Light Up The Sky

At the CAPA '80s decade reunion, everyone was a star.

by A.D. Amorosi

REUNITED: Natasha Hulme (right) at the CAPA reunion at Transit. : Irina Zhorov (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

Reuniting never felt as good as it did last Saturday.

There was South Philadelphia High School's 100th anniversary at their Broad and Snyder parking lot where graduate Charlie Gracie sang and rattled off the names of fellow alumni Eddie Fisher, Chubby Checker and Al Martino. As we drove, South Philly High's Alfonso Amorosi laughed about the adage.

"Al Alberts, all those guys," said my father. "Love 'em. Leave 'em. That's something, right?"

Alfonso drove quickly past the reunion. Not his scene. He was busy dropping me off at the 30th reunion of the Philadelphia High School for Creative and Performing Arts — CAPA — the magnet school attended by Boyz II Men and members of Bardo Pond; Bilal Oliver, Ahmir Khalib "?uestlove" Thompson and Tariq Trotter, too; jazz cats Christian McBride and Joey DeFrancesco; opera and gospel divas Karen Slack and Tamika Patton; screenwriter Angela Nissel; and actors Karen Malina White and Mark Webber.

Webber's in town shooting Explicit Ills with Trotter, who, with Thompson, forms the core of the Roots. Bardo's in town preparing to play behind Can's Damo Suzuki. This reunion of CAPA's best and brightest at Transit would be a celebutante clusterfuck.

But you find in the minds of those attending the reunion that every CAPA grad's a star, especially those great grads who made up the first graduating classes of the 1980s that this "'80s Decade Reunion" celebrates.

"Mr. Ballantine, our alumni adviser — that's what he called us," says Theresa Casper-Nelson. "His great grads." (Every CAPA grad calls every teacher by their last name, still.)

Class of '87 vocal department grad Casper-Nelson is a Pennsylvania event planner. Along with Class of '88 vocal department grad Natasha Hulme of Black Banana and Pure bartending/hosting acclaim, the two did what no one else could: throw a reunion for the kids who huddled into the school's first few locations.

Mr. Ballantine couldn't get a reunion together. CAPA couldn't get a reunion together.

"I know from my time there, things were not done conventionally," laughs Hulme. She's talking about the controversy of what anniversary to celebrate. "Dr. Vannoni, our paternal principal, was appointed to CAPA in 1977," says Hulme of the school's conception. In 1978, it opened with 250 students on three floors at a Broad and Spruce office building. By 1980, the school moved to Bartlett Junior High's building at 11th and Catharine where it shared space with Palumbo Elementary School. By 1997, the new CAPA for 650 students opened at the ex-Ridgway Library on Broad between Christian and Carpenter. The old Catharine Street CAPA is a Police Athletic League office now.

"We figured we'd have something for the first graduating classes to start — call it a 30th anniversary party but focus on the '80s for a theme," says Hulme, who started on the project after she heard Casper-Nelson had been trying since January.

After Ballantine's Christmas/Hanukkah 2006 e-mail with 300 CC'd names — and scores of recipients hitting "reply all" — Casper-Nelson decided two things. "One was that Mr. Ballantine had to learn to blind-copy. Two: People had the same story. They wanted to reunite, but didn't want to organize it."

: Irina Zhorov (CLICK IMAGES FOR LARGER VERSION)

Casper-Nelson and Hulme reacquainted via e-mail, hit MySpace ("Reunion.com sucks," says Hulme) and the next thing you know, Hulme is sending DJ Reenie Kane a five-page '80s request list including Kajagoogoo and Culture Club, but sadly no Blow Monkeys or Associates.

"Oh, there'll be drama," says Kane, before spinning not only hits but karaoke mixes of songs Hulme, Casper-Nelson and others would perform.

Boyz II Men did not show, so no Boyz II Men songs were played, though the program had lyrics to "One Sweet Day" printed in memoriam to grads deceased. One anonymous Class of '88 grad knew the quartet had been invited but declined, as did Webber, Nissel and the Roots. "I hear Boyz is playing the Poconos," he said. "Guess things aren't so sweet."

"Everybody is a star here in their own right — honestly," says Casper-Nelson, pointing out CAPA grads who made their names in behind-the-scenes fashion — producers, photographers. "Everyone at CAPA shines bright."

Lovely Class of '87 grad Isobel Sollenberger of Bardo Pond was there. "I think my classmates liked me," says Sollenberger. "If they didn't, they didn't tell me." The music major who painted and sculpted during her CAPA tenure had to trolley from Germantown throughout her four-year stint. "If CAPA didn't offer me total freedom, I don't know if I'd be doing exactly what I do now."

Sollenberger looks like she did in high school. So does Class of '86 dance major Orlando Rodriguez. "My face didn't change, but my clothes did," laughs Rodriguez as he pulls out his badge — Air Force Office of Special Investigations. "Dance? I use that when I interrogate people."

Taleese Carson — Class of '85 dance major — hasn't changed, according to husband Raymond Ponzo. "I was the teacher's pet; so much so, I got to dance in a trash bag during those Clean Up Philly TV commercials for Wilson Goode," she laughs. Now Carson, who has her own accounting firm, dances around the house with her children.

Though a low-lit loud club might not be so good a place to talk to old classmates, it's flattering to those who don't look great. Besides, lots of people gathered at the ticket-taking area where Hulme and Class of '88 mate/art major Zak Bird were going through his photo album like they were in Goodfellas. "There's Angry Mike ... and Little Pete. No, I mean Big Pete. Aw. Miguel and Raphie," says Bird right before "Raphie," local artist Raphael Tiberino, walks through the door.

Before the night is through, the dancefloor becomes what looks like a choreographed routine for "Thriller." An alumni association member's wife enjoys the open bar and CAPA cake. "A lot," says Hulme in amazement. And along with Hulme belting Björk's "It's Oh So Quiet," a ponytailed Ken Hamilton takes on "The Impossible Dream" with great import. "I wanted to show you can achieve your goals," said the Temple University opera performance grad.

Casper-Nelson wells up during her emotional rendition of "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman." "Did you see me crying?" she asks. "This event meant a lot to me. Not just as a singer," she laughs. "As a classmate — to my peers; to have their respect."

When "Wishing on a Star" rings at the night's midnight finale, all I could think of was what Casper-Nelson said about everybody at CAPA shining bright. And that I forgot to get a piece of that cake.

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)