Press
John's story was widely reported, both in the New York area and nationally. Because he never gave an interview, some of what was reported was fact and some was speculation, but the public followed the story avidly, eagerly devouring every word. The excerpts from media coverage below are just a sampling of all that was written and broadcast, as dramatic headlines blared the story from arrest to sentencing. Remembering With Hope tells the real story.
THIEF FOR THE POOR THRONE FOR A LOOP
LAURA ITALIANO. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Apr 17, 2002.
SELFLESS ROBBER' REJECTS A PLEA
LAURA ITALIANO. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Feb 7, 2002.
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME : ALTRUISTIC' EMBEZZLE SUSPECT LIVED THE HIGH LIFE:
Laura Italiano, Hannele Rubin and Kiran Randhawa. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Jan 20, 2002.
DA THROWS BOOK AT GOOD THIEF'
LAURA ITALIANO. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Jan 19, 2002.
PALS CALL 'AIDS THIEF' SAINT JOHN
LAURA ITALIANO and WILLIAM J. GORTA. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Jan 17, 2002.
CHARITY BEGAN AT HOME FOR ROBIN HOOD': PROBE
WILLIAM J. GORTA and LAURA ITALIANO. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: Jan 16, 2002.
INVESTMENT FIRM EMBEZZLER GETS 3 YRS.
LAURA ITALIANO. New York Post. New York, N.Y.: May 22, 2002.
ROB THE RICH DEPT. THE KING OF CABARET
Issue of 2002-02-11
Posted 2002-02-04
ROB THE RICH DEPT.
THE KING OF CABARET
Issue of 2002-02-11
Posted 2002-02-04
A few weeks ago, John Loan, a forty-five-year-old events planner, was arrested in Manhattan and charged with embezzling more than three million dollars from the firm he worked for, Alliance Capital Management. This was no ordinary swindle. Loan reportedly used the money—which prosecutors say he stole by writing checks to a company he'd created, called Beautiful Parties—to perform good deeds: to pay the medical expenses of an AIDS-stricken lover, start a foundation for victims of Down's syndrome, and give friends and acquaintances the funds to cover everything from back rent and college tuition to a quadruple-bypass operation and a trip to Lourdes. He also became, under the pseudonym John Jerome, a self-styled impresario of cabaret, a patron of uncommon largesse whose arrest has deprived the straitened world of torch singers and supper clubs of its latest great hope.
In the fall of 1999, Loan—who had been advertising his services as a private acting coach—started turning up, dressed in leather pants and a mesh T-shirt, at Arci's Place, Triad, and other cabaret clubs around town. He introduced himself to everyone as John Jerome, and asked performers why they didn't have CDs coming out. He was starting a record label, Jerome Records. Its logo was a blue butterfly, and its slogan was "You're Going to Be Surprised."
Over the next year, Loan hired a public-relations firm, placed ads in trade publications, and commissioned Al Hirschfeld to draw a caricature of him. He issued seven CDs (among them the début recording of Kristopher McDowell, his former boyfriend) and made lucrative deals for more than a dozen others, with a roster of artists comprising relative unknowns (Laurie Krauz, Jessica Molaskey, Anna Bergman), cabaret regulars (Heather Mac Rae, Jeff Harnar, Phillip Officer), and Broadway veterans (Karen Mason, Christine Andreas, Mary Testa), along with the seventy-seven-year-old singer Julie Wilson and a Barbra Streisand impersonator named Steven Brinberg. Loan rarely haggled, either over contracts (his entertainment lawyer also represented many of the singers who recorded for him) or over creative decisions (Heather Mac Rae says that he told her, "Do whatever you want—I have no artistic control"). When Mac Rae—who is the daughter of the late actors Gordon and Sheila Mac Rae—couldn't afford to promote a CD she had recorded for another label, Loan bankrolled an engagement for her at the Firebird night club.
"He obviously wanted to be liked and accepted," Jamie deRoy, a singer who was on the verge of signing a three-record deal with Loan, said the other day. "The irony is that in the cabaret community there's so little money people will pay attention even if you buy them a drink. Just showing up and paying the cover, you're a welcome presence."
By last fall, Loan was growing increasingly frenetic—making deals, throwing lavish parties, travelling to Europe, even co-sponsoring a benefit at the Bottom Line for victims of the World Trade Center attacks. "Things started to snowball at the end," deRoy said. "At one point, I said, 'Unless you've got some kind of bottomless pit, slow down.' "
Then came the big surprise. Loan's arrest has left a lot of performers, and their projects, in a state of limbo. The masters for Mac Rae's "I Choose Love" are stuck at the manufacturers, with no one to pay for their transfer to disk; Jessica Molaskey's "Pentimento" remains unavailable, although it was the d.j. Jonathan Schwartz's "most satisfying" album of 2001. Remarkably, few of Loan's artists seem terribly angry. Most of them describe Loan as sweet, kind, shy, unassuming, and naïve. Mac Rae calls him "egoless."
At the moment, Loan is being held at Rikers Island, on a million dollars' bail. He faces a possible sentence of up to twenty-five years. Friends are concerned that he is ill suited for prison life, but Loan's criminal attorney, Arthur Aidala, said that his client, though worried, is doing fine.
"He's like the twelve-year-old kid who goes to sleepaway camp," Aidala said. "The first couple of days are horrible, but then you make a few friends and settle in." Aidala said that his client will plead not guilty.
Last week, Heather Mac Rae recalled how Loan had encouraged her to go beyond her theatrical and cabaret roots, assuring her, "I don't care who your parents are—I think you're wonderful." She, in turn, told him that he could get to be as big as Clive Davis or Ahmet Ertegun, to which he replied, "Who are they?"
— Adam Green
Contract Killer
John Loan, the events manager at the prominent investment firm Alliance Capital Management, was arrested Monday, January 14, for embezzling over $3 million from the company, where he had worked for nine years. Indicted on January 25 for grand larceny in the first degree and possession of stolen property in the first degree, Loan is being held on $1 million bail. He will be arraigned in Criminal Court February 6. If tried and convicted, he could receive as much as a 25-year sentence.
The arrest was a body blow to the local cabaret community, because over the last few years, Loan, calling himself John Jerome, had established himself as a benefactor to entertainers who toil regularly in a marginalized show-business arena. Because the potential for CD sales of cabaret artists is limited and because the number of rooms devoted to cabaret is small, many singers make do with low incomes supplemented by day jobs. When they want to produce CDs, now a necessary calling card for bookings, they raise the backing themselves.
That's where Loan/Jerome came to the rescue. After the November 7,
2000, release of then boyfriend Kristopher McDowell's Faces of Love CD on newly formed Jerome Records, the seemingly bottomless-pocketed Jerome began aggressively signing numerous neophyte and established singers—among them Julie Wilson, Karen Mason, Jeff Harnar, and Phillip Officer. In other words, he appeared to have sprung full-blown as a local hero—a Loan John.
At the moment, however, Loan's lawyers won't even speculate about the
disposition of masters and possible royalties. Mark Sendroff and Thomas Shanahan, who are representing Jerome, won't comment on holdings, other than to allow that they're trying to locate and sort through whatever assets exist and then determine, as Sendroff puts it, "which artists we can give relief." If the CDs are completed but unreleased, the two lawyers say, those under contract will have to wait before learning the masters are theirs to assign. Another of Jerome's lawyers, defense attorney Arthur Aidala, points out that Loan's annual Alliance Capital salary was $70,000 plus bonuses and not, as reported elsewhere, $200,000. He adds that his client lives in a simply furnished, rent-controlled apartment and doesn't own the kind of luxury items usually associated with felons feathering nests. Uncertainty over what motivated Jerome is rife among the recipients of his largesse. Kristopher McDowell scheduled a tell-what-he-could meeting with this reporter but, claiming stress, postponed. Those who do talk watch their words carefully. Even though Heather Mac Rae's first Jerome CD is now in limbo, she says, "[Jerome] made my dream come true. As far as I'm concerned, he's a wonderful person." Julie Reyburn, halfway through her first project, says, "There was always this too-goodto-be-true kind of thing, but he was trying to get attention [for cabaret]. He was trying to bring it into the mainstream." Baby Jane Dexter, who'd
recently signed to Jerome but hadn't gone into the studio, allowed that when she learned about developments, "I was in shock, but I wasn't in shock that something was wrong. It always seemed strange." Jerome has also supposedly donated generous amounts of money to charitable causes, although the donations are currently in dispute. As one well-situated observer puts it, "Sure he was giving to a charitable cause— he was giving to cabaret." —David Finkle
Associated Press Archive
April 13, 2002
Cabaret community discovers great hope was just a mirage
MICHAEL LUO AP National Writer
Even after Marcus Simeone realized that it had all been a lie, and his record deal wasn't coming, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at the man who had deceived him. "I liked him," said Simeone, smoking a cigarette at the piano bar at Don't Tell Mama. Simeone, an aspiring pop/rock vocalist who was a Star Search finalist in the 1980s, knows he might be out of luck at this point. But in some ways, he's grateful to John Loan. He made him feel good, if only for a little while.
Loan, 47, who used the pseudonym John Jerome, started showing up at cabaret clubs around town a few years ago. He promised hard-up performers that he'd bring their music to the world.
Soon, singers who had toiled in obscurity were basking in the glow of debut albums and CD release parties. The community was abuzz.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it was gone -- like a desert mirage.
For members of this community, let down once again, it has been almost too much to bear.
"He really gave us hope," said Julie Reyburn, the Bistro Award winner for Outstanding Cabaret Debut in 2001.
Hope is elusive these days in cabaret. Barbra Streisand, Carol Burnett and Bette Midler all got their start in cabaret. Today, only a handful of top performers make a living in the business. Most of the clubs have been shuttered.
In 1999, Loan, a banquet manager at Alliance Capital Management, stopped by a cabaret master class put on by the Genesius Guild, a nonprofit theater company.
Afterward, Loan chatted with Sandi Durell, the organization's chairperson. He appeared fascinated.
"He seemed very genuine," she said later.
Soon, he began making small donations to the group, a few hundred dollars here and there. "Nothing unusual," she said.
He wanted to help newcomers in the industry, he said.
Loan had been a struggling actor and waiter for most of his life. In 1992, he was hired to be a waiter at Alliance, a huge money management firm.
Loan caught the eye of the wife of the firm's CEO. He was soon running extravagant corporate events around the globe. Eventually, he earned more than $200,000 a year.
Loan was always ambitious, friends said, but wanted to do something meaningful.
In 1998, Loan started a school for struggling actors, Solo Performances. Then, he found cabaret.
Gratified by Loan's interest, Durell mentioned that she had thought of producing a compilation album that could be used as a Guild fundraiser.
"Let's do a CD," he replied.
Durell lined up artists; Loan took care of the rest. Durell estimates that it cost at least $30,000.
Around the same time, ads began to appear everywhere for an unknown singer, Kristopher McDowell, who was Loan's lover.
Critics panned him, but a lavish album release party for McDowell went ahead, doubling as a coming out for the new label, Jerome Records.
Cabaret regulars who attended sensed something big happening. Finally, someone was taking a chance on them.
In the year that followed, in a niche market where putting out one or two albums a year is considered ambitious, Loan put out a half-dozen, including debuts by a number of unknown artists.
Many were wary. But it was not unusual, said Durell, for people in the industry to be independently wealthy.
The steady flow of money and albums won people over. Loan contributed to the image of success, going out almost nightly, picking up tabs and sending champagne over to tables. He paid for expensive dinners and a limo service for his artists.
"He made you feel like a star," said Karen Mason, one of the current leads in the Broadway hit, "Mamma Mia!" "In a business where you feel like you can be a star, it was a really nice thing."
On many nights after performances, Loan could be found holding court, at the piano bar, writing checks out with flourish in his Versace shirt and red leather pants.
As he headed into his second year, he sought to land bigger names. But he continued to focus on those who needed a break.
By October, he had promised albums for a slew of no names, including a piano bar waitress and singer, Jenifer Kruskamp, and cabaret newcomer Reyburn.
Friends in the cabaret community tried to caution Loan. "Unless you've got some bottomless pit . . . you've got to slow down," said Jamie deRoy, a producer and singer.
Beyond cabaret, Loan donated generously to gay groups and AIDS organizations. Soon after Sept. 11, he underwrote a concert that raised $41,000 for the Twin Towers Fund.
But by October, trouble seemed to loom. Durell grew alarmed after several promised checks from the fundraising album never arrived.
The news spread that Jerome would join Lisa Schiff at After 9 Records, forming a new company, Jerome After 9. In January, Schiff came back from her vacation home in Aspen to finalize the arrangement. For a week, she tried to reach Loan.
On January 15, she opened the paper and noticed a headline on the arrest of a "Robin Hood" who had bilked his firm of $3 million. A chill went through her.
"I had an instinct who the Robin Hood was," she said.
Reyburn, in the middle of recording, got a call from her producer, who told her their sessions were canceled for the rest of the week.
"I was like, 'Our sessions are canceled for the rest of our lives,'" said Reyburn.
According to police, two employees examining Alliance's budget discovered something odd.
Alliance's records only date back to January 1998, police said. But detectives said Loan told them he started stealing in 1995, around the time when his then-lover, Jamie Nesky, was diagnosed with AIDS. Loan set up a fictitious firm, Beautiful Parties, and started billing Alliance.
Loan told police that he used the checks for his friend's medical bills. Later, almost none of the students in his acting school, Solo Performances, had the money to pay him, so Alliance's money went to them as well, police said.
At Loan's arraignment on grand larceny and possession of stolen property charges, prosecutors said the bulk of the money went to Jerome Records. They traced just $150,000 in charitable contributions.
But Loan's friends tell of other acts of altruism, including paying for two semesters' tuition at Fordham University for a needy student.
The last time Loan was able to bill Alliance was October 9, 2001, according to court records.
He now faces up to 25 years in prison, although prosecutors have offered 4 to 12 years in exchange for a guilty plea.
With their projects in limbo, Loan's artists are trying to pick up the pieces.
In retrospect, many said they always sensed something strange about Loan. He had a need to be liked that controlled him, said Simeone, who had negotiated a four-album deal with Loan.
After being devastated initially, he later felt sympathy for Loan.
"You embezzle millions of dollars just so someone can say, 'Hey, John. I'm your friend,'" he said. "How many of us would go to that extreme?"
In the end, most in the cabaret community remain grateful to Loan for helping them live their dreams. He had them under a spell, they said, not unlike what happens in a good cabaret performance.
At a cabaret party recently at Swing 46, someone gave a toast. "This community needs more John Jeromes," he said.
That drew the most applause.
Copyright 2002, 2003 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
NEWS January 25, 2002
Cabaret Crushed by Loan Arraignment
By Leonard Jacobs
Shakespeare and cabaret usually don't intertwine, but the spectacular rise and fall of John Jerome, a.k.a. John Loan, a man called both an embezzler of millions and one of cabaret's great supporters somehow seems to possess the very dimensions of Shakespearean tragedy.
Loan, who used the name John Jerome for his dealings with the entertainment industry, created Jerome Records and over the last few years has produced a fleet of CDs for many of the major and up-and-coming artists in the cabaret community—a community continually struggling for a toehold in the marketplace. Even outside of the cabaret community, Loan/Jerome was known as an uncommonly philanthropic man, helping out friends and artists who had fallen on financial hard times and generally being, by all accounts, a smart, warm, endearing fellow.
Yet according to the text of his arraignment in criminal court on Jan. 15, the funding for the CDs he produced and the source of all of his altruism was embezzled cash. The cash, the arraignment says, came through his job as an events manager at Alliance Capital, an investment firm, to the tune of $3 million dollars over a period of approximately four years.
The text of the arraignment reads, in part: "[The] informant is a vice president at Alliance Capital and as such is familiar with that company's record keeping and billing practices….over one million dollars paid in invoices submitted by a company called 'Beautiful Parties' dated…Jan. 23, 1998 to approximately Oct. 9, 2001…approvals noted on the invoices had not in fact been obtained and that therefore the money was paid without permission or authority."
Loan vs. Myth
The text of the arraignment, however, does not address what the cabaret community as well as the theatrical community as a whole believes to be the essence of Loan/Jerome as a person. Indeed, his arraignment has deeply shocked the artists who knew him and worked with him, especially those who recorded on his label and generally regarded him as a friend, supporter, and benefactor. Now, in addition to the concern over his indictment, there are questions about the location and ownership of master tracks. For many artists, it all adds up to a wrenching internal battle between their warm-hearted feelings for their friend and colleague and the realization that a felonious, white-collar crime may have been committed.
No one Back Stage interviewed for this article believes that if Loan/Jerome is found guilty, that he ought not be punished appropriately—if not severely—for his offenses. But, everyone interviewed by Back Stage for this article maintains that the "innocent until proven guilty" aspect of the American justice system must apply in this case as well.
"The bottom line is, he has been accused of committing a crime, and until proven guilty, no one really knows whether it's the whole truth or part of the truth, and we're all yet to be enlightened," said Sandi Durell, chairman of the board of directors of the Genesius Guild, a theatre company that also produces a popular cabaret series at the Players club. Durell has come to know Loan/Jerome as a friend, fellow cabaret devotee, and sponsor. "I know John about three years and to me he's always been loveable, sweet, honest, and a friend.
"But I am not going to just negate him even if he has committed a crime," Durell continued. "A friend is a friend—and this is the time when a friend needs you. I knew he was out there helping people—I knew he even helped people when they couldn't pay their rent. It's the juxtaposition—this person doing good for artists who may have been also committing grand larceny. I am just so sad."
Stage performer and cabaret artist Stephanie Pope, who recorded her CD, "Now's the Time to Fall in Love" with Jerome Records and has also lent her voice to several of the label's CD compilations, is similarly saddened. "Obviously I can't give any definitive statement on what's happened here; we're all still waiting for the dust to settle. But needless to say, I am shocked by all of this—some of us are feeling duped, hoodwinked, bamboozled, and I am a bit numb and it's all very unfortunate. It's especially unfortunate because as a producer, he seemed to be that rare breed that truly cared about his artists. He seemed to want to do so much for the cabaret community and to give it the recognition it deserves. For that, I was proud to have been associated with his label."
Equally sad is cabaret artist Heather Mac Rae, whose Harbinger Records CD, "Songs for My Father," was critically acclaimed, and whose second CD, "I Choose Love," has had its February release date postponed, perhaps indefinitely. "Obviously I'm terribly disappointed, obviously I feel terrible for John Jerome, and obviously I don't condone what he may have done," she says. "He was, however, such a good person—always an absolute gentleman, always honest and forthright, and I never saw anything like a duplicitous nature in him. But obviously there were some things we just didn't know about him.
"I have to also say that I'm very, very concerned about the fate of Jerome Records. My next CD is sitting at the disk makers right now while we await word on what we can do, and I'm told that there's nothing we can do right now. I'm hoping that when the smoke clears, maybe somebody else will take over Jerome Records—or maybe I can just retrieve my masters.
"Whatever John did with the money, if he did indeed do this, it was not for his own glorification," Mac Rae concluded. "He did not live like a king. Jerome Records' office is an extremely modest place on Ninth Avenue and he certainly wasn't living in a Fifth Avenue apartment with servants. Who knows why he did it? I just can't say. But I still like him, and I would still visit him, and I even wrote a letter to the District Attorney in his favor. He did too much for me to turn away from him. He was always available to me anytime night or day. I can't, in my heart, condemn him."
