McKenna and Prosky: Two Giants of the Arts
Dave McKenna (October 20, 2008) and Bob Prosky (December 9) died within 60 days of each other. Each had been the subject of a New Yorker Profile. They never knew each other, but my wife Patty and I knew them for 45 years. We'd been in their homes and they, separately, in ours; we watched them perform, awed by the talent and charmed by their modesty and humor. Each was an extraordinary, life-long performer.
Experts called Dave "a jazz piano legend;" Oscar Peterson said he had "the best left hand ever;" Dave called himself "a saloon player." A professional at 15, Dave played with the Boots Mussili Band and Charlie Ventura's Band. After two years as an Army cook, he moved on to play with Gene Krupa, Stan Getz, Zoot Sims, Teddie Wilson, Dick Johnson, Lou Columbo, often with Bobby Hackett, and accompanied Tony Bennett, who sought him out. Hackett brought Dave to Cape Cod, and he stayed, except for a few tours or record sessions for ABC Records, Chiaroscuro Records and finally for Concord Jazz.
Big-name bands wanted him for tours, but Dave usually stuck close to home, playing in restaurants and bars around the Cape and Boston. I worked with him at Pate's on Cape Cod, and for most of the 1980s he played 6 nights a week at Boston's Copley Plaza Hotel. There, many customers probably heard only background music for a drink before or after a business dinner. Dave didn't mind; he liked a busy, comfortable audience. But many others came just to hear Dave. They hung on every note, nodding in recognition or anticipation through his trademark 10 or 15 piece, themed medleys (Snow? Rain? September? Always something timely and varied). He changed keys, shifted tempos, kept close to the melody and extended the theme. He might announce a Red Sox score, and he always visited with those aficionados between sets.
Bob won many awards as an actor, playing more then 100 roles at Arena Stage in DC, starring on Broadway, on TV and in films. He brought life to Willie Loman in Death of a Salesman, Shelly Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross, and a Soviet official in A Walk in the Woods. He was a perfect Falstaff, a cartoon chartacter in Dudley Do-Right, a vile murderer in Thief, a sot in Noises Off. He "participated" in the Scopes Money Trial and the Salem Witch trials; he played priests, corrupt businessmen, insightful judges (Miracle on 34th Street)and characters of all types.
He and his wife Ida once came to lunch, bringing a photographer whose spread on Bob (one of him in our pool with our dog) ran in People two weeks later. Bob asked me about New England accents before playing the Narrator in Our Town, and asked someone else about a New York accent before his years as Shift Sergeant in Hill Street Blues (he didn't need the help, but always sought nuance and improvement). He helped my son's 5th Grade Capitol Hill Day School class rehearse Hamlet (Patty and Ida worked at CHDS). Most recently he appeared with John and Andrew, two of his sons, in The Price. He was a powerful presence onstage and self-effacing and good humored offstage. At the end of his funeral, everyone in the crowded church stood, clapped and cheered as his casket moved down the aisle -- a great curtain call for the man and the actor.
Bob and Dave loved and excelled at what they did, and they were highly respected by their fellow artists. They delighted and thrilled their fans around the globe whose lives were enriched by their performances. We'll miss them. Read more!
Experts called Dave "a jazz piano legend;" Oscar Peterson said he had "the best left hand ever;" Dave called himself "a saloon player." A professional at 15, Dave played with the Boots Mussili Band and Charlie Ventura's Band. After two years as an Army cook, he moved on to play with Gene Krupa, Stan Getz, Zoot Sims, Teddie Wilson, Dick Johnson, Lou Columbo, often with Bobby Hackett, and accompanied Tony Bennett, who sought him out. Hackett brought Dave to Cape Cod, and he stayed, except for a few tours or record sessions for ABC Records, Chiaroscuro Records and finally for Concord Jazz.
Big-name bands wanted him for tours, but Dave usually stuck close to home, playing in restaurants and bars around the Cape and Boston. I worked with him at Pate's on Cape Cod, and for most of the 1980s he played 6 nights a week at Boston's Copley Plaza Hotel. There, many customers probably heard only background music for a drink before or after a business dinner. Dave didn't mind; he liked a busy, comfortable audience. But many others came just to hear Dave. They hung on every note, nodding in recognition or anticipation through his trademark 10 or 15 piece, themed medleys (Snow? Rain? September? Always something timely and varied). He changed keys, shifted tempos, kept close to the melody and extended the theme. He might announce a Red Sox score, and he always visited with those aficionados between sets.
Bob won many awards as an actor, playing more then 100 roles at Arena Stage in DC, starring on Broadway, on TV and in films. He brought life to Willie Loman in Death of a Salesman, Shelly Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross, and a Soviet official in A Walk in the Woods. He was a perfect Falstaff, a cartoon chartacter in Dudley Do-Right, a vile murderer in Thief, a sot in Noises Off. He "participated" in the Scopes Money Trial and the Salem Witch trials; he played priests, corrupt businessmen, insightful judges (Miracle on 34th Street)and characters of all types.
He and his wife Ida once came to lunch, bringing a photographer whose spread on Bob (one of him in our pool with our dog) ran in People two weeks later. Bob asked me about New England accents before playing the Narrator in Our Town, and asked someone else about a New York accent before his years as Shift Sergeant in Hill Street Blues (he didn't need the help, but always sought nuance and improvement). He helped my son's 5th Grade Capitol Hill Day School class rehearse Hamlet (Patty and Ida worked at CHDS). Most recently he appeared with John and Andrew, two of his sons, in The Price. He was a powerful presence onstage and self-effacing and good humored offstage. At the end of his funeral, everyone in the crowded church stood, clapped and cheered as his casket moved down the aisle -- a great curtain call for the man and the actor.
Bob and Dave loved and excelled at what they did, and they were highly respected by their fellow artists. They delighted and thrilled their fans around the globe whose lives were enriched by their performances. We'll miss them. Read more!