John Simon, Oscar Hammerstein Award, June 7, 2004

When I first saw Carol Channing, I knew that I was in the presence of a phenomenon. Indeed I did not so much see her as amazedly behold her, for which, to this day, I am beholden to her. The occasion was a 1948 revue, Lend an Ear, and when she came on, I was ready to lend her both ears, both eyes, and whatever other parts she might have claimed.

She was commandingly after taller than anyone else around her, had the most original voice, moved with prodigious abandon, and looked more than merely pretty: handsome.

That epithet, which the dictionary defines as not only comely but also imposing, fitted her perfectly; even in a playful number she managed to be larger than life. I found out that she came from our great Northwest, which was to me at the time a fabled region, and had gone to Bennington, a fabled college. Most important, though, was that everything about her demanded the word "unique."

Thereafter I have had the pleasure to see her perform ever more authoritatively, and found her offstage in conversation no less delightful. She has since confirmed this with a delicious memoir to which, as she is clearly indestructible, I trust she will in due time add a no less entertaining sequel.

True, she is best known for only two roles. In someone else, this might be a limitation; in her hands, it is a panorama. Both Lorelei Lee and Dolly Levi are brilliant manipulators, but where the one ones seduces, the other induces. Lorelei’s allure only herself, Dolly creates a better world all around her–black magic and white magic, the whole range of feminine attraction.

Ultimately, Carol Channing’s appeal goes way beyond the famous voice that has been described as changing abruptly from a babyish squeak to a baritone growl. Here is the ability to be simultaneously as big as Cinemascope or Panavision, and as cuddlesome as a baby doll, and turn herself into one all-encompassing smile that could melt icebergs. A smile big enough to embraces multitudes such as the one foregathered here in honor, and that now joins me in a toast: Carol Channing forever!