Mr. Canemaker then introduced onto the stage a cadre of wit, wisdom, talent and expertise who had either worked on the film or been deeply inspired by it. First out was Richard M. Sherman, the living legend of songwriting who makes everyone else around him look ten years older by sheer power of his youthful spirit and enthusiasm. Sherman was followed by Stan Freberg, a veteran voice actor who gave sibilant sound to the Beaver and who carried about him all the well rehearsed shtick of a great vaudeville comic (when you have one microphone in a stand and one standing microphone addict …well, the laws of attraction take over from there.) Finally, Canemaker welcomed one of the most gifted animators of Disney’s second golden age, and a devoted student of the craft, Andreas Deja.

Richard Sherman began the conversation by recalling not only the pitch perfect songwriting and singing of Miss Peggy Lee (thanks to John Canemaker for reminding us all that it is not enough to simply refer her as Peggy Lee, no sir!) but Sherman pointed to the carefully crafted score of Oliver Wallace, a subtle stream of melodic perfection that frames the entire film the way great films scores used to do, before we all got used to being clobbered by one Storm Trooper March after another, scene after scene.

The most important thing Richard Sherman touched on was that all the music, and Miss Lee’s compositions in particular – penned with Sonny Burke - advance the story rather than interrupt it. While we don’t really think of “Lady & the Tramp�? as a musical, per se, the five songs all act as story telling songs, each very well positioned in the three acts of the film. Even the beautiful “Peace on Earth�? that bookends the film – a particular favorite of Mr. Sherman’s – serves to inform the story and gently bring us into and out of this far less troubled American landscape.

There was a pristine clip of Miss Lee recording “He’s A Tramp�? in what has to be the sexiest Disney archival footage to date, complete with a mustachioed Thurl Ravenscroft backing - or rather, barking up Miss Lee with his fellow canine crooners. Disney’s truly was a gathering place for great talent.

Alas, even the second singing bust from the left was no match for Stan Freberg once he got going. He revealed that Walt Disney had cast him prior to “Lady & the Tramp�?, as the voice of the Jabberwock in “Alice in Wonderland.�? According to Freberg, the scene went into pencil tests and, as he recalls, even beyond that into final color. Sadly, Walt placed a reluctant call along the lines of “Stan, I’ve been paranoid ever since the PTA got up in arms over how frightening the Witch was in Snow White. The boys have made him so terrifying�?, said Walt, referring to the design and animation of the Jabberwock, “that I’m afraid to use it, so I’ve decided to cut the scene.�? Freberg says he’s never seen the completed work, including the voice he provided which was a perfectly contrasting sort of dopey and harmless characterization. He believes that the drawings, footage and designs are all somewhere in the archive. Well, after that news I’m willing to bet there was a voice mail message this morning over at the Animation Research Library left by Andreas Deja last night!

When Canemaker began his questioning by asking how Freberg arrived at the voice of the Beaver in “Lady and the Tramp�?, a perfect small town know-it-all, the actor said he had devised the voice before coming in to the recording session, based on drawings and designs he had seen earlier. The director (and he didn’t say if it was Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson or Ham Luske) called from the booth to say that Walt was coming down and that he wanted to direct Stan himself. Pulling off the first and only first-hand informed imitation of Walt I’ve ever heard, Freberg remembered it thusly:

“Hello Stan�? “Hello Walt�? “So, let’s hear it�? “Okay�? a few lines are spoken and then Walt says “Say, I like that whistling ‘s’ but it’s kind of hit or miss.�? At which point Walt sent Freberg to the sound department to check out various whistles. He came back with one small pipe that he held at the edge of his lips and blew into with each “S�? of the dialogue.

With this, Stan Freberg pulled out a small whistle from his pocket, perched it on his lips, and proceeded to demonstrate. Seats for a show like this are $100 in NYC, folks, so if you were there to see it first hand then count yourself lucky. It was pure clownish gold from someone whose mold was broken long ago.