James Brolin and Barbra Streisand.

“Mirella Freni and Pavarotti shared the same wet nurse,” former NYC Mayor Rudolph Giuliani said last week at the Eighth Annual Opera News Awards at The Plaza, sharing a bit of opera trivia before giving the Metropolitan Opera Guild’s distinguished achievement award to the supreme Modenese soprano. “Just imagine the Freudian connotations,” hizzoner continued. “Mirella’s mother liked to say, ‘Guess who got all the milk?’”

Triggering uproarious laughter and a few gasps.

The next morning, Shindigger was still giggling at the Waldorf Astoria for the 2013 Matrix Awards, hosted by Joan Rivers, where pioneering women in media and communications such as Kara Swisher, Joanna Coles, HSN’s Mindy Grossman and Bonnie Hammer received Tiffany & Co. medallions from the likes of Barry Diller, Iman and Ryan Seacrest. Another legendary songstress, five-time Tony winner Audra McDonald, was celebrated as well.

“She has the voice of an angel,” Council Speaker Christine Quinn declared as she bestowed a Matrix on Ms. McDonald. Though it was Ms. Rivers who got in the last line—“Dessert was good, but not worth the calories!”—before hobbling off the stage.

All in all, it proved to be as much of a musical week as a comedic week for Shindigger, though, highlighted by The Film Society of Lincoln Center’s 40th anniversary Chaplin Awards Gala, which honored the epic career of Barbra Streisand and featured a mega-star-studded array of delicious surprises.

“Boy am I excited, this is such a treat!” exclaimed our first surprise, Liza Minnelli, after a standing ovation. “When I saw Barbra perform, I went nuts,” she raved. “I said Mama—it’s just unique and was splendid. She had chutzpah! The real deal!”

Grabbing the mic and a nearby director’s chair, Ms. Minnelli winced, “Now I have to sit down. My back is killing me.” And then she performed such Streisand signatures as “What Did I Have That I Don’t Have?” and “Isn’t This Better” from Funny Lady. (Ms. Streisand would quip later that she had forgotten the former was one of her songs.)

Next, former recipients Catherine Deneuve and Michael Douglas graced the stage.

“Michael and I are very pleased to give you congratulations on this well-deserved honor, and happy birthday!” the French siren purred.

“You were a master,” gushed Mr. Douglas. “It has been my joy over the years to watch you as an artist on stage, and it has been equally as meaningful to be your friend.”

One after another, immortal film stars and celebrity performers paid their respects to Empress Barbra, who sat perched with husband James Brolin in box four, first tier, on the right side of Avery Fisher Hall. George Segal, Amy Irving, Kris Kristofferson and Blythe Danner all said a few words, video felicitations came from Robert Redford and Omar Sharif, and there were musical performances by trumpeter Wynton Marsalis (“Hello Dolly”), songwriter Alan Bergman (“The Way We Were”), and a surprise finale by Tony Bennett.

“She asked me why she should do it,” Ben Stiller said drily as he recounted how he convinced the diva to take her role in Meet the Fockers. “Finally, we worked out the creative details, or as she calls it, ‘the money.’”

The funnyman then introduced his Chappaqua neighbor, who just so happens to be the 42nd president of the United States of America.

“I don’t know why, I just never got the nerve to call him up and hang,” Mr. Stiller laughed. “Hey, Bill, wanna come over and order some vegan pizza and play some video games? Watch House of Cards on Netflix?”

President Bill Clinton, taking in the crowd’s awe and rousing applause, played with the wisecrack. “Ben, I accept your offer, and pretty soon House of Cards will be back on,” the former president pledged. “Meanwhile, we can watch a replay of Meet the Fockers and see Barbra give sex advice to old people—like me!”

Awkward laughter filled the hall as the president quickly mentioned his wife, Hillary, and then continued:

“I am very grateful to The Film Society of Lincoln Center for allowing me, on its 40th anniversary, to give the Chaplin Award to my friend. A friend of my family’s and one of the most gifted and big-hearted people I have ever known.”

President Clinton commended Ms. Streisand for her film work, her philanthropic leadership and her many talents.

“When I was president, we had a small list of members of Congress that we called the ‘Just Say Yes List,’” because they were so dogged that you knew you were gonna give in to them sooner of later,” he recalled. “That’s the way Barbra is. In the end, I would say yes.”

And then it was finally time for Ms. Streisand to take the stage.

“My dear Mr. President, thank you for taking the time to be with us here tonight,” she began.

The divine Ms. Streisand spoke about the power of art in trying times and shared numerous anecdotes from her treasured past. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve been called bossy and opinionated,” Ms. Streisand admitted. “Maybe that’s because I am?”

The audience chuckled, and Ms. Streisand raised her voice: “Three cheers for bossy women!” she said.

And through the standing, roaring gala patrons, we swore we saw Mr. Clinton’s wife, in the third row, beaming.

Hsin-Mei Agnes Hsu, Younghee Kim-Wait, Karen LeFrak and Shirley Young ring in the new year

While Shindigger was giddy to celebrate the Chinese New Year last week with the New York Philharmonic at its second annual Chinese New Year Gala, not everyone was excited to ring in the Year of the Snake. Take Joan Rivers, for example. “I’m fucking angry, because they make a lot of our jewelry for QVC,” Ms. Rivers cackled at us as we left Dennis Basso’s 30th anniversary runway show. “So get back to work, guys ... Make that happy New Year. Now get fucking back to work!”

Perhaps Ms. Rivers just didn’t receive her invite. Because those who did showed up in high style. Angela Chen, one of the gala co-chairs, wore a dazzling sequined Armani gown that attracted Shindigger immediately to her side as she glided around Avery Fisher Hall’s promenade.

“I think the red color is very important for Chinese New Year,” she told us.

We hoisted a glass of bubbly to our lips in chromatic agreement but wondered: wasn’t she nervous about competing with the Fashion Week festivities that were still raging across Josie Robertson Plaza?

“This week, I can enjoy both,” Ms. Chen replied.

Taking off to replenish our glass, we ran into Karen LeFrak, board member and Special Events Committee chairman for the Philharmonic, who had embellished her black gown with some serious Chinese-inspired bling.

Of her floral cluster white-diamond earrings, la grande dame said, “My mother-in-law [Ethel Stone] is ill, and she had given them to me, and it’s kind of a spiritual wish for her to get well. You know, kind of a superstitious feeling of good luck for everyone.”

With that warm sentiment in our head, we headed again toward the bar, where Ambassador Sun Guoxiang and Madam Wang Min, Chiu-Ti Jansen and billionaire Wilbur Ross were hovering.

As we reached that boozy pot of gold, we also had the good fortune to run into the vivacious Shirley Young, another gala co-chair, who was decked out in a handsome Chinese silk brocade evening jacket with fur collar and a titanic-sized smile.

Was she excited for the Year of the Snake? Shindigger asked.

“Chinese women don’t have any problem with the snake,” Ms. Young said with a wink, going on to tell us about a fairy tale called “White Snake.” “In just a few minutes, you will see the dragon and Madame White Snake, which is a fable about a person from the other world who falls in love with a human being—she’s actually a snake.”

Which sounded eerily similar to Shindigger’s last relationship!

Reaching for another glass of champagne then, we stumbled into Gary Parr, deputy chairman of Lazard Frères and essentially the fairy godfather of the Philharmonic (officially known as chairman and gala co-chair).

“There’s really going to be a great mix of music, East and West, tonight,” said the Tuxedo Park resident, dressed in a custom-made blood-red silk brocade jacket. But just as he began to elaborate on details of the concert, the room was invaded by the Nai-Ni Chen Dance Company, which paid homage to “The Legend of Madame White Snake.”

Afterward, we enjoyed a final cocktail with British businesswoman and socialite Ghislaine Maxwell.

Ms. Maxwell, like Ms. LeFrak, is a proud owner of AKC-registered pooches, and her 3-year-old dog, Captain Nemo (named after the Jules Verne character, not the storm), had just competed to moderate success at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show.

“He was in the last six, but you know, there’s always next year,” she said.

Fashion! New Year’s celebrations! Fancy dog awards! How on earth did this dreadful month of February get so crowded?

The question hung in our mind like a Zen koan.

But no time to think. Moments later, we were wedged into our seats for the concert, which was marvelous. Under the baton of Long Yu, the performance highlights included jazz pianist Herbie Hancock, Peking Opera star Yan Wang and the Snow Lotus Trio, a folk ensemble.

Feeling as though we had maxed out our culture quota for the evening, Shindigger passed on the gala dinner and elected to venture over to arguably one of the best party venues in the entire city: the iconic Lever House on Park Avenue.

Inside, fashion demigod Carine Roitfeld was hosting a Veuve Clicquot- and Belvedere-fueled bash for the second issue of her glossy rag, CR Fashion Book. Shindigger pulled up and quickly eyed our favorite KCD publicist, Hallie Chrisman, at the door, and we knew we were in good hands.

“I like the idea of having a party uptown,” Ms. Roitfeld told Shindigger in a corner of the front bar. “I like the Warhols [on the walls], and it’s a great place for lunch.”

As trays of gourmet prosciutto di Parma, ratatouille crostini, saffron risotto and seared tuna whizzed by, DJ Nick Cohen spun remixes of Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls” and Chic’s “I Want Your Love.” We passed on most of the nibbles, enjoying friendly pours of champagne. Thankfully, the service was anything but Parisian and our glasses were refilled before ever reaching half-empty (or is it half-full?).

“I’m very proud to be here and celebrate this with my mom and my sister and the rest of the party,” said Vladimir Restoin Roitfeld in his charming French accent. And it turned out that he too had enjoyed some Chinese New Year festivities. “We had Chinese dinner last night,” he said. “I like to go to Shun Lee Palace.”

As the deejay was swapped out for a lively Latin band sometime after 11 p.m., designer Olivier Theyskens, fashionista Anna Dello Russo, model Karlie Kloss and Ms. Roitfeld swarmed the dance floor.

Shindigger, unwilling to be a lonesome wallflower and miss the excitement, dove right in, taking our old pal Joan Rivers’s advice to heart. We would enjoy a happy New Year. And then we would get back to fucking work—tomorrow.

What is that like?

The New York Times profiled Rivers in this capacity, so we now know:

Not very funny ("There's no humor when I'm there").

And not likely to change, as she's been the mostly uncontested president of the building's board for nine years (unless she sells her apartment, which has been on the market for three years, at $29.5M).

But she does apparently get that which needs to be done, done. Even if it means bringing in a Jewish voodoo priestess:

Ms. Rivers counts among her proudest board achievements sprucing up the lobby. When she moved in, she explained, its furniture consisted of a card table and an old desk chair. As a neighbor, she said, her most substantial contribution to the building came about 20 years ago, when she brought in a voodoo priestess named Sallie Ann Glassman to clear out a ghost. "God bless her," Ms. Rivers said. "A Jewish voodoo priestess."

Also, the Times had to issue one of the better corrections of late in this piece:

An earlier version of this article misspelled the given name of a voodoo priestess. She is Sallie Ann Glassman, not Sally Ann.

And now you know: Addressing building problems with Joan Rivers isn't quite the blast that Fashion Police is. But at least they get addressed.

For Comedian, Role on Condo Board Is a Serious Matter [NYT]

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

The now-dead Libyan dictator was never able to call the Upper East Side townhouse home after being rebuffed by broker Jason Haber in 2009, but the extravagant space is now back on the market as a $30,000 per month rental.

But don't let the apartment's near run-in with a repressive regime dissuade you. It's no wonder Qaddafi took a a liking to this place!

Located in the Beaux-Arts Barclay Mansion, the interiors exude opulence, with parquet floors, gold accents, ornate moldings, fireplaces, a Juliet balcony and gigantic, built-in mirrors—in short, it looks fit for a king, monarch or brutal overlord likely to be violently deposed.

Mr. Haber, who started socially-conscious real estate firm Rubicon Property after Qaddafi's entourage pressed him to rent the sprawling 3-bedroom, 6-bathroom space in September 2009, refused to work with Qaddafi unless, he said, the dictator agreed to send convicted Lockerbie bomber Abdel Baset Al-Megrahi back to prison.

"It was first time I was approached by a totalitarian regime," said Mr. Haber, adding that Qaddafi's assistants played up the fact that the leader needed a place to stay while he spoke about peace to the U.N.

Apparently, the dictator also took a liking to Joan Rivers' apartment, decorated in a decadent style that the comedian has described as "how Marie Antoinette would have live if she had had money." The Libyan leader allegedly called her broker and offered to rent the place for $200,000 a week.

The last time this sprawling triplex hit the rental market at $28,000, there was strong interest from the famous and infamous, Mr. Haber told the Observer. The current resident, a prominent art dealer who was paying a little under the ask, is leaving in May. Now the market's much more robust, and Mr. Huber is looking for residents who can pay the $30,000 a month rent (as long as it's by honest means).

Would the apartment's appeal to a dictator turn some off?

"It just shows that it's a worldly apartment that's very desirable," said Mr. Haber. "But who knows who'll come to look at it this time."

kvelsey@observer.com

New York fashion week has finally come to a close. Amen! For those less-fortunate editors and fashion authorities (or perhaps we are the lucky ones) that have not jetted off to London or Milan, we finally get a moment to recover.

In retrospect, we relished the young talents of Prabal Gurung and Jason Wu. The Observer will never forget the spectacle and grandeur of Alexander Wang—or the impeccable quality of Simon Spurr’s suiting. With such a busy social schedule and so many shows, it’s hard to remember all the garments we evaluated with a careful eye.

We’re still a smidgen bitter about a few mishaps with Oscar de la Renta and PR Consulting… but we forgive easily… Oscar might possibly have been the best women’s collection in town! Best of luck obtaining the financial means to swing the $15,000 price tag...

One thing we do recall in our hazy fatigue, is the undeniable fact that fur is back. Yes, yes it never really left! But honestly!

"It's so glamorous and luxe!" proclaimed Joan Rivers about fur, backstage at Dennis Basso.

Perhaps Ms. Rivers is in the right. Has there ever been so much mink, chinchilla, fox, raccoon, coyote, goat, rabbit, astrakhan, Mongolian lamb, ermine and sable shown in New York? Probably… but let’s peruse The Oberserver’s favorites— shall we?

Images: GETTY and Patrick McMullan.

Prospective buyers with even one iota of taste, however, know that this place needs to be gut renovated: the leopard-print carpets rolled up and burned, the gaudy gilded moldings stripped to evoke something less.... Joan Riversy. Like Ms. Rivers herself, we think this place needs something quite the opposite of a facelift.

As co-directed by acclaimed documentarians Rikki Stern and Anne Sundberg, A Piece of Work is confident in its quality from minute one: A very up-close-and-personal montage of Ms. Rivers getting her incredibly large amounts of makeup applied (as she joked in the Q&A following the film, after seeing that the prospects of her getting a date again are slight). And while nothing that follows breaks new ground—it's your basic rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches story—the film is so tightly constructed that you don't actually care. Besides, even at her advanced age, Ms. Rivers is still completely hysterical, politically incorrect and an astute observer of human interaction and nature. Simply in that regard, A Piece of Work succeeds. It's the funniest movie thus far in 2010.

What does surprise, however, is Ms. Rivers' complete lack of character vanity. She might be dressed to the nines and covered in pounds of make-up (not to mention all that plastic surgery), but at her core is still an insecure raw nerve, still smarting over the bad reviews she got from New York stage critics thirty years ago. Ms. Rivers is self-deprecating about her late-career malaise—where something like beating the Z-list "stars" on Celebrity Apprentice qualifies as major—but there's a fear and sadness in her voice that belies the tough exterior. At first it seems almost fake—as Ms. Rivers said, she's been playing "Joan Rivers" since the 1960s. But by the time the documentary is over, you realize that even if she is still playing a part, it consumed her long ago. She knows this is her last act, but she simply refuses to go down without a fight.

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"My husband [producer Edgar Rosenberg] had just committed suicide and the first time I was going to come out in public was a Vanity Fair party out in California," said Ms. Rivers from Las Vegas, where she is performing at the Venetian. "I didn't want to walk in alone so I called Dominick and I said, 'Would you take me to the party and would you stay with me the whole night?' And he said, 'Absolutely, I'll be at your side.'"

Mr. Dunne stayed with Ms. Rivers the entire evening and even drove her home at the end. "About two weeks later I found the invitation and realized he was the host of the party! But he never said anything about it being an incovenience. He just did what he had to do for me and I never forgot that. He never mentioned, 'By the way, I'm the host, I can't, you dumb woman!'"

Ms. Rivers and Mr. Dunne used to know the same people and occasionally ended up at the same dinner parties at the homes of socialites Blaine Trump and Betsy Bloomingdale. She remembers them keeping the company of actors Laurence Olivier and later, at her own parties, Phyllis Newman, Charles Busch, and Cher when she was in town.

"He was a great star at a dinner party because you knew that Dominick was going to sit there and talk to you and have opinions. He always had stories to tell," recalled Ms. Rivers. "If you were seated next to Dominick at a dinner party, you knew you were lucky. I remember at Betsy Bloomingdale's when there were 24 people at a table and Dominick would start to tell a story and everyone stopped and listened. He was very smart, so if he said someone was clever, you knew that they were clever, and if he said someone was an idiot, you knew they were an idiot."

In the 90s, Mr. Dunne was often invited to Passover Seders at Ms. Rivers Fifth Avenue penthouse. This was around the time of the O. J. Simpson trial and it was the subject he liked discussing most.

"He was one of the first to come out and say, 'This is ridiculous.' I think everyone really adored him for this because he really became the voice of the public during that trial," she said. "He really read people brilliantly. He was quick and he got it, whatever that means, and he knew bullshit from the real thing."

Through his coverage of various trials, Mr. Dunne made some enemies, according to Ms. Rivers, especially during the trials of people that may have been friends of friends, like William Kennedy Smith and Lily Safra.

"I know Lily and I actually think Dominick got that one wrong, but he believes totally in what he says," said Ms. Rivers. "It's the only argument we ever had."

Mr. Dunne least enjoyed discussing the trial of his daughter's killer, which he wrote about for Vanity Fair in a 1984 piece titled “Justice: A Father’s Account of the Trial of His Daughter’s Killer."

"Sometimes someone would come over and say, 'I understand the guy is out now,' and he would say 'Yes! Son of a bitch is out.' And then he would change the subject." (John Sweeney, his daughter's ex-boyfriend, was found guilty only of voluntary manslaughter and a misdemeanor and served less than three years.)

Mr. Dunne's appearance was also something that stood out for Ms. Rivers. "He always looked like an unmade bed," she said. "He was always rumpled and he always looked like what he was, which was a writer. You could never call him spiffy."

Ms. Rivers ran into Mr. Dunne on the street about eight weeks ago, on East 62nd between Madison and Park. He was coming one way; she going another. They talked about his TV show on Court TV (now TruTV), but not his health, though he did not look well, Ms. Rivers said. She asked him how the show was going. He told her he got renewed for another season. 

"I love every minute of it," he told her. "And they're paying me very well."

"What I adored about him was that he loved being on television," Ms. Rivers said. Someone walking by said to Mr. Dunne, "Love your program! Love you!"

He seemed to enjoy this. "He loved being stopped on the street at a time when he was fighting cancer and he was going through such bad months in his private life and walking on his way to chemo."

They talked about getting together soon sometime. Very soon. It had been so long. Perhaps in Connecticut, where they both have homes.

"I'll call you," he said.

“This is what Marie Antoinette would have had if she had taste,” is how Joan Rivers described the Versailles-inspired décor of her East 62nd penthouse as she stood under the ballroom ceiling, which was painted a light blue with white clouds, on Monday, Aug. 3. “All comedians are very strange, and I love 18th-century France.”

Ms. Rivers does not remember exactly how much she paid for her duplex 20 years ago, but she knows it wasn’t much. “When I first walked in, the roof was broken and a pigeon was flying around,” she said. In June, Ms. Rivers put the apartment on the market for $25 million. She will be relocating to the West Coast to be closer to her daughter, Melissa, and grandson, Edgar. “I’m looking for a rich Russian, and we’re not arguing price,” she said. “You can’t afford it, don’t buy it.”

Wearing a black pantsuit and low-hung pearls and draped in a dark purple, floor-length cardigan, Ms. Rivers, 76, was celebrating her new show on TV Land called How’d You Get So Rich?, premiering on Aug. 5. A man was playing show tunes on a piano covered in photos of Prince Charles, Camilla Parker-Bowles and Liza Minnelli.

“You see that guy over there? He started mowing lawns at 7 years old and bought the competition out at 8!”” said Ms. Rivers, pointing to a heavy-set gentleman in a shiny blue shirt and blazer. She stuck out her finger again in the opposite direction. “There is a woman over there, 49 years old, her husband left her, she never worked a day in her life. She went to makeup school and now sells camouflage makeup to armies all over the world!”

Ms. Rivers was interrupted by a photographer eager to snap her with NBC anchor Hoda Kotb and The View’s Joy Behar. Then a curvy woman in a yellow leopard-print dress and burgundy hair approached.

“We met on Rodeo Drive!” said Ms. Rivers of the woman, named Eve Michaels, an image consultant in Beverly Hills who appears on the show. “She looked so rich so I said, ‘You look rich, what do you do?’”

“I’ve loved Joan since I was a little girl,” Ms. Michaels said. “On her show, she’d always say, ‘You have to shave from your ankle to your chin,’ and that really made an impression on me.”

Standing nearby was another of Ms. Rivers’ discoveries, Jonah White, 39, from Illinois. Mr. White owns a company, billybobproducts.com, that sells crooked, dingy novelty teeth. “I’ve sold 15 million of these,” he said. Much like her show’s subjects, Ms. Rivers was considered new money some time ago. “When I moved here, someone slipped a note under my door saying, ‘We don’t want you or your Vegas money,’” she said. These days, Ms. Rivers is the president of the building’s board. (She was rumored to have prevented the late Susanna Agnelli, of the Italian family that founded the automobile company Fiat, from buying a second apartment in the building.)

If you ask Ms. Rivers how she got so rich, she will tell you about her 50-odd years doing stand-up, acting, writing books, judging red-carpet looks, hosting talk shows and selling jewelry on QVC. She will publish two more books in the next year and put on a show in London.

“Cher said something very smart to me over dinner recently,” said Ms. Rivers, contemplating all of this. “She said, ‘We’re performers, we perform.’”