“This is where it all started. Before ‘American Idol.’ Before ‘Star Search’ and before all of these other great shows that are on, it was the Apollo Theater that really was the springboard to jump everything off,” explains an impassioned Vanessa Rogers, producer of “Amateur Night at the Apollo” where, every Wednesday night for the past 73 years (20 years televised on “Showtime at the Apollo”), the legendary Harlem theater has been fueling dreams and jump-starting a seemingly never-ending line of stellar careers.
Billie Holiday, James Brown, Sarah Vaughan, Michael Jackson, Stephanie Mills, Gladys Knight, Luther Vandross, The Isley Brothers, Fat Joe, Lauryn Hill, D’Angelo, Alicia Keys and Dave Chappelle. It’s a list that’s difficult to believe, but all of them are came to the historic Uptown Manhattan venue on 125th Street as unknown “amateurs” and left as future American superstars.
Most recently, the Apollo was the center of a media frenzy when James Brown returned for his very final public appearance. On December 28, 2006, the body of the late, great Godfather of Soul was laid out in a regal, gold-plated, coffin for a ceremony that attracted thousands of mourners and befitted an American icon. The Apollo continues to have a glow of authenticity that few places in New York have sustained. So how come this American institution—now a historic landmark, but not too long ago it looked destined for demolition—doesn’t get nearly the level of respect that it so deserves, especially from New Yorkers? In other words, where’s the love for this epicenter of African-American culture?
LEARNING TO LOVE A LEGEND
“Does it get the respect it deserves? Absolutely not!” Vanessa Rogers flatly states one recent afternoon in the cramped office she shares with her assistant Kathy Jordan. It’s a quick second I get with her during a much-needed break between juggling schedules for upcoming “Amateur Night” lineups and arranging the pending “Showtime at the Apollo on Tour” when she and her producers will hit the road to audition for amateurs in Oakland, Las Vegas, Houston, Detroit and Columbus, Ohio.
“It often seems that people outside of New York really, really appreciate—and get more excited about—The Apollo than they do here,” admits Rogers, who has been tirelessly producing shows at The Apollo for close to a decade. “The time that we air has a lot to do with it. It’s not primetime TV.”
Her reason for the show’s lack of viewership seems like a good one since NBC’s late-night scheduling of “Showtime at the Apollo,” after “Saturday Night Live” signs off, seems specifically geared to the insomniacs out there and not a mass-market audience. But that still doesn’t explain most New Yorkers’ ignorance.
Regardless of how the theater may be received or perceived, Rogers and her staffers plug away, giving 110 percent to every show they produce. Twice a year they hold open calls and anyone (and everyone) can show up at 253 West 125th Street and audition: singing, dancing, rapping, DJing, spoken word, comedy or playing instruments from harmonicas to grand pianos. On the most recent open call auditions, a Saturday in mid May, several hundred hopefuls descended upon the venue in a long line that snaked down 125th, up Frederick Douglas Boulevard and eventually wrapped halfway down 126th Street. Despite the early morning’s light rain, spirits were clearly not dampened for those patiently in line for what would be a long, drawn-out day for the 300 acts lucky to make it inside the auditorium. But, despite the slow-moving queue, the energy level is wild as many practice dance moves or Whitney-esque melismas.
Star Search
Nei, a trio of male R&B singers in their early twenties, had driven in from Bridgeport, CT. “We’re actually entering as solos. We all want to make it,” said Nathan. “I just know that every superstar or wannabe superstar comes here: Michael Jackson, Aretha Franklin, Usher, Lauryn Hill. I heard about it through a guy Kenny I met at another competition for “Making the Band.” Further down the line, the all-female, R&B trio, Simplicity—comprised of Brooklyn siblings Star, Shatar and Tasia—were in line with their father, Jeffrey Lucas, who himself had won “Amateur Night” a few times back in 1992 and ’93.
“The Apollo is for people who have dreams. This is the place to pursue those dreams,” he said.
“It’s important to me because Anita Baker, Stevie Wonder, Lauryn Hill and so many others that I look up to have performed here,” said Rolla, who’s been singing since age two, and who made the early-morning, two-hour drive in from Providence, RI, with her husband. “Only God knows what will happen today.” (As it turned out, Rolla successfully made it inside to pass the audition and will perform on Wednesday November 21 at “Apollo Amateur Night.”)
“The judge was mad cool,” said Rhythm City’s young manager, Alonzo Williams, part of the 28-member hip-hop/R&B/B-boy dance and singing collective that trekked over from the Bronx. “She was really into it, bobbing her head to the music while we were auditioning.”
Impressive considering that Rogers had to closely judge a mind-numbing total of 305 acts (she graciously allowed five extras inside) on that one intensive day. Of that total, about half passed to the next stage.
Boo, Hiss, Get Outta Here
What most people know about the Apollo is the notoriously harsh, critical Apollo audience: They can make even Simon Cowell seem warm in comparison. They’ve long honed the Apollo’s live, interactive form of voting off: loudly booing until the humiliated performer is escorted offstage by the ever-theatrical C.P. Lacey—aka The Executioner.
“When you come in for the auditions you’ve gotta show confidence in yourself,” explains Rogers. “If you come in looking all timid and shy, that’s not gonna get it. It really ain’t gonna get with me. But for you to later on get up in front of 1,500 people they’re gonna slam you cuz they smell fear. I’m not about to pick you to be booed offstage; I just don’t want to see you humiliated.”
At the recent open-call auditions, she’s encouraging but impatient with those few that come ill-prepared—like the sloppy rapper who traveled all the way from Virginia but whose flow was plain wack.
“Brother, you gotta get yourself together,” she snaps, scolding him for wasting not just her time, but also that of his two female back-up singers. Dismissing him in disgust, she then encourages one of his two singers—who clearly had a powerful soulful voice—to audition in his place on the spot.
“She wasn’t hesitant. She was right on it. She didn’t hem and haw and, consequently, she qualified. That’s what I’m looking for!” A little later, as contestant #68, Alana, a black female with a very powerful voice was singing opera, Rogers interrupts her to ask if she sings R&B? Without missing a beat, Alana switches up styles and, as a result, passes the audition. “If I stop you and ask you to sing another song, you should be able to do it like that. Because if this is something that you really want to do, then you got it. But if it is something like a hobby, it’s gonna show,” explains Rogers with no apologies.
The harshest judge ultimately is the Apollo audience. “They are brutally honest, and we encourage them to be. I tell them before the show: “If you like them, let them know you love them,” says longtime Apollo employee Billy Mitchell followed by a laugh. “And I tell ‘em, ‘If you don’t like ‘em, get ‘em off that stage as quickly as possible. Get ‘em outta here because you don’t want them to suffer any longer, thinking that they have talent when they really don’t.”
Mitchell should know, he was only 14 when he first started working at the Apollo in 1962, running errands for performers like Redd Foxx. When he first met “Little” Stevie Wonder, he was the same age as the singer: 14.
Nowadays Mitchell is the official Apollo historian and is responsible for the creation of the smart and entertaining tours of the cultural institution that he also oversees.
“For about a year and a half, I literally ate and slept every bit of Apollo history and research I could get my hands on,” explains Mitchell. In his fun and informative tours to groups from places like Germany and Canada—which he peppers with a perfect balance of humor and African-American history—Mitchell never misses a beat or an opportunity for a witty comment. “When I first met Michael Jackson...(perfect pause and straight face)...he was black,” he tells a delighted group of about 30 Japanese tourists who crack up laughing loudly. He then continues (more seriously) with a vividly detailed story of when a little-known family act from Detroit called the Jackson Brothers first came to perform at the Apollo in 1969. He then surprises the same tour group by explaining that, at one time, blacks weren’t even allowed inside what is now the Apollo.
“People equate the Apollo as a place that is sacred to black people, but most don’t realize that at one time, blacks weren’t allowed into this building to attend the theater that is so closely associated with black American culture.”
But race apparently doesn’t matter today at the Apollo, and both Billy Mitchell and Vanessa Rogers insist that non-black contestants get as fair a chance as the more typical black or Latino contestants. “People, before they come here, do think that way,” admits Rogers. “But that’s not true. In fact, last year’s winner of the whole year was a 16-year-old white girl from Long Island. It just depends on your ability. That’s it. I’ve rolled out some serious white girls and boys from this show.”
She also cited both the “2006 Apollo Dance Challenge” winner, Japanese B-boy Takahiro, and this year’s “Showtime” dance champ, the Japanese B-boy, Kanichi. Regardless, race—especially when a contestant is white—does seem to come into play. For proof, do a YouTube search under “Showtime at the Apollo” and numerous listings tagged with the words “white boy” pop up. However, check out clips from past “Showtime” shows, and you quickly realize that white and black contestants are treated equally hard by the ever-tough Apollo audience.
“Y’all are hard on a rapper,” says host Sinbad, shaking his head, on one past amateur night during which an unfortunate black emcee was cruelly dissed offstage.
Times Are A-Changin’
However it looks like the voting process might be slowly changing at the Apollo following the recently introduced “Text-To-Vote” deal with Verizon which, besides slightly altering the voting process, is financially assisting the historic landmark that’s in the midst of a very costly ongoing renovation (just the facade and marquee facelift came in at almost $18 million!).
“The Apollo is a direct reflection of the Harlem neighborhood it occupies, and it is a vital part of the culture here," Mitchell explains, stressing the importance of the restoration. One of the biggest tragedies to Mitchell is the fact that the Apollo gets the least love from its own hometown. “Unfortunately a lot of New Yorkers don’t seem to appreciate what’s right here. And interestingly, a lot of people from New York, from this immediate community, don’t even know the history of this theater or the history of Harlem, for that matter.” How that image changes in the next few years, as Harlem continues its slow creep towards gentrification, will make all the difference for the landmark and the community.
The marquee outside reads in big bold letters: The Apollo Theater: Where Stars Are Born and Legends Are Made. And standing outside, Billy Mitchell, with an air of pride and undiminished hope, doesn’t miss a beat:
“What other American entity can legitimately claim responsibility for the success of so many important American artists regardless of race? None!”
