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Crystal Bernard Spreads Wings in New Direction: Pop
Music
From: CNN 5/7/99
By: Andy Culpepper
LOS ANGELES (CNN) -- We've known she's funny. We've
known she's from the South. With that accent, who could
deny either?
What some may not have known is what a terrific singer
she is. Crystal Bernard made a name for herself in television
sitcoms -- "Wings," "It's A Living," "Happy
Days," among them. Now, she's poised to enter a
new phase of stardom as a recording artist of no mean
talent.
This pint-sized (5 feet 3 inches) actress is quite the
singer-songwriter, a fact she displays in earnest on
her recently released album, "Don't Touch Me There" (River
North/Platinum Records).
It's her second album, following her 1996 debut, "The
Girl Next Door." Someone who hasn't heard Bernard
sing before may be in for a surprise.
No smoke and mirrors here. The woman can sing and does
so in a clear, lilting -- dare we say crystal? -- soprano.
Bernard's first album flirted with country, but this
latest offering with its pleasing array of thought-provoking
stylings can only be considered pop -- all penned by
the actress herself. She even co-produced.
Impressive, indeed.
Bernard lives high above the Los Angeles fray in a gated
community off Mulholland Drive. It's an enclave shared
by many of Hollywood's famous -- Pamela Anderson Lee
is a neighbor. The trappings of wealth are apparent.
For the record, Bernard's home is as ostentatious as
they come -- 11,000 square feet spread over at least
three floors, complete with tennis pool and audacious
view. The actress-cum-singer is something altogether
different, though perhaps nonetheless audacious.
She descends a huge staircase -- it makes her seem even
more petite -- wearing a blue pullover top and jeans,
her trademark strawberry blonde tresses falling over
her shoulders, bangs framing a smiling, eager face. "Hi,
I'm Crystal," she says as she extends her hand.
It's the first step in what becomes almost two hours
of philosophizing. The notion of this being work seems
almost laughable. And why not? Bernard is, after all,
an entertainer.
Topic one? Happiness versus contentment. It's an internal
debate Bernard seems intent on winning at a time when
she sees a definite need to find some roses to stop and
smell.
"'Happy' comes from the Greek word which means
'happenstance,' which means like a roller coaster," she
declares as she makes a rolling motion with her hands
and utters a little "whoosh!"
"So, it's an exhilaration," she continues. "'Happy'
is a strange word. Are you happy at your birthday party?
Yes. After your birthday party, you're sad. Whatever
those two words mean, I don't know. But are you content
with yourself?" She punctuates the sermonette with
a nod and a smile.
Bernard grew up on the road singing gospel with her
family. Her father was a minister. The practice of sharing
her thoughts and inspirations -- ministering, if you
will -- might be second nature by now.
After three television series -- successful programs,
at that -- she's had time to take stock of what she deems
important. "And it's all about how you are every
hour of your day," she says matter-of-factly. "And
if you're present in every situation."
"I've been thinking about...," she pauses
as if to find the precise word. "If we're talking
about the catharsis of my life ... I've been thinking
about enjoying everything more.
"Enjoying life, enjoying every situation, and what
do I get out of it?" She measures the words, one
at a time. "Not 'What do I get out of this interview,'
the publicity ... and if I can sell more albums from
this interview."
Bernard's songs reflect this invigorated search for
the ever-changing notion of "more." One, in
particular, begs explanation.
"Gardenia" is a haunting, introspective ballad
Bernard fashioned as a sort of musical tribute to the
late dancer-actress Ginger Rogers.
Bernard became acquainted with the late movie star at
a 90th birthday bash for Bob Hope.
A woman approached Bernard at the table at which she
and her father were sitting. Someone wanted to meet the "Wings" star.
"'I don't know if you've heard of her,'" Bernard
says, recalling the words the woman said. "'Her
name is Ginger Rogers.'" Here, Bernard becomes animated,
snapping her fingers to emphasize the jolt the name delivered. "I
was up out of my chair and going over...of course I just
fell all over her talking to her."
Rogers, who was frail and seated in a wheel chair, gave
the younger performer her telephone number. They became
friends. Five years later, the screen legend died. Bernard
did some soul searching.
"I didn't spend all the time that I wish I could
have spent with her. And when she died, it was such a
surprise, and it was a heartache for me."
"This woman was the toast of the country," Bernard
explains. "Every woman wanted to be her. Every man
wanted to be with her. And then she died alone. And I
thought, 'Where were all those people who loved her?'"
Themes of love and loss shape much of the singer's new
material. The provocatively titled "Don't Touch
Me There" actually refers to Bernard's heart --
and to a relationship long ago which taught a younger,
ambitious actress what love was and wasn't.
"I was desperate for this man," she says of
this unnamed object of her affections. "Talk about
unconditional love -- because I excused all his behavior.
He didn't want me to fulfill any of my dreams, and it
dawned on me that he didn't love me."
The man in her life now might be country singer Billy
Dean if he weren't what's become known in '90s-speak
as "geographically undesirable." The two have
become close despite their 2,000-miles-plus separation.
Dean lives in Nashville.
"And the truth is," Bernard begins, sincerity
etched in her forehead. "... I would love to date
him. I would love for him to pick me up and go to a movie
and go on a date .... We talk on the phone all the time
... I like who I am when I'm with him. He sees things
in me that no one else sees in me."
Dean worked with Bernard on her first album, and joined
her in singing a couple of the tunes.
But she refers to her latest album, "Don't Touch
Me There," as "organic pop." And truth
be told, this material should be no great revelation
for students of mainstream pop music.
Singers who've recorded songs Bernard has authored include
Paula Abdul, Lisa Stansfield and Tracie Spencer. Peter
Cetera heard her demo tape and asked her to sing a duet
with him. It subsequently stayed on the pop charts for
months.
Of the 10 songs from her new collection, Bernard doesn't
hesitate when she's asked to name a favorite. It's called,
simply, "Hey."
"I think probably because it came so quickly. I
felt all these feelings. I was at the studio in Charlotte
(North Carolina), and this experience had happened to
me. And we were in a break ... and I went to the piano,
and I just started playing them. Talk about things just
coming out of the air.
"It's very easy to write a lot of words to express
your thoughts, but to say very little but express a full
thought -- that's why I like this song," she affirms.
It's another rumination about relationships -- understandings
and misunderstandings. And it serves as a catalyst for
Bernard to explain her fascination with songwriting,
this well-hidden secret she's kept from the majority
of her fans over the years.
Bernard makes the leap back in time as if it were yesterday. "I
remember when," and here she gestures for emphasis,
touching her temple in a pointing motion. "I remember
the moment .... Do you remember 'The Sonny and Cher Show?'" she
asks, as if it were some esoteric event out of television's
past.
"That was my training. When you ask me who were
my musical influences? Sonny and Cher. That's it. Cher
wrote 'Let It Be,' all the Beatles' songs ...." She
tosses her head back and laughs. "All the Three
Dog Night songs -- those are Cher's."
She's kidding, of course, but the point she makes is
ironic. Cher began her Hollywood adventure as student
of acting who found overnight success as a pop star.
Bernard sang for years before stumbling into an acting
career on her first visit to Hollywood. No experience,
no training. Boom. An audition for director Garry Marshall. "I
was ignorant enough to be successful," she laughs,
recalling her early boldness. She won a role in Marshall's
first feature, "Young Doctors in Love." Singing
was put on hold as a burgeoning sitcom career flourished.
The comparison to her childhood inspiration makes her
think.
"It is interesting, isn't it?" She muses. "I
was so intrigued with (Cher). And very much idolized
her."
So now Crystal Bernard the singer sits back to watch
this new career take shape. "If you believe it,
it can happen," she says. The added irony is eerie:
Cher's first No. 1 hit in years, "Believe," echoes
a similar theme.
Is she now an actress who sings or a singer who acts? "I
don't know," she ponders. "I feel like an artist.
Just an artist."
"An artist is someone who goes from the heart,
and it goes straight to someone else's heart ... You
don't get it. You don't receive from it. But that's what
art is -- when you feel it, and that's what I'm passionately
nuts about. I love that."
Bernard goes to her piano and plays part of "Hey," singing
softly to her accompaniment. For a moment, there seems
to be the scent of roses mingling with the music, as
Bernard leans over the keys, lost in her tune. |