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Original artical, Sunday, October 11, 2009 - Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Pat DiCesare
In the early summer of 1957, Joe released the Del Vikings next record, "Whispering Bells" which went on to be their next chart topper. In the meantime, he started looking for more new material for his hit group, and more groups to sign on his label. Jay Michaels was kind enough to send me to meet with Joe at his Fifth Avenue office. I played our tape for Joe and as he listened he said to me, "You know, I like your music, but I don't like your singing group. Would you let me have your songs for the Del Vikings to record?" I was pleasantly surprised. Someone of importance in this business said, "I like your songs." That sounded great. However, I really didn't want to do that because I wanted my group to record the songs.
Concert promoter Pat DiCesare recalls the intrigue behind the infamous concert
45 years ago
Original artical, Sunday, October 11, 2009 - Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Pat DiCesare
"Save yourself the aggravation and disappointment," she told him. "Forget about The Beatles. You'll never get them."
Then it happened. Tim got a call from an excited Roz, who said, "Tim, do you have $5,000?"
"No, why?" he said.
"If you could take $5,000 cash to the Club Elegant in Brooklyn and leave it with the bartender, there is a good chance that you could get The Beatles."
Neither Tim nor I had $5,000. You have to remember that at the time a schoolteacher's salary might have been $3,500 a year. I was a young guy in my 20s, and Tim was living from show to show. He approached various investors in Pittsburgh that we had done business with in the past. But when Tim told them he had to leave the cash "with a bartender in Brooklyn," and that there was no guarantee that he could get the date or that the bartender was for real, no one would invest the $5,000.
When I asked Tim about The Beatles, he told me everyone had turned him down and that Roz said he had to have the money by the next day or he would lose the date.
"Tim, hold her off," I said, "Let me see what I can do."
By Pat DiCesare
It was intermission and I was at the box office when the phone rang. John Woods, the box office manager, answered the phone. "That was Mick Jagger," he said. "He wants to see you in his dressing room."
That was never a good sign. Anytime an artist wants to see you in the dressing room, expect a problem.
When I reached the dressing room, Mick asked, "Who are all those people behind the stage?"
"They are the disc jockeys from WDVE. They are doing the emceeing for the show."
"Well I don't want anyone back stage, and I don't want anybody emceeing the show. Get rid of them now!"
"But Mick," I told him, "You don't understand. They are with the show. Their station did a great job promoting you and presenting the show. It is in your contract that they can announce you."
"Either you get rid of them or I won't go on," he said.
Bob Harper was not too happy with this news. "We have a deal. You can't do this to me. You go back and tell him that," he said.
I told him that Mick was adamant.
"Well, you tell him that if we don't announce him, WDVE will never play another Rolling Stones record again. I will break every Stones record on the air and tell the audience what he is like. Go on tell him," he yelled.
I could barely hear him over the loud roar of the crowd, "We want the Stones! We want the Stones."
Mick Jagger wouldn't back down. "Do you hear that crowd screaming for us? You tell him that I don't need him or his radio station and that he will have to play my records anyway."
It was one of the most difficult things that I had to do. Unfortunately for me, it affected my relationship with Bob.
Appeared in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Sunday, October 03, 2010
By Pat DiCesare
"Please, Charlie don't," I pleaded.
Her road manager now came over to me.
"Pat, are you crazy? Get these guys off the stage right now or I'm going to pull the show," he shouted.
It was difficult for me to plead my case because no one could hear. We just shouted into each others' ears. Just then the house lights went on. All I could think about was my $25,000 profit going right down the drain.
Janis stopped singing and said, "What the [expletive] is going on?"
The crowd screamed even louder.
Charlie said to me, "Go up and tell her to tell everyone to take their seats. If not, the show won't continue."
This reminded me of being in grade school. I knew I couldn't say that to her and that she wouldn't say that to her audience. But on the other hand if I didn't do something, Charlie was liable to make good on his promise and cancel the show...click here for the full memory of Janis Joplin
By Pat DiCesare
One of the most stressful dates was the Doors. Jim Morrison had a reputation, especially after his "disrobing" in Miami, of performing drunk, swearing, taunting the police and inciting a riot. The first time I booked him in 1968, the mayor's office forced me to cancel a sold-out show. I had to eat the advertising costs.
As the months passed, the city did finally let me present the show. I had to hire more police than any other show besides the Beatles. The police warned: "If he does anything immoral during the show, we are arresting him and you."
Fortunately for my sake, he behaved well enough for not only one but two Civic Arena shows. However, if you listen to the live album from the May 2, 1970, show you can hear him taunting the police a bit.
By Pat DiCesare
The English acts were always difficult to deal with. In 1970, I played Led Zeppelin at the arena, which sold out as expected. The group wanted two cases of Dom Perignon champagne for the dressing room.
I had several runners whose jobs were to fetch what the acts demanded, the "rider requirements." The dressing room was the hockey team's locker room. All the walls and floors were concrete. We tried to buy the two cases of Dom but to no avail. Horne's Department store, the premier liquor store at the time, said that "In all of the city of Pittsburgh, you will not find two cases of Dom. You must order that item well in advance."
I dispatched my runner to all the state stores in the Tri-State area to fill up two cases with Dom and the next best thing he could find.
Before Led Zeppelin arrived, the two cases of champagne were placed in the dressing room. Several hours later, I was again summoned to the dressing room.
"What is this?" the manager asked.
"Champagne?" I responded.
"Champagne. You call this garbage champagne?" he yelled.
I tried to explain the incredible effort it took to gather up the champagne to fill the cases, but he kept calling it garbage. Then, he reached for a bottle, one that cost me about $100 apiece, and threw it against the wall. Again and again until all 24 bottles were smashed. Two thousand and five hundred dollars disappeared before my eyes.
Alice Cooper 1972Alice Cooper (aka Vincent Furnier) and I got stuck together in his Hilton Hotel room in downtown Pittsburgh during a flood on a summer day back in 1972. I had him performing at Three Rivers Stadium that night. Our conversation fell far from what you would think considering his stage persona at that time. He was a really down to earth guy. We mostly discussed the stock market and the political times. I quite enjoyed him. Eventually he did play a very successful show, breaking the attendance record for a rock concert in Pittsburgh set earlier that summer by my Three Dog Night show at Three Rivers.
- Pat DiCesare
By Pat DiCesare
One of my favorite acts was Chicago. The group had an allegiance to me because I took a chance on them early in their career. In the mid '60s they competed with Blood Sweat and Tears for the same audience. I thought that Chicago was the better group and I helped them to get radio play and brought them to the arena before they were really big. By 1972 I had played them more times than any other act, and the show always sold out.
One time I had Alice Cooper scheduled for Three Rivers Stadium in June and Chicago scheduled for July 11. Unfortunately, the Alice Cooper date at Three Rivers Stadium got flooded out, and I had to reschedule it to the only date the group had available -- the same day as the Chicago gig at the arena.
I didn't want to do that because it could affect sales for the Chicago show, but I had no choice. On that night, I had to be at both the stadium and the arena. I made sure I arrived at the arena during intermission to see Chicago before they went on. Just as I got to the arena, I was summoned to their dressing room.
Before I went back, I checked on ticket sales. Only 8,800 had been sold -- a poor showing.
"What are you doing running two shows tonight?" they barked when I got to the dressing room. "Why did you book us the same night as you have a ball park date? You should know better."
I had to do a lot of explaining. Their egos were bruised. They couldn't handle the fact that the house didn't sell out. Just for that incident my relationship with the agent was never the same. Agents definitely have short memories in this business.
By Pat DiCesare
Sonny and Cher -- a sold-out affair on Aug. 15, 1972 -- was another great show. At the time, I managed a brother and sister group called The Walkers who could imitate any of the acts. When they learned I was bringing Sonny and Cher in, they asked for two tickets in the front row. I thought they were just big fans of the group. However, I had failed to realize just what they planned to accomplish with the request.
On the night of the show, they dressed like Sonny and Cher. They looked exactly like them. They hired a limo and drove up to the arena entrance. They were escorted into the arena and all the way to the front row. People rushed up to them, taking pictures and getting autographs. The Walkers were creating quite the scene.
When the real Sonny, who was back stage, peeked at the crowd, he saw The Walkers imitating them. There was another call to the box office.
"What is going on down by the stage?" he asked.
I didn't know what he was talking about.
"Either you get rid of those two or we are not going on," Sonny yelled.
Several security guards and I had to escort The Walkers to the back of the arena. They changed clothes, and I sat them in the back. Sonny was furious. The Walkers were just trying to have fun, but it could have cost me my reputation.
Original artical, Thursday, December 10, 2009, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Scott Mervis
The first visit to Pittsburgh was April 15, 1975, at the Stanley Theatre with Rush. Rich Engler, just a few years into the formation of concert giant DiCesare-Engler Productions, remembers that night for a few reasons. First of all, he loved the idea of Kiss, even though he wasn't all that familiar with the music. Not many people were, as there was no radio support for the band. "None," Engler recalls, "but it didn't matter. We wrote our own radio spots, saying 'Kiss is hotter than hell and dressed to kill!' and those spots got the curiosity seekers out. They also had the Kiss Army and they were diehard." On the day of the show, Kiss management informed Engler that the band wanted a limo. Engler hadn't worked that into the budget, so he talked his wife into picking them up at the airport in their Rolls-Royce. "This one time," she declared.
Original artical, Sunday May 30, 2010, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Pat DiCesare
Bruce Springsteen was probably the greatest for many reasons. The first time I saw him perform was in the mid-'70s at a show that DiCesare-Engler did at Kutztown State University. I remember running to the phone to call Rich Engler. I told him, "I just saw the greatest rock 'n' roll act of all time. We've got to get the guy to Pittsburgh. This guys's gonna be huge!"
We played him everywhere from the Stanley to the stadium, but you could depend on a Civic Arena sell-out from the Boss every time. You also knew that the crowd was going to behave. Pittsburgh loved Bruce Springsteen. We even gave Mayor Richard Caliguiri tickets for the Born in the USA tour. Bruce would sell out so fast, and I would get so many ticket requests, that I would have to change my home answering machine to start off, "If you're calling about Springsteen tickets ..."
He did not let his fame go to his head. He was always a pleasure to deal with. When he played his first show for us at the Syria Mosque, he wanted something to eat late at night. So Rich took him to a nice restaurant. Bruce wore jeans and a T-shirt and he ordered corn on the cob and apple pie.
That's Bruce Springsteen.
Original artical, Sunday June 21, 2009 , Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Scott Mervis
"You only had to say the date," says former concert promoter Rich Engler. "I knew exactly what you were talking about." It was the day that ZZ Top and Aerosmith, who play together at the Post-Gazette Pavilion Wednesday, pulled into town with the World Wide Texas Tour -- hands-down winner for the city's craziest show ever. "It was the craziest mix ever, that's for sure," Engler says. "It was ZZ Top, Aerosmith. They had cattle, they had rattlesnakes on stage. I liked the package but it was weird because it was the roughneck-beer-drinkers-hell-raisers, and this American hair-type band that was a different form of rock 'n' roll. It kind of collided with the chemistry, not only of the music but the crowd. There were a lot of calamities."
Original artical, Tuesday April 29, 2008, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Scott Mervis
Rich Engler, the man who brought them to Pittsburgh most of those times, has largely fond memories of Van Halen. "They were very personable guys," he says. They drew big crowds and never trashed his dressing rooms, so what was not to like? Of course, as a veteran promoter, Engler knew about a pound of prevention. Van Halen had that notoriously detailed rider complete with Article 126: "There will be no brown M&M's in the backstage area, upon pain of forfeiture of the show, with full compensation." Full Story
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Original artical, Thursday September 23, 2010 , Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Scott Mervis
Marley and the Wailers had just played two shows on the Uprising Tour opening for The Commodores at Madison Square Garden on Sept. 19-20. The next day he collapsed while jogging in Central Park and, during a hospital visit, was told the worst: The cancer he was diagnosed with three years earlier had spread, and he was advised to cease touring.
On the morning of the Sept. 23 show in Pittsburgh, Mr. Engler got another call.
"They're headed there," the agent said, "but I would be surprised if he plays."
"Around 2ish," Mr. Engler says, "they came in to do a soundcheck. I was looking around for Bob and found him in the dressing room, sitting on the couch, looking depressed and ill. I said, 'I heard you're not feeling well. I'm concerned. I hope you're feeling better. Are you going to play?' "He said, 'Mon, I wasn't going to, but I'm going to for my band and everybody. It's a sold-out show. I'm going to do it.' "
Original artical, Thursday March 12, 2009, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Scott Mervis
On the Kill Uncle tour in 1991, fans learned as they were walking up to the I.C. Light Amphitheatre at Station Square in the early July evening that the show was off.
Why?
“Nobody still knows why,” says Rich Engler, of the former DiCesare-Engler Productions. “We were really excited to get him at I.C. Light. The show sold out in advance. The day of the show comes, the crowd was all lined up. There was a brief thundershower around 5:30 that lasted till about 6. Then, the weather was clear. We cleaned off any dampness around the stage, and he chose not to go on.”
Some reports have The Moz not favoring the venue’s proximity to the train tracks.
“I don’t think anyone liked the train tracks,” Engler says, laughing. “I don’t remember any act coming up and saying, ‘Rich, I like these tracks.' ”
Original artical, Sunday May 30, 2010, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
By Pat DiCesare
These were the early days of "megaconcert" promoting. It was the start of the rock concert as we know it today. Back then, folks such as Tim and myself in Pittsburgh, Bill Graham Productions in San Francisco, Electric Factory Concerts in Philadelphia, Belkin Productions in Cleveland and Sid Bernstein in New York were each inventing a new business -- "rock concert promoter."
It was an exciting time for us. Even though we were competitors, we shared cordial relationships. It wasn't uncommon to get a call from Mike Belkin asking how "such and such" band did for me in Pittsburgh or how I think an act would do in Cleveland. And we, of course, paid attention to how shows did for them in the trade magazines such as Billboard.
In the '60s, we still weren't sure which way the business was headed. Was rock 'n' roll really here to stay?
The story about how Pittsburgh almost had a 20,000 seat amphitheatre just 20 minutes North of the city,
and the beginning of Star Lake Amphitheatre.
By Pat DiCesare
There was a new concept in concert venues at that time (1984) – the outdoor amphitheatre. This type of venue was traditionally used for symphony orchestras or perhaps country music. The Civic Arena was originally built with the retractable roof for the CLO, but it really never caught on. I always thought that Pittsburgh should have an amphitheatre. People could sit out on the lawn, spread out a blanket, stretch out their legs, and listen to some music. Venues like Tanglewood Amphitheatre in Boston were the protégé for a trend to come. Arena rock acts would become amphitheatre rock acts. Today, it seems like every major media market has a 20,000 seat amphitheatre. Back then there were only a handful of these venues.
So, when the Stanley sale became public, I went to Mayor Caligiuri and said, “You have heard that the Stanley has been sold. I have a plan that I think will be a great cultural and architectural contribution to our city. DiCesare-Engler would like to build an amphitheatre and festival grounds on the North Shore next to Three Rivers Stadium.” Full Story
This is the story of how the DiCesare-Engler team built the successful month long Halloween show at the IC Light Amphitheatre
from the ground up in the 1990s.
By Pat DiCesare
We employed almost 200 people a night who worked 6 to 8 hours per night. We didn’t want them to work more than 40 hours per week. That meant we needed at least 150 workers. I did a “back of an envelope” calculation before I took the numbers to our in house accountant Bill Proper. Bill was a good guy who could crunch the numbers. I figured we needed around 800 paid admissions per night. We charged $8.50. But that was a very rough number. I did wonder if we could do that every night for 30 nights. That would be 24,000 paid admissions just to break even. I thought to myself, “That’s a lot of people. Am I doing the right thing?” That’s the way the promotion business is – always a gamble. You never know if you are going to make money. But I did have a good feeling for this show and that’s one thing I would always go with - instinct. Full Story