[Dixielandjazz] Ms. Patti Page Still Keeps On Ticking

[Stephen Barbone]

She may not be OKOM, but then she sold the most single records of a song
of any female singer in history. Ten Million copies which mkes her
somebody's KOM.

Cheers,
Steve

August 12, 2003 - New York Times

Patti Page, Proving That Simple Songs Endure

By BERNARD WEINRAUB

      SOLANA BEACH, Calif. — Fifty years ago Patti Page was the most
successful female pop singer in the nation. Her hits — including "The
Doggie in the Window," "Tennessee Waltz" and "Old Cape Cod" — seemed
bland and innocent, a reflection of the 1950's.

"A couple of critics back then said my voice was like milquetoast," Miss
Page said with a laugh at her home here. "My music was called plastic,
antiseptic, placid. It was only five or so years after the war, a
different time. A simpler time. The music was simpler, too."

Miss Page is still singing, usually for older fans who take their
grandchildren to hear her. Her voice is still sweet and near perfect.

At 75 she is not quite having a renaissance; her music, she knows, is
too quaint and benign for younger audiences. But Miss Page, who was
friends with Elvis Presley and was at the historic "Ed Sullivan Show" in
1964 where the Beatles made their American debut ("I just felt they were
cute kids"), is seeing a career resurgence.

She gives nearly 50 concerts a year, performing with a six-piece band in
midsize cities. An album of children's songs, "Child of Mine," which
includes a reggae-tinged reprise of "Doggie in the Window," was released
on July 1. Mercury Records recently released "The Best of Patti Page:
The Millennium Collection." Last year she had her first holiday album
since 1966, "Sweet Sounds of Christmas." Miss Page won a Grammy Award
for her 1998 album, "Live at Carnegie Hall." She said, "It amazes me
that my records are still selling."

She has sold more than 100 million records, making her one of the top
female recording artists in history. She has 15 gold records, and her
recording of "Tennessee Waltz" sold 10 million copies, the
biggest-selling single ever recorded by a woman. Miss Page was also the
first to overdub vocals in the studio, essentially sounding as if she
were singing in harmony with herself. The overdubbed song was "Confess,"
in 1948.

A cheerful, no-nonsense woman, Miss Page has lived in this San Diego
suburb for years with her second husband, Jerry Filiciotto, a retired
aerospace engineer. Her first husband, Charles O'Curran, was a Hollywood
choreographer who staged Elvis Presley films. They were divorced in
1972.

She explained her longevity simply: "I kept singing. Your voice dries up
if you don't use it. And I can still do it. I stopped smoking 30 years
ago, and if I were still smoking, believe me, I would not be singing."

Does she still get nervous? "Now the nervous part is, Can I still hit
those high notes?" she said. "And I do.

"What I like about singing is that, for me, it's a substitute for the
psychiatrist's couch. I can tell it all in song: pathos, gladness, love,
joy, unhappiness. Each song, you're telling a story and acting."

Some 50's singers retained a loyal fan base but were overshadowed, if
not overwhelmed, by the Beatles and the advent of rock. With a few
exceptions, like Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Peggy Lee and Tony
Bennett, that generation seemed instantly dated and never quite
recovered.

Miss Page's music, like that of Georgia Gibbs, Eddie Fisher, Vic Damone,
Teresa Brewer, Frankie Laine and other contemporaries, was benign,
almost chaste, unpolitical. "That's what people wanted," she said with a
shrug.

One of her close friends was Rosemary Clooney, who died last year. "When
we were both on the road we'd get together and have girl talk," Miss
Page recalled.

She is quietly acerbic about some contemporary music: "A lot of the
music, and especially rap, I don't understand." As for pop stars like
Madonna, Miss Page said: "I never had the occasion to listen. I never
felt it warranted my attention."

Miss Page's life has been far less placid than her songs. Her childhood
was marked by poverty. She was born Clara Ann Fowler in Claremore,
Okla., the second youngest of 11 children of a railroad laborer. Her
mother and older sisters picked cotton. She often went without shoes.
Because the family saved money on electricity, the only radio shows Miss
Page heard as a child were "Grand Old Opry," "The Eddie Cantor Show" and
"Chicago Barn Dance."

"I loved to read, but I could only read in the daytime," she recalled.
"I never knew what it was to have lights. Maybe subconsciously I sought
to be in a world where there were plenty of lights."

At 13, having won a scholarship to study art, Miss Page obtained work in
a radio station art department in Tulsa. But a station had heard her
sing at a school assembly and asked her to audition to replace a singer
on a show called "The Meet Patti Page Show" sponsored by the Page Milk
Company. She got the job, becoming the fictional Patti Page of the
airwaves.

Several years later a touring band manager named Jack Rael heard her on
the radio and persuaded her to leave the show and become a featured
vocalist with Jimmy Joy and his band. The singer, by now 18, decided to
keep the name Patti Page. She was soon signed by Mercury Records. Her
first hit was "Confess." It climbed to No. 12 on the charts and was
followed by her first million-selling record, "With My Eyes Wide Open
I'm
Dreaming." Next came another million seller, "All My Love."

As the 1950's dawned, Miss Page recorded a Christmas novelty, "Boogie
Woogie Santa Claus." On the B side of the Mercury release was "Tennessee
Waltz," which unexpectedly caught fire, became a huge best seller and
catapulted Miss Page to stardom. (The song is now one of Tennessee's
official state songs.)

"I have no idea why it took off," Miss Page said. "There's a simplicity
about it. Someone introduces their boyfriend to someone else, and now
he's no longer her boyfriend. It's just a sad love song."

By the mid-50's she was the best-selling female singer in the nation.
She repeatedly won awards from Billboard and Cashbox Magazine as
America's favorite vocalist. Her silky voice and high-cheekbone good
looks led her to appearances on virtually every television variety show.

The upheavals of the 60's and 70's caused audiences to turn against
sedate 50's music, but Miss Page continued to perform at clubs and
abroad. She had a particularly large following in Japan. In recent years
PBS honored Miss Page with a 90-minute retrospective. Her CD, "Patti
Page Live at Carnegie Hall — the 50th Anniversary Concert," recorded in
1997, earned Miss Page her first Grammy Award.

Miss Page and her first husband, Mr. O'Curran, adopted a son and a
daughter. Miss Page and Mr. Filiciotto have temporary guardianship of
two of her daughter's young children. Miss Page said that the children's
mother had been seriously troubled in recent years and unable to care
for the children.

Miss Page, Mr. Filiciotto and the two children divide their time between
Southern California and New Hampshire, where the couple have a
mail-order business producing pancake mixes and syrup.

But Miss Page's focus is still on her 1950's music. She still receives
fan mail, still receives many invitations to perform and still listens
every day to her favorite music.

"On the radio I listen to the easy-listening stations, the jazz
stations," Miss Page said, seated on the sofa in the late afternoon. "I
spend a lot of time listening to Tony and Frank and Ella. I knew them
all."