The Capitol’s perfect encore
If the walls of the Capitol Theatre could talk ... Actually, they do. The room is wrapped in burgandy wallpaper depicting Jerry Garcia jamming, Chuck Berry duckwalking and Janis Joplin wailing.
These walls contain pretty good stories too, most famously about Joplin writing lyrics at a neighboring Port Chester, N.Y., bar before an Aug. 8, 1970 gig, then surprising her band by singing the words a cappella from the Capitol stage: “Oh Lord, won’t you/Buy me a Mercedes Benz.” Joplin would record the song in one take during her last recording session that Oct. 1, three days before her death at 27.
The rock stars repeat themselves around the room, but another image appears once. It greets every artist as they enter and exit stage left and sums up the Cap’s long, strange trip. Garcia, the beloved Grateful Dead guitarist, toasts the camera with a goblet you could backstroke across. Beneath it are words he uttered Oct. 10, 1970: “See, there’s only two theaters, man ... that are set up pretty groovy all around for music and for smooth stage changes, good lighting and all that — the Fillmore (East) and the Capitol Theatre. And those are the only two in the whole country ...”
If the wallpaper teeters toward precious (available as a Tshirt!), the Garcia touchstone could not be more rock ‘n’ roll. There’s no frame or glass. It is just creased paper stuck to the wall with gaffer tape the color of a neon yellow marker wielded by a 10thgrade English teacher.
The people who work in the 1,800seat theater have their own stories. It’s Tuesday night and I’m here during a showcase to pitch the theater for corporate or private events. I’m a rollin’ stone, just roaming with no sources in mind.
The staffers I meet have a few commonalities: They all credit the Cap’s revival to the realized vision of promoter Peter Shapiro, they all cite Robert Plant among top gigs and all try to find words to capture “the vibe” unique to this rock palace.
There’s a slight pall in the vibe on this night. It’s hours after the death of Robert Hunter, best known for his Grateful Dead lyrics and least known for graduating from Stamford High School 60 years ago.
Additionally, preparations are underway for a benefit show honoring the life of the late songwriter/guitarist Neal Casal. Backstage are two of Casal’s surfboards that will frame the stage for performances by his friends and admirers.
Another friend, Jon Dindas, has returned to the Cap after working as production manager during its 2014 comeback. He is “Uno,” with each successor taking on the subsequent Spanish numeral, though he clarifies, “I was not here in 1926.”
I’ve brought chatty ephemera of my own, including a 93yearold Stamford Advocate ad boasting of the Capitol’s luxuries and Thomas Lamb architecture before Opening Night. The wicker chairs are long gone, but the “Byzantine style of architecture” remains, if masked by psychedelic projections. The ad is addressed to “Mr. and Mrs. Stamford.”
Dindas says the theater still banks on luring Mr. and Mrs. Stamford across the border, along with fans in Greenwich, Norwalk and beyond. “If you folks didn’t come, it wouldn’t have worked.”
He talks about the romance of the Capitol, a theme echoed by others there who grew up hearing oral histories of its unrivaled 197071 ride. Dindas is proud that the theater is better than ever, an inverted Fabrage egg with its beauty on the interior, but he remains in awe of that chapter in its history.
“No other suburban entertainment facility
had the kind of lineup this one did.”
I ain’t arguing. Vintage Advocate ads promote whiplash scheduling. Joplin one night, Frank Zappa the next. Pink Floyd, James Taylor, Van Morrison, Traffic, the Byrds, Cat Stevens ...
Mott the Hoople will finally get to headline in a few weeks, 49 years after opening for Grand Funk Railroad. The third act on that bill was the Kinks. The
Dead didn’t just promise a threehour show at 8 p.m., but another at midnight.
Greenwich resident
Laurie Breiter was a high school senior when she drove 40 miles from Long Island to Port Chester to see
Santana.
When I ask if she remembers the show, she exhales,
“Noooooooo. It was
1970, I got nothin’. ”
As if to prove it, she says she can’t recall the opening act. I fill in the blank ( John Lee
Hooker).
Seven summers ago, she spotted “A legend returns” on the Palace marquee and learned they needed ushers. “OhmyGod ... WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?” sprinted through her brain.
What she did was respond to an online ad. She got no response, reasoning they preferred younger ushers. Still, she treated herself to a ticket to an early show with David Gray. Then she got the call and was part of the crew by the time Bob Dylan reopened the Palace Sept. 4, 2012. She’s missed only a few shows since.
Members of the team laud new acts such as the Marcus King Band and Rainbow Kitten Surprise with the same fervor as legends who played in recent years, such as Ringo Starr, Neil Young and Jackson Browne.
The stars themselves marvel at their surroundings. Usher Marshall Toppo, 58, recalls the night Elvis Costello soaked in the black, gold and scarlet room from the stage, ruminated about his grandfather’s vaudeville days, then unplugged his guitar, walked away from the microphone and played unplugged.
“He was so in love with this theater and the acoustics,” Toppo said.
The theater is even more special to Toppo since he grew up and lives in Port Chester. He’s collected the greatest backstage hits, like the legend of Chris Cassone sneaking into dressing rooms circa 1970 by bringing sheet cakes from his family’s nearby bakery (chronicled in his oneman show “The Cakeman Chronicles”). Everyone took the bait except the Grateful Dead’s security. Then there is the story tour manager Sam Cutler chronicled about dosing police at a Dead show.
Toppo introduces stage manager Eliot Byron by saying “he knows the good stories.”
Byron could not be more gracious. He calls the volunteer ushers the “heart and soul of this place.” He could not be more appreciative of working at spontaneous rock shows instead of TV or Broadway, calling alternatives “Groundhog Day.”
But he also could not be more discreet. He’s not gonna spill backstage secrets. I’m better off talking to the walls.