All of my memories of the more than 40 years of friendship gifted to me by Jonathan Curtsinger are filled with his open-hearted generosity, talent, and cheerful spirit.

We met in 1982 backstage at the Shubert Theater in Los Angeles.  He and I were the newest cast members in a production of Evita that had been running with the same company of 42 performers for the past two years.  Working in a theatrical production that runs for a long time tends to form bonds between the performers in the show.  But Jonathan and I were the new kids and hadn’t yet found our place in the family.

When I say we met backstage it wasn’t like we had time for a formal introduction.  When you are a replacement for a performer who is leaving an existing company, you get taught your part separately and then watch from backstage for a couple of shows before you are ready to perform.  The night I met Jonathan I hadn’t actually met anyone in the company except the dance captain who taught me my part in the show.  What I couldn’t have known, as I stood by myself in the wings stage right watching my first live performance, tracking in my head the roles that I would be taking over the next day, was that it had been only a day since the death of Jonathan’s mother.

At end of the first act number “Peron’s Latest Flame” Jonathan’s exited into the wing where I was standing.  He had just finished a scene in a thoroughly professional manner, singing in his beautifully trained, operatic basso voice making it through the number without a hitch.  As he stepped behind the stage curtains, out of sight of the audience,  he made a beeline right for me, threw his arms around me and burst into tears. I wouldn’t know the why of it until later. But you couldn’t help but know that this human being needing comforting.

I still hadn’t had the chance to actually introduce myself to him, but for the next several days Jonathan got hugs from me whenever he needed them.

It was not the average start to a friendship but it was filled with sincerity and gratitude from both us and it wasn’t long before Jonathan started calling himself my “adopted big brother”.  And, let me tell you here and now, he lived up to his chosen title! 

Over the years I saw one example after another of Jonathan’s caring and generosity extended to everyone within his circles.  He was a man with a very big voice and a very big heart who gave of himself in every way that he could.

One more cherished anecdote about Jonathan:  December is a busy month for birthdays.   Many years after our backstage meeting, two of my fellow December birthday friends and I decided to throw ourselves a collective birthday party.  Between the three of us we had somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 guests. Jonathan was there and so was my mother. Over the years Jonathan had met my mother just a few times.

I was busy with hostess duties. So when Jonathan spotted my mother he approached on his own and said to her, “You remember me? I’m your adopted son.” To which my mother said, in her native Brooklyn accent, “Yeah, sure. So how come you never call me?”

Jonathan’s Basso Profundo laughter filled the room. 

That moment and the backstage hugs from a man I barely knew will be the memories I cherish most when I remember my friend, Jonathan Curtsinger.

Tara Sitser,

Los Angeles, CA January 2024