We’re all spending a lot of time relaxing in our apartments in this sad corona spring. Too much time, you say? Well, 50 years ago, there was a nightclub called the My Apartment Lounge in Boston that you might have left only with reluctance. It was in the Hotel Vendome, on Commonwealth Avenue at Dartmouth Street, and like everything else on this blog, it comes with a history.
Start with the hotel itself. If ever a building belonged on Comm Ave in the Back Bay, it’s the elegant Vendome, among Boston’s finest examples of Renaissance Revival architecture. The Vendome defined luxury in late 19th century Boston. It was the first public building to install electric lights. There was steam heat in every room if the fireplaces weren’t enough to warm the guests. Two sitting U.S. presidents stayed there, as did luminaries in every field.
There is a darker chapter to the Vendome’s history, too. The hotel fell on hard times, suffered a few suspicious fires, and finally closed in 1970. New owners began a condo conversion the next year. And then tragedy: on June 17, 1972, nine Boston firefighters died fighting a horrific four-alarm fire.
Fifes, Drums, and Red Mills
In the three decades before the Vendome closed, though, there was music in a club just off the lobby. Shortly before the outbreak of World War II, the hotel opened the Fife and Drum Room, where the entertainers performed beneath a mural of the Spirit of ’76. In 1952, management exchanged that Archibald Willard painting for Toulouse-Lautrec posters, and renamed their club Moulin Rouge (photo here). From a jazz perspective, it was a step up. The Nick Jerret Trio worked nightly throughout 1953. Some of Boston’s better mid-fifties vocalists sang there, including Faith Winthrop and Lorraine Cusson, whom Down Beat called “spellbinding” during her lengthy engagement. Pianist and singer Mabel Robinson Simms arrived in 1958 and didn’t leave until the live music policy ended in 1967. By then the club had lost its French accent and was called the My Apartment Lounge.
In early 1968, Mike and Liz Morrison became club managers. When they brought back the music, they did it with a bit of style, even as the hotel around them was failing. People remember the space as comfortable, relaxing, intimate. Mike was a pianist and singer himself; he teamed with Ann Loring in a Jackie-and-Roy kind of pairing that worked regularly in clubs like Paul’s Mall. Liz was an artist whose commercial work included the Luiz Henrique flyer shown on this page. Their first house piano player was a Berklee student, Alan Broadbent. They actually inherited Broadbent, who was already in the lounge and playing appropriately (“working on my Peter Nero chops,” he later explained). They told him to go ahead and play.
The House of Broadbent
Broadbent settled in with bassist Phil Morrison and drummer Vinnie Johnson, and people took notice. Arthur Medoff, writing in Boston After Dark, heard in Broadbent elements of Tyner, Powell, Evans, and Tristano, with whom he studied privately. Medoff wrote, “Everything he played was done in excellent taste. His solos were melodically lovely and logical, and rhythmically and dynamically interesting. Probably most important, they were played without affectation.” And, he added, “Bassist Phil Morrison is excellent both as accompanist and soloist.” Johnson, he thought, was too loud for the setting. Morrison and Johnson eventually departed to join Monty Stark’s band, Stark Reality. Broadbent replaced them with two more of Boston’s young jazz lions, George Mraz and Jeff Brillinger, and added guitarist Mick Goodrick to make it a quartet.
Alan Broadbent’s two years in Boston were busy ones. He studied composing and arranging at Berklee, worked at My Apartment, and arranged for Gene DiStasio’s rollicking Brass Menagerie. And one day a week he studied in New York with Lennie Tristano.
Broadbent’s group began alternating with another fine unit, led by pianist Paul Neves; his trio included bassist Don Pate and drummer Peter Donald. There was no shortage of talent at the My Apartment Lounge.
Although Broadbent, Neves and friends were the bandstand regulars, the Morrisons did schedule a few out-of-towners in late 1968. One was the pianist and singer Blossom Dearie, who was born to play rooms like My Apartment. Another was the Brazilian guitarist and singer Luiz Henrique, who is nearly forgotten by American audiences today.
It all ended for the little jazz hideaway on Dartmouth street in late 1969. Two things happened. First, Broadbent left town in November to join the Woody Herman Orchestra. He later said that Nat Pierce and Jake Hanna came to the club to make the pitch on Herman’s behalf. Then, less than two months later, the hotel itself expired. The Vendome, once so grand it hosted visiting royalty, lost its hotel operator’s license in December. The My Apartment Lounge had no choice but to close with it. The Morrisons were out of a job, and I have yet to learn what they did next. Then came the fatal fire, and after that the condominiums. The developers had no interest in reviving a cozy pub where splendid jazz trios might play.
Sounds: Broadbent and Henrique
I know of no recordings of Alan Broadbent at the My Apartment Lounge, but here he is on piano with the Brass Menagerie, playing his arrangement of “Smiling Phases” in 1969.
Alan Broadbent is still going strong in 2020. Fifty years after his last set at the corner of Dartmouth and Comm Ave, he released a solo album, To the Evening Star. Here is the title track.
Luiz Henrique followed the samba from his homeland to the States in 1964, but he was neither a commercial success like Sergio Mendes, nor a jazz darling like Joao Gilberto. His Verve recordings favored his singing at the expense of his guitar playing. Henrique returned to Brazil in 1971, where he died in a car crash in 1985. Here he is with Herbie Mann at Newport in 1967, singing “Agua De Beber.”
I loved going to the My Apartment Lounge taking any friend with me that I could interest! I had some long chats with John Abercrombie and Monty Stark. I really loved Monty’s vibe. Wish there was still a venue like this old favorite.
My husband and I danced to Mabel almost every weekend. She was a favorite.
Linda and Robert sullivan
I’m always interested in learning more about Mabel. She had a long career singing and playing piano in this town.
Such a great experience playing with Alan and Vinnie at My Apartment Lounge. I remember Alan diligently doing is Berklee homework in between sets.
Richard, thanks for the memories and resurrecting some of the jazz activity in Boston back in the day!
Thank you Phil. And thanks for all that great music in the first place! Readers: check out Phil and his music at his website, http://www.philmorrisonmusic.com.
I am Luiz Henrique’s sister. I live in Fort Lauderdale and I am very happy to see my brother in your page. He was a great musician. His son is doing a great job putting together all his albums.
You are welcome to visit his Instagram, officialluizhenrique and site, http://www.luizhenriquerosa.com
Nara, thank you for letting us know about the albums and the website.
Just a few blocks from the Workshop, which was my inevitable destination when I ventured down there during high school years. I walked by several times and regretfully, never went in
Yeah, that must have been the reason! Stay well.
My sister Bette married Roger Vogler circa 1955 – – the ceremony was held in the Old North Church and the reception was at the Vendome. I remember walking out onto a large patio kinda high up and I
remember that one or more of my five brothers had unexpected hangovers from drinking champagne at the same volume and rate as the beer they were more accustomed to.
Good memories. Wish I had been more aware of what was going on in the rest of the Vendome that night. But of course what’s saddest of all is that Roger left us a few weeks ago, and Bette preceded him in 2003.
I’m lifting my coffee cup high in praise of your warming memories of a cool Boston hotel on this glorious spring afternoon in Croton on Hudson, New York.
Happy to stir the memory pot, but sad to hear about Roger. You have my condolences. If his wedding wasn’t in the dead of winter, your brothers were probably taking the air on the Vendome’s roof garden. Had you stopped by the Moulin Rouge in 1955, you might have heard Lorraine Cusson, something of a mystery woman in Boston jazz history. Originally from Holyoke, sang with Thornhill, well-regarded, no less than Leonard Feather was working to arrange a NY recording contract. But then the trail goes cold. Who knows, maybe she’s in the NYC area near you. Stay safe down there —
Dick, that’s one I totally missed, and I was going to BU at the time just a few blocks away.
I am sure you missed it only because you were hitting the books. How could the Alan Broadbent Trio ever hope to compete with a late night at the library?