New Life in the Spotlight Begins at 70 for Donegan

To call Dorothy Donegan the hottest new sensation in jazz is to ignore a central fact: It took 50 years for her to achieve full-scale fame and fortune, even though other pianists have long been awed by her.

Lately the pace has quickened for the 70-year-old Donegan, who will appear today in concert at Pepperdine University in Malibu, sharing the bill with trumpeter-vocalist-comedian Jack Sheldon.

In the past year she has won an American Jazz Masters’ fellowship, a $20,000 prize awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts; has been the subject of a major documentary; has played at the Kennedy Center, and has been awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of Maryland. What is unique about these events is that they happened as a result of her annual appearances on the S. S. Norway’s Jazz Festival, and that this all came about when she had reached her late 60s.

“I’ve been playing the same way for ages,” she says, “but there’s been a slow grapevine. Until the cruise I hadn’t had an album out here in years. Now I have two CDs, both taped live on the ship, for Chiaroscuro Records.”

A key figure in the story is Arthur Elgort, the fashion photographer turned movie-maker, whose film about saxophonist Illinois Jacquet won the gold medal at last year’s Houston Film Festival.

“I was filming Jacquet aboard the Norway in 1990,” he says, “when I caught Donegan’s show. I couldn’t believe what I heard. I’d known about her years ago; my mother had all her records. But I really thought she had died. What an artist! She had people shouting and cheering. They were spilling out the doorway of the biggest room on board. She has it all--great entertainer, great musician, great comedian. I decided there and then to film her as a follow-up to Jacquet in my ‘American Heroes’ series.”

There were other reasons for Donegan’s belated recognition: marriages and divorces (three apiece), pregnancies (two), retirements, and time spent out of the forefront in Cleveland, Puerto Rico and Paris. Yet as long ago as 1941 she attracted the sponsorship of the acknowledged king of them all, Art Tatum.

“I was living in Chicago when someone told Art about this red-headed woman who could play in his league,” says Donegan. “He came up three flights of steps to hear me, and he took me under his wing. I was the only woman he ever coached.”

After the cruise, one thing led to another: Jazz critic Whitney Balliett, who was on board, profiled her for the New Yorker. As a consequence, she landed a CBS-TV appearance. By last month Donegan had become such an attraction that the ship’s 800-seat theater overflowed with 1,000 passengers.

One night, trumpeter Clark Terry made a surprise appearance. When he played and sang the blues, using his well-known double-talk routine, Donegan achieved instant empathy, playing brilliantly but mugging and clowning while the audience screamed in delight. The result was what could best be described as a floating ovation.

“I keep trying to improve,” she says. “Sometimes I’m drained, emotionally and physically, but I stay in good shape. I exercise, I have no vices. I still practice three or four hours a day.”

Donegan says she has been approached by CBS Records, but she is dubious about signing. “They want me to sing--what do they expect, to make me into another Harry Connick?” She can sing, even does a fair Billie Holiday imitation, but vocals are not her long suit.

“Meanwhile, Chiaroscuro will be putting out another CD next year, including the set Clark Terry and I did together, Arthur Elgort wants me to go to New York so he can shoot movies of me doing some shopping.” (Elgort says: “Dorothy dresses even better than my models.”)

“It’s strange,” Donegan says, “how everything seems to have been happening at once, after all those years of playing the same old sewers. I guess you could say life really does begin at 70.”