numbers like “The ‘Dolly’ Sisters,” each had her own business—though she does feel that, because she trained as a dancer, not a singer, Michael Cohen gave Madeline better songs in
Just for Openers
. She and Madeline remained close over the years, sometimes going to dinner together with Cohen, and Aberlin was among the few permitted to see Madeline at the end of her life. She describes Madeline as “a
neshuma
, a precious soul.”
Aberlin has fond memories of going out with cast members and friends after
Just for Openers
finished for the night. They’d play girl-group songs on the jukebox and sing harmony. This kind of socializing had important benefits for Madeline, since the Upstairs shows attracted other talented performers who wanted to see their prospective colleagues (or rivals) performing current material. Among the connections Madeline made at this time were George Coe and Robert Klein, with each of whom she would work many times, and Jim Catusi, a comic who waited tables at the Upstairs, with whom she began an affair.
By the time Madeline started seeing Catusi in 1967, she’d gone back to live with her mother in Queens. Freda had taken secretarial jobs, first at a company called 21 Brands, then at Actors Equity. She hadn’t given up her theatrical ambitions, though she had given up her first name (on the advice of a numerologist, she later said). She was now Paula Kahn, and she had headshots and résumés printed up, listing many credits—somehonest, some exaggerated, and some entirely fabricated. When Paula ran low on money, Madeline demonstrated her sense of responsibility, relinquishing her independence and her apartment in Manhattan to move back to Romeo Court and help support her mother. Jef Kahn remembers that he had taken the larger of the children’s bedrooms during Madeline’s absence, and when she returned, she allowed him to keep it.
Living with Paula complicated Madeline’s love life. Jim Catusi complained to his friend Brandon Maggart that after a bender, he’d call up Madeline at five o’clock in the morning only to spend the next hour talking to Paula. Maggart remembers that for a while Madeline moved in with Catusi. If so, it was the only time she lived with a boyfriend. But his alcoholism “was not her thing,” Robert Klein says, and the relationship couldn’t survive. 26 Catusi was “the only person I ever knew that was funnier drunk than sober,” Maggart says. “Usually, it’s the other way around: a drunk person thinks they’re funny and they’re not. But he was unfortunately not at his best when he had a few drinks under his belt.” (Both men later went into recovery.) In 1969, the two joined a revue at the Upstairs, where producer Jon Stone spotted them and signed them for a series of vaudeville-style sketches on a new children’s show,
Sesame Street
. As “Buddy and Jim,” they taught kids how
not
to get through a door with an ironing board, and how
not
to hang a picture.
Catusi and Maggart—like Aberlin and Graubart—found a berth in children’s television, as did many other veterans of New York’s nightclub revues, and their sensibilities informed the shows in which they appeared. On the straitlaced
Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood
, Aberlin sang frequently, but her comedic gifts found few outlets.
Sesame Street
and
The Electric Company
, however, took a zanier approach. Had Madeline not pursued her other options so avidly, then she, too, might have wound up on children’s television in the 1970s as a regular, not as a guest star. Such a gig could have translated into steady work and the enduring affection of a generation or more of children, but the tradeoff was typecasting, as both Aberlin and Graubart would discover. In 1997, Graubart even lost a plum role in the film
Judy Berlin
to a better-known actor, her former Upstairs co-star, Madeline Kahn.
Upstairs at the Downstairs provided Madeline with an extraordinary showcase. The shows there garnered
Just for Openers
. She and Madeline remained close over the years, sometimes going to dinner together with Cohen, and Aberlin was among the few permitted to see Madeline at the end of her life. She describes Madeline as “a
neshuma
, a precious soul.”
Aberlin has fond memories of going out with cast members and friends after
Just for Openers
finished for the night. They’d play girl-group songs on the jukebox and sing harmony. This kind of socializing had important benefits for Madeline, since the Upstairs shows attracted other talented performers who wanted to see their prospective colleagues (or rivals) performing current material. Among the connections Madeline made at this time were George Coe and Robert Klein, with each of whom she would work many times, and Jim Catusi, a comic who waited tables at the Upstairs, with whom she began an affair.
By the time Madeline started seeing Catusi in 1967, she’d gone back to live with her mother in Queens. Freda had taken secretarial jobs, first at a company called 21 Brands, then at Actors Equity. She hadn’t given up her theatrical ambitions, though she had given up her first name (on the advice of a numerologist, she later said). She was now Paula Kahn, and she had headshots and résumés printed up, listing many credits—somehonest, some exaggerated, and some entirely fabricated. When Paula ran low on money, Madeline demonstrated her sense of responsibility, relinquishing her independence and her apartment in Manhattan to move back to Romeo Court and help support her mother. Jef Kahn remembers that he had taken the larger of the children’s bedrooms during Madeline’s absence, and when she returned, she allowed him to keep it.
Living with Paula complicated Madeline’s love life. Jim Catusi complained to his friend Brandon Maggart that after a bender, he’d call up Madeline at five o’clock in the morning only to spend the next hour talking to Paula. Maggart remembers that for a while Madeline moved in with Catusi. If so, it was the only time she lived with a boyfriend. But his alcoholism “was not her thing,” Robert Klein says, and the relationship couldn’t survive. 26 Catusi was “the only person I ever knew that was funnier drunk than sober,” Maggart says. “Usually, it’s the other way around: a drunk person thinks they’re funny and they’re not. But he was unfortunately not at his best when he had a few drinks under his belt.” (Both men later went into recovery.) In 1969, the two joined a revue at the Upstairs, where producer Jon Stone spotted them and signed them for a series of vaudeville-style sketches on a new children’s show,
Sesame Street
. As “Buddy and Jim,” they taught kids how
not
to get through a door with an ironing board, and how
not
to hang a picture.
Catusi and Maggart—like Aberlin and Graubart—found a berth in children’s television, as did many other veterans of New York’s nightclub revues, and their sensibilities informed the shows in which they appeared. On the straitlaced
Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood
, Aberlin sang frequently, but her comedic gifts found few outlets.
Sesame Street
and
The Electric Company
, however, took a zanier approach. Had Madeline not pursued her other options so avidly, then she, too, might have wound up on children’s television in the 1970s as a regular, not as a guest star. Such a gig could have translated into steady work and the enduring affection of a generation or more of children, but the tradeoff was typecasting, as both Aberlin and Graubart would discover. In 1997, Graubart even lost a plum role in the film
Judy Berlin
to a better-known actor, her former Upstairs co-star, Madeline Kahn.
Upstairs at the Downstairs provided Madeline with an extraordinary showcase. The shows there garnered
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