefront of my mind before. Other singers will talk to you about techniques if you ask them, but it’s not something like sitting down for a cup of coffee and them saying, “Let me tell you how I sing.” Singers don’t talk that way, and it’s too bad. And a lot of times, the business of the business doesn’t allow a lot of time to go places and talk to other singers. You don’t go to shows every night of the week, and run into old friends as often as you wish you did.
Did you ever cross paths with Peggy Lee?
I did not meet her. In fact, I don’t think I ever even saw her live. I think because she was so still, so reserved. And I was interested in another whole thing, much more energetic style of performing — a bigger style. And for her it was a conscious decision to be so detached. It was very hip to be cool in the forties and fifties, and I think she was cooler, actually, than any of them were. I don’t think she got the acclaim that the Chet Bakers and the Miles Davises of the world got, but Peggy, in her way, was way cooler than them. She, for me, was the essence of it — the epitome of it.
She didn’t get the recognition, because she was a woman?
I think it was that. People were not so aware in those days that you could be overlooked because you were a female. So, it was a struggle for a lot of these women. If you read Peggy’s autobiography, it was so staggering what she lived through as a young person. She was abused at a time when people didn’t even call it that. Her stepmother beat her bloody, and she escaped. But she had no bitterness — not an ounce of bitterness in her soul. She was a romantic and an optimist her whole life. She lived through such terrible things, but she was a survivor, and wasn’t ruined by what she had lived through.
So, how do you approach a Peggy Lee tribute album, given that your style is more visual, even in the studio?
I wanted to do my version of it. I didn’t want to do an imitation, but I did want to try to do something smaller than I usually do. I think I accomplished that. These songs are not big songs, and to belt them out is not serving the song well. I had to try to get the emotional impact that I’m loved for — that I’m known for — in a much smaller vocabulary. As for the visual style, it’s something that I do without knowing that I’m doing it. But it does come across. Barry likes that kind of thing — he likes it a lot, and he always tries to get that from me.
Apparently Barry had a dream about the Clooney tribute album before it actually happened, and now he’s saying he had another dream, about you and Peggy, that inspired the new record. That sounds like myth-making.
[Laughs.] He’s really good at that. Somebody on his team is actually spending time on that kind of thing. He broke his nose, getting up from bed in a hotel, and it was in the papers the next day. Now, if it was me, I would have been mortified — I would have never told anybody that I had broken my nose. He’s always in the paper, and he’s doing so fabulously that I’m thrilled to death for him. So, he can keep dreaming. He can have as many dreams as he wants.
