Photograph by Greg Rannells
Impresario Steve Schankman has produced just about every big event in St. Louis for three decades, from Bud Light Fright Night to the pope’s visit. He and Irv Zuckerman created Contemporary Productions in 1968, and by the time they sold it to SFX Broadcasting, Inc., for $90 million, they’d built the Riverport (now Verizon Wireless) Amphitheater, partnered with Joe Edwards on The Pageant, started Dialtix and put St. Louis on the concert map. “People like spectacle,” says the modern-day coliseum-filler. He’s already reopened a smaller-scale version of Contemporary, and he plays the trumpet 100 nights a year with the Fabulous Motown Revue and Sessions Big Band. In a new book, Produced by Contemporary, Dick Richmond blows his horn for him.
Who influenced you? My father was a musician. My grandfather made me want to be a businessman. He came here because the czar was anti-Semitic; he snuck out of Russia on a manure wagon. I went to work for him at 12 at the family confectionery in East St. Louis.
You’re a bright guy—why’d you quit college? It was 1968, and I had a choice of finishing school and going on to law school or doing the Grateful Dead.
You went on to book U2 for $750—what’s the most you’ve paid? In the millions.
What was your proudest triumph? The night Riverport opened, June 14, 1991. [He looks into the distance, smiles. Then he gives a quick terrier shake, clearing his head.] Two weeks later, July 2, all of a sudden I’m in the box office, and our facility’s being destroyed, and somebody comes up holding the back of his seat, yelling, “I want a refund!”
Ah yes, the Guns N’ Roses riot. That was a dark moment. I remember trying to orchestrate that press release so people would still buy tickets. It’s like the zoo—it’s dangerous there, don’t think for a second a lion will not eat you—but we protect you.
Speaking of the Zoo, you donated the Paley sculpture plaza. Why? I was chairman of the board. I never wanted to be chairman. When they asked, I nearly choked on my dinner. I don’t know about animals. I got a golden retriever, that’s it. But I learned about the conservation side: We have to be careful that our animals don’t become extinct, because shortly thereafter, so do we.
What do people want? To be entertained. The masses don’t like minimalist productions; they want explosions, pyrotechnics, costumes. It’s no different than ancient times; people like spectacle.
Why did producing the pope’s visit mean so much to you? Sometimes you get what you ask for. I used to kid on radio interviews, they’d say, “What shows haven’t you done?” and I’d say, “Elvis Presley and the pope.” Elvis just wasn’t my era.
Do you really believe the Pink Sisters gave us good weather for his visit? Well, let me put it this way: Two weeks before, we were clearing snow off the roof and using the National Guard to clear the streets. And it wasn’t just the weather. Check with the police department—no crime!
So why aren’t you Catholic by now? Well, who knows that I’m not? I’m not a disbeliever in anything at this point. I’ve become quite spiritual, watching these things. I’ve prayed at Catholic churches; I’ve even gotten the snack.
You’ve produced shows with all the top comedians. What’s funny? Comedians backstage. Midway through his career, Steve Martin said to me, “Sure, Steve, I’m making more money, but I’ve got expenses. I’ve got strings for the banjo. I’ve got that arrow …” Bill Cosby was waiting to go on, and Tim Danis was supposed to talk for five minutes, because his father founded Cardinal Glennon [Children’s Medical Center], and he talked 20 minutes. I said, “Bill, do you want us to remove the podium before you go out?” He said, “Can you remove it now?”
When you took a chance on Louie Anderson and Roseanne Barr, did you know they’d go on to fame? Roseanne was a little nasty, but she was talking about things that moms think about. Women didn’t necessarily want to be Roseanne, but they understood the stories. Louie talked about his father, about growing up. Tim Allen, when he first played the American, we didn’t know.
What were some of the contract riders? Joe Cocker wanted Dom Pérignon. Yes wanted organic fruit. Bill Cosby wanted a $150 bottle of vodka. Who cares? What’s another couple hundred dollars for what we used to call “Talent Treatment”? Van Halen was no brown M&Ms. Aerosmith was no turkey roll …
And Robin Williams, I suspect, was a handful. He’s just like he is onstage. His birthday and my wife’s are on the same day; he called her one year and did this whole Popeye routine. He is unmanageable; you can’t contain him. All these Mork things come out all the time.
Why did Michael Milkin want to buy Contemporary Productions? I never asked him, ’cause we never met him. He sent his people in. At 60, you forget things: Up until a week before the last book edit, I thought it was Rupert Murdoch.
You did eventually sell, though—was it tough to do? It felt like the floor was falling out from under me. We sold in ’98. I went to New York and met the president of SFX in ’97—he initiated it—and I went back to the hotel and called my wife and said, “It’s over.”
Is your desk always this clear? I’m a Virgo; I can’t have a lot of stuff around. The less stress in your life, the better. That’s why music is so important; that’s where I run away. Like yesterday, we all got killed in the market, but from 8 to 10:30 p.m., I didn’t think about it. I was playing “Children of Sanchez” by Chuck Mangione.
