The Fred Barton Blog

T-H-E Peggy Hewitt

In 1991, I played an actress friend’s audition for the role of Mme. Armfeldt in an LA revival of “A Little Night Music.” The waiting room was full of divas of a certain age, all dressed to the nines in period clothes, as is the hilariously excessive LA habit. These actresses were all reeling off their credits to each other and name-dropping and out-granding each other full-tilt. I noticed a professionally-dressed actress sitting quietly in the corner, seemingly a little overwhelmed by the hubbub.

The audition monitor emerged and took attendance, as each lady grandly adjusted feathers and furs and called out “Yes!” and “Here!” Then the monitor called the last name: “Peggy Hewett.” And the quiet lady in the corner replied, “Yes.”

After a pause, I said, in very large and dramatic tones: “T-H-E Peggy Hewitt???”  All the ladies stopped dead and turned to examine this previously unassuming actress in the corner. I continued, in full fan-gush: “You were SO GREAT in ‘Day In Hollywood!” And congrats on that super-well-deserved Drama Desk nomination!”

The suddenly-silenced ladies all lost an inch of height en masse as Peggy Hewett smiled, drew herself up a bit, and she and I sat in our new Cool Kids' Corner and just dived into Broadway shop talk and mutual enthusiasm.

We were both a little down-and-out, our New York triumphs behind us and forgotten all too quickly, as we tried to hack the LA scene.

She began to come over regularly for some coaching in my cute little Beachwood Drive house, with the aim of putting together a new one-woman show. She had a flair for the bon mots of Noel Coward and bittersweet light-operetta and fey Bea Lillie songs. We had a grand old time. Her rendition of “World Weary” was for the ages.

She noticed something off with me, and I confided in her about the nervous breakdown and the multiple misdiagnoses. She immediately proposed I see her psychologist friend Beverly Piontak. I did, and Beverly was magnificent, in her office next door to the Beverly Hills Playhouse (where my brother studied, and I audited constantly.) Beverly’s ministrations and Peggy’s friendship saw me through my drama and the “City Of Angels” experience.

Beverly’s and Peggy’s powerful words of wisdom are with me to this day. I moved back to New York after "City Of Angels" played LA and toured, and never saw Peggy again. I did hear that she moved back to the New York area not too long later as well with her life partner. I was stunned when Peggy died a few years later at the age of 56. She saved my life and I wish I could have saved hers. “T-H-E Peggy Hewitt.”