Thursday, Jan. 03, 2008

Milestones

DIED

ONLY HALF-JOKINGLY he called himself the "Godfather, the Samurai, the leader, the warrior." That may sound a bit over the top for a publishing executive. But in his world of high-fashion magazines, Steven Florio, longtime CEO of Conde Nast, had a point. Expert at imagining creative ways to win and please advertisers, the charming Florio boosted the company that produces Vogue, Glamour and Vanity Fair to the second largest in the industry during the '90s, when many magazines were flagging. Florio was 58 and died after a heart attack.

BEFORE HE LAUNCHED A musical-parody troupe that wryly skewered pols from both sides of the aisle, Bill Strauss was a policy expert and adviser on serious matters of the Senate. Then at a Memorial Day party in 1981, a group of Beltway revelers broke into silly ad-lib ditties about the Reagan Administration, and the bipartisan Capitol Steps was born. Since 1984, when Strauss took the troupe professional, it has become a $3 million-a-year business, recording 29 albums and touring widely. Among its repertoire: My Momma Told Me: You Better Sleep Around (inspired by Monica Lewinsky); The Angina Monologues (Dick Cheney) and The Sound of Music-inspired How Do You Solve a Problem Like Scalia? Strauss was 60 and had pancreatic cancer.

IN THE 1960S AND '70S, A distinctly Irish phenomenon was the show band, a group that played to packed arenas and covered international pop hits. Singer Joe Dolan, known as Ireland's "national aphrodisiac," was one of its most celebrated acts. Unlike others, Dolan also found success overseas with original material. His 1969 tune Make Me an Island reached No. 3 on Britain's pop charts (and No. 1 in a dozen other countries). A cross between Tom Jones and Tony Bennett, Dolan never took himself too seriously. After a 2005 hip replacement, he sold his old hip on eBay for charity. He was 68 and died of a brain hemorrhage.

WHO DOESN'T LOVE mocking a really cheesy TV ad? But advertising can at times have the power to strike a deep chord and even spawn lasting pop-culture icons. Award-winning adman Philip Dusenberry, longtime chairman of BBDO North America, created those kinds of pitches. His magic, say his peers, was an intuitive sense of the emotional impact of his work. Before taking on the Partnership for a Drug-Free America and, in the wake of 9/11, New York City tourism ads, Dusenberry led such campaigns as "Pepsi: The Choice of a New Generation" (including, regrettably, the commercial in which Michael Jackson's hair caught fire); "It's Not TV. It's HBO"; GE's "We Bring Good Things to Life"; and Visa's "It's Everywhere You Want to Be." He was 71 and had lung cancer.

FOR MANY, DANCE CAN BE an intimidating, highbrow art form, but five-time Tony Award-winning choreographer Michael Kidd (above left) insisted that every move be "completely understandable." Kidd's philosophy of grounding dance in reality--he called it "human behavior, stylized into musical rhythmic forms"--propelled some of Broadway's and Hollywood's most memorable sequences. Among them: the barn-raising dance in the 1954 film Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse's heavenly romp through Central Park in The Band Wagon and the dynamic sequences for the original stage production of Guys and Dolls. Kidd was 92.

APPRECIATION

The Dazzler

The exquisite, sophisticated pianist, perhaps jazz's greatest, may have acquired some of his famed precision from the rough-hewn lessons of his father, who was known to beat him when he hit a wrong note, but Canadian Oscar Peterson's technical skills were only part of his genius. Peterson, whom Duke Ellington called the Maharaja of the Keyboard, took the piano to new heights as soloist; sideman (for Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie); composer; and leader of the Oscar Peterson Trio, which some call jazz's finest. He could hold back, then rip down the keyboard at lightning speed; he was a hard-swinging, dizzying improvisor on technically and creatively stunning works like Canadiana Suite and Blues Etude. He made 300 records and won eight Grammys. His passion was improvisation, which he called a "daredevil enterprise." He succumbed to kidney failure on Dec. 23 at 82.

With reporting by Alexandra Silver, Amy Sullivan, Andrea Ford, Carolyn Sayre, Gilbert Cruz, Harriet Barovic, Jackson Dykman, Tiffany Sharples