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For one brief shining moment that was known as cabaret's Camelot in the late 1980s through the early 1990s, the vocal group Black Tie reigned supreme and unequaled. Comprised of vocalists Nellson Moore and Natalie Robinson along with singer-instrumentalist Ardie Walser, and their rich harmonies notwithstanding, the trio had an interesting angle in that they were as brilliant as delivering such standards as "In The Mood" with self-written Afrocentric songs as "Hold Up The Light" and "Africa," and always to the delight of all who attended.In point of fact, the group will always be remembered for creating a unique cultural crossover unto themselves within the cabaret community, for they were simply one of a kind and will more than likely never be replicated.
For all three members of the group, their communal desire to entertain professionally was borne out of a mutual love of both music and the church. Moore tells me, "It started with listening to my parents' music; Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Dinah Washington, Lou Rawls, etc. I'd play the records and sing and pretend I was giving a concert. Real performing came through the church. I sang through special services at the beginning, and then joined the Inspirational Gospel Choir, where I eventually became the Choir Director and Ardie became the pianist." Walser chimes in, "That was at HHP, the Holy House Of Prayer For All People, at St. John's Place in Brooklyn and under the direction of Elder Edward D. Sangster." He adds, "Music has always been a part of my life. I grew up hearing an amazing mix of artists. Jimmy Smith, James Brown, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, James Cleveland, Sam Cooke, Mahalia Jackson, Sly Stone, The Beatles, Clara Ward, Lawrence Welk and so many others. And the classical music I knew from cartoons," he laughs. "The first time I ever remember performing was for my parents. I have no idea what I was doing, I probably sang a cute tune or said something silly, but they seemed so entertained. But," he continues, "I distinctly remember being surprised by their response, because they laughed and smiled at each other, and gave me their full attention and admiration. And I couldn't wait to repeat the experience." As for Robinson, she says, "I started out as a baby. By the time I was three I was trying to join the children's choir at Concord Baptist Church with my older sister and brother, and I couldn't read, but I could sing. So the choir director, Ms. Lillian Henry, told my mom, 'Oh, we'll just let her join.' Three years later I went on to piano lessons and also opera lessons, with a Ms. Johnson, whose first name I can't recall, but she'd been a coloratura at the Met. And my family exposed me to so much other music; I fell in love with Jackson 5, the Staple Singers, Earl Klugh, Al Jarreau, Luther Vandross, Brothers Johnson, Aerosmith, Queen, Bette Midler and Mick Jagger besides so much else. And," she concludes, "The Who's Tommy album was a particular pleasure."
Long prior to forming the group, each had begun their own foray into performance
as a means of artistic expression on a deeper level, and in some cases were already bonded in their co-development of material. Moore and Walser both became members of the New Media Repertory Company. Headed by the husband and wife team of Frenklin Engle and Miranda McDermott, both spent time as non-musical actors in plays by Chekhov and Oscar Wilde, but were already working on musical arrangements of songs and vocal presentation. Robinson's passion for music, however, led her very much into musical theatre. "At the ripe old age of ten years old," she says, "I auditioned for and got the title role of Crazy Alice with the Harlem Children's Theatre Company. And it took me everywhere from the Public Theater to Africa. In the late 1970s, which I know means I'm dating myself," she laughs. "From there, though, I was completely immersed and there was no turning back. I was directing, I was singing with bands, I was exploring every kind of music I could. And then, of course, all three of us fell in with the Shadow Box Theatre, which is where it all really began for Black Tie."
They quickly settled into the impressive Off-Off-Broadway company, but while Moore was getting restless appearing in the children's theatre productions there, he asked Walser to musical-direct an act for him at the old Trocadero on Bleecker and Charles in the West Village and supply backing vocals. Thus began their initial tread upon the cabaret frontier, and sometime later they asked an actress from the Shadow Box Company to join them on stage. At the same time, Robinson asked Walser to start playing for an act for her, and he felt all of the demands on his time would be far too wearing. "I was a grad student," he tells me, "and I had no time for anything at all, including rehearsing and practicing the piano, much less playing for a show for Nellson and this other lady, and then also playing a show for Natalie.
So, one night, Natalie got together with Nellson and me, we ran through a few numbers, we could tell we had a really good vocal blend, and we became the group." The group, however, didn't have an official name at first. Walser tells me, "We were just Natalie, Nellson and Ardie. And that was such a mouthful. But this one day, the three of us went to buy some sheet music at the Colony Music Store on 49th and Broadway, and all of a sudden Natalie yelled, 'Black Tie! That's our name!' And it worked, and it stuck."
By 1986, the group was debuting at the Duplex when it existed at 55 Grove Street, and word spread like wildfire among the community virtually overnight. It was less than a New York minute before Black Tie was appearing at every major venue in the metropolitan area besides steady club gigs that would endure for months. However, Robinson wasn't ever completely secure in the idea that this would be the limit to her seemingly-endless sky. "I wanted us to be like the Manhattan Transfer," she says, "because they seemed to be able to straddle both worlds, on the small stage and the large. But," she hastens to add, "I never in a million years would have thought that cabaret would get into my blood the way it did. I loved the intimacy, and I loved all the wonderful souls we met along the way." Moore agrees. "Of course we wanted to make it as recording artists, but we also felt so embraced by cabaret, and it was wonderful." Walser adds even deeper thought by saying, "This whole world of cabaret was new to me, and I can't thank Nellson or Natalie enough for exposing me to it. But at the beginning, singing and playing at the same time was entirely new to me and my only goal was to survive each performance. And yes, we wanted to be recording artists as opposed to strictly being performing artists. But we had some lovely opportunities to record background vocals,
particularly for Natalie Douglas, who also directed one of our shows." In fact, it was the multi-award-winning Ms. Douglas who inadvertently caused a singular incident of mistaken identity for the group through no fault of her own. "The late Bob Harrington reviewed us very, very favorably in Back Stage the first time he saw us," Robinson says, "but he referred to me as Natalie Douglas, not Natalie Robinson. It's an easy mistake, but I got HEATED over that. And everyone kept saying, 'Oh, don't worry about it, he made a mistake,' but I couldn't let it go. I called him directly, and he not only took my call but he apologized and printed a retraction, and then gave us his whole column the following week, which was absolutely lovely."
Like any new cabaret sensation finding themselves at the forefront of greatness, Black Tie had their share of surprises. "Well, when we first started," Moore says, "we wrote new material for each of our shows. We thought that's how it was done. So I was surprised when I realized that most acts not only didn't write their own material, but did the same show and sometimes for years. Another surprise, and I'm sorry to say it wasn't a nice surprise, was how hard it was for us to get work out of town. Others had a much easier time." Robinson hastens to add, "The MAC Awards, when we won. What a nice surprise to be honored by your peers! And when we were asked to play Carnegie Hall, and then to be introduced on stage that night by Bill Cosby. That will always be a wonderful memory." Walser finishes, "I think the nicest surprise was the warmth extended by so many other performers. Peter Gloo, Ricky Ritzel, Spider Saloff, Scott Traudt, Scott Newell, Natalie Douglas, and the list just goes on and on. People who were fun to be with, and made sure you knew that you were part of something very special."
By the mid-1990s, Black Tie was firmly fading into the pages of the cabaret history books for a number of reasons, from the logical and practical to the not-altogether pleasant, although the three are as close if not closer than ever and still consider one another family while living miles apart from one another. "Life changed," says Walser. "Things changed, priorities changed, and we'd changed. And if I had my way, we might still be performing in spite of the changes, because I'm just stubborn that way. Well," he adds, "that, plus I really, really miss being on stage with Nellson and Natalie. I think it's just that we'd worked so hard for so long and we just didn't move to a level of success that would have sustained our lives and what are now our families. Something had to give. But it was a wonderful ride and each of us are the better for it." Moore elaborates, "It became just too hard to find work that paid. And all our lives just went in different directions after a time. We all found stable relationships, began families, moved to different places, and when I left New York I know that was the beginning of the end." Robinson concludes, "I have to admit that it stopped being fun, and we all all promised each other that when it stopped being fun, we weren't going to continue. But," she says, "I miss performing with my Ardie and my Nellson. They are two exceptional men, and I cherish them both dearly."
Life has put great distances between the threesome in more ways than one, and yet somehow the parallels between them are downright eerie. Moore initially became a restaurant manager and moved to Vermont, and has children with his longtime partner, at whose basketball games he can occasionally be coaxed (and not reluctantly) to sing the National Anthem. More recently, he once again flexed his dramatic muscles in Other People's Money at the Waterbury Festival Playhouse, and he's made an impressive new foray into radio as the host of "Moore Music A-Z" on WMRW-FM (95.1) on Saturday mornings between 9 and 11am. He's also giving history tours of the Trapp Family Lodge in the famed Vermont village of Stowe, and starts the tour by singing the original lyrics to the classic "Edelweiss." Robinson, meanwhile, went back to school to become a recording engineer, which successfully took her everywhere from the Apollo Theater to Carnegie Hall, before eventually opening her own recording studio, called Alkemist Brew. She and her husband of several years, also run a successful commercial printing company near their Maryland home, called Allegra of Annapolis, and when not busy with work, she's the proud mother of their son Osei-Sekou. "And," she says, "don't be surprised if I'm back performing in music one day soon, because if my husband had his way, I never would have stopped!" As for Walser, for the most part he went the academic route; presently the Associate Dean of the Grove School of Engineering at CCNY, he's also a professor of CUNY's Graduate Center and a Vice-President of the Teaneck School Board in New Jersey. Other academic interests include the Math Adventures & Word Play program in the school system there as well as teaching English to foreign laborers seeking employment through the ESL to go program. And he still finds the time to be a proud and attentive husband and father to his wife and two sons. "Ain't that somethin'?" he laughs. But he also stays active by appearing in an occasional stage play, and performing in jazz combos, including a quintet which featured his son Jarrett Walser on drums.
When all is said and done, of course an obvious question remains. What are the chances for a Black Tie reunion performance, in cabaret or otherwise? "I hope so, God willing!" laughs Robinson. "I think SOME of our fans are still alive!" Moore takes a more somber approach to the question at first. "I don't see us back on the cabaret circuit as a group," he says. "Our lives are so apart now. But," he says with a hint of excitement, "whenever the three of us are in a room with a piano, there is an instant Black Tie reunion and it is always a BLAST! And I'd love for Natalie and Ardie to move to Vermont. We could rip up the resort circuit here with our sound!" It is Walser, however, who offers the final observation, "Anything is possible."
Until that time, those of us who were fortunate to drink in not merely the glorious sounds but the brilliant synergy of Black Tie will cling to our memories with indescribable fondness.
For all three members of the group, their communal desire to entertain professionally was borne out of a mutual love of both music and the church. Moore tells me, "It started with listening to my parents' music; Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Dinah Washington, Lou Rawls, etc. I'd play the records and sing and pretend I was giving a concert. Real performing came through the church. I sang through special services at the beginning, and then joined the Inspirational Gospel Choir, where I eventually became the Choir Director and Ardie became the pianist." Walser chimes in, "That was at HHP, the Holy House Of Prayer For All People, at St. John's Place in Brooklyn and under the direction of Elder Edward D. Sangster." He adds, "Music has always been a part of my life. I grew up hearing an amazing mix of artists. Jimmy Smith, James Brown, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, James Cleveland, Sam Cooke, Mahalia Jackson, Sly Stone, The Beatles, Clara Ward, Lawrence Welk and so many others. And the classical music I knew from cartoons," he laughs. "The first time I ever remember performing was for my parents. I have no idea what I was doing, I probably sang a cute tune or said something silly, but they seemed so entertained. But," he continues, "I distinctly remember being surprised by their response, because they laughed and smiled at each other, and gave me their full attention and admiration. And I couldn't wait to repeat the experience." As for Robinson, she says, "I started out as a baby. By the time I was three I was trying to join the children's choir at Concord Baptist Church with my older sister and brother, and I couldn't read, but I could sing. So the choir director, Ms. Lillian Henry, told my mom, 'Oh, we'll just let her join.' Three years later I went on to piano lessons and also opera lessons, with a Ms. Johnson, whose first name I can't recall, but she'd been a coloratura at the Met. And my family exposed me to so much other music; I fell in love with Jackson 5, the Staple Singers, Earl Klugh, Al Jarreau, Luther Vandross, Brothers Johnson, Aerosmith, Queen, Bette Midler and Mick Jagger besides so much else. And," she concludes, "The Who's Tommy album was a particular pleasure."
Long prior to forming the group, each had begun their own foray into performance
as a means of artistic expression on a deeper level, and in some cases were already bonded in their co-development of material. Moore and Walser both became members of the New Media Repertory Company. Headed by the husband and wife team of Frenklin Engle and Miranda McDermott, both spent time as non-musical actors in plays by Chekhov and Oscar Wilde, but were already working on musical arrangements of songs and vocal presentation. Robinson's passion for music, however, led her very much into musical theatre. "At the ripe old age of ten years old," she says, "I auditioned for and got the title role of Crazy Alice with the Harlem Children's Theatre Company. And it took me everywhere from the Public Theater to Africa. In the late 1970s, which I know means I'm dating myself," she laughs. "From there, though, I was completely immersed and there was no turning back. I was directing, I was singing with bands, I was exploring every kind of music I could. And then, of course, all three of us fell in with the Shadow Box Theatre, which is where it all really began for Black Tie."They quickly settled into the impressive Off-Off-Broadway company, but while Moore was getting restless appearing in the children's theatre productions there, he asked Walser to musical-direct an act for him at the old Trocadero on Bleecker and Charles in the West Village and supply backing vocals. Thus began their initial tread upon the cabaret frontier, and sometime later they asked an actress from the Shadow Box Company to join them on stage. At the same time, Robinson asked Walser to start playing for an act for her, and he felt all of the demands on his time would be far too wearing. "I was a grad student," he tells me, "and I had no time for anything at all, including rehearsing and practicing the piano, much less playing for a show for Nellson and this other lady, and then also playing a show for Natalie.
So, one night, Natalie got together with Nellson and me, we ran through a few numbers, we could tell we had a really good vocal blend, and we became the group." The group, however, didn't have an official name at first. Walser tells me, "We were just Natalie, Nellson and Ardie. And that was such a mouthful. But this one day, the three of us went to buy some sheet music at the Colony Music Store on 49th and Broadway, and all of a sudden Natalie yelled, 'Black Tie! That's our name!' And it worked, and it stuck."By 1986, the group was debuting at the Duplex when it existed at 55 Grove Street, and word spread like wildfire among the community virtually overnight. It was less than a New York minute before Black Tie was appearing at every major venue in the metropolitan area besides steady club gigs that would endure for months. However, Robinson wasn't ever completely secure in the idea that this would be the limit to her seemingly-endless sky. "I wanted us to be like the Manhattan Transfer," she says, "because they seemed to be able to straddle both worlds, on the small stage and the large. But," she hastens to add, "I never in a million years would have thought that cabaret would get into my blood the way it did. I loved the intimacy, and I loved all the wonderful souls we met along the way." Moore agrees. "Of course we wanted to make it as recording artists, but we also felt so embraced by cabaret, and it was wonderful." Walser adds even deeper thought by saying, "This whole world of cabaret was new to me, and I can't thank Nellson or Natalie enough for exposing me to it. But at the beginning, singing and playing at the same time was entirely new to me and my only goal was to survive each performance. And yes, we wanted to be recording artists as opposed to strictly being performing artists. But we had some lovely opportunities to record background vocals,
particularly for Natalie Douglas, who also directed one of our shows." In fact, it was the multi-award-winning Ms. Douglas who inadvertently caused a singular incident of mistaken identity for the group through no fault of her own. "The late Bob Harrington reviewed us very, very favorably in Back Stage the first time he saw us," Robinson says, "but he referred to me as Natalie Douglas, not Natalie Robinson. It's an easy mistake, but I got HEATED over that. And everyone kept saying, 'Oh, don't worry about it, he made a mistake,' but I couldn't let it go. I called him directly, and he not only took my call but he apologized and printed a retraction, and then gave us his whole column the following week, which was absolutely lovely."Like any new cabaret sensation finding themselves at the forefront of greatness, Black Tie had their share of surprises. "Well, when we first started," Moore says, "we wrote new material for each of our shows. We thought that's how it was done. So I was surprised when I realized that most acts not only didn't write their own material, but did the same show and sometimes for years. Another surprise, and I'm sorry to say it wasn't a nice surprise, was how hard it was for us to get work out of town. Others had a much easier time." Robinson hastens to add, "The MAC Awards, when we won. What a nice surprise to be honored by your peers! And when we were asked to play Carnegie Hall, and then to be introduced on stage that night by Bill Cosby. That will always be a wonderful memory." Walser finishes, "I think the nicest surprise was the warmth extended by so many other performers. Peter Gloo, Ricky Ritzel, Spider Saloff, Scott Traudt, Scott Newell, Natalie Douglas, and the list just goes on and on. People who were fun to be with, and made sure you knew that you were part of something very special."
By the mid-1990s, Black Tie was firmly fading into the pages of the cabaret history books for a number of reasons, from the logical and practical to the not-altogether pleasant, although the three are as close if not closer than ever and still consider one another family while living miles apart from one another. "Life changed," says Walser. "Things changed, priorities changed, and we'd changed. And if I had my way, we might still be performing in spite of the changes, because I'm just stubborn that way. Well," he adds, "that, plus I really, really miss being on stage with Nellson and Natalie. I think it's just that we'd worked so hard for so long and we just didn't move to a level of success that would have sustained our lives and what are now our families. Something had to give. But it was a wonderful ride and each of us are the better for it." Moore elaborates, "It became just too hard to find work that paid. And all our lives just went in different directions after a time. We all found stable relationships, began families, moved to different places, and when I left New York I know that was the beginning of the end." Robinson concludes, "I have to admit that it stopped being fun, and we all all promised each other that when it stopped being fun, we weren't going to continue. But," she says, "I miss performing with my Ardie and my Nellson. They are two exceptional men, and I cherish them both dearly."
Life has put great distances between the threesome in more ways than one, and yet somehow the parallels between them are downright eerie. Moore initially became a restaurant manager and moved to Vermont, and has children with his longtime partner, at whose basketball games he can occasionally be coaxed (and not reluctantly) to sing the National Anthem. More recently, he once again flexed his dramatic muscles in Other People's Money at the Waterbury Festival Playhouse, and he's made an impressive new foray into radio as the host of "Moore Music A-Z" on WMRW-FM (95.1) on Saturday mornings between 9 and 11am. He's also giving history tours of the Trapp Family Lodge in the famed Vermont village of Stowe, and starts the tour by singing the original lyrics to the classic "Edelweiss." Robinson, meanwhile, went back to school to become a recording engineer, which successfully took her everywhere from the Apollo Theater to Carnegie Hall, before eventually opening her own recording studio, called Alkemist Brew. She and her husband of several years, also run a successful commercial printing company near their Maryland home, called Allegra of Annapolis, and when not busy with work, she's the proud mother of their son Osei-Sekou. "And," she says, "don't be surprised if I'm back performing in music one day soon, because if my husband had his way, I never would have stopped!" As for Walser, for the most part he went the academic route; presently the Associate Dean of the Grove School of Engineering at CCNY, he's also a professor of CUNY's Graduate Center and a Vice-President of the Teaneck School Board in New Jersey. Other academic interests include the Math Adventures & Word Play program in the school system there as well as teaching English to foreign laborers seeking employment through the ESL to go program. And he still finds the time to be a proud and attentive husband and father to his wife and two sons. "Ain't that somethin'?" he laughs. But he also stays active by appearing in an occasional stage play, and performing in jazz combos, including a quintet which featured his son Jarrett Walser on drums.When all is said and done, of course an obvious question remains. What are the chances for a Black Tie reunion performance, in cabaret or otherwise? "I hope so, God willing!" laughs Robinson. "I think SOME of our fans are still alive!" Moore takes a more somber approach to the question at first. "I don't see us back on the cabaret circuit as a group," he says. "Our lives are so apart now. But," he says with a hint of excitement, "whenever the three of us are in a room with a piano, there is an instant Black Tie reunion and it is always a BLAST! And I'd love for Natalie and Ardie to move to Vermont. We could rip up the resort circuit here with our sound!" It is Walser, however, who offers the final observation, "Anything is possible."
Until that time, those of us who were fortunate to drink in not merely the glorious sounds but the brilliant synergy of Black Tie will cling to our memories with indescribable fondness.
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