Saturday, September 21, 2019

The Conde Nast Rivalry Between Anna Wintour and Tina Brown -- Excerpt from ALL THAT GLITTERS

The Fixer -- Donald Trump, Roy Cohn and Their Newhouse Connection, Excerpt from ALL THAT GLITTERS

The Fixer 

By Thomas Maier
(Excerpted from “All That Glitters: Anna Wintour, Tina Brown and The Rivalry Inside America’s Richest Media Empire”, Skyhorse Press, 2019.)

Power was invigorating to lawyer Roy Cohn, a magical tonic that made his sleepy-looking eyes move faster around a room, and his sometimes-prickly personality turn witty and effervescent.
During the 1980s, Cohn had numerous powerful clients -- including his best friend, media baron Si Newhouse Jr., the city’s top mobster Anthony (“Fat Tony”) Salerno, and a local developer, Donald Trump, the most ambitious of all.
Although a registered Democrat all his life, Cohn felt most at home with anti-government Republicans like President Ronald Reagan and, during a more confrontational time, Senator Joseph McCarthy, the virulent anti-Communist of the 1950s. At the controversial Army-McCarthy Senate investigative hearings, chief counsel Cohn posed the classic witness question of the Red-scare era: “Are you now or have you ever been a Communist?”
From McCarthy, later censured for his baseless accusations, Roy learned the art of smash-mouth politics, a lesson he taught to others.
“Roy was brutal, but he was a very loyal guy,” recalled Trump, who relied on Cohn’s legal advice starting in the 1970s. “He brutalized for you.”
By the 1980s, Roy had ingratiated himself with the Newhouse family as perhaps no other outsider. To those curious about the ever-secretive Si and his multibillion-dollar empire, Cohn was more than willing to be quoted, providing his own angle and “spin” to reporters, like a seasoned public-relations agent.
In American life, there were few more powerful forces than the media—with its pervasive reach among the public and its ability to generate billions of dollars in revenues. Cohn was well aware of his best friend’s place in that pantheon of power.
 “If they wanted, the Newhouses could push a couple of buttons and become the most powerful publishing force in the United States,” Roy told The Wall Street Journal in 1982. “But that would collide with their concept of local autonomy.”
But Cohn had every intention of using the Newhouse news pages to help his friends and to punish his political enemies. Eventually, Cohn became a full-fledged power broker in New York City and national politics.
“Don’t Mess with Roy Cohn,” warned an Esquire magazine headline with his pugnacious face on its cover.

As a political fixer, Cohn’s most remarkable publicity coup with Newhouse’s Parade, a magazine delivered in thousands of Sunday newspapers across the country, didn’t feature himself. Instead it involved one of his most important allies— the President of the United States, Ronald Reagan.
As the 1984 campaign season approached, Cohn had lunch with Ed Rollins, a top political aide to the President. Rollins worried about poll results showing Reagan’s age -- as well as lingering doubts that the President might not have recovered fully from the 1981 assassination attempt -- posed one of the few obstacles to his otherwise certain re-election. Cohn soon had a perfect solution.
“It seemed to me that a well-placed magazine article showing the President’s physical prowess would be the best answer,” Cohn told Sidney Zion for his autobiography. “The obvious magazine was Parade.”
According to Cohn’s account, the magazine’s editor “engineered an article on the President’s outdoor activities with a cover piece showing him diving into a swimming pool, his massive chest and strong body, and then leading into shots of him chopping wood at the California ranch. The article served its purpose. It was widely received and acclaimed.”
    The Cohn-planted story and carefully staged photographs of the President more than adequately fulfilled its purpose. As Time magazine commented, “With its Charles Atlas photos of a fit, firm Reagan, the Paradepiece had a clear political payoff: if a President pumps iron, his age seems moot.”
    Documents at the Reagan Presidential Library show how Cohn traded on the Parade cover story. In his August 1984 letter to a Reagan aide seeking another favor, Cohn described himself as “Special Counsel” to the Newhouse Publications and boasted that he had “arranged the now famous picture and story of the President working out.”
 When the Parade cover story appeared, the White House was overjoyed. Cohn had worked his magic in the effort to restore Reagan’s image as a rugged outdoorsman, much younger and healthier than his age suggested. With the help of Newhouse’s magazine, the President had put the assassin’s bullet behind him, at least in the mind of the American public.
     Like any self-respecting fixer, Cohn became annoyed when David Gergen, upon leaving as White House communications director, took credit for the Parade cover with the President. But the GOP cognoscenti knew who had really fixed the deal.
“That was absolutely Roy; that was Roy’s handiwork—the cover of Ronald Reagan lifting weights,” recalled Roger Stone, the GOP political strategist who got to know Cohn while serving as Northeast campaign manager for Reagan’s 1980 presidential campaign (and later a political adviser to Donald Trump). “Roy told me about the idea several weeks before it happened.”
Especially pleased with the outcome was First Lady Nancy Reagan, who had a fondness for Cohn and his behind-the-scenes approach.
“I remember Mike Deaver and Nancy Reagan thanked him profusely for it,” recalled Stone. “She knew that Roy could get things done, and she respected and used people who could get things done.”

In the pantheon of Cohn favors, the most far-reaching deal was Newhouse’s personal effort to convince Roy’s client, local New York real estate developer Donald Trump, to write a book for Random House.
FBI undercover photo of Roy Cohn and his client Anthony "Fat Tony" Salerno at the same time Cohn was friend/attorney for Si Newhouse and future President Donald Trump. All described in ALL THAT GLITTERS
        By 1984, Newhouse was familiar with Trump from New York social circles and their own mutual friendship with Roy. Cohn had helped broker sensitive matters for both men. At that time, Cohn was well known nationally, but Trump had not yet become the man of a thousand tabloid headlines.
Trump’s marquee potential became evident to Si when “street sales”—issues bought at newsstands rather than through subscriptions—jumped for Newhouse’s GQ magazine issue featuring a smiling Donald on its May 1984 cover. The author of this fawning freelance GQ article, Graydon Carter, would play a much bigger role in the Newhouse media empire in years to come.
Graydon Carter wrote this flattering Donald Trump GQ profile that begins with a Roy Cohn anecdote and inspired Si Newhouse to publish "The Art of the Deal," Trump's memoir that became the launching pad for his national career.
Trump -- then a 38-year-old businessman with a dashing appearance and a multimillion-dollar real estate portfolio -- captured the interest of readers, embodying the era’s much-publicized ideal of the brash Yuppie on the make. In a money-worshipping culture, Trump seemed the embodiment of “SUCCESS – How Sweet It Is”, as the cover headline touted.
 “He has powerful friends, a beautiful wife, a football team and some of the choicest turf in Manhattan,” as Carter’s GQ article described Trump. “It’s wild, it’s crazy. Isn’t it?”
Naturally, this Trump tribute began with an anecdote involving his pal Roy Cohn (“known around town as a fixer of sorts”) and how The Donald helped a visiting client of Cohn’s law firm land a last-minute hotel room at one of Trump’s places. There was no mention in the article that Roy was also Newhouse’s lawyer.
    But Graydon did recognize Trump’s star power and his deal-making ability. “As in the movies, success in real estate often depends on the deal, and Trump, in his relatively short career, has proved himself a remarkably deft dealmaker,” Carter wrote. Usually, in his rendition, these deals were at the expense of dim-witted bureaucrats who gave away tax abatements or other goodies at the public’s expense.
     Even if Graydon was holding his nose at the stench of Trump’s ego, his article suggested this wheeler-dealer was on his way to becoming America’s ideal billionaire, in the grand old tradition of “men who take risks and make millions”.
Si also saw gold in this golden-haired dealmaker. At a December 1984 book sales conference in Puerto Rico, Newhouse made signing up Trump an immediate priority.
    Soon afterward, Si personally called Trump, and that initial contact begat a series of follow-up meetings with Random House’s then associate publisher Peter Osnos. “It was very definitely, and almost uniquely, Si Newhouse’s idea,” Osnos later recalled.
During one conference with Trump, Osnos brought along, at Si’s suggestion, a dummy book jacket with a picture of the wheeler-dealer standing splendidly in the atrium of his Trump Tower. trump was emblazoned in large gold letters across a black background at the top of the jacket. Osnos wrapped the jacket around a thick Russian novel for further verisimilitude.
Although it wasn’t War and Peace, the sales pitch worked. “When I’m ready to do the book, I’d like to do it with Random House,” Trump wrote to Newhouse.
Privately, Trump was flattered by Si’s interest, enough to approach him personally. Trump told the press he’d donate his royalties to charity and chose writer Tony Schwartz to be his Boswell.
A year later, his self-congratulatory paean to himself, Trump: The Art of the Deal, became a huge best-seller for Random House. The book served as Trump’s own personal claim to greatness, the Rosetta stone for all that followed. In it, he recalled his Manhattan real estate deals and mentioned how much he learned from his personal lawyer, Roy Cohn.
“I don’t kid myself about Roy,” Trump recounted.“He was no Boy Scout. He once told me that he’d spent more than two thirds of his adult life under indictment on one charge or another. That amazed me. I said to him, ‘Roy, just tell me one thing. Did you really do all that stuff?’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘What the hell do you think?’ he said. I never really knew.”
    In Vanity Fair,Tina Brown ran an excerpt from the Trump book under the headline “Big Deal: How I Do It My Way”,undoubtedly pleasing her boss. It contained some of The Donald’s favorite bromides that seem both hilarious and prescient in retrospect. (“You don’t act on impulse – even a charitable one—unless you’ve considered the downside,” the future president declared. “Fighting back might run up my legal bills and even make me rethink my strategy, but the one thing I wasn’t about to do was allow myself to be blackmailed.”)
   Trump’s tome “has a crassness I like,” Brown described in her private diary at the time. “In the end, the only thing about self-serving books like this is, do they capture the true voice… There is something authentic about Trump’s bullshit. Anyway, it feels, when you are finished it, as if you been nose to nose for four hours with an entertaining con man and I suspect the American public will like nothing better. Very glad I got it for the mag.”
   Brown couldn’t figure out Newhouse’s close friendship with Cohn, a right-wing mob lawyer whose public atrocities were already well known. “Si seems to love thugs who will give him a frisson of toughness,” she observed of their friendship. “Si is a gangster of wishful thinking, always excited by the presence of swagger.“ As with Harvey Weinstein, a thuggish friend later of her own, Tina learned to ignore the rumors of impropriety and concentrate on her business at hand.
   A few years later, a different ghostwriter prepared Surviving at the Top,Trump’s 1990 sequel. It arrived in bookstores shortly after Trump’s financial troubles became known, with very disappointing sales results. But the original “Art of the Deal” book secured Trump’s place as a nationally recognized figure in the bright firmament of American Hype.
   From now on, in almost mythic terms, Trump would sell himself as the nation’s favorite swashbuckling tycoon. After Trump appeared on TV to promote his 1987 book, former president Richard Nixon wrote him a fan letter, sensing his political potential. “Whenever you decide to run for office you will be a winner,” Nixon predicted.
For Newhouse, the Trump best-seller captured the spirit of what he was trying to do both at Random House and, even more so, at his Condé Nast magazines.
“It’s obvious that this book was like Vanity Fair, the preeminent example of a certain instinct that Si has for a kind of glamour and power and public presence,” said one person intimately involved in the first Trump book. “It’s like Trump was a kind of shadow for him, in the sense that Si is so shy and so bumbling with words and so uncomfortable in social situations. I think his attraction to Trump was that he was so much his opposite. So out there, so aggressive, so full of himself.”
When the book party was held in the Trump Tower atrium, Si Newhouse greeted nearly a thousand guests along with his new author who thanked him profusely. The two shook hands before the crowd – both powerful sons of wealthy men from New York’s outer boroughs, both scions who wanted to make a name for themselves in Manhattan.
Twenty violinists played in the background. Former Miss America Phyllis George and TV star Barbara Walters attended. Comedian Jackie Mason introduced Trump and his then-wife Ivanka with the quip, “Here comes the king and queen!”
Nearly three decades later, Trump appeared in the same pink marble atrium, with a new wife Melania, to announce his 2016 bid for president. His old ghostwriter, Tony Schwartz, wasn’t there. Like Graydon Carter and Tina Brown, Schwartz now felt repulsion at “sociopath” Trump, a household name he helped create.
“I feel a deep sense of remorse that I contributed to presenting Trump in a way that brought him wider attention and made him more appealing than he is,” Schwartz said before Election Day 2016. “I genuinely believe that if Trump wins and get the nuclear codes there is an excellent possibility it will lead to the end of civilization.”
Schwartz expressed nothing but regret at the 1987 publishing deal engineered by Si Newhouse.
“I put lipstick on a pig,” Schwartz said of his Trump book, the one that The Donald didn’t write. He now considered himself a “sellout” for accepting the money.



Wednesday, September 18, 2019



The Big Party

Big hair, big egos, big dreams. All the ambition and over-the-top stylings of Manhattan in the 1980s -- a time when the Reagans ruled the White House and Donald Trump was a mere local developer -- appeared on display at the annual Condé Nast Christmas party. 
From a distance, this gathering looked like one of those Old Hollywood studio luncheons where newsreel cameras panned each glittering actor, movie director and famous face. Only this private event for the Condé Nast media empire was far more exclusive, with its “stars” compared to a then-popular television show called “Dynasty”.
S. I. Newhouse Jr., a small reclusive man known as “Si”, reigned supreme over this dazzling affair, along with his debonair long-time editorial director Alexander Liberman. For decades, these two men controlled an array of glossy magazines  -- stuffed with perfume-scented pages full of beautiful models, clothes and accoutrements – which dictated how women should look, dress, and feel.
At tables near Newhouse, each editor was seated in proximity to their perceived favor with the boss. Closest to Si were his most celebrated stars, Anna Wintour of Vogueand Tina Brown of Vanity Fairand eventually The New Yorker.
While these two female editors traded polite smiles and bon mots, the press portrayed their relationship as nothing less than a duel. An air of contention pervaded the room like perfume or the aroma of a fine wine. From the moment that Wintour walked through the door as a Condé Nast editor, Timemagazine reported, “rumors of a Dynasty-style cat fight with Brown began to circulate.” 
Both pooh-poohed talk of any rivalry, and under different circumstances, the two young British women might have been friends. But in the intense world of Condé Nast -- where Newhouse presided over a “managed competition” among his editors -- a tug-of-war for power and influence was only natural.
This tension seemed reflected even in the group photo taken at these holiday conclaves held at the Four Seasons restaurant, an elegant mid-Manhattan eatery known for its “power lunches”. Usually in these photos, Si could found in the middle, with Anna standing to his right, and Tina on the opposite left.  
Virtually everyone in America’s media took note of the Condé Nast fireworks, just as Newhouse intended. No longer would the Newhouse name be weighed solely by the chain of dull grey newspapers started by his father in out-of-the-way places. 
Anna Wintour and Tina Brown have become twin symbols of the new Condé Nast, where glamour and celebrity are the coin of the realm, editors are stars, and Britannia rules the waves,” enthused The New York Timesin 1989. “In their glossy journals, they are purveyors of gossip and celebrity, yet they themselves have become celebrities of a sort, fodder for the rumor mills. Their clothes, their homes, their husbands, their rise through the organization, their salaries (said to be very well into the six figures) and perks - all are grist. Wintour and Brown have brought a high-flying style to the company that the gossip columns dote on.”
Though Wintour and Brown, both women in their thirties, came from similar privileged backgrounds in the United Kingdom and married older accomplished men, they were quite different in appearance and editorial style. 
At first glance, Brown seemed the most talented, the better writer, the final arbiter of trends and tastes. But Wintour would prove every bit as capable, perhaps more than Brown realized, in their company’s battle of wits.
Now, a quarter century later, Tina and Anna are part of the cast of colorful characters, titanic struggles, petty jealousies, corrupting influences and lasting impact of the Condé Nast magazine empire, brought to life in a planned six-hour mini-series  “All That Glitters,” produced by Sony Pictures Television.
This drama is based on my 1994 book “Newhouse: All The Glitter, Power and Glory of America’s Richest Media Empire and the Secretive Man Behind It”, a rather serious-minded tome about the larger Newhouse media conglomerate, which won the Frank Luther Mott Award as best researched media book for that year. This new abridged and updated version, focusing mostly on the denizens of Condé Nast, uses the original title of that contemporaneous work, “All That Glitters”, as I always intended it
With the vantage that time and history allows, “All That Glitters” looks back at this media world on the cusp of so many changes, one that would define so much of America’s culture and political life today.  Like some Hollywood sequel, it provided the chance to follow what happened to each main character in the ensuing years and assess the consequences of their actions. 
During the 1980s and 1990s, the Newhouse family, with an estimated $12 billion fortune, were at the height of their power. Si was the king of culture in New York -- his privately-run company controlling America’s top book publisher, trend-setting magazines that were the ‘bibles’ for industries like fashion and emerging technologies or pre-eminent in the literary world, the top Sunday newspaper supplement delivered to millions of homes, and a force in New York’s social scene with one of the world’s great modern art collections. 
The fear and intrigue Si’s name engendered, even among employees, made writing the original book irresistible in 1994, the way chatting compulsively about Caesar must have been for the ancient Romans. Newhouse’s death at age 89 in 2017 made a fuller and more complete consideration of his company’s lasting impact on American life more necessary than ever, especially in the age of Trump, fake news, misogyny and #MeToo movement.
Few editors in the history of American publishing made more of a splash in their debut than Tina Brown in the 1980s. As editor of Vanity Fair,she collected a remarkable ensemble of talent and turned around that magazine’s sagging fortunes. She demonstrated a remarkable flair for the Zeitgeist,for catching the highs and lows of American culture like lighting in a bottle. Tina appeared destined to lead Condé Nast into the future.
Buzz, a word she seemed to invent, came naturally to Brown. As a deft writer in her own pages, she penned a 1985 cover “The Mouse That Roared”, amongthe first to detail the crumbling storybook marriage of unhappy Princess Diana and her wimpy husband Charles, the Prince of Wales. Full of juicy details, Tina displayed both a savagery and empathy for Diana, a sort of blonde look-alike, who seemed imprisoned in the old ways of doing things for women. “The English girl is encouraged to be this restrained and almost repressed figure,” explained Brown about the princess. Of course, Tina herself proved to be quite a different Brit in America.
While Brown was brassy and felicitous with words, Anna Wintour was a woman of image and supreme visual style. She seemed born and bred to run Vogue, an ambition she harbored not so secretly for years while watching her father edit newspapers in London. Her signature look -- big dark sunglasses that she wore like “armour”, her auburn hair cut in a trademark bob with sharp bangs, and an endless runway of haute couturedresses  -- oozed with cool, almost unobtainable, elegance. 
But arguably Wintour’s greatest skill was in climbing Condé Nast’s hierarchy, flattering and cultivating the bosses, placing and securing allies in strategic places, and ultimately conducting a long inexorable march to the top. She withstood whispers and jealousies in and out of the company. A hit 2006 movie, “The Devil Wears Prada”,was inspired by her chilly example. Even when she achieved an acknowledged position as one of the top editors of her generation, she suffered the effrontery of older men like “60 Minutes” correspondent Morley Safer who asked in 2009 if she was, as rumored, a bitch.
“I am very driven by what I do. I’m certainly very competitive. … A bitch? I hope I’m not,” Wintour replied. “I try not to be. But I like people who represent the best of what they do. If that turns you into a perfectionist, then maybe I am.”
In the mid-1980s, these two young women entered a media world dominated by men -- particularly Newhouse and Liberman -- accustomed to treating women as pleasant subordinates. In turning this world upside down, Wintour and Brown challenged the old rules, reflecting the seismic rumbles throughout society. 
Both Wintour and Brown were Baby Boomers, the post-World War II generation who came of age in the 1970s with the emerging Women’s Liberation movement that redefined the American workplace. No longer were there just a few “girl reporters” in America’s newsrooms, places once consumed by cigarette smoke, musky testosterone and a bottle of booze in the desk drawer. A veritable army of college-educated young women descended from academia, intent on grabbing power, money and fame as much as any red-blooded male. 
By the late 1980s, women in their thirties like Wintour and Brown were looking to break the “glass ceiling” of male corporate power and weren’t going to take no for an answer. 
In retrospect, this story about Condé Nast -- what happened between its assemblage of famed writers, editors, photographers and hypemeisters -- now seems secondary to the larger fin-de-siècletale about America’s transforming media, culture and politics at the end of the 20th Century taking place right under their nose. 
In the 1980s, print was still pre-eminent, the time-honored method for Newhouse and his family to build a multibillion-dollar fortune. Si and his highly paid minions -- with their A-list parties, perks and celebrity-filled galas at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and after Hollywood’s Oscars -- seemed oblivious to the fundamental class, race and economic divisions within the country. 
Outside their door, the Internet -- with its huge threat to Newhouse’s finances -- loomed like a storm in the night, an earthquake causing a seismic shift in the media’s tectonic plates. Everyone seemed to be laughing and tittering about the Clinton sex scandal until the thunderous shock of September 11, 2001, when advertising dried up and so many walls came tumbling down. These changes, though, would be about more than just money and technology. 
As a troubling sign of things to come, this book examines the blend of hype and political favor-trading between the Newhouse empire and powerful figures like the Reagans in the 1980s. In this celebrity roundabout, gossip was no longer light and fluffy amusement, but rather a potent political weapon.
We’re reminded these murky tabloid waters spawned a young Donald Trump, perhaps the greatest beneficiary of our celebrity culture. In the 1980s, Trump relied on Newhouse and his best friend Roy Cohn, a crooked right-wing lawyer and counselor to New York’s top mobster, to help burnish his image and to create his “brand”. Long after he was gone, Cohn’s malevolent influence continued to be felt. 
As this book details, Si proposed and published  “Trump: The Art of the Deal”, the 1987 best-seller that made “The Donald” famous and eventually put him on the road to the presidency. Newhouse’s Conde Nast editors, like Tina Brown and Anna Wintour, celebrated The Donald and his various wives and latest ventures in their pages.
Both Wintour and Brown were also major media enablers of another bête noire of our age, Harvey Weinstein, the flesh-grabbing Hollywood movie producer who accosted various models, starlets and a host of other women. Both Anna and Tina eagerly promoted Weinstein (Brown even became business partners with him) until Harvey’s personal horrors -- kept from public view for years -- were finally exposed by other media outlets. 
Both top editors claimed not to know anything of the rampant rumors of Harvey’s behavior that swirled around them. Such are the many ironies in the story of Wintour and Brown -- the two most prominent standard-bearers of the Conde Nast media empire during its heyday. Their aspirations, their remarkable talent, their treatment by men like Newhouse and Liberman above them was very representative of the struggle by women to achieve the top rungs of power in traditionally male-dominated companies. What happened to them, with their up and downs, is illustrative of so many female subordinates who dream of one day running things.
In this sense, “All That Glitters” is a parable about the subtle pressures within American media, where power, fame and sexism are sprinkled with easy compromises and ethical corruption. Today, these issues are very much alive as they were in the 1980s. And journalistic trust, accountability and public service are still something many are willingly to forego as long as they have a seat at the Big Party.  
So back we go, in this updated version, to a fabulous, contentious, mystifying modern Byzantium as I observed it a quarter century ago…

Monday, September 16, 2019

The Long HERstory of Misogny at Conde Nast Women's Magazines -- Read ALL THAT GLITTERS

Patronizing Women. With his suave artistic style, Alex Liberman (seen here with wife of a Condé Nast executive) ruled over the glossy magazine empire dedicated to a female audience, though controlled by two men—Newhouse and himself. “When I walk down the corridors at Vogue, especially in the summer, with all those ravishing young creatures in their summer nothings, I feel like Matisse with his odalisques,” Liberman confided to Anna Wintour.

ALL THAT GLITTERS: Donald Trump and his Conde Nast connections over the years

"I am happy to hear that Pres.Obama is considering giving Anna Wintour @voguemagazine an ambassadorship. She is a winner & really smart" -- Donald J. Trump, @realDonaldTrump, December 5, 2012
Read the whole story in ALL THAT GLITTERS

Talking about "ALL THAT GLITTERS" and "MAFIA SPIES" this Monday at Sachem Public Library

Sachem Public Library features "ALL THAT GLITTERS" and "MAFIA SPIES" Discussion

Event Type: Community Services
Date: 9/23/2019
Start Time: 7:00 PM
End Time: 8:30 PM

 Hosted by Larry Davidson
In this new series, authors of various genres will be the focus as award-winning radio and television host/producer, and founder of Writers on the Vine, Larry Davidson explores the art and craft of storytelling by conducting interviews. Meet Thomas Maier, a Long Island based, award-winning author, journalist, and television producer on Monday, September 23 at 7:00pm. His 2009 book, Masters of Sex: the Life and Times of William Masters was the basis for Showtime’s Emmy winning drama that ran for four seasons. His 1998 bestseller, Dr. Spock: An American Life was a NY Times Notable Book of the Year. Mr. Maier has worked as an investigative reporter for Newsday for over thirty years. His new book, Mafia Spies: The Inside Story of the CIA, Gangsters, JFK, and Castro was published in April 2019 and All That Glitters: Anna Wintour, Tina Brown, and the Rivalry Inside America’s Richest Media Empire will be out in September 2019.
A Q&A will follow the interview and books will be available for purchase and signing.

Location: Community Room A

For more Information: