Dear Corse

When George Cukor decided to build three cottages on his Beverly Hills estate, his close friend Katharine Hepburn asked him if Spencer Tracy, her life partner and also a friend of Cukor's, might rent one of them. (Tracy was married to Louise Treadwell, but since 1933 the couple lived separately.) Throughout his adult life Tracy had struggled with depression and alcoholism, and with Tracy living on his estate Cukor could keep an eye on him and provide companionship whenever Hepburn was not in Los Angeles. Assured that Cukor would respect his privacy, Tracy moved into the cottage on St. Ives Drive in the fall of 1951 and lived there until his death in 1967. During the final years of his life, while in poor health, Tracy shared the cottage with Hepburn, this being the only time the two lived together. Hepburn rented the house from Cukor after Tracy's death. 

    

Spencer Tracy (left) and George Cukor. According to Cukor biographer Patrick McGilligan, Cukor was "endlessly fascinated by the sensitive and peculiar Tracy" and the two men became "the most unlikely best of friends". 

On 8 February 1951, Cukor wrote this humorous letter to Tracy about the progress being made on the "Tracy residence". The "Touring Actress" referred to in Cukor's letter is of course Katharine Hepburn. At that time Hepburn was still touring with the stage production of Shakespeare's As You Like It; the play had opened in January 1950 in New York City and after 145 performances went on the road until March 1951. Cukor's comment "She will be pleased to know that the sun hits this property regularly once a week..." is probably a comical reference to Hepburn's wish to have large windows installed in Tracy's cottage to allow sunlight to enter the house. Hepburn hated the lack of natural light in the small apartment Tracy was then renting on South Beverly Drive.

Incidentally, Cukor nicknamed Tracy "Corse" —after Corse Payton, a popular American stage actor, known for billing himself as "America's Best Bad Actor".

Source: icollector.com

Left photo (taken in July 2023): 9191 St. Ives Drive in Los Angeles, the cottage in which Tracy had lived and later Hepburn. Right: Tracy inside his home, sitting in a chair that Hepburn had reupholstered.

Cukor, Tracy and Hepburn on the set of Keeper of the Flame (1942), the second of nine films Tracy and Hepburn made together.

Tracy and Cukor on the set of The Actress (1953). Tracy was directed by Cukor five times, more than by any other director. The other four films were Keeper of the Flame (1942), Edward, My Son (1949), Adam's Rib (1949) and Pat and Mike (1952).

Nobody deserves that kind of slaughter

A year after Joan Crawford's death, Christina Crawford —the eldest of Joan's four adopted children— published her memoir Mommie Dearest (1978), in which she accused her mother of emotional and physical abuse towards her and her siblings. The book became a huge success and in 1981 was made into a film of the same name (starring Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford). Several people corroborated Christina's story, stating they had personally witnessed some of the abuse (among them Helen Hayes, read more here), while others said that the allegations were pure lies. Among the latter group were Joan's twin daughters Cathy and Cindy, Joan's ex-husband Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Barbara Stanwyck and Myrna Loy. 

Joan Crawford and daughter Christina

Marlene Dietrich and Katharine Hepburn also belonged to the group of people who didn't believe Christina's stories about her mother. In the letters below, the two actresses give their opinion on the subject. First up is Dietrich's letter to Paramount executive Peter Bankers (i.e. only the part that deals with Mommie Dearest), followed by Hepburn's note to a friend. 

Source:  The Best of Everything: A Joan Crawford Encyclopedia (click on the link if you want to read Dietrich's full letter)

Joan Crawford and Marlene Dietrich in the 1930s

Source: The Best of Everything: A Joan Crawford Encyclopedia

Kate Hepburn

If you are convinced, that is quite enough for me

Enticed by today's letter, I recently watched David Lean's Summertime (1955), a film I liked much more than anticipated. Based on the play The Time of the Cuckoo by Arthur Laurents, Summertime is the story of a lonely, middle-aged American woman who takes a holiday to Venice, where she falls in love with an Italian antiques dealer. The film was entirely shot on location in Venice during the peak tourist season in the summer of 1954, containing beautiful images of the city (shot in glorious Technicolor).

The lovely images of Venice aside, the main draw of the film is its leading lady, the inimitable Katharine Hepburn, who gives one of her finest performances as the insecure and vulnerable Jane Hudson. Following the completion of her MGM contract in 1952, Hepburn had spent two years relaxing and travelling before accepting the role in David Lean's film (being free now to choose her own projects). In the letter below to Lean, written on 11 January 1954, Katharine shows her excitement about the film and especially her excitement about working with Lean, of whom she was "a wild fan". Hepburn's sensitive performance eventually earned her an Oscar nomination but she lost to Anna Magnani for The Rose Tattoo. 

While David Lean directed such well-known classics as Brief Encounter (1945), The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), Lawrence of Arabia (1962) and Doctor Zhivago (1965), of all the films he had made Summertime was his personal favourite. Katharine Hepburn was Lean's favourite actor to work with, and he once said about her: "She’s a joy. She’s a wonderful technician and she has I think a great, great gift. On top of that, I happen to like her very much personally. She’s a great human being." 

Above: A scene from Summertime with Katharine Hepburn as Jane Hudson and Rossano Brazzi as Renato de Rossi, the man she falls in love with. Below: Hepburn is dripping wet after doing the scene where she falls into the canal; here she is pictured with director David Lean. Hepburn performed her own stunt and ended up with a chronic eye infection.

Source: liveauctioneers

Transcript:

 I - 11 - 54

Dear David Lean - 

I finally got your letter a week ago - It all sounds thrilling + I'm certain that it will be wonderful - If you are convinced - that is quite enough for me - I am a wild fan of yours - I think that you are absolutely great - I told your wife [Ann Todd] this once when I went backstage to see her after Seventh Veil - You have never disillusioned me - In fact Sound Barrier was to me the most shattering of all - You are a sensitive intelligent + imaginative creature - + if you are enthusiastic about me - I am thrilled - wasn't mad about the play but certainly see what you intend - + see it all now in a lovely rosy glow - am intoxicated at the prospect - have read since I heard how you felt - I hope it pleases you to hear all these nice things - for it is so lovely to feel them - 

Kate Hepburn

Seriously or with all effort at constructive thought - I believe showing what she comes from is very important - + please know that when I talked to [art director Vincent] Korda + [producer Ilya] Lopert - I had only seen the play - + should have kept my mouth shut - I thought I was to see [playwright] Arthur L[aurents]- before he left - Give him our best + you both have my enthusiastic thoughts.

David Lean and Katharine Hepburn on the set of Summertime. Like Hepburn, Lean had received an Oscar nomination for Summertime but he lost to Delbert Mann for Marty.

I don't know why we can't be friends

Having the power to ruin careers and lives, gossip columnist Hedda Hopper was hated by most actors in Hollywood. Joan Bennett once sent Hopper a live skunk as a valentine after having been "the victim of her nasty remarks" for years, and Spencer Tracy publicly kicked Hopper in the butt due to gossip she had spread about him and Katharine Hepburn. Hepburn herself wasn't a fan of Hopper either, not only because of her damaging gossip but also because of Hopper's political beliefs. A fervent Republican, Hopper was a strong supporter of the House of Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) and the Hollywood blacklist. Hepburn, by contrast, had been a member of the Committee for the First Amendment, an action group established in September 1947 in support of the Hollywood Ten and in protest against the HUAC hearings.

While Hepburn and Hopper seemed to have little in common, 79-year-old Hopper wrote Hepburn a letter in December 1964, wondering why they couldn't be friends. It was about a year before Hopper would pass away and apparently she was reminiscing and missing the good old days of Hollywood. Having always admired Hepburn, Hopper wrote: "... it's a crime that you're not acting. We have no one fit to kiss your feet". (At the time Hepburn had taken a break from acting, while caring for her life companion Spencer Tracy who was in poor health.) Hepburn responded with a kind letter five days later, first referring to the photograph of her and Humphrey Bogart which Hopper had sent along, and next fondly remembering Bogie and his Oscar win for The African Queen (1951). Then Hepburn went on to say, "You and I are friends, Hedda. Time has seen to that...", while at the same time reminding Hopper that she never approved of Hopper's profession or politics. In this light, Hepburn also mentioned John Foster Dulles, a conservative Republican politician who was, like Hopper, a staunch opponent of communism.

In 1967, Hepburn would return to the big screen and eventually win three more Oscars, for Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967), The Lion in Winter (1968), and On Golden Pond (1981). Hopper was not alive to see this, she died in February 1966.

Hepburn (l) and Hopper

Both letters and many more can be found in Letters from Hollywood: Inside the Private World of Classic American Moviemaking (2019) by Rocky Lang and Barbara Hall. 

On location in Africa, Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn enjoy a break during the filming of The African Queen. 

"Coco": I cannot see anyone but you in the part

In 1969, after an absence of seventeen years, Katharine Hepburn returned to Broadway to perform in Coco, her only musical in a long and impressive career. The musical was written by Alan Jay Lerner (book and lyrics) and André Previn (music) and was based on the life of French fashion designer Coco Chanel, focusing on the 1950s when Chanel came out of retirement after fifteen years. Initially Hepburn, who couldn't really sing, wasn't eager to play the role, but after weeks of vocal lessons with MGM vocal coach Roger Edens and after meeting Chanel she decided to accept. (When she heard herself later on the cast album, she famously quipped: "I sound like Donald Duck".)

Coco opened on 18 December 1969 at the Mark Hellinger Theatre where it ran for 329 performances. After eight months Hepburn's contract ended and she was replaced by Danielle Darrieux. With no major star to attract audiences and the show garnering poor reviews, Coco with Darrieux closed after only two months. The original Broadway production was nominated for seven Tony Awards, winning in two categories, i.e. for Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical (René Auberjonois) and Best Costume Design (Cecil Beaton). Hepburn was also nominated but lost to Lauren Bacall in Applause.

Following her Broadway run, Hepburn went on a national tour with Coco from January through June 1971 and, despite mediocre reviews, the show was sold out everywhere. Although Coco was a big success financially, Paramount Pictures, who had put up the money for the original Broadway production (a then record amount of $900,000), decided not to turn it into a film. 

At age 62, Katharine Hepburn in Coco (above and below). When Chanel learned that Miss Hepburn was going to play her she was very pleased, assuming it was Audrey and not Katharine. She thought that the musical was going to focus on her younger years, as initially agreed upon, but Alan Lerner later decided to tell the story of Chanel as an older woman.

The man behind the Coco project was producer Frederick Brisson. Brisson had bought the rights to Chanel's life story in the early 1960's and originally intended the musical as a vehicle for his wife Rosalind Russell. Russell —previously successful on Broadway with the musical Wonderful Town (1953-1954) for which she won a Tony Award, and Auntie Mame (1956-1958) for which she was nominated— was quite eager to return to Broadway and desperately wanted the role. But while Lerner and Previn had started to write their material with Russell in mind, they gradually became convinced she was all wrong for it. They told Brisson how they felt, who naturally told his wife. Trying to hold on to the role that was meant for her, Russell next gave an interview to the press saying she had already been cast as Coco. When the announcement appeared in the New York Times on 27 September 1967, Lerner was outraged — blaming Brisson rather than Russell— and urged Roz to announce her withdrawal from the project, "for a reason to be mutually agreed upon"*. 

*Several sources claim that Roz withdrew from Coco because she had developed acute arthritis. According to her autobiography Life is a Banquet (1977), however, it wasn't until 1969 that she started to develop arthritic symptoms. So the reason for her withdrawal that was communicated to the press in late 1967 must have been a different one, although I couldn't find what it was. 

Rosalind Russell and husband Frederick Brisson who were married from 1941 until Roz's death in 1976 (above) and Katharine Hepburn flanked by Brisson and Alan Jay Lerner (below). Lerner is probably best remembered for his collaboration with composer Frederick Loewe on such musicals as Brigadoon, My Fair Lady and Gigi.

Seen below are two letters written by Alan Jay Lerner regarding the casting of Coco. In the first letter to Frederick Brisson, dated 13 September 1967, Lerner said that while he initially had doubts about Roz Russell playing Chanel, he was now "unalterably opposed" to it (as was Previn) and also explained why. Convinced that Katharine Hepburn would be the perfect Coco, Lerner wrote Hepburn an impassioned letter four days later, trying to persuade her to accept the part ("... never in my entire professional life have I ever wanted anyone to play any role in anything I have ever written as much as I want you to play Coco."). Probably that same month Hepburn agreed to consider the role.

 

September 13, 1967

Dear Freddy, 

Contrary to previous information as you can see I am still in London. I had a marvelous ten days work with André and all the melodies are now completed, including the verses. We may have to add one small interlude but that remains to be seen. In any case, it would only be a short afternoon's work for André.

Not only that, but at long last the book is finished to my satisfaction and you should have a copy in your hands by the time you receive this letter. It is still long in the beginning and I don't mean to imply that I have finished work on it, but for the first time there is a beginning, a middle and an end, and the play at least has an architecture. I hope you will agree.

If you do agree then I think you will also feel as André and I do that —as I have been fearing for many months— this is definitely not for Roz and Roz is definitely not for it. I am totally, irrefutably convinced that each would do the other a great injustice. Her special warmth and ingenuousness that shine through her talent and make it unique would, if called upon as it is now written, give the play a softness which would destroy the whole fabric of it. To ask her to bury it completely would be like hiring Merman and asking her not to sing. What the part requires is a certain emotional brittleness; it is a quality someone either has or has not. It cannot be assumed. That particular kind of cracking along on top of the feelings if it isn't natural emotionally and stylistically comes out at best, hard and at worst, heartless. It is the kind of role that is very much in the vernacular of two or three of the leading British actresses and Katharine Hepburn. As for the musical portion, the gay, uninhibited, irresistible zest that Roz uses instead of a voice would be so out of character that she and the songs would be fighting each other all the way with each winding up the loser, not to mention the play. I know we have discussed this before. I know you have been aware of my doubts. Those doubts no longer exist. I now find myself unalterably opposed.

I wish with all my heart I could explain this to Roz myself because aside from my own personal feelings for her, I have very deep respect for her as an artist, and I would be bereft if she in any way misunderstood. I frankly believe she is too intelligent an actress, as well as person, not to see this herself upon reading the play. I am more than certain she would turn it down anyhow. If, by any chance, she sees the role differently than it is, I will do anything to make my position clear to her. (I have been saying "I" when I should have been saying "we" because André is equally as definite as I about her not playing the role. Actually, after reading this draft he called me up and the first thing he said was: "I love it, but this is certainly nothing for Roz.")

It is such a relief to get the thing off my back that I am going to stay over until next week and relax a bit. I will stay here until Friday and then go to Paris until about Wednesday, then home. I will be at the Plaza. I have not been in touch with anybody here because I think we must first cast the part. Obviously, the star will have a say and I don't want to go off half-cocked again. I will call you the instant I am in New York and if you would like me to go see Roz, wherever she is, I will of course do so.

I hope you are happy with the script. I look forward to seeing you as soon as possible. Be sure not to give any love to Jack Warner and Arthur Jacobs but keep it all for the Brisson family.

Always, 

Alan

__________

September 17, 1967

Dear Miss Hepburn: 

I have been trying to leave you alone until I get back this week but today is Sunday and I have no "hommes d'affaires" to see and I never visit the French in the country because the men wear neckties and everybody stays indoors and so I've been working on the lyric for "Always Mademoiselle." (André did the music while I was in London. I think you'll like it. It's in the "My Man" genre but the melody is stronger and no self-pity. There will be none of the latter in the lyric either.) And so because I have been working on something that I fervently hope will be for you, writing you has become irresistible. 

First of all, I must tell you that our paths have been crossing all week. Monday, I saw Anatole Litvak in Claridge's and we had a bite together. He told me that he had been working on a script for Peter O'Toole called "The Ski-Bum" and that it was not developing well and that it would probably be abandoned. The next day I heard that "Lion in Winter" may be moved forward because Peter O'Toole had suddenly become free. Friday evening I arrived in Paris and as I walked into the hotel, the very first person I saw was Terrence [sic] Young. Short chat and, unsolicited, he informed me he suddenly had two pictures at the same time: "Mayerling" and "Lion in Winter" because "Lion" was going sooner than expected. Period. The night before I left London, I ran into Sam Spiegel who fixed his misty blue eyes on me and said "Did you get her?" "Get whom?" said I. He answered with an all-knowing wink, murmured something in classic Estonian in which your name was prominently placed, and disappeared into the night.

Needless to say, any sort of unexpected prompting was hardly necessary to bring you to mind. For the past few weeks my thoughts have not been elsewhere. And since last Monday night I have been elated into orbit. I couldn't possible have made you know on the phone the length, breadth and height of my enthusiasm. Probably, not even face to face either. Unfortunately, enthusiasm in our profession has been so squandered by pitchmen and barkers that by now it rings with the hollow sound of insincerity. However, to me it's still precious stuff and I have never used it either to hoodwink others or myself. So I feel I am entitled to ask you to take mine seriously; and to believe me when I tell you that never in my entire professional life have I ever wanted anyone to play any role in anything I have ever written as much as I want you to play Coco. If you allow me, I will prove it to you by doing anything and everything within the bounds of artistic, legal, economic and social reason to make it possible for you to do it conveniently, happily and comfortably.

Because I cannot see anyone but you in the part, I feel I ought to acquaint you with a few of the facts concerning the origin and history of the play to date. The idea was brought to me seven years ago by Freddie Brisson, who is, as you know, producing it. (Actually, we are co-producers but I don't wish to be so-billed.) André and I began working on it roughly a year ago May. It began as a possible venture for Roz. Sometime around late March or early April it became patently clear to André and me that it was not developing into a Roz Russell vehicle. I had a meeting with Freddie and told him. He was most understanding, but suggested withholding the final decision till the play was finished. By June André's and my feeling had hardened into a firm conviction that it never would be or could be a part for Roz and at a meeting with Freddie suggested we begin looking elsewhere. I returned to Long Island to continue work and André and I made a date to meet in London in September, where he would be conducting, to complete the score.

I did not tell Freddie or anyone outside of your intimate circle that I was sending you the script nor shall I until after I have seen you on the coast. I'm sorry that has been delayed a few days. (I have a house here I'm trying to sell that is all entangled in French black tape — red is out this season.) I will be back in New York on Friday and I will call you the instant I set foot in the New World. If you can see me, I'll come right to the coast or anywhere you are.

Please give my love to Gar[son Kanin], Ruth [Gordon] and George [Cukor] and I hope and pray I will soon know you well enough to send you the same and not have to remain

Only sincerely yours,

Alan 

(from left to right) Kate Hepburn in Coco, the real Coco, and Roz Russell in the 1956 Broadway production of Auntie Mame.

Coco wouldn't go into rehearsal until October 1969. After Hepburn had been cast —the announcement to the press was made in mid-December 1967— the next two years she would often clash with Lerner about the show. Eventually, however, the two became good friends and as a personal favour to Lerner Hepburn, quite reluctantly, allowed a segment of Coco to be recorded for broadcast on television at the 1970 Tony Awards. This 15-minute segment is the only known surviving footage of the original Coco production and shows the exhilarating finale where Hepburn performs the song Always Mademoiselle (an emotional and very memorable performance, even though Hepburn speaks rather than sings the lyrics). Here it is:

Concluding this post, I will leave you with a sweet note from Alan Jay Lerner to Katharine Hepburn, written after recording the above segment for television (broadcast on Sunday 19 April 1970). 

Dearest Kate:

You were absolutely marvelous today.

I thought so, the director thought so, the producer, everyone.

I know you hated doing it, but Sunday night will present the first good reason they invented the goddamn medium at all.

Thank you for doing it. I've had intestinal spasms ever since I asked you. 

But you were simply wonderful.

Always, 

Alan

 

Source of all correspondence: Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (2014), edited by Dominic McHugh.

Much affection and constant admiration

Katharine Hepburn and Joan Crawford never worked together nor saw each other socially. Hepburn once said in a 1979 letter to Joan's daughter Cathy that she really didn't know Joan at all: "I suppose we met once or twice but that is all and those only brief how-do-you-do's ... She wrote me very sweet notes at Christmas. And I was aware that she thought well of me or rather of my work. And I always enjoyed her work." 

The correspondence between the two actresses wasn't just Christmas-related, though, as can be seen here and below. In June 1975 Kate wrote a letter to Joan, apparently after Joan had told George Cukor that she had never received any answers from Kate to her notes. Cukor was a very close friend of both women and passed on Joan's message to Kate.

Apart from Kate's letter, also seen below is a letter from Joan to Kate written around the same time. In it, Joan praised Love Among the Ruins (1975), a television film directed by Cukor, starring Hepburn and Laurence Olivier. The film was a big hit and received several Emmy awards at the ceremony in May 1975, including Emmys for the two leads and Cukor. Joan applauded their great team work and also expressed her joy for their Emmy wins.

Transcript:

Dear Joan -

I have answered every sweet note you have written me 

enjoyed them all -

+ cannot understand why you have never received the answers - very rude you must have thought + stupid too not to enjoy the praise of one's contemporaries - I know all this because George sent me your letter to him-

I talked to him Sunday- He's fine- + likes the stuff - of course it's a pain in the neck- But - he survives in good spirits-

My thanks to you- wasn't it nice that the Love among the Ruins turned out. Such a relief.

Affections 

Kate

Below is a draft of the letter Joan eventually sent to Kate. According to the source of both letters —the wonderful The Best of Everything: A Joan Crawford Encyclopedia— it's unclear whether this was sent before or after Hepburn's letter.

Transcript:

My very dear Kate

How wonderful to receive your lovely warm letter-

I was so overjoyed with the three of you winning because if ever I saw team work- "Love Among the Ruins" was team work to perfection. 

It was difficult to believe that you and Larry had never worked together before; and of course our beloved George knows how to get the best out of all of us.

Thank you again for your letter and I am eagerly awaiting your film with the "Duke" [Rooster Cogburn (1975)]

Much affection and constant admiration

Tying at the Oscars

Oscar ties rarely happen. Of the 92 times the Oscars have been awarded, there were only six ties. Four times the ties occurred in minor categories: 

1950 (22nd Oscars) – Best Documentary Short Subject: A Chance To Live (Richard De Rochemont and James L. Shute) and So Much For So Little (Chuck Jones and Edward Selzer) 

1987 (59th Oscars) – Best Documentary Feature: Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got (Brigitte Berman) and Down And Out In America (Joseph Feury and Milton Justice)

1995 (67th Oscars) – Best Live Action Short Film: Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life (Peter Capaldi and Ruth Kenley-Letts) and Trevor (Peggy Rajski and Randy Stone)

2013 (85th Oscars) – Best Sound Editing: Skyfall (Per Hallberg and Karen Baker Landers) and Zero Dark Thirty (Paul N.J. Ottosson) 

Twice in Oscar history the tie happened in a major acting category. The first time was in November 1932 at the 5th Academy Awards, when both Fredric March and Wallace Beery took home the prize for Best Actor. March won for his role in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Beery for The Champ. Technically, March alone should have won since he got one more vote than Beery. At the time, however, the Academy rules stipulated that if a fellow nominee came within three votes of the winner, both would get the Oscar. By 1950, the rules had been changed, and only if candidates received the exact same number of votes it would qualify as a tie.

Wallace Beery (far left) and Fredric March with their Oscars, pictured here with Lionel Barrymore and Master of Ceremonies Conrad Nagel.

Another tie occurred on 14 April 1969 at the 41st Academy Awards, which is now the best-known tie in Oscar history. In the Best Actress category there were two actresses who had received exactly 3,030 votes each, i.e. Katharine Hepburn for her role as Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine in The Lion in Winter and Barbra Streisand for her debut film performance as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl. Presenter Ingrid Bergman was shocked and surprised after she opened the envelope, exclaiming: "The winner... it's a tie!" It was Hepburn's 11th Oscar nomination and her third win. (She had previously won for Morning Glory (1933) and for Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967) and would even win a fourth Oscar for On Golden Pond (1981).) Hepburn never came to the ceremony to receive her Oscar  —"As for me, prizes are nothing. My prize is my work", she once said—  and on this occasion it was the film's director Anthony Harvey who received the Oscar on her behalf. Of course newcomer Barbra Streisand did show up and was very happy with her prize, as can be seen in this clip.

Veteran Katharine Hepburn and newcomer Barbra Streisand in their Oscar-winning roles (above) and Streisand receiving her prize while Anthony Harvey accepts Hepburn's (below).

Following the Oscar tie, Hepburn sent Streisand a congratulatory telegram. Unfortunately I don't have this wire to show you, but below you'll find Streisand's reply to Hepburn. Streisand concludes her note jokingly with the remark "Do you have start singing as well!!!", referring to Hepburn's first and only Broadway musical Coco which would premiere later that year. Hepburn had no illusions when it came to her singing and reportedly later said: "I sound like Donald Duck". (Watch Hepburn as Coco Chanel here; she starts singing 8:15 minutes into the clip.)

Source: oscars.org

Transcript:

Dear Kate — (I feel I should still call you Miss Hepburn)
How very nice of you to send me such a lovely wire —
I, too, am most honored to share this with you —
but, there's one question I have to ask —
It's tough enough being in the same business with you—
but, do you have to start singing as well !!!!
with much admiration
Barbra

I don't honestly like the feeling of the film

Today's letter enticed me to watch Love Among the Ruins (1975), a film made especially for television, directed by George Cukor and starring Katharine Hepburn and Laurence Olivier in their only film together. It's a charming film about an ageing actress who, after having been sued for breach of promise, hires a lawyer with whom she was romantically involved some 40 years ago; although she doesn't remember him, he has been in love with her ever since.

What makes the film so delightful are the great performances by the leads, in particular by Laurence Olivier whom I loved in this role. Both Hepburn and Cukor wanted Olivier as the male lead from the start but Olivier wasn't interested in the project at all, as his letter to Cukor dated 27 November 1973 indicates (seen below). According to an interesting Emanuel Levy article, Hepburn and Cukor tried to persuade Olivier to accept the role by writing him a long letter back, asking several questions: "Do you find the relationship–thus cast–not interesting? Do you find it not funny? Do you find it too trivial? Would there be any particular thing which could make you do it, and if so, what? Say it's just hopeless, and we will both blow our brains out." Adding more pressure Cukor then jokingly mentioned their greatest individual failures: "What a combo! The star of Romeo and Juliet; the girl who was so successful in The Lake; and the director–fresh from his success–of Gone With the Wind. Irresistible!". To this Olivier had no defense and finally accepted.

Love Among the Ruins was a huge success, receiving seven Emmy Awards including awards for Cukor, Hepburn and Olivier.

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

27th November 1973

My dearest Georgie,

I am a hell of a coward not to have got on to you before you left. Let me grovel before you about this, and now I have to grovel again about the opinion - which can be as wrong as all get out but it does insist and therefore has to be sincere - I don't honestly like the feeling of the film of LOVE AMONG THE RUINS, and what makes me feel so badly about not liking it is my opinion is an absolute polarization from yours and from Kate's, whose opinions I respect more than almost anybody else's I can think of.

I am dreadfully sorry but try as I may I just can't change my opinion or make my love and deep admiration for you both alter it to come into line with yours. I can't imagine why this is and there must be something wrong with me. I hope it isn't serious and I hope that it won't make both or either of you feel differently about thinking of me for such a heavensent partnership at some other time.

It was marvellous to see you last week and I can't tell you how Joanie [Plowright] and I ate up your most generous and delicious words of praise for what you saw.

Your appalledly contrite but ever devoted and worshipful,

Larry. (signed) 

Mr. George Cukor

Laurence Olivier, Katharine Hepburn and director George Cukor having a laugh on the set of Love Among the Ruins. For Olivier it was his first and only collaboration with Hepburn and Cukor.

Consoling Audrey Hepburn

When Audrey Hepburn failed to receive an Oscar nomination for her leading role in George Cukor's My Fair Lady (1964), she was quite devastated. The fact that she had not done her own singing is regarded as one of the main reasons for the Oscar snub. While Audrey had been allowed to do her own singing on Funny Face (1957) and Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961), her vocal range was too limited for the more demanding songs of My Fair Lady. Despite her hard work on the songs with a vocal coach, halfway through production Audrey was told by Cukor that her singing wasn't good enough. (Unlike Audrey, Julie Andrews who had successfully played the role of Eliza Doolittle on the stage was an experienced soprano; she was, however, passed over for the film adaptation because she had no film experience whereas Audrey was already a star.)

Above and below: Audrey Hepburn and director George Cukor on the set of My Fair Lady.

Marni Nixon had previously dubbed Deborah Kerr in The King and I (1956) and Natalie Wood in West Side Story (1961) and was hired to also dub Audrey's singing voice. When word got out about Nixon's singing and just how little Audrey herself had sung --Audrey can be heard half-talking half-singing in a couple of songs-- it led to negative reactions in the gossip columns. Influential columnist Hedda Hopper, for example, wrote: "With Marni Nixon doing the singing, Audrey gives only half a performance". The bad publicity very likely prevented Audrey from getting her Oscar nomination. 

In an attempt to cheer up Audrey for not being nominated, director and good friend George Cukor wrote her a brief letter on 26 February 1965. In it, Cukor gives Audrey an encouraging message from a fellow actress and a dear friend of his, i.e. "the other actress of the Clan Hepburn" who had been through "this kind of thing" herself.  Katharine Hepburn's words to Audrey are quite sweet and must have given Audrey's self-confidence at least a little boost. (Incidentally, Cukor and Katharine had been close friends ever since they started working together in the 1930s; Cukor and Audrey became close during the filming of My Fair Lady and remained friends until Cukor's death in 1983.)

Source: Bonhams

Transcript:

Enclosed you will find a letter written by the other actress of the Clan Hepburn. She asked me to read it. I was to decide whether to send it to you or not. Here it is.

It's bound to tickle you. (Lest her handwriting drive you up the wall, Irene has deciphered it.) Here is the Voice of Experience. She's been through this kind of thing. It touched me because it's shot through with such warmth of feeling for you, and such high regard.

Dearest, dearest Audrey, you're lovely, talented, intelligent, distinguished, capable only of beautiful behaviour. You're possessed of all the graces and virtues including the rarest of all- simple kindness and plain goodness.

I hope all this praise doesn't make you become insufferable.

My loving regards, to you, Mel and Sean.

(signed) George

Mrs. Mel Ferrer
La Retama
La Morelaja
(Alcobendas)
Madrid

Friends for life: Katharine Hepburn and George Cukor on the set of The Philadelphia Story (1940).

My Fair Lady was thé winner at the 37th Academy Awards (held on 5 April 1965) with 8 Oscars, including awards for Jack Warner (Best Picture), George Cukor (Best Director) and Rex Harrison (Best Actor); the three men are pictured above with Audrey Hepburn. At the Oscar Ceremony, Audrey was gracious enough to present the Best Actor award to Rex Harrison, even though it must have been difficult for her. If you click here, you can watch Audrey present the Oscar and see how clearly emotional she was.

Audrey Hepburn with Julie Andrews at the Academy Awards. Julie won the Best Actress award for Mary Poppins which was her first feature film after having been passed over by Jack Warner for My Fair Lady.  There was no personal animosity between Audrey and Julie; on the contrary, the two actresses became good friends.

You'd be most welcome

Katharine Hepburn and Bob Dylan were once neighbours. They both lived in New York in Manhattan's Turtle Bay neighbourhood --Hepburn at 244 East 49th Street and Dylan at 242. Hepburn had lived at the address since 1931 when she rented the townhouse with her husband Ludlow Ogden Smith. Following her divorce from "Luddy", Hepburn bought the four-story house and still owned it when she died in 2003. (She lived there until the 1990s and then retired permanently to her other home in Connecticut.) The rented house which Dylan lived in was once owned by screenwriters Garson Kanin and Ruth Gordon. Kanin and Gordon were good friends of Hepburn's, and in 1951 when the house came up for sale, they bought it and were Hepburn's neighbours for some 40 years.

Back to neighbour Dylan. While living next door to Hepburn, at one time he invited her to join the graduation party of his daughter. By way of invitation, Dylan wrote Hepburn a brief note (as seen below) saying she'd be quite welcome to join the party. Apparently, Hepburn never showed [source]. 

Katharine Hepburn was a beloved resident of the Turtle Bay neighbourhood. She could often be seen cycling through the neighbourhood, shopping in its small stores or shovelling snow from her front entrance. After her death in 2003, the intersection of East 49th Street and 2nd Avenue was renamed "Katharine Hepburn Place".

Via: big apple dayze

Transcript:

Dear Katharine Hepburn

My daughter is having a graduating party in the rented house next door to you, (the one with the dog)

It will be from 7:30 to 10- if you could stop by, you'd be most welcome

Bob Dylan