
Alan Bergman, Oscar-winning ‘The Way We Were' and ‘The Windmills of Your Mind' lyricist, dies at 99
Bergman died late Thursday evening in his home in Los Angeles, family spokesperson Ken Sunshine confirmed in a statement to The Times on Friday. The songwriter 'suffered from respiratory issues' in recent months but remained steadfast in his songwriting 'till the very end.'
A Brooklyn native, Bergman was best known for his collaborations with his wife, Marilyn, which spanned music, television and film. The husband and wife, after meeting through composer Lew Spence, married in 1958. Together, they penned music for a variety of high-profile acts including Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Quincy Jones, John Williams and Barbra Streisand, with the last eventually becoming the couple's muse.
The Bergmans were three-time Oscar winners. The couple won their first Oscar in 1969 for the moody 'Windmills of Your Mind,' featured in 'The Thomas Crown Affair,' shared with French composer Michel Legrand. Their second and third Oscar wins stemmed from works with Streisand: the title song from 'The Way We Were' in 1974 (shared with Marvin Hamlisch) and in 1984 for the score of 'Yentl,' shared with Legrand.
The composers and their work were consistent contenders at the Oscars, with their contributions to films 'The Happy Ending,' 'Tootsie,' 'Yes, Giorgio' and the 1995 remake of Billy Wilder's 'Sabrina' also receiving nominations from the academy. On the small screen, the Bergmans left their personal touch on numerous TV series from the 1970s to the 1990s, providing the theme music for shows including 'Good Times,' 'Alice,' 'In the Heat of the Night' and Norman Lear's 'Maude.'
In addition to Oscars, the Bergmans also won four Emmys, two Golden Globes and two Grammys, including the song of the year award for 'The Way We Were.'
Alan Bergman, born Sept. 11, 1925 in Brooklyn, was a son of a salesman and knew from an early age that songwriting was his passion. He graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and pursued his graduate studies in music at UCLA. He briefly worked as a television director for Philadelphia station WCAU-TV but returned to Los Angeles to fully pursue songwriting, at the behest of mentor Johnny Mercer.
Alan and Marilyn Bergman are members of the Songwriters Hall of Fame, which awarded the duo its Johnny Mercer Award in 1997. They also received the Grammy Trustee Award for lifetime achievement, the National Academy of Songwriters Lifetime Achievement Award, the National Music Publishers Assn. Lifetime Achievement Award and honorary doctorates from Berklee College of Music and the University of Massachusetts. In 2011, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill honored Bergman with a distinguished alumnus award.
Marilyn Bergman died in January 2022 of respiratory failure at 93. After her death, Alan continued working, most recently collaborating with jazz guitarist Pat Metheny, who will record his nine songs co-written with Bergman later this year for an upcoming album.
Alan Bergman is survived by his daughter Julie Bergman and granddaughter Emily Sender. He will be laid to rest at a private graveside burial. Ruth Price's Jazz Bakery announced earlier this month it would celebrate Bergman's 100th birthday with a tribute concert at Santa Monica's Broad Stage in September. The performance will go on as planned, The Times has learned.
The family ask that donations be made in Bergman's name to the ASCAP Foundation Alan and Marilyn Bergman Lyric Award and the Johnny Mercer Foundation.
Times pop music critic Mikael Wood contributed to this report.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Chicago Tribune
12 minutes ago
- Chicago Tribune
Editorial: Lucas museum amps up. The LA excitement could have been happening in Chicago.
Ever since Chicago spurned the Lucas museum, which would have been funded by at least $800 million in philanthropic investments from 'Star Wars' icon George Lucas and his wife, Mellody Hobson, a Chicago native, city snobs have pushed two narratives: one that the museum would never get built and another that it would not be any good if and when it did. Both of them are proving to be nonsense, as was obvious to us from the start. Back in 2016, Chicago lost a fully funded cultural attraction that would have drawn attention and visitors from all over the world. This was a Midwestern mistake for the ages. On Sunday, Lucas showed up for the first time ever at Comic-Con in San Diego to get people excited about the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art. (Did we mention this could have been in Chicago?) He appeared alongside Oscar winners Guillermo del Toro and Doug Chiang on a panel hosted by Oscar nominee Queen Latifah. Do you routinely see such folks strolling down Michigan Avenue? Not since Oprah Winfrey left, you don't. Samuel L. Jackson narrated the 'sizzle reel,' promoting the museum. To say the Lucas appearance was a hot ticket is to understate. What will be in the 300,000-square-foot museum once it opens on its 11-acre campus in Los Angeles' Exposition Park next year? Paintings by Frida Kahlo, Maxfield Parrish, Kara Lewis and Norman Rockwell, comic book art from R. Crumb and Jack Kirby, original Peanuts and Flash Gordon comic strips, a fresco panel by Diego Rivera, illustrations by E.H. Shepard for 'The House at Pooh Corner.' The comic book covers that introduced Iron Man and Flash Gordon. Concept art from 'Indiana Jones.' A life-sized Naboo starfighter. That's just a taste. There will be, to say the least, a lot of interest in all those things. Chicago failed to understand what Lucas meant by 'narrative art.' But it's really not hard: his museum will be made up of the art to which people feel emotional connections and which forms much of the basis of our shared culture. The Lucas museum will be distinct from traditional art museums and will draw accordingly. Del Toro said Sunday that he, too, will likely deposit his own formidable collection of populist narrative art within the museum. Lucas called his decade-long endeavor 'a temple to the people's art.' The people's art. Chicago would have been its natural home. The dithering and naysaying that these days seems to come with doing anything substantial in this town lost us a potential jewel. What a colossal missed opportunity.


Los Angeles Times
12 minutes ago
- Los Angeles Times
A new iteration of Taco María opens, in an unlikely place
Carlos Salgado wowed the world of Mexican food the moment he opened Taco María in 2013. His marriage of high-end with homestyle — sturgeon tacos, Flamin' Hot chicharrones, handmade blue corn tortillas from kernels he imported from Mexico and milled himself — seemed better suited to Los Angeles or Mexico City than a hipster food hall in Costa Mesa. The accolades came quickly: L.A Times restaurant of the year in 2018. Four straight Michelin stars. One of Esquire's most important U.S. restaurants of the 2010s. Salgado was a Best Chef in California finalist for the James Beard Awards — the Oscars of the restaurant industry — in June 2023. A month later, Salgado shocked his fans by closing Taco María. As his good friend, I have the exclusive on what's next. It's … Wisconsin? A few months after the restaurant closed, Salgada relocated to Door County — the childhood home of his wife, Emilie Coulson Salgado — in a move that left Southern California's food scene befuddled, if people knew at all. If anyone deserved to go all 'Walden,' it was the thoughtful Salgado. He had worked nonstop for a decade, weathering the pandemic and an Orange County audience that usually got mad when he explained why his space didn't serve chips and salsa or had 'Black Lives Matter' stenciled on the patio window. Taco María's lease was up, the location was never the best fit and Carlos and Emilie wanted to spend more time with their two young children and her parents while they recharged and decided what was next. Now, after some time off, they're in the restaurant business again, opening La Sirena this month in Ephraim, population 345, about an hour and a half away from the nearest big city, Green Bay. Expect everything that made Taco María so incredible — a prix fixe menu, a focus on local produce and meat, those fabulous blue corn tortillas that taste like a time portal to Tenochtitlan — except on the shores of Lake Michigan instead of off the 405 freeway. Nothing against the Badger State, but the idea of a Mexican chef of Salgado's caliber setting up on a peninsula jutting into a Great Lake is like Shohei Ohtani announcing he's leaving the Dodgers to join a Sunday beer league. Gustavo Dudamel deciding his next gig isn't the New York Philharmonic but the Whittier Regional Symphony. Gov. Gavin Newsom forsaking his office to run the Friends of the Sacramento Public Library. About 8% of Wisconsin's population is Latino, and Door County is 96% white. The Mexican food scene outside Milwaukee and maybe Racine is still mostly combo plates washed down with massive margaritas, or cartoonishly big burritos in the Chipotle model. Wisconsin is ... Wisconsin, land of cheese curds and brats and brandy Old Fashioneds. 'I would push back that [Mexican food] is out of place anywhere in the United States,' Salgado told me by phone last week. 'We are the foundation of the restaurant and hospitality industry, farming and construction — I don't need to say all the ways we're embedded.' He sure shut me up there! Besides, I'm proud that his and Emilie's next step is in an isolated spot in a state that went for Donald Trump in two of the past three elections. California needs all the ambassadors we can get, especially in places that don't look like us — and we can't get better ambassadors than them. 'In parts of the Midwest, you mention you're from California, there's inevitably haters who want to believe that we left California because it's a failed state, and they try to commiserate with us about how California is uninhabitable,' the 45-year-old Salgado said. 'Of course, I don't believe that. I have pangs of longing for my home state every day, especially fruits!' 'I actually thought we'd live in California forever, and I still consider us California people,' Coulson Salgado, 41, said in a separate interview. 'But this experiment to be here [Wisconsin] turned out to be really good for us and our children.' The two met in San Francisco in 2008, when Coulson Salgado was working for a literacy nonprofit and Salgado was a pastry chef at a high-end restaurant. He moved back to his native Orange County in 2011 aiming to help with his immigrant family's Cal-Mex restaurant in Orange. Instead, he capitalized on the era's food truck craze and opened Taco María. Coulson moved down in 2013 to help transition the luxe lonchera to a brick-and-mortar, eventually becoming the restaurant's general manager and beverage director, roles she will also assume at La Sirena. Taco María was a daily miracle, especially given its Orange County location. Salgado got nationwide media coverage and forced Angelenos to do the unimaginable: travel to O.C. for Mexican food. His exhortations for people to value Mexican cuisine and the people who make it was essential in an era where too many Americans love the former and loathe the latter. But the grind of running a restaurant — which I know too well, through my wife — wore on the couple. They didn't want to be rushed into opening a new Taco María, so they decided a sojourn to Door County would be fun and also right. 'Emilie put in 15 years with me in California,' Salgado said, and moving to Wisconsin 'was something we felt we deserved as a family.' He unwound from the restaurant rush by hiking through Door County's forests and fishing in its waterways while continuing Taco María's successful salsa macha mail-order business; Emilie moonlighted as a grant writer. The plan was to return to California sometime in 2024 and hop back on the restaurant hamster wheel. But the more they experienced Door County's slower pace of life, the more they realized it would be nearly impossible to replicate that in Southern California. 'We started Taco María without kids,' Salgado said. 'This trial gave us the opportunity to imagine the kind of balance that we wanted, and we realized that we stood a very good chance of creating it here.' I asked if he meant the cost of living or the sclerotic traffic or the lack of affordable housing or any of the other reasons California quitters give when they leave and whine about their move. 'We're certainly not California quitters,' Salgado deadpanned. 'People talk all the time about making career changes to spend more time with their families, and this is really it for now.' Coulson Salgado said it's been 'wonderful' to return to where she grew up 'with the eyes of an adult.' Door County has seen newcomers from California in recent years, mostly young families drawn by its immaculate landscapes. She does miss the multiculturalism of Southern California — 'My son will say, 'Let's get pho!' and I have to remind him we're not in Orange County anymore,' she said with a laugh. She doesn't frame the opening of La Sirena in the rural Midwest in the age of Trump as a political act. But she brought up the 'terrible' deportation deluge that has hit Southern California this summer (Wisconsin has so far been spared, 'but we're on high alert for it') as a reason why their presence matters. 'It's not like we're in some alternate universe out here,' she said, 'but you could be if you weren't paying attention, and that's what's scary … But that's why it's more important than ever to create more pockets of joy.' Her husband vowed that California 'hasn't seen the last of us yet,' while giving no timeline for a return. In an ideal world, he and Emilie would run both La Sirena and a restaurant back in O.C. 'I'm proudly Mexican American,' Salgado said. 'And I'm not going to shy away from taking up space and perform brown excellence in anywhere that I am.'


Los Angeles Times
12 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Their tiny L.A. apartment is an absolute explosion of color
Isa Beniston and Scotty Zaletel are romantics. Not just in their love for one another, which they are as vocal about three years in as budding high school crushes, but also in the way they describe the contents of their 412-square-foot one-bedroom apartment. They can recall the season they discovered each treasure — from fruit-shaped throw pillows to more than 30 animal portraits — and the cross streets of the flea markets from which they bought them. They gush about the time they've spent together in fabric stores and flooring supply shops as if they were dimly lit restaurants primed for date night. Beniston, 32, moved into the apartment in 2014 following a stint in West Hollywood after graduating from UCLA. When she saw a wall of large vintage windows during her first visit to the stucco building in Eagle Rock, she knew she had to take the Craigslist find, for which she now pays $1,461 monthly. It wasn't until she signed the lease that she discovered it was rent-controlled, increasing annually by 3%, a perk that has kept her there for more than a decade. When the landlord approached her to have a contractor assess the work needed to replace the windows with smaller, modern ones that wouldn't leak, she declined. To her, the natural light is worth the occasional indoor rainfall. Beniston, who works as an artist running Gentle Thrills, her brand of paper goods and quirky gifts, met her match in Zaletel, a prop fabricator. For the crafty couple, home renovations are their love language. So much so that covering the kitchen tile with blue and red checkerboard linoleum was one of their first dates in 2022, two years before Zaletel, 32, moved in. 'She was cooking dinner, and I didn't know what to do with my hands,' said Zaletel. The flooring came from Linoleum City in East Hollywood, which Beniston called 'the most fun historic shop in L.A.' Before meeting Zaletel, Beniston discovered that her style wasn't for everyone. 'It's such an important litmus test for me. People would come over and be like, 'uhh,'' she said of previous dates. For Zaletel, her style was inviting rather than intimidating. 'We both just love stuff,' the two said in near-unison. They merged their art collections, focused on 'not too good, not too bad' animal paintings, mostly found secondhand, with a few pieces by Zaletel of a crocodile and of their actual dogs, mutt Pippen and chihuahua mix Goose. Beniston doesn't like to display her own illustrations at home. When asked about a time when they didn't agree on a thrift find or potential home project, after a few minutes of consideration, Zaletel suggested an Anna Nicole Smith bobblehead, which is out of sight on a high shelf. 'No, I love her,' Beniston retorted. Their eyes lit up as they gave a final — nearly unbelievable, if you haven't witnessed their dynamic — answer: never. 'I trust Isa's taste implicitly,' Zaletel said. 'I feel like it's an indicator of the happiness and health of our relationship, how nice we are to each other about our stuff,' Beniston replied. Optimizing storage while maintaining character has been their priority. The result? A breakfast nook in a previously unused kitchen corner, a hanging pot holder on the kitchen ceiling, a retro pullout ironing board converted into a spice rack, and a handmade purse rack and sweater shelf in the bedroom. They still make time for novelty projects like the scale model of the grandfather clock that Zaletel inherited from his family that sits atop the actual grandfather clock in the living room. Strategic or silly, the projects bring the two closer. Zaletel handles works that require cutting, drilling and installing, while Beniston focuses on painting and sewing. Amid the COVID-19 stay-at-home orders, she painted a mural on a hallway wall that extends into a fabric panel full of flowers and kooky animal motifs reminiscent of her work for Gentle Thrills. The kitchen windows are adorned with curtains made from quilts found at the Pasadena City College flea market and fabric from Remainders, a Pasadena craft store. While the couple continually emphasized their gratitude for the closet space they do have (one in the hallway and one in the bedroom), they admitted they keep from stepping on each other's toes in such a small space by renting a studio work space a few blocks away. They store additional clothing and art pieces there and have a washing machine and dryer set up. The couple has a shared goal of home ownership but want to avoid leaving their rent-controlled apartment until it's time to buy, even if it means tolerating an aging stairway to enter the apartment. 'When we moved in together we were like, OK, we'll just put aside what we would have been paying for our separate spaces, and we kind of did the spreadsheet and made a plan. Still gonna be five-plus years, but we have a plan,' Zaletel said. 'More like five to 10 years,' Beniston corrected. Their optimism and enthusiasm wane only slightly when they address the possibility that by then, they may be entirely priced out. Eagle Rock homes, after all, have a median list price of $1.3 million, according to Zillow. 'No matter what, we'll have that money saved, whether we're gonna rent a house or buy,' Zalatel said. 'We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.'