Charlie Cinnamon: Legendary Press Agent
Jewish Museum of Florida, Miami Beach
June 19 to Sept. 16, 2018
IN THIS RETROSPECTIVE exhibition of the extraordinary career of Charlie Cinnamon, “preeminent theatrical press agent” to the stars, we are regaled by a collaborative tribute to his legacy in a collection of memorabilia garnered by his friends, Broadway director Richard Jay-Alexander and photographer Manny Hernandez, along with members of the Cinnamon family. Without a doubt, the “legendary” press agent Charlie Cinnamon, PR executive extraordinaire, “grand sage of publicity,” “best cultural ambassador,” would have been embarrassed by the hagiographic gushing of his friends and colleagues. Except that it’s all true.
Two years after his passing, his friends miss him so much that they have organized a retrospective of his life at the Jewish Museum of Florida–FIU in South Beach. The goal is to document with images, artifacts, and relics a life well lived. The portrait that emerges is that of a public relations professional who sought the limelight only for his clients, and a veritable mensch who gave of himself with compassion to everyone he worked with. Relics include the typewriter he used for decades to write up his press releases, a pair of diamond cufflinks that were a gift from Elizabeth Taylor, refashioned from a pair of her earrings, and, more poignantly, his elegant but empty tuxedo.
The word “miracle” sometimes comes up to describe Cinammon’s achievements. I would identify three such miracles:
The first was to put the swampy backwater that was mid-century South Florida on the cultural map. Cinammon’s first PR coup of note was his epistolary crusade in 1956 to defend the choice of Miami as the proper venue for the American premiere of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. Cinnamon made the point that even if regular theater-going plebeians might not have understood the importance of the play in France (many of them having left the theater during the intermission), journalists, critics, and other professionals worthy of their name had the duty to explain to the public the significance of Beckett’s work, considered the chef-d’œuvre of the theater of the absurd. The pressure was on for the critics in their privileged spheres of influence to recognize, then transmit, the consequence of the avant-garde.
Cinnamon was hired at the old Coconut Grove Playhouse, where he worked wonders of buzz and hype. In 1963, to publicize Irma la Douce, he festooned the Coconut Grove neighborhood to look like a scene from Montparnasse, Paris, with artists exhibiting their wares to passersby. Thus was the Coconut Grove Arts Festival born. Luminaries represented by Cinnamon included Elizabeth Taylor, Tallulah Bankhead, Chita Rivera, Ethel Merman, Eartha Kitt, Julio Iglesias, and Princess Caroline of Monaco. He would organize their opening-night cast parties or accompany them on world tours: they were also his friends. The plethora of images of Cinnamon thick as thieves with Hollywood royalty, Broadway doyens, world-class musicians, and other elites attests to his charm and affability, and to his allure of glam and panache.
The second miracle was maintaining a stellar reputation throughout a long career; he died just two days short of his 95th birthday. Honest, trustworthy, humble (he always referred to himself as just a press agent), “his word was his bond.” He won many awards, but when the Miami Gay & Lesbian Chamber of Commerce wanted to honor him with a Civic Achievement Award in 2016, he politely declined. Perhaps it was due to the modesty of a gentleman of a certain age who preferred to remain discreet about his personal life. Or perhaps he just wanted to be known as a great PR agent unpegged by sexual labels. Cinnamon was living every gay man’s dream, but that important part of him lies in the shadows. Nevertheless, he was comfortable in his skin, hosting parties for the gay cognoscenti who would correctly interpret his coded invitations: “Come hear the new album by Ella.” While peering into the hundreds of faces that appear in these photos, I found myself challenged to find the face of one friend who appears more often than any other. Sadly, there is little to suggest that he found much happiness in his private life, or even had a private life, so devoted was he to the public one.
The third miracle was that of bringing people together in friendship, in professional associations, and in artistic endeavors. Cinnamon was a kind and generous soul, named Man of the Year in 1984 by the City of Miami Beach Fine Arts Board, lending his name the following year to the annual Charles Cinnamon Award, created by the PROPS Women of Show Business and given out by the National Foundation for Advancement in the Arts. In 2006, he received the Playhouse Lifetime Community Achievement Award. His other accolades are too numerous to mention, many of them for community service. In 1988, he persuaded Elizabeth Taylor to return to Miami for the first fundraiser of the Community Alliance Against AIDS, raising $2.5 million in a single night. He promoted the Concert Association of Greater Miami. He had a hand in the founding of Miami City Ballet.
Charlie Cinnamon knew instinctively that life was theater, and he made theater his life. His passion was genuine and contagious. Even now, he brings his community together, as friends and family invite us all to bear witness to a life well lived.
Roy Luna, a retired professor of French literature living in Miami, is the author of a trilogy of historical novels.
