April 16 & May 14 OK. Feeling much better – TY for asking! Best – dw
That was my final message from Dennis Wolkowicz (aka Jay Warren) on February 18. Less than a week later, he was gone.
My first introduction to Jay was, like many moviegoers, through the Silent Film Society of Chicago, which he co-founded. This was twenty-five years ago when Jay performed organ accompaniment at the Gateway Theatre in Jefferson Park. At that time, the “Silent Summer” film screenings were huge events that attracted thousands– not hundreds– of people. This is where I was also introduced to stars like Harold Lloyd, who thrilled audiences by scaling a building in Safety Last! I remember seeing many other films during those summers, and I still have the programs somewhere. But it was the memory of seeing the films with my dad and hearing Jay play that stayed with me. I don’t remember the exact notes or what cues Jay used for which scenes, but I remember the collective emotions his music brought out in me. It made that specific evening with my dad all the more special. That’s the magic of movies. It’s not just what’s playing up on the screen but who is there with you in the theatre during the experience. Jay Warren heightened that family memory.
My professional relationship with Jay occurred ten years later when we joined forces to do a screening of Harold Lloyd’s Speedy at the Pickwick Theatre. This was in 2011, a couple years before we started a regular classic film series at the Pickwick. The event was co-sponsored by the Park Ridge Public Library. This particular screening has the distinction of being the last classic film we ever played here on 35mm film. Jay and I did two more collaborations before I started the Pickwick Theatre Classic Film Series in 2013. And Jay was there with me on Day 1 when we opened with 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Jay performed the pre-show music that night, and then a couple months later we presented Douglas Fairbanks in Thief of Bagdad with one of Jay’s atmospheric and rousing organ accompaniments.
Over the years we’ve all enjoyed his music whether it was in a theatre or at a local library. I’m grateful I was able to have him for two events when I did shows at the library, especially when we opened our Ernst Lubitsch series with Mary Pickford in Rosita. The 2023 season was my last at the Park Ridge library, so in retrospect, it was even more special for me to have Jay present. It was always a lot of work for him setting up his digital organ and carrying all that equipment. His partner, Linda, was always there at his side to help with the details and be his emotional support. He seemed tireless, which was amazing to me because his schedule was always demanding and packed with events all across Chicagoland and the Midwest. I may have taken it for granted that he’d always be there when we needed him, but behind the scenes, he was wearing down physically, much like our now silent Mighty Wurlitzer. He knew which notes to avoid and played around the bad ones on the organ, and likewise, he found ways to get around his own ailments. For Jay, the show had to go on.
Despite nearing his mid-seventies, Jay had a show booked almost every day last October, which tells you how in-demand he was, particularly during the Halloween season. He could’ve probably played the score to Nosferatu in his sleep he had played it so many times. He never got tired of The Phantom of the Opera, though, which was his favorite, but he admitted to me there were some Chaplin features, like The Kid, that he probably needed a break from. I was impressed with him when I showed the silent epic Wings at the Pickwick. Jay insisted on performing at the matinee and evening performances, and that’s not a short film either. I would sometimes kid him that we should show Abel Gance’s five-and-a-half hour Napoleon. He always made his performances appear easy because he was never turning pages on a cue sheet. It was all in his head, but nonetheless. he practiced at home before these shows.
Through those many keys and stops on the console, Jay Warren breathed life into venues that had all but closed down. The Patio Theatre didn’t have any heat or air-conditioning, but there he was to entertain a small crowd of horror enthusiasts. He single-handedly revitalized the Portage Theatre in Chicago, which in turn revitalized Six Corners. Building the community was important to him, and he was recognized by the Chamber of Commerce for his efforts to improve the Portage Park neighborhood.
Jay didn’t court fanfare or publicity. It was nice when he got it, but he was very humble about it. When WGN Morning News visited us during our first season of classic movies here, I wanted to make sure Jay Warren got the largest block of time for the segment. That’s how I mapped it out for the producer. Unfortunately, film critic Dean Richards took it as an opportunity to show himself rising from the organ pit and “playing.” That didn’t bother Jay. He was just happy if we left his flyers out on the table advertising his next show. He was content with that.
But now there will be no more flyers on the table. There were many performances on his calendar. I have two friends who were going to enlist Jay for upcoming shows. Sadly, those will never materialize. I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to do a 100th anniversary screening of Metropolis in 2027– my favorite silent film– that is, if I could’ve talked him out of a retirement I assumed he would be in at that point. I imagined him on a beach in Hawaii maybe, and I’d be reaching out to him by phone for one more curtain call. We won’t have Jay to do our pre-show music this April or May– dates he told me he was available. This past February’s scheduled performance before Casablanca would’ve been his last, but he just didn’t have the stamina to come out due to a recent hospital stay. Instead, I think back and try to recall all the details of his last performance for us in November when we played The Best Years of Our Lives. It’s fitting that he would do the pre-show music for one of the greatest American films of all-time. I say “pre-show” because he used to kid me about using the term “prelude” music.
At the Park Ridge Public Library for Fritz Lang’s Destiny…
I am grateful for all the performances and memories he shared with us. I’ll miss his technical jargon when he tried to explain to me what an organ cipher was before sending me up to the organ loft to try and find it! (Pickwick co-owner Dave Loomos and I tried to find that wonky pipe, which was making the loud hum.) I’ll miss Jay’s movie recommendations, as when he suggested I show The Swimmer with Burt Lancaster, which I’ll have to see now. I’ll miss asking him about his beloved Northwestern Wildcats, and he often wore a purple sweater in support of the team. And I’ll miss standing up here onstage and thanking him for being with us– but always remembering not to call him Dennis in front of the audience! He always wanted that to be hush-hush in front of a crowd, but he said it in a good-natured way.
These are just some small moments and pieces of the larger story he left. Some of you have been with Jay for much longer and have seen far more of his performances. Whether it was here or at the Arcada or the Logan or the Des Plaines Theatre– or one of those more offbeat venues like the Pleasant Home in Oak Park– you have memories that will stay with you. His music brought life to very old images, some now more than a century old, but no movie was ever truly silent with Jay Warren performing. Our Mighty Wurlitzer is quiet tonight, of course, but as long as we remember Jay Warren, we’ll hear those strains of “Hooray For Hollywood” or some such song he often played before the show. Jay Warren was literally an institution in the Chicago film community, and he will be greatly missed by all of us.
So for one final time I will say, please give a round of applause to Mr. Jay Warren.
~MCH
Beka, Shannon and Linda in Dennis’ DeSoto before our screening of American Graffiti in 2019…