Arts & Entertainment
From Broadway to Hollywood
‘Double Life’ memoir recounts 50-year love story of artist and TV mogul
From left, Alan Shayne and Norman Sunshine with Christine Baranski and Charles Busch at a launch party for their book in November. They’ll be in Washington this week for a similar event. (Photo courtesy Scott Manning & Associates)
Careers in the arts are never easy, but for every Sinatra, Hepburn or Garland there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of actors, singers and behind-the-scenes moguls and designers who manage long, successful careers in New York or Hollywood without becoming household names.
Alan Shayne and Norman Sunshine are two such figures. Shayne is a former actor-turned-casting agent-turned TV mogul who nurtured hit ‘70s shows like “Dukes of Hazzard” and “Alice” to the airwaves during his 10 years as president of Warner Brothers Television. Sunshine, his partner of 50 years, is a painter and sculptor who made ads for Blackglama Minks (“What becomes a legend most?”) and Danskins (“Danskins are not just for dancing”) famous between stints of having his own exhibitions and commercial projects. After decades of navigating the thick jungles and uphill battles of the art world and entertainment industry, one wonders their thoughts on the ways of those worlds: with tenacity, does the cream inevitably rise or have we missed geniuses along the way?
They say it’s gotten tougher to “make it” over time.
“I think the thing I’ve observed in the fine arts is the phenomenon of money coming into play more and more in which careers are measured by the amount of money that can be made off of it,” Sunshine says. “All these art fairs are really about money, the dealers and collectors being able to make money off of it. It’s different. I don’t know how one quite survives that … there’s a horrendous fickleness now on a scale we’ve not seen before.”
Shayne, who gave up acting because casting seemed more stable and practical, agrees.
“It’s a really tough road to hoe,” he says. “In my day, I could go to New York and live and rent a room for $5 a week and make it work. Now you can’t possibly do that. I don’t know how the young actors and young artists do it today. Yes, the Meryl Streeps and the Dustin Hoffmans and the Robert De Niros are going to succeed but I worry about some of the little people who are also very talented.”
In November, the two had their joint autobiography published by Magnus Books — “Double Life: a Love Story from Broadway to Hollywood.” They’ll be in Washington Monday for a private reception for the book.
A self portrait of the couple by Sunshine. (Image courtesy the couple)
And even though the book is drawing raves — Joan Rivers called it “beautifully written” and “filled with humor” and legendary critic Rex Reed called it a “riveting” book by “two extraordinary men” — Shayne and Sunshine, who worked on it for about three years, say getting it published was not easy.
“We got the most glowing rejection letters you could imagine from the leading publishing houses,” Shayne says.
He says it was worth the effort to get the book in print to show that long-term gay relationships are possible.
“We’d been terribly disturbed by the suicides,” Shayne says. “Time magazine did a story where they talked to young gays in their 20s who didn’t believe any [gay] relationship could last past 10 years. People have told us we’re a rather inspirational couple so we decided to tell our story.”
“There had always been this thinking that, ‘Oh God, it’s a terrible life,’” Sunshine says. “We wanted to kind of deal with that issue and let people know we’re not always in feathers or this and that. We’re like you. We have the same loves, desires and careers. We felt we had a responsibility to tell that story.”
And it is quite a story. With fun anecdotes of the famous paths with whom they’ve crossed — Lena Horne, Laurence Olivier, Marlon Brando, David Susskind, Helen Hayes, George Cukor, Katharine Hepburn, Norman Lear, Bette Davis, Rock Hudson and more make memorable appearances — the book is delightfully shameless in its name dropping.
Just as vivid, though, are lengthy passages where the two write evocatively of what it was like to be gay in the ‘50s and ‘60s, to what degree they were able to be out (if at all) and how their relationship evolved over the decades. Shorn of any Jackson-Paris-type false idealism — they make it clear it wasn’t always a bed of roses — their experiences come vividly to life.
“We felt we had to be totally honest for the book to work,” Shayne says. “We found out things about each other we didn’t know but we felt if we weren’t totally honest about it, what would be the point? Otherwise it would be so goody-goody you couldn’t stand it. But we got through it and that’s really the story of our relationship. We ended up supporting each other.”
“A lot of people have identified very strongly with the book,” Sunshine says. “It gives them insight into the time period and the history of the gay situation vis-à-vis us.”
During a lengthy phone chat from their home in Palm Beach, Fla., the two — on a joint call — happily elaborate on topics touched on in the book.
Though they still drink, it’s mostly just wine these days —they’ve traded in the Rob Roys they drank copiously for years for California chardonnay.
Norman, left, and Alan on their wedding day. (Photo courtesy the couple)
They attribute their long careers to their mutual abilities to adapt. Some opportunities came out of nowhere — like the Tiffany display that helped launch Sunshine’s impressive art career — while others were built piece by piece through painstaking work like the cards Shayne kept on each actor he saw so he’d have a bounty of suggestions to directors casting various projects.
Their various country houses — in Pennsylvania, Connecticut and more — have helped them grow together, they say.
“In the ‘50s, when you couldn’t really be openly gay, our homes became terribly important to us and we were happiest when we were there by ourselves,” Shayne says.
He also says the popular notion that CBS didn’t care about “Alice” spin-off “Flo,” an eponymous sitcom for Polly Holliday’s sassy character, isn’t true. It was not a victim, he says, of the network carelessly changing the show’s time slot repeatedly in those pre-VCR or TiVo days. Shayne says he worked hard to make “Flo” fly just as he’d done with “Alice” in its rocky first season but ultimately the audience wasn’t buying the character in a world outside Mel’s Diner.
But how did “Alice” succeed another five seasons without its most popular character while “Flo” failed?
“I love Polly and at the time, it seemed like a good idea to bring Diane (Ladd — who’d played Flo in the film) back (to ‘Alice’),” Shayne says. “We really had hoped ‘Flo’ would be a big success and believe me, we did everything. We changed writers, changed producers, nothing seemed to work, but God knows we tried. … the public kind of wanted her there saying, ‘Kiss my grits’ in the diner and she became really a different character when she had her own show. She wanted to be different … CBS was actually very cooperative.”
Ironically perhaps, Shayne and Sunshine say though they socialized several times with Cukor, the legendary “old Hollywood” director who was gay and famous for his parties, they never discussed their relationship or homosexuality with him.
“He knew we were a couple, he would invite us both to dinner, but it was always a mixed group. Sometimes Kate (Hepburn, who lived in Cukor’s guest house when she was on the West Coast) would stop by and say hello, but it was all very proper … I don’t think he ever mentioned the word gay to us,” Shayne says.
As for the changing times, they say it’s only in the last eight or 10 years that they’ve felt comfortable being fully out in all aspects of their lives. They wed in Massachusetts eight years ago initially for practical reasons. They were pleasantly shocked at how welcomed they were by the hotel staff where they stayed.
“AIDS really exploded the conversation on gay issues,” Sunshine says. “It was the instrument by which the whole gay thing came out as a national discussion.”
And what about the irony of Sunshine being the Emmy winner in the family despite Shayne’s long career in television (Sunshine won for titles he designed for a special in the mid-‘70s)?
“Can you hear me gnashing my teeth,” Shayne says.
Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.
When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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Theater
Minimal version of ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ heading to Dupont Underground
Director Nick Westrate on this traveling take on Williams’s masterwork
‘A Streetcar Named Desire’
Produced by The Streetcar Project
April 20-May 4
Dupont Underground
19 Dupont Circle, N.W.
Tickets start at $85.
Dupontunderground.org
An aggressively minimal version of Tennessee Williams’s “A Streetcar Named Desire” is poised to run at Dupont Underground (April 20-May 4), the nonprofit cultural space located in a repurposed, abandoned 1949 streetcar station beneath Dupont Circle.
The Streetcar Project’s production performs in site-specific spaces. It’s almost entirely without design elements. There is no steamy, cramped Vieux Carré apartment. You won’t see Blanche’s battered trunk exploding with cheap finery, faded love letters, and demands for back property taxes, or the familiar costumes.
Co-created by Lucy Owen (who stars as Blanche DuBois) and out director Nick Westrate in 2023, this traveling spare take on Williams’s masterwork about a fragile woman on the margins in conflict with her brutish brother-in-law seems a reaction to necessity. It’s also an exploration of whether, like Shakespeare’s “Henry V,” it can subsist on language alone.
With little distractions (even Blanche’s cultivated southern belle accent has been daringly stripped away), the spotlight shines almost solely on text. “This play holds that,” says Westrate, 42. “I remind the actors that the while there is plenty of movement, language is really the only game in town.”
New York-based Westrate, who’s best known as an esteemed actor with New York and regional credits including Prior Walter in János Szász’s production of “Angels in America” at Arena Stage, describes “Streetcar” as “the most perfect play on earth” but not one he thinks of acting in (“I’m not right for Stanley Kowalski or Mitch”) though he agreed to direct.
“These days if you’re not a not a movie star or an established director, you’re not likely to do “Streetcar.” So, for us, we have to be able to do it with almost nothing, on the New York subway if necessary. And that’s kind of how we built it.”
Westrate first experienced Dupont Underground while attending a staged reading. He was so obsessed with the space as a prospective place to take the production, he found it hard to concentrate. He says, “With its long, curved track and tunnel, Dupont Underground is a terrifying, beautiful room that carries so much metaphorical weight, so much possibility for our production.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is finding the right space for this “Streetcar” part of the thrill?
NICK WESTRATE: Whenever I enter a weird room or pass by an abandoned CVS, I try to figure out how we might do the show there, especially places that are dilapidated, architecturally odd, or possibly haunted. And each space we use, lends something to the production. The Rachel Comey store in Soho was a very Blanche coded space. And an artist’s workshop on Venice Beach in California with its huge saws and metal hooks lent raw imagery. The scenes between Blanche and Stanley near the end were absolutely terrifying.
BLADE: More recently that same bare bones production has played in more traditional spaces like the Wheeler Opera House in Aspen and San Francisco’s A.C.T. Is it hard to now go to Dupont Underground?
WESTRATE: Each time we do this we have to crack open the play again because the staging is entirely new, but we’re used to performing in unusual spaces and Dupont Underground rather takes us back to form. As a former streetcar station, it’s the most appropriate space we’ve had yet.
The cast will literally act on streetcar tracks and go without dressing rooms but they’re game, and because they have history and authorship over the work, the sacrifice is more meaningful than if they were just some hired guns.
BLADE: Audiences have an expectation, especially with a work they’re likely to know. How do they react seeing such an unadorned take on Williams’s American classic?
WESTRATE: For the first 10 or 15 minutes, they’re unsure. Then, you can pretty much see the audience members’ brains click in and their imaginations turn on. It’s like they’re scratching an itch that they didn’t even know they had.
BLADE: Did you and Lucy foresee gaining this kind of momentum behind your vision?
WESTRATE: Absolutely not. Lucy had a philosophy that we’ll just walk through open doors. Early on, we were given spaces and artists filled the seats, and increasingly we’ve begun to rent some spaces and attract more regular theatergoers.
We basically sell tickets in order to pay a living wage to artists involved. There isn’t some big institution or commercial producer who’s getting a lot of money from this. Audiences of all types seem to respond to this mode of making theater.
BLADE: In presenting “Streetcar” intermittently, usually with the same cast over three years in wildly varying venues, have you learned more about a piece that you already loved?
WESTRATE: Mostly I’ve come to realize that Blanche is the smartest character I’ve ever read in a play. She’s like Hamlet – tormented by dreams and terrified of death. She’s skilled at wordplay and always ahead of everyone else in the room. Also like Hamlet, people think she’s insane and she uses that to her advantage.
Blanche is certainly the Everest of roles for actresses and watching Lucy sort of break it apart in a different way than you’ve ever seen, and knowing that I’ve helped to facilitate this performance has been one of the great joys of my career.
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