Friends Gather to Remember Liberace

Liberace would have hated his 10th anniversary memorial service.

“He never liked anything sad,” said Jamie James, the late entertainer’s longtime publicist, as he looked over the small group of fans and former associates gathered at Forest Lawn-Hollywood Hills Tuesday, 10 years to the day after Liberace died from AIDS-related causes at the age of 67.

“The only time he cried,” James said, “was at the movies.”

No one was seen crying at the brief graveside service organized by the Liberace Foundation for the Performing and Creative Arts, which received almost all of the pianist’s estate, valued after he died at about $18 million. But with the exception of a candelabrum--the entertainer’s trademark--placed atop the mausoleum, the setting and tone of the event attended by about 30 people was somber.

“I’m sure he is looking down on us right now,” said Joel Strote, the president of the foundation and the only speaker.

But if Liberace--for whom the adjective flamboyant was far too mild--was able to see the tastefully dressed crowd, he might have found them a tad sedate for his taste. In his picture book, “The Wonderful Private World of Liberace,” the only time he was seen in an everyday business suit was for a private audience with Pope Pius XII.

Otherwise, it was brocade, fur, embroidery, wild colors and even hot pants.

“The hot pants, that was outrageous,” said costumer Michael Travis, who made Liberace’s show outfits for 13 years. Travis, one member of the “old crowd,” as he termed the group of former Liberace associates at the service, had a glint in his eye as he described ensembles that featured a 16-foot fur train or huge feather boa.

“We were working on the best at the end,” Travis said. “As he came down the stairs onstage, the audience would see the start of a cape, with candelabras worked into the design, he was wearing. As he came down it would get bigger and bigger until it lifted up and became the backdrop, half as high as the stage at Radio City Music Hall and two-thirds the width of the theater. Then the candelabras would light up.

“It would have been the showstopper of all time.”

Strote said that Liberace’s legacy was the music scholarships--$3 million worth, so far--granted by the foundation. But to the “old crowd,” the entertainer’s legacy was his professionalism, kindness and sense of fun.

Anna Nateece, whose business card reads, “Courturiere to Queen Fredericka of Greece and the Great Liberace,” remembered the time Liberace flew to Las Vegas to surprise her at a fashion show of her new work. Longtime manager Seymour Heller told of how Liberace used to surprise him with presents.

One of the most appreciative was Bill TemBrink, who was not a member of the Liberace regulars. In 1958, he had a small jeweler’s stand in the corner of a market in Los Angeles. Liberace happened by and TemBrink offered to restore his aging watch.

“I fixed it up and put his signature on the back, and then delivered it to him,” said TemBrink quietly. “He wanted to pay me, but I told him it was a privilege to do it for him.”

Liberace never forgot, and he turned to the jeweler when he needed items such as the diamond studs he wore in his tuxedo outfits.

“Because he came to me, other people came to me, and it made my business.”

After the service, with the crowd thinning, Jamie James walked over to the mausoleum to retrieve the candelabrum.

“If Liberace was not the person in here,” he said, pointing to the grave, “he would be the one saying right now, ‘C’mon over to the house and we’ll have a grand party. There will be lots of food and we’ll talk and have fun.’

“That was the way he approached life.”