Chita Rivera: A Timeless Dance in the Heart of Chichi Astengo, 1933-2024

The first Broadway show I ever witnessed was “Bye, Bye Birdie,” and within ten minutes, I found myself enamored with Dick Van Dyke. His tall, lanky frame, characterized by loose limbs and arms, gave the impression of a clown trapped in an attractive man’s body. I didn’t merely want to emulate him; I aspired to be him. This desire stemmed from the opportunity to dance with the captivating Chita Rivera, a spellbinding dynamo. Even though I had seen many people dance in movie musicals, witnessing Rivera’s live performance was a jaw-dropping experience.

Rivera’s ability to dance nonstop, sing, and seamlessly transition between movements without a break left an indelible impression. Her control, speed, and astounding grace while whirling around were almost too much for a young admirer like me to comprehend. Despite this, I couldn’t tear my eyes away, captivated like a child experiencing a brain freeze but persistently licking their favorite flavored ices. By the time Rivera concluded her mesmerizing performance of “Spanish Rose,” I found myself under a spell that endured for the next fifty years. Subsequently, I never missed any Broadway show in which she starred and attended her cabaret acts whenever possible.

Rivera’s paramount talent and electrifying presence made her magnetic, transcending mere technical prowess. It wasn’t solely her extensions or razor-sharp footwork that garnered universal awe; rather, it was the spark in her eyes, the joy on her face, and the commitment of her body to the choreography. She danced as if it were the very essence of her existence, not a performance for survival. If producers could have bottled her exuberance, it would have sold out during intermission.

Apart from her exceptional dancing, Rivera possessed a voice tailor-made for live theater. Unlike the lilting tones of Kelli O’Hara or the belltone clarity of Sutton Foster, Rivera’s voice was piercing, with just enough rasp to make each note unforgettable. Even in flawed shows, she left an indelible mark. For instance, in Kander & Ebb’s ramshackle musical “The Rink,” her performance of “Don’t Ah Ma Me” was a mile-a-minute diatribe that outshone the show’s imperfections, earning her a Tony despite the production’s clunkiness.

One compelling reason why I never encountered anyone disliking her was her offstage persona. As a waiter at Joe Allen’s, the iconic theater restaurant, I had the privilege of serving her when she was dating Mr. Allen. Despite her petite stature, Rivera commanded attention the moment she entered the dining room. In that era, everyone at Joe’s was an actor/singer/waiter/dancer, referred to as a “gypsy” before the term fell out of use. Rivera seamlessly blended in with the staff, engaging in conversations about auditions, headshots, and more. She was the quintessential ‘gypsy.’

Her connection with fellow stage performers became even more apparent during the Actor’s Equity strike before the opening of the musical “Chicago.” Rivera, alongside co-star Gwen Verdon, led rallies in Shubert Alley, advocating for better wages for singers, understudies, and swing actors. Despite the strike being eventually settled, Rivera and Verdon never forgot their roots in the chorus, empathizing with those dreaming of center stage.

While Broadway’s 1975 season was overshadowed by “A Chorus Line,” the original production of “Chicago” was a thrilling experience for me. Watching Rivera and Verdon perform on stage was mesmerizing, not only for their extraordinary talent but also for the infectious enthusiasm they instilled in the “gypsies” filling the balcony.

Even after a career-threatening traffic accident in 1993, at the age of 60, Rivera defied expectations and returned to the stage in “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” earning another Tony. At 82, her footwork may have been minimal, but she continued to captivate audiences in Kander & Ebb’s musical adaptation of “The Visit.”

Rivera’s autobiography was a delightful and juicy read, complemented by her delicious and naughty cabaret acts. It’s no wonder the internet is flooded with tributes to her passing, as her legacy remains as glorious as a Spanish Rose, unmatched by any floral display from Boston to San Diego.