In 1969, Roslyn was booked for an engagement at the Plaza Hotel’s legendary Persian Room—an accomplishment on any level but especially for an unknown eighteen year old. “I celebrated my nineteenth birthday during my Persian Room run,” Roslyn told me. The critics wrote that ‘she brought a youthful essence that was never known to that room.’ “I did songs like ‘Promises, Promises’ and ‘Hair’ because I was young and wasn’t going to do older songs. I was a little out of whack, with a whole different energy than they were used to. I was determined not to do stuff someone else was known for.
“There was a huge amount of pressure on me at the Persian Room because it was not only my New York debut, but also my first major introduction to both the public and the critics. The plan was for me to go out and make a big splash on my own, without the mention of Barbra Streisand—my mega- superstar sister. I needed time to develop as a performer without that attachment and comparison. Then I did The Ed Sullivan Show, and someone from my record company leaked it to the media. So then I had to evolve in full sight of everybody. On top of that, the Persian Room wasn’t like the little clubs—the ones in the village where you started without the rigamorole. This was major press and major people wanting to come and see and gasp. I had to live up to a lot of things I wasn’t ready to live up to.”
Ros told me about what it was like, working out of town to prepare her show for the big New York Show. “One night, while I was working at a club called the CopaHavan in Oklahoma City,” she began, “a big fight broke out. These drunken guys had stayed for both shows, and when they heard the same songs in my second show they got very pissed. We told them we were trying to break in a show for New York, and we had to do this material as much as possible. They were just not having it, and a big Western-style brawl broke out. I swear, people were flying over the banisters and over the bar, and my musical director signaled me to leave the stage by a different route. These guys were so rude and out of control the police had to be called in.
“Afterward, I saw my manager. He had been hit in the nose and his glasses were broken. He told me not to tell his wife. I had to laugh and replied, ‘You won’t have to say a word. She’s going to look at your nose and face, and she’ll know!’ That was my experience, in some of the towns in Oklahoma and Texas on the road leading up to the Persian Room. Thank God in New York you had maitre d’s to keep the weirdo’s at a distance.”
Roslyn went on to sing at other major settings around the world, seasoned by her early experiences—both on the road and at the Persian Room. “Someone once asked me,” she said, “‘What’s the difference between working a small room and a major venue?’ I said the trick is to make the humongous room feel like a small, intimate room. That’s my job. That’s why I’m here.”