I was interviewing Nancy Anderson because she’s coming to the Blairstown (NJ) Theater Festival (www.blairstowntheaterfestival.com) on New Year’s Eve Eve — Dec. 30 — to sing unmiked in a music hall built in 1913. The concert is called Bach to Broadway, and granted, the first half will be Anderson-less, for that section will simply feature classical music. But the second half is when I’ll be paying attention — when Anderson does selections from The Desert Song, The Girl from Utah, Girl Crazy, Naughty Marietta, Show Boat, Simple Simon, and many others musicals.

I’ve always greatly admired Nancy Anderson as a performer, whether in a show (Jolson and Co.) or in concert (Broadway by the Year). Now, after interviewing the two-time Drama Desk nominee, I admire her just as much — maybe even more — as a human being. Remember, I’ve been interviewing people off-and-on since 1970, and as much as once a week for the last 20 theatrical seasons. Now, if someone asked me to name my top ten interviews, Anderson would have to be on the list.

It’s not just that she was forthcoming with information (you’d be surprised how many performers aren’t) or because she often said a funny line. What really impressed me was the lady’s value system. While she was telling me her life story, I kept thinking about the many other performers I’d interviewed who had similar tales to Anderson’s — but how these people had come away with different conclusions from the ones she’d reached. Let me give some examples:

Anderson, on her background: “I thank my mother so much for getting me interested in musicals. She had plenty of cast albums, and every Friday, we’d go to the video store, rent eight movie musicals, and watch them all weekend long. I loved those Fred and Ginger movies from the ‘30s.”

What many other performers would say: “I loved Fred and Wilma Flintstone.”

Anderson on her high school days: “Our drama teachers really played fair. They spread the wealth around, casting different people in the leads for different shows, and by doing that, they really did me a favor. In real life, getting cast in a lead isn’t always about being the most talented — there’s often another reason why someone gets a part — and to be taught lessons like that in ‘just-for-fun’ theater made me learn to not feel entitled. Otherwise, I might have turned into a conceited little kid.”

What many other performers would say: “In my four years in high school, I played both Marias -- the Puerto-Rican and the nun -- Winifred in Mattress, and — can you believe it — only Kim, and not Rosie in Bye Bye Birdie. What were they thinking? And the girl they cast as Rosie really stunk.”

Anderson on her voice: “Years ago, in summer stock, where they used to do operettas, I was always in the chorus because I didn’t have a strong enough voice compared to those girls who could sing their faces off. I love operetta so much, and wanted to sing like Jeannette MacDonald. Now I can sing this material, because I went looking for the right voice teacher and found one who could realign my voice.”

What many other performers would say: “There’s nothing wrong with my voice. I sound as good as anyone else. I still don’t understand why I didn’t get the lead in Rose Marie.”

Anderson on lyrics: “My main thrust has been about conveying the lyric. When I was 12, I had a teacher at summer camp who pulled me aside and said, ‘So you got a pretty voice. So what? We don’t care. If we don’t know what you’re saying, we don’t care. We have to know what the lyric means.’ So, to make that happen, I started writing lyrics out, over and over and over again, until I really understood what they meant and what they said. That’s how I’d get a part. I couldn’t get one by singing better than anyone else, because I can’t. But, you know, I understand why sopranos want to go in there and hit those high notes. If I had that voice, I would have sung for Jesus all the time, too.”

What many other performers would say: “The teacher I had at camp really infuriated me with some stupid criticism. I don’t remember what it was, but it was really lame.”

Anderson on her first New York experience: “Through a strange series of coincidences, I knew someone who could get me an audition for an off-off-Broadway musical in New York. I didn’t think I should try it, because at that point, I hadn’t taken any acting lessons, didn’t know how to tap dance. My best friend wanted me to go, though, and said, after a nightlong discussion, ‘Nancy, if you don’t go, I’m going to put on blonde wig and go for you.’ I had no headshots, and came down with a picture they took of me at summer stock that they’d put on Styrofoam backing. I memorized a monologue on the bus ride down, and when I got there, with my flat shoes, no stockings, no make-up, my hair air-dried, I ran into these girls who’d been in beauty pageants. I sang some spirituals I knew from high school chorus, and I was astonished that they cast me.”

What many other performers would say: “Well, so what that I hadn’t taken any acting lessons? So what that I didn’t know how to tap dance? I’d done beauty pageants, so I knew New York would be blown away when it got a look at me. The only reason I didn’t get the part was because the casting director was just jealous that I was so good, and wished that she were as good so she wouldn’t have had to go into casting.”

What Anderson says about her Jolson and Co. audition: “They gave me 25 pages of sides, and told me to come back at noon the next day. They wanted me to do a Mae West impression, ands that I’d have to use a Yiddish accent for the other parts. I was lucky to have studied with a man named Elliott Balaban, so I knew the Yiddish accent. That night I watched four Mae West moves, two Ruby Keeler movies, and Hester Street  (a movie that took place on the lower East Side during that era). I just sat there, opened my eyes, ears, and mouth, and pores, and just drank them all in. I said, ‘Nancy, absorb it. Do not think. Just absorb.’ I then noticed other people in the movies, and got a valuable characterization from someone other than Mae West. And it was this OTHER character who helped me get the part.”

What many other performers would say: A toss-up between “I rented one Mae West movie, and fast-forwarded through it so I could watch her scenes” and “I was going to go to the video store, but figured they wouldn’t have any Mae West movies, so I stayed home and watched far less talented people than me on American Idol.”

Anderson on A Class Act: “I’d always played innocents, and had never played a sexy part in my life. I’m from Boston, after all! But I tried, and people said ‘You’re doing an amazing Joey Heatherton imitation.’ I never heard of her, so I went to the Museum of Broadcasting to see who she was. I was shocked at what this woman did in prime time — real sexual. It helped me even more in what I was doing.”

What many other performers would say: “Joey Heatherton? Who’s he? Never heard of him.”

Anderson on what led to her Kiss Me, Kate audition: “After Class Act opened, we had a party where I met this new boy I wanted to date. Afterwards, I went home — Kirk McDonald was my roommate at the time — and I talked about this new boy and everything else, and we were up till 5:30 before I went to bed. Then, at 8:30, my phone rang, and it was (casting director) Vinny Liff, saying, ‘(Producer) Roger Berlind saw you in Class Act last night; can you be at the auditions for the tour of Kiss Me, Kate by noon?’ Now I didn’t have the money to have my make-up and hair stuff both at home and the theater, so I called my stage manager, who wasn’t happy to hear from me that early in the morning. But she called maintenance and arranged for me to get in (Manhattan Theatre Club). I live on 14th Street, so I had to go up to 55th Street, do my hair, put on my make-up, go back to Chelsea Studios on 25th and arrive by noon. I had three hours of sleep, and now, for the first time, I was meeting Kathleen Marshall, Paul Gemignani, Michael Blakemore, and Roger Berlind.”

What many other performers would say: “Would you believe it? When I got up at noon, I checked my machine, and that phone ringing I’d heard at 8:30 but didn’t answer was from Vinny Liff, asking me to audition for Kiss Me, Kate that day. What the hell was he doing calling so early in the morning? Besides, all my make-up and hair stuff was at the theater, more than 40 blocks away, so how could I get it?”

Anderson on that Kiss Me, Kate audition: “I’d been obsessed with Paul Gemignani since I saw Crazy for You — the first Broadway show I saw when I moved here — because I thought his tempos were perfect; I’m a tempo freak. I sang, and I swear, Paul Gemignani was looking down at some paper when I started, and the more I sang, little by little he raised his head. Then they gave me pages to read, and said, ‘Do you want to take it outside and look at it?’ But I was on a roll, and sometimes if you’re that tired, you can’t go outside because you might lose it. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I want to do it right now.’ I did, and they gave me the part!”

What many other performers would say: “They gave me all these pages and asked if I wanted to go outside, so I said yes and went out and sat in the waiting room — but of course, I was so exhausted from being up so late the night before that the next thing I knew, they were shaking me and saying, ‘Wake up, wake up.’”

Anderson on another performer: “Kristin Chenoweth’s getting a Tony and getting famous is the reason my career happened. Suddenly I was getting everything that people were writing for her, because I was the Kristin Chenoweth replacement, the closest you could get to ‘zany blonde,’ even though I could never sing like her, of course; who can? So my career really took off because of her, and I thank her for creating a type, because before that, there was no type for me. Not really. I didn’t even know how to sell myself because I didn’t know what type to fit into. One of my first auditions was for Les Miz, and I got typed out when a woman came up to me and said, ‘Too cute, too blond, get out.’”

What many other performers would say: “I don't know why everyone hires that damn Kristin before they cast me. She’s no better than I am.”

Anderson on Burleigh Grime$, this summer’s flop play in which she had tiny multiple roles: “My agent, like all agents, think that a theater actor’s getting cast in a non-musical play is like gold, that we should take a back seat just to get into a play. I understand that we’re considered second-class citizens, so I said yes. I heard a lot of people complain that all the people in the show who were known from TV got all the attention, but I understand that. They’re the ones that people want to see.”

What many other performers say: “Are you kidding? I’ve got two Drama Desk nominations, and they want me to play these bit parts when those no-talent TV people get the leads? Forget it!”

What Peter Filichia says about Nancy Anderson: “And those, dear friends, are some reasons why people cast Nancy Anderson and not other performers.”