A PORTRAIT OF THE MAN AS AN ARTIST:
TONY CURTIS
Actor and artist Tony Curtis comes to Sedona for a series of art exhibits and film screenings this month. This summer, Sedona Monthly was invited to Curtis’ Las Vegas home to sit down with the 84-year-old legend as he reflected on his past and speculated about the future. An exclusive interview by Joe McNeill
Tony Curtis has a name and a face that people can place. One of the greatest of the postwar movie stars, the New York-born Curtis was as famous for his thick black hair –– Elvis readily admitted copying his style –– and New York accent as he was for his talent and natural screen charisma. Curtis has starred in dozens of enduring crowd pleasers, including George Marshall’s Houdini (1953), So This Is Paris (1955), Carol Reed’s Trapeze (1956), David Miller’s Captain Newman M.D. (1963) and a pair of comedies directed by Blake Edwards: Operation Petticoat (1959) and The Great Race (1965). At the height of his celebrity in 1965, Curtis even voiced a character on The Flintstones TV series, Stony Curtis, a thinly disguised caricature of himself.
 Besides the popcorn movies, Curtis’ résumé also includes some of his generation’s defining films: Alexander Mackendrick’s Sweet Smell of Success (1957), Stanley Kramer’s The Defiant Ones (1958, for which he received a Best Actor Oscar nomination) and Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus (1960). In June 2000, the American Film Institute ranked Billy Wilder’s 1959 Some Like it Hot, in which Curtis co-starred with Marilyn Monroe and Jack Lemmon, as No. 1 on its list of “100 funniest American movies of all time.” In October 2008, Curtis published his second autobiography, American Prince: A Memoir (Harmony House, $25.95), written with Peter Golenbock. His new book, The Making of Some Like It Hot: My Memories of Marilyn Monroe and the Classic American Movie, is due out this year.
Although he’s still acting (most recently in the 2008 indie David and Fatima), Curtis devotes much of his time to his art, which encompasses painting, drawing and constructions made with found objects. His work is exhibited internationally; you can see some of his work at his Web site, www.tonycurtis.com. Curtis and his wife, Jill, are also actively involved with Shiloh Horse Rescue, a Nevada-based charity she founded in 2003 to save abused, unwanted, neglected and slaughter-bound horses. To find out more, visit www.shilohhorserescue.com.
From Oct. 7 to Oct. 11, Curtis will be at Goldenstein Gallery (390 N. SR 89A in Uptown; 928-204-1765) for daily artist receptions from 11 a.m.-1 p.m. He will also be honored by the Sedona Arts Festival for his life’s achievements.
The events kick off on Oct. 7 with an invitation-only celebrity reception at Goldenstein Gallery from 6-8:30 p.m. On Oct. 8 at 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. respectively, Some Like it Hot and Sweet Smell of Success will be screened at Harkins Theatres Sedona 6 (2081 SR 89A in West Sedona; call 928-282-1177 for info), with a live interview of Curtis conducted by Turner Classic Movies host Robert Osborne. Tickets are $15 for one show or $25 for both shows.
On Oct. 9, “An Intimate Evening with Tony Curtis,” a gala event hosted by the Sedona Arts Festival, takes place in the ballroom at L’Auberge de Sedona (301 L’Auberge Ln. in Uptown). Tickets are $125 and available at 928-204-9456. Curtis will sign copies of his new book, The Making of Some Like It Hot, at the 19th annual Sedona Arts Festival on Oct. 10 from 11 a.m.-1p.m. at Sedona Red Rock High School (995 Upper Red Rock Loop Rd. in West Sedona), where his art will also be available for purchase.
Joe McNeill, Sedona Monthly’s creative director (and resident film buff whose history of Sedona moviemaking is scheduled for publication in March 2010), visited with Curtis at his home in Las Vegas this past July for an exclusive chat about Hollywood, art and the old neighborhood back in Manhattan.
 Sedona Monthly: How did you get into art? In American Prince, you mention you’ve always liked art. How did you first realize you had talent?
Tony Curtis: I was a kid in New York City. I used to chalk the sidewalks. I decided to draw cars with chalk – anything. I enjoyed it. So that was where it started. I was always playing around with it, always drawing. It wasn’t until just a little while ago that I began to realize how much I love it and how much I like to do it.
When you first went to LA and got into the movies, did you continue with your art when you had free time?
I did it all the time – I never stopped. Between shots, I’d take my script and do drawings on it or get a pad and do it. So I stayed within the movie and never had to leave the set. This way you had a chance to have another life within the life. I liked it a lot.
Do you have a medium you prefer?
I’ve extended myself to another level. I know of one other artist [who] does this. I find myself on the edge of something new and intriguing. I’ve taken everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve drawn and I put them inside boxes. [It’s like] Joseph Cornell. It was an extension of Cornell for me. We were good friends. Fabulous man. It was through him I found an interest in that. I haven’t [created] any in about six months, but I have over 100 – 150, maybe. We’re going to do a book with [these boxes]. We’re going to photograph them and do a book for a table … or a bed [laughs]. Whatever is most appealing.
How do you come up with ideas to paint?
You know what does it? My desire to improve myself as a painter. The only way you can do it is with a pencil and a piece of paper and constantly be drawing those lines. Before you know it, you get what perspective is. You get what the interior of a room is. You get what a figure is. You begin to understand curves and straight lines – how to make them and how to stay within [them].
Did you take lessons or are you self-taught?
I [took some] at UCLA. Jan Stussy was the teacher – a fabulous man who allowed me the privilege of some of his classes.
When you were filming, you’d go all over the world. Did you ever take advantage of the landscapes you saw? Did you ever pull out a canvas and paint on a Sunday afternoon?
I’d take a camera and I would draw. I didn’t want to carry another satchel with paints. That came later, when I started painting in colors – watercolors and so on.
So what you saw around you is what influenced you?
Yeah, definitely. Art is an emotional experience. If you can show the pain and anger and laughter and joy of the human condition, then you’re working in it. You need that. That’s what art is. Art represents all of the emotions the human condition can have – inside and outside.
Who are your favorite artists?
I like Miró. van Gogh. I love the Italian artists. I forget all their names, but I’ve got them all over the place.
When you were a kid, you wanted to be an actor. Did you ever see a day when you’d be a full-time artist?
I never paid that much attention to it. I got into [art], but not that into it. I was going to wait for an opportunity. But you don’t sit at home and wait. You think about what else you’d like to do. I thought, well, I’d like to be an actor, so I saw a lot of movies. I’d like to be an athlete, a wrestler, so I extended myself in all these areas. I liked stories. I couldn’t write because I had a very poor education – there was no schooling of any kind – so I had no inclination toward being a writer. I had an inclination to be anything and everything I wanted, but I couldn’t because I didn’t have the ability to do it. I would have loved to have been a scientist. Couldn’t do it. A doctor. Couldn’t do it. I could have been any one of those because they all created an imagination. They were all rooted in imagination. I had an imagination. Not that that was good or bad. I had to calm my imagination because I couldn’t do [everything I wanted to do]. There were so many things I could have done.
You did a lot.
Well, I played around a lot. I had one excellent gift, which I have nothing to do with: I was the handsomest kid on the block. If I went down a block, I was the handsomest kid on the second block … and the third and the fourth. And that gave me an opportunity to step out. There were a lot of negative things about it, a lot of problem things about it, in poor neighborhoods where nobody had a nickel. I had a family that offered me money to [pretend to be] their son so they could impress some people. For a poor kid, I was very gifted. I was given a lot of gifts.
One of the things that struck us in your book, American Prince, was the impact, beyond acting, that you had on popular culture. Elvis copied your hair.
Thank you for saying that. What I brought to films was a sense of not caring, a sense of naturalness. There was nothing artificial. Some actors in the method studio – Marlon Brando – took what were natural gifts and embellished them. So I came along and just didn’t do that. That gave every kid on the block the feeling that they could [act].
You influenced a number of generations. The Beatles put you on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
I’m not looking for adulation or for someone to blow smoke in my ear and tell me how great I am. I know who I am and what I am. I know my weaknesses and my strengths. I’m so pleased I was able to pass this on to other people. If they had a gift of some kind, they were able to embellish it, make it part of their lives. If they could do that, they would be happy.
When you were starting out, did you ever dream you’d be such an influential actor?
I never hankered for anything other that expressing myself. Anything I did, I did from step one and built it. When I got to a level where I couldn’t compete anymore, I’d go to something else.
When you were making a movie like Some Like It Hot (1959), did you know instinctively that it was going to be a great movie?
No, there was no way I could know that. I knew there was some ground breaking [aspects]. Guys dressed up like girls, but that had been done before. There were a lot of little things that hadn’t been done – the idea that they had to escape the [St.] Valentine’s [Day] Massacre. Little sections of life. That’s what made it so appealing.
When you first signed a contract with Universal Pictures, how did that work? Did they tell you they needed you today on stage seven on the barroom set or to go grab a tuxedo, today you had to be in the crowd. Is that what you did?
Yeah, that’s what I did. I danced at the Monte Carlo in one film; in another I was a drug salesmen. I had a lot of little roles. I enjoyed those pictures. I didn’t have that much to do, and I had a chance to watch and see how pictures were made. How you got to your line, how you had to stop, how you had to turn. All of those physical things. Those were the things that helped you.
You were really a part of that last group of studio-groomed movie stars. It wasn’t the same with the people who came after you.
When I got into movies, the camera was there; we’d walk around [and] the camera would follow us. We became a piece of the set. We became a sculpture piece, only we spoke and we moved around. That’s what movies were like. Today, actors don’t move. They get into a spot and all they do is close-ups of looking. Then they cut to what they’re looking at. You could be looking at an orgy. You could be looking at a church service. You could be looking at the breakfast mother brings you. That look will work for everyone whereas when you’re in the set, it doesn’t. Your eye reflects all things.
Even the B-pictures, the lower budget pictures, they used to make are better than most of the films being made today.
I think so. I don’t think I’ve seen a movie like Spartacus (1960) or Some Like it Hot. [Someday] they are going to make a picture with a lot of emotional attachments.
Do you have one movie of yours you like more than others?
The Great Race (1965). I loved that. I played honor and goodness and [Jack Lemmon] played the devil. It was the most amusing movie. I liked Sweet Smell of Success (1957), too. Burt Lancaster was the finest actor, the most genuine man I ever knew.
You did a lot of your own stunts in Trapeze (1956).
Yes. I had an inclination for it. As I kid, I would climb up the chain links that led to the El in New York City and hitch on the back of cabs and cars and trolley cars. You see I was doing that already to prepare myself for the movies. It was hard, but I was a good athlete. I never did anything that I felt was beyond what I could do.
A lot of Trapeze is nerve-wracking because you can see it’s really you and Burt Lancaster doing the high-wire work. Yes. Well, I did that. They showed me what to do if you fell. There was a big net underneath. I trained for about six months. I became part of the circus and it worked. I’ve had a good life. A really good life.
Have you ever been to Sedona?
I’m not sure. When I was making movies as a kid with Universal, they’d send us out on location and we had locations all over Arizona.
Do you have a message for the people of Sedona before you arrive?
Each environment I go [to] is different than the one before and the one after. The weather, the politics, attitudes, what hits the newspapers. It all has effects on the people. With that in mind, I like to make myself part of the environment. Before I come to Sedona, I’ll get some Sedona news to get a feel of what’s going on. Then I’ll be prepared and be able to answer questions like an intelligent person. • |
