
I was sad to hear the news this week of the passing of Arthur Novell, who served as Jim Henson’s publicist for almost two decades. Arthur was not only a publicist, but a confidante and one of Jim’s reliable “fixers”–as many inside the organization warmly described him to me–who could be counted on to solve problems quickly and quietly. No matter what time of day it was, or where in the world Arthur might have been, he could almost always make things better with a phone call, taking care of the business of business and letting Jim Henson be Jim Henson.
After Jim’s death in 1990, Arthur was chosen by Jane Henson to serve as one of the founding board members of The Jim Henson Legacy on its establishment in 1992. That’s actually where he was when I first came to know him; he was serving as president of the Legacy when I approached the organization in 2008 to talk about a biography of Jim. He was genuinely warm and encouraging–and always so patient with me–and once I got the okay to proceed with the project around 2010, Arthur was one of the book’s biggest fans and cheerleaders.
There’s a good reason I called him the spiritual father of the biography; it wouldn’t have happened without his careful attention. I loved getting his e-mails dispensing guidance on how to approach performers, giving me his perspective on Jim’s career, or calling me “just to check in.” And there were times, I’m sure, when his hand on my shoulder–or his working behind the scenes on something I’m probably not even aware of to this day–made a real difference in my conversations with the Henson family, friends, and colleagues. With Arthur on your side, you were a made man.
After the book was published, Arthur and I stayed in touch, sometimes just a line or two in an e-mail. Any time I was in New York, I would try to have dinner–usually Chinese food–with him and his husband, Eddie, lingering for hours just so I could listen to the man tell stories, whether it was of his dancing on stage in New York as a young man, taking phone calls from Jim at 2 in the morning, or ushering around guests for Muppets Tonight. One of the last times we tried to get together, my train to New York was impossibly delayed and prevented us from having dinner. But Arthur texted me well into the evening and told me he was sorry we wouldn’t be able to see each other and that he missed talking with me.
That’s how he was.
Arthur was a lovely, lovely man, a true gentleman, and I’m forever grateful to him and even luckier to have known him. Godspeed, Arthur Novell; you were one of the good ones.














