“Danny Kaye Is Man Of Many Sides: Far-Reaching Talents Seldom Seen Together”
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette – Sept. 24, 1962
“Danny Kaye,” a not-too-perspicacious interviewer once wrote, “has a split personality.”
To which Danny’s wife, brilliant Sylvia Fine chortled, “Danny’s personality isn’t
split—it’s shattered!”
There are so many facets to the entertainer’s highly individual self that it’s hard
for any one person ever to see them all, let alone catalogue and analyze them. There’s
Danny the clown, Danny the dedicated children’s ambassador for UNICEF, Danny the
father of a teenaged girl, the serious-minded student of world affairs, the man who
mingles freely with heads of state, the world traveler, the perceptive musician—and
on, ad infinitum.
A Relaxed Man
The stranger, meeting Danny Kaye for the first time, invariably is surprised. Anyone
who has seen Danny in any of his frenetic screen roles or has seen his highly charged
stage performance, expects to meet a volatile, high-strung, fast-talking individual.
Instead, they are likely to meet a relaxed, gangly man, looking astonishingly young,
who likes casual clothes, sits in a chair as though his spine had been removed and
speaks charmingly and authoritatively on a remarkable variety of subjects.
Danny’s interests are as varied as his many screen roles. He is a licensed pilot
and flies his own twin-engined Beechcraft Queen Air all over the United States. He
is intensely interested in medicine (he is the only non-professional member of the
American College of Surgeons); shoots golf in the seventies, is an excellent amateur
chef and the unchallenged ping-pong champion of West Beverly Hills, California. He
also conducts symphony orchestra for fund-raising benefit performances.
Likes and Dislikes
Danny is fond of: tweed jackets and slacks, molded rubber shoes he dubbed “Space
Shoes”, knitted neckties in solid colors, Japanese food, potato pancakes, corned
beef sandwiches, Jack Benny and conducting symphony orchestras. He dislikes: getting
“dressed up,” people who take themselves too seriously, sit-down dinners, regular
hours, or being confined to any one place for long periods of time—unless it’s a
podium in front of a symphony orchestra.