Oh dear....this article about her farewell concert is kind of horrifying and touching at the same time!
-----------------------------
from THE NEW YORKER (2013) "Elaine Stritch’s Long Goodbye"
[italic] ....What wasn’t clear to everyone right away was that Stritch had to be in control of the room...She also didn’t like it when people messed with the mood she created; this happened, rather painfully, during the Sondheim section. She is, of course, famous for singing his songs, and has made them her own—“The Ladies Who Lunch,” from “Company”; “I’m Still Here,” from “Follies”—but finds them demanding, especially now. “You can’t get better than him. But let me tell you how hard he is to sing, honest to God! What’s that art school—it’s like being locked in the john at Juilliard!” She first met Sondheim, she said, at an elegant party on Park Avenue decades ago, full of rich people. “They said, ‘Elaine, sing!’ They used to ask me to sing and make ’em laugh at parties.” Sondheim was to accompany her, and asked her to sing her favorite song; she had said that it was Rodgers and Hart’s “He Was Too Good to Me.”
“And Sondheim said, ‘Holy Toledo, Elaine, that’s my favorite too.’ And I sat down next to Steve Sondheim, and I dedicated it to him, as I do tonight, with all my heart,” Stritch said. She sat down on the stool. The room was quiet—focussed and grateful. “Guess who made my stay in New York twice as joyful? Stephen Sondheim.” Bowman played the piano, and she sang. “He was too good to me.” It was beautiful, tender, sad. But a few lines later, by accident, instead of “I was his queen to him,” she sang, “He was a queen—I was a queen too,” and got laughs. The laughter felt generous enough—the familiar camp laugh of the musical-theatre crowd, a crowd made comfortable by the intimacy of the café and the love in the room—but she hadn’t meant the joke, and the laugh upset her. “That was unintentional!” she said. People kept laughing, thinking that she was having fun, but she wasn’t. “I don’t play dirty, and that’s not very nice. Get it out of your lives, it’s not going to do you any good.” She sang again. But the next line was “I was gay now.” A man seated to the side of the piano—Riedel—laughed. She turned toward him. “Are you having fun?” she said acidly. “That’s another one you picked up.” She sang more lines, back on track, and that was nice too. “I’m so sorry that that happened,” she said to the room, as Bowman played more notes on the piano. “But let it happen with love and respect, and not bullshit like that.” The crowd was startled—weren’t we all having a good time?—and sorry. People clapped to show their support. When Stritch sang again, the mood was good. Then she did something lovely, weaving some “Porgy and Bess” into the Rodgers and Hart—“He was too good to me. Morning time and evening time, summertime and wintertime, he was too good to me.” The song came to a delicate, gentle conclusion. [/italic]