An Uptown Saturday Night

By William A. Henry III.

You can go home again, for a night at least. Or so they seemed to be singing, brothers and sisters. A Who's Who of pop music was onstage at the Apollo Theater, the Harlem home of funk and soul and rock 'n' roll, where many of the glittering lineup got their start. Diana Ross was there, having helicoptered in after two shows in Atlantic City. So were Smokey Robinson and Little Richard and Wilson Pickett, the Four Tops and Sarah Vaughan and Sammy Davis Jr. And dozens upon dozens of others. Joining in the homage were such white performers as Rod Stewart and Boy George. It seemed a once-in-a-lifetime concert, in aid of a venerated place.

From the age of vaudeville to the eve of the age of music videos, the white- owned Apollo nurtured black music. When the Beatles, on their first visit to the U.S., were asked what they wanted to see, No. 1 on their list was the Apollo. But after blacks broke into the mainstream and could play larger houses for larger fees, the Apollo declined. In 1976 it closed and lapsed into the realm of remembrance, like vaudeville at the Palace or P.T. Barnum's extravaganzas at the Hippodrome. Now it has been opened again by black businessmen, led by former Manhattan Borough President Percy Sutton, who plan to install a state-of-the-art video center so the shows can be recorded for TV distribution.

The kickoff was the 6-hr. show for 1,500 patrons on Saturday, May 4, and for millions who can see it as a 3-hr. TV special on NBC this Sunday. As befitted a night devoted to fond memories, it generated a few more. There was something old: Martha Reeves, looking better than ever as she reprised her Vandellas anthem, Nowhere to Run. Something new: Patti LaBelle joining Joe Cocker in an unlikely but inspired duet of his You Are So Beautiful. Something borrowed: the Four Tops stepping in at a moment's notice to sing backup to Boy George and Stevie Wonder in his new Part Time Lover. And something blue: Marilyn McCoo's rendition of Am I Blue? as a tribute to Ethel Waters. When the show didn't sing, it danced: Gregory Hines tapped in tribute to Teddy Hale, then Sammy Davis Jr. introduced seven old masters who demonstrated they could still glide and stomp. And it chuckled: M.C. Bill Cosby quipped and jived and, when Singer Jennifer Holliday was delayed, improvised his own burlesqued version of Gimme a Pigfoot. It also cried a river. The emotional climax came when Patti LaBelle sang You'll Never Walk Alone to Martin Luther King Jr.'s widow Coretta, who sat in a box with tears streaming down her cheeks.

The performers seemed as thrilled as the audience. Said Mary Wells: "It's like your house was condemned and then all of a sudden remodeled and reopened as history." But everyone acknowledged that for the comeback to last, box- office-caliber talent would have to cooperate. Asked if he would perform at the theater again, Stevie Wonder said, "I don't know." LaBelle warned of the need for sacrifice: "If we let our egos stay behind and let our pocketbooks stay empty for a while and just go do things for feeling and spirit and causes, I think the Apollo will survive." Meanwhile, for that night, the dream and the memory and the music drowned out the murmurs of caution. And one onlooker who had been there for all the glory times judged this perhaps the grandest. Said Francis ("Doll") Thomas, 91, an electrician at the theater since 1933: "This is about the happiest day of my life."

With reporting by Peter Ainslie/New York