‘I’ll never take anything for granted again…’
Michael York is beaming. It is sprinkling with rain when I arrive at his West Hollywood home, but a welcome fire is blazing in the hearth and Michael is dressed casually in open-neck blue shirt and beige trousers.
He looks every inch the English gentleman – and even more so when he dives off to the kitchen to serve tea and digestives.
He has every reason to be ecstatic. Not only has Michael just celebrated his 45th wedding anniversary and 71st birthday (he looks ridiculously younger than his years), but he’s also, finally, feeling energetic enough to travel – tomorrow, he’s off to Brazil. Because, for the last two years, Michael York has been suffering from a debilitating and potentially deadly illness.
Rarely seen in public since 2010, he appeared at a recent Cabaret reunion in New York, with co-stars Liza Minnelli and Joel Grey, looking pallid, with a hoarse voice and swollen features. Rumours circulated that he had throat cancer, the same disease that had afflicted Michael Douglas (ironically, both Douglas and York fell ill within weeks of each other). But now, for the first time, Michael quashes the rumours and reveals the truth behind the illness – a rare blood disorder, which nearly killed him.
‘I don’t have throat cancer. Absolutely not,’ Michael says. ‘It all began two years ago, when I was doing a miniseries with Tom Conti.
‘I noticed I was getting dark circles under my eyes. At first, I was able to cover them up with make-up but it got worse and was really becoming evident. So I had to wear dark glasses.’
After first being diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a type of cancer of the bone marrow, doctors concluded that he had amyloidosis, a rare blood disorder that deposits abnormal proteins throughout the body. Highly destructive, it breaks down tissue and is often fatal. Michael was lucky.
‘I lost my voice – completely. Which for an actor, is a bit alarming,’ he says with typical British understatement. ‘Now it’s sort of back.’
Last July, Michael underwent an unusual stem-cell transplant at the famed Mayo clinic. They extracted stem cells from his blood, gave him chemotherapy ‘during which, sadly, all my hair disappeared’, then put the stem cells back. The illness played havoc with Michael’s youthful looks, but he takes it in his stride. ‘My face is a little swollen,’ he says. ‘That’s probably from the meds but also from the illness itself. There are deposits all over.’
And he is now hopeful of a full recovery. ‘They said it would be six months before the tissue even starts to heal, and I’m sort of in that ballpark now, and noticing an enormous return of energy. So I know,’ – he leans forward and taps the lounge table – ‘touch wood, that things are getting better. I know this can be deadly, but I never gave up. I am thrilled at this reprieve and want to do as much as I can to make it better.’
As for his hair… ‘I rather like being butt naked on top. It’s a strong look!’ he says. I say it’s very fashionable – and he laughs wryly.
His enforced sequester certainly gave him plenty of time to ruminate. And, during it, he tells me softly, ‘I discovered just how very much I love my wife [celebrated photographer, Pat York]. She’s been amazing. Like a lioness. She was so proactive. She had all the questions for the doctors, and she knew the answers – she’s queen of the internet. What she did was such a powerful thing. She’s always been so positively behind me. We have a great relationship. I’ve been very, very lucky.’
They met 46 years ago in London, when Pat, already a noted American photographer, had an assignment to photograph Michael, the rising star. ‘I was told that someone called Pat McCallum was coming for an interview,’ he recalls, ‘so I was expecting this Irishman. But I opened the door, and there’s this beautiful blonde. She came in, but I didn’t see her camera bag. I made her a cup of tea and we began chatting. After a time I said, “Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” and she gave me a funny look and said, “No”.
‘I thought it must be some strange new form of interview technique.’ He smiles warmly, remembering. ‘We just clicked! It’s funny – it was as though we were picking up on an earlier life. Like we’d been together all the time.’
Shortly after they met, Michael had to go to India to film The Guru. ‘We stayed at the Maharajah’s palace because it was very remote and there were no hotels.’ He took Pat with him, but she became violently ill and almost died. Her life was only saved by a surgeon, who happened to be visiting, too.
‘I’d already proposed to her on Juhu Beach in Mumbai on Valentine’s Day,’ Michael recounts. ‘How corny can you get? But it just seemed right. And the timing was great. We were idyllically happy… and then just a few weeks later she was dying. I more or less carried her back to England in my arms, and we got married at Kensington Register Office on my birthday.’
On this atypical Californian afternoon, he is feeling especially vigorous and healthy. Last weekend, Michael and Pat went to a health centre to ‘clean ourselves out’.
‘I thought that the bloody chemo was awful and probably not out of my system, so I thought I’d see if I could get rid of it. The centre looks like a superannuated old folks’ home, in a place with a magical name, Lemon Grove – which is actually wall-to-wall suburbia. Not a lemon in sight.’
And did it work?
‘Oh God, yes! I could have run all the way home. It flushes everything out. And there are seminars on fruit combining and all the things we should be doing. It’s all part of the regimen so that you fill your life with wellness.’
Wellness is what Michael York is all about these days. He hasn’t wanted to talk about his illness before now because he didn’t want to focus on the downside of it – but now he can view it in terms of recovery.
We walk outside to the pool area and Michael shows me his latest acquisitions: a multitude of small orange trees. ‘I planted them,’ he says proudly. ‘Aren’t they lovely? They’ve got to get a bit bigger before they fruit.’ He has even placed a couple of shop-bought oranges among the branches, ‘to encourage them to grow’. Unfortunately, marmalade is now off the menu. ‘But I still have a jar of Frank Cooper’s, which I look at with great nostalgia,’ he says.
For the past 36 years, Michael and Pat have lived in the same charming house tucked away in the heart of the Hollywood foothills. It resembles a small French chateau, airy and spacious. ‘When we moved here in the 1970s, it wasn’t so desirable; hippies were roaming the hills. But now everyone wants to live in this neighbourhood.’
Early next month, Michael is performing (and singing) in My Fair Lady at the prestigious Kennedy Center in Washington DC. He’s hoping President Obama will attend. ‘It’s a gala, a one-night performance. Jonathan Pryce is going to play Henry Higgins, I’m Pickering, and Julie Andrews has a cameo role.’
A prolific writer (he’s written three autobiographical books), he was also one of the subjects of British Legends Of Stage And Screen (‘It’s nice, I’m now officially a legend!’). He can spout Shakespeare on demand and tell you anything you ever wanted to know about the Bard.
He even has a white marble bust of him on his mantelpiece. ‘He’s The Man,’ he enthuses. ‘He really is – whoever he was. He created our language, as did the King James Bible. He was so fertile.’
Oxford-educated Michael’s early career was spent in theatre and while at the National Theatre, under Laurence Olivier, he worked for director Franco Zeffirelli. His film career got off to an auspicious start when Zeffirelli cast him in The Taming Of The Shrew, opposite Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. Then Joseph Losey’s Accident, with Dirk Bogarde, cemented his arrival on the big screen. He’d already made his mark in television via the highly acclaimed The Forsyte Saga.
He turned down the lead role in Love Story, but films such as the cult movie Logan’s Run, The Three Musketeers and the Austin Powers trilogy enhanced his popularity. And he seems equally at home in comedy and drama – ‘I love them both. Right from the start I didn’t want to be put in a box.’
Inevitably, talk comes round to Cabaret, which, incredibly, was first released 41 years ago, and I ask Michael if he has one particular memory of the film. ‘Let me count the ways,’ he grins, boyishly. ‘It was such a pleasurable thing to do. Not everything is. Usually the ones that turn out well are torture to make. But we all loved [director] Bob Fosse – he had a vision, and he was so concentrated. And then, of course, it all happened. The Oscar, the Tony, the Grammy, all in one year, and suddenly the legend was rolling.’
Critics loved it, one of them being moved to acknowledge Michael’s ‘impossibly sexy face’. That face and his exquisite voice have put him in huge demand over the years. Indeed, during the early part of his illness, he was able to continue with his narration to the accompaniment of music. Whether an album of love poems or prayers with new-age musicians, Amadeus with Leonard Slatkin or Henry V with Sir Neville Marriner, he has always found narrating to music especially enjoyable.
He has a special fondness for the Colors Of Feelings CD he narrated, because Philip Lasser’s music and song cycle, based around four poems, encourages healing. ‘I’m very interested in healing. The CD features all these fabulous words and music and lots of healing sections with a wonderful meditation,’ he explains.
Michael’s illness has forced him to cut out some of his favourite things, including cups of good old English tea. ‘But then I discovered a world of herbal teas, and they come in all sorts of flavours. I found a wonderful one in Toronto,’ he tells me passionately. ‘It’s called Wild Sweet Orange and is a juicy, herbal infusion of orange peel, citrus, herbs, lemongrass and – wait for it – liquorice root. And it’s absolutely delicious. Everyone got mildly hooked on it.’
Including Michael: so much so that he tracked it down on the internet and ordered a case. It must taste pretty good, I say, to go to all that trouble – so he gives me a box to try for myself.
On a previous visit, I had left behind my fluffy pink and purple boa – and Michael had found it hugely amusing. ‘Having worn your scarf for the past week to great acclaim,’ he emailed me, ‘I am naturally reluctant to give it up! But I will keep it safe until you return.’
But then he has always had a great sense of humour. In a recent article about Downton Abbey, for example, he wrote, ‘It has more plots than a cemetery.’ Indeed, it is this asset – coupled with Pat – that has been his saving grace throughout his illness.
As I leave – with both my scarf and the box of Wild Sweet Orange tea – I ask him what has been the most positive e ect of his illness. ‘That, from now on, I will never take anything for granted,’ he answers with a gentle smile.
‘I’m grateful for every day I’ve been given, and I’m determined not to waste it.’
For more about amyloidosis, go to the Amyloidosis Foundation at www.amyloidosis.org
Lasser: Colors Of Feelings costs £13.45 at www.amazon.co.uk
Copyright Barbra Paskin
He looks every inch the English gentleman – and even more so when he dives off to the kitchen to serve tea and digestives.
He has every reason to be ecstatic. Not only has Michael just celebrated his 45th wedding anniversary and 71st birthday (he looks ridiculously younger than his years), but he’s also, finally, feeling energetic enough to travel – tomorrow, he’s off to Brazil. Because, for the last two years, Michael York has been suffering from a debilitating and potentially deadly illness.
Rarely seen in public since 2010, he appeared at a recent Cabaret reunion in New York, with co-stars Liza Minnelli and Joel Grey, looking pallid, with a hoarse voice and swollen features. Rumours circulated that he had throat cancer, the same disease that had afflicted Michael Douglas (ironically, both Douglas and York fell ill within weeks of each other). But now, for the first time, Michael quashes the rumours and reveals the truth behind the illness – a rare blood disorder, which nearly killed him.
‘I don’t have throat cancer. Absolutely not,’ Michael says. ‘It all began two years ago, when I was doing a miniseries with Tom Conti.
‘I noticed I was getting dark circles under my eyes. At first, I was able to cover them up with make-up but it got worse and was really becoming evident. So I had to wear dark glasses.’
After first being diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a type of cancer of the bone marrow, doctors concluded that he had amyloidosis, a rare blood disorder that deposits abnormal proteins throughout the body. Highly destructive, it breaks down tissue and is often fatal. Michael was lucky.
‘I lost my voice – completely. Which for an actor, is a bit alarming,’ he says with typical British understatement. ‘Now it’s sort of back.’
Last July, Michael underwent an unusual stem-cell transplant at the famed Mayo clinic. They extracted stem cells from his blood, gave him chemotherapy ‘during which, sadly, all my hair disappeared’, then put the stem cells back. The illness played havoc with Michael’s youthful looks, but he takes it in his stride. ‘My face is a little swollen,’ he says. ‘That’s probably from the meds but also from the illness itself. There are deposits all over.’
And he is now hopeful of a full recovery. ‘They said it would be six months before the tissue even starts to heal, and I’m sort of in that ballpark now, and noticing an enormous return of energy. So I know,’ – he leans forward and taps the lounge table – ‘touch wood, that things are getting better. I know this can be deadly, but I never gave up. I am thrilled at this reprieve and want to do as much as I can to make it better.’
As for his hair… ‘I rather like being butt naked on top. It’s a strong look!’ he says. I say it’s very fashionable – and he laughs wryly.
His enforced sequester certainly gave him plenty of time to ruminate. And, during it, he tells me softly, ‘I discovered just how very much I love my wife [celebrated photographer, Pat York]. She’s been amazing. Like a lioness. She was so proactive. She had all the questions for the doctors, and she knew the answers – she’s queen of the internet. What she did was such a powerful thing. She’s always been so positively behind me. We have a great relationship. I’ve been very, very lucky.’
‘I thought it must be some strange new form of interview technique.’ He smiles warmly, remembering. ‘We just clicked! It’s funny – it was as though we were picking up on an earlier life. Like we’d been together all the time.’
Shortly after they met, Michael had to go to India to film The Guru. ‘We stayed at the Maharajah’s palace because it was very remote and there were no hotels.’ He took Pat with him, but she became violently ill and almost died. Her life was only saved by a surgeon, who happened to be visiting, too.
‘I’d already proposed to her on Juhu Beach in Mumbai on Valentine’s Day,’ Michael recounts. ‘How corny can you get? But it just seemed right. And the timing was great. We were idyllically happy… and then just a few weeks later she was dying. I more or less carried her back to England in my arms, and we got married at Kensington Register Office on my birthday.’
On this atypical Californian afternoon, he is feeling especially vigorous and healthy. Last weekend, Michael and Pat went to a health centre to ‘clean ourselves out’.
‘I thought that the bloody chemo was awful and probably not out of my system, so I thought I’d see if I could get rid of it. The centre looks like a superannuated old folks’ home, in a place with a magical name, Lemon Grove – which is actually wall-to-wall suburbia. Not a lemon in sight.’
And did it work?
‘Oh God, yes! I could have run all the way home. It flushes everything out. And there are seminars on fruit combining and all the things we should be doing. It’s all part of the regimen so that you fill your life with wellness.’
Wellness is what Michael York is all about these days. He hasn’t wanted to talk about his illness before now because he didn’t want to focus on the downside of it – but now he can view it in terms of recovery.
We walk outside to the pool area and Michael shows me his latest acquisitions: a multitude of small orange trees. ‘I planted them,’ he says proudly. ‘Aren’t they lovely? They’ve got to get a bit bigger before they fruit.’ He has even placed a couple of shop-bought oranges among the branches, ‘to encourage them to grow’. Unfortunately, marmalade is now off the menu. ‘But I still have a jar of Frank Cooper’s, which I look at with great nostalgia,’ he says.
For the past 36 years, Michael and Pat have lived in the same charming house tucked away in the heart of the Hollywood foothills. It resembles a small French chateau, airy and spacious. ‘When we moved here in the 1970s, it wasn’t so desirable; hippies were roaming the hills. But now everyone wants to live in this neighbourhood.’
Early next month, Michael is performing (and singing) in My Fair Lady at the prestigious Kennedy Center in Washington DC. He’s hoping President Obama will attend. ‘It’s a gala, a one-night performance. Jonathan Pryce is going to play Henry Higgins, I’m Pickering, and Julie Andrews has a cameo role.’
A prolific writer (he’s written three autobiographical books), he was also one of the subjects of British Legends Of Stage And Screen (‘It’s nice, I’m now officially a legend!’). He can spout Shakespeare on demand and tell you anything you ever wanted to know about the Bard.
He even has a white marble bust of him on his mantelpiece. ‘He’s The Man,’ he enthuses. ‘He really is – whoever he was. He created our language, as did the King James Bible. He was so fertile.’
Oxford-educated Michael’s early career was spent in theatre and while at the National Theatre, under Laurence Olivier, he worked for director Franco Zeffirelli. His film career got off to an auspicious start when Zeffirelli cast him in The Taming Of The Shrew, opposite Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. Then Joseph Losey’s Accident, with Dirk Bogarde, cemented his arrival on the big screen. He’d already made his mark in television via the highly acclaimed The Forsyte Saga.
He turned down the lead role in Love Story, but films such as the cult movie Logan’s Run, The Three Musketeers and the Austin Powers trilogy enhanced his popularity. And he seems equally at home in comedy and drama – ‘I love them both. Right from the start I didn’t want to be put in a box.’
Inevitably, talk comes round to Cabaret, which, incredibly, was first released 41 years ago, and I ask Michael if he has one particular memory of the film. ‘Let me count the ways,’ he grins, boyishly. ‘It was such a pleasurable thing to do. Not everything is. Usually the ones that turn out well are torture to make. But we all loved [director] Bob Fosse – he had a vision, and he was so concentrated. And then, of course, it all happened. The Oscar, the Tony, the Grammy, all in one year, and suddenly the legend was rolling.’
Critics loved it, one of them being moved to acknowledge Michael’s ‘impossibly sexy face’. That face and his exquisite voice have put him in huge demand over the years. Indeed, during the early part of his illness, he was able to continue with his narration to the accompaniment of music. Whether an album of love poems or prayers with new-age musicians, Amadeus with Leonard Slatkin or Henry V with Sir Neville Marriner, he has always found narrating to music especially enjoyable.
He has a special fondness for the Colors Of Feelings CD he narrated, because Philip Lasser’s music and song cycle, based around four poems, encourages healing. ‘I’m very interested in healing. The CD features all these fabulous words and music and lots of healing sections with a wonderful meditation,’ he explains.
Michael’s illness has forced him to cut out some of his favourite things, including cups of good old English tea. ‘But then I discovered a world of herbal teas, and they come in all sorts of flavours. I found a wonderful one in Toronto,’ he tells me passionately. ‘It’s called Wild Sweet Orange and is a juicy, herbal infusion of orange peel, citrus, herbs, lemongrass and – wait for it – liquorice root. And it’s absolutely delicious. Everyone got mildly hooked on it.’
Including Michael: so much so that he tracked it down on the internet and ordered a case. It must taste pretty good, I say, to go to all that trouble – so he gives me a box to try for myself.
On a previous visit, I had left behind my fluffy pink and purple boa – and Michael had found it hugely amusing. ‘Having worn your scarf for the past week to great acclaim,’ he emailed me, ‘I am naturally reluctant to give it up! But I will keep it safe until you return.’
But then he has always had a great sense of humour. In a recent article about Downton Abbey, for example, he wrote, ‘It has more plots than a cemetery.’ Indeed, it is this asset – coupled with Pat – that has been his saving grace throughout his illness.
As I leave – with both my scarf and the box of Wild Sweet Orange tea – I ask him what has been the most positive e ect of his illness. ‘That, from now on, I will never take anything for granted,’ he answers with a gentle smile.
‘I’m grateful for every day I’ve been given, and I’m determined not to waste it.’
For more about amyloidosis, go to the Amyloidosis Foundation at www.amyloidosis.org
Lasser: Colors Of Feelings costs £13.45 at www.amazon.co.uk
Copyright Barbra Paskin