Monday, Aug. 09, 1976

Rather than watch Agnes de Mille's ballet, Fall River Legend, New York Times Dance Critic Clive Barnes once wrote, "I would prefer to play pinochle, which is all the more surprising since I have never played pinochle in my life." In the line of duty, however, Barnes attended another performance of the ballet (about the ax-wielding Lizzie Borden) and wrote a glowing review of Marcia Haydee, who was guest dancer with the American Ballet Theater. Unpleased was Ballerina Sallie Wilson, the ABT regular who has danced the lead role impeccably for many seasons without getting what she considers to be a fair shake from Barnes. "I've had a whole career that he's ignored," she fumed. "Then he meets me at parties and gives me a big slushy kiss and tells me I'm his favorite girl." No more Ms. Nice Guy, decided Wilson, and the next time she saw Barnes, which happened to be the night after his review appeared, she threw her drink (Scotch) in his face. Barnes' review of her performance: "I guess somebody doesn't like me."

Singing groups come and go like May flies these days, but last week a 20-member ensemble called the Million Dollar Chorus came and went in what must be record time: one hour. The chorus consisted of such New York City boosters as Polly Bergen, Robert Merrill, Ruby Dee, Celeste Holm and Guy Lombardo. They all assembled at a recording studio to perform one number, a snappily chauvinistic tune called Mad About You Manhattan. Sample lyric: "A double-decker bus is fun in Piccadilly Square/ But I prefer a subway car to take me everywhere." The idea is that the record will make money for the Citizens Committee for New York City, which is concerned with improving services in the debt-ridden city.

It may have come as a shock to some passersby to see Actress Sandy Dennis standing outside the Brooks Atkinson Theater in New York with a small cat in her arms, offering to sell it to the highest bidder. But Dennis, 39, has a thing about cats, and lives with 33 of them (guests who drop in for a visit have been known to find fur in their drinks). So when the Humane Society of New York City decided to auction off some homeless kittens, guess who was asked to be auctioneer? Dennis did fairly well, too: she sold seven cats for $70 and, it goes without saying, picked out one to take home. "His name is Kelly," says Dennis, "and I have three others like him--but not just like him."

The IBM chess tournament in Amsterdam was over, and Russian Grandmaster Victor Korchnoi, 45, ranked second only to World Champion Anatoli Karpov, had finished in a tie for first place. But Korchnoi had a private end game to complete: he defected and sought asylum. Tass, the Soviet news agency, quickly counterattacked, accusing Korchnoi of being "obsessed with vanity." In fact, Korchnoi has been in dutch with Soviet chess officials more or less constantly since 1974, when he lost in a semifinal world championship match to Karpov and then complained publicly that his fellow grandmaster had a "poor chess arsenal." But Korchnoi's gambit seems to have caught everyone off guard, particularly his wife and 17-year-old son in Leningrad. They knew nothing of the defection until they heard it announced on a Voice of America radio broadcast.

The granny glasses gave it away, but otherwise there was hardly a hint that the man with the short haircut, dark suit, narrow tie and starched white shirt was not a bank clerk but John Lennon, 35, former Beatle, sometime writer, and culture hero without portfolio. He was wearing the straight threads for a solemn occasion, namely, the successful resolution of his 4 1/2-year struggle to obtain permanent-resident status in the U.S. After such assorted character witnesses as Gloria Swanson, Geraldo Rivera and Isamu Noguchi testified to Lennon's public spirit and artistic significance, Immigration Judge Ira Fieldsteel awarded Lennon the long-sought green card bearing permanent resident No. A17-597-321. "It's great to be legal again," said John, whose problems with the Immigration and Naturalization Service dated back to a 1968 conviction in England for possessing half an ounce of hashish. Like a true patriot, Lennon immediately promised to dedicate himself to "wife, kids and a job" and then gave a big kiss to his Mrs., Yoko Ono. "As usual," John noted, "there's a great woman behind every idiot."

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