
Introduction
Barry Manilow, adored worldwide for his music and gentle spirit, spent decades guarding a deeply personal truth. For nearly 40 years, behind the fame, bright lights, and seemingly effortless smiles, he kept quiet about the man he loved. Only recently has he chosen to share that love story openly.
“Everyone knows we’re a team,” Barry once said. “I’ve always been private… I never wanted people to know even the names of those close to me.”
Today, he’s finally letting the world in—revealing the long, hidden relationship between him and Garry Kief.
Early Life and Roots

Before he became the Barry Manilow celebrated across generations, he was born on June 17, 1943, in Brooklyn, New York, as Barry Alan Pincus. His upbringing blended Irish and Jewish heritage, shaped by stories from Russia and Ireland and marked by early emotional challenges.
His parents separated when he was a baby, and his mother’s family severed contact with his father soon afterward. That absence stayed with Barry throughout childhood.
Just before his bar mitzvah, his grandfather changed the family’s surname to Manilow, unknowingly creating the name that would later shine on marquees around the globe.
Growing up in Williamsburg, Barry felt the pull of music long before he understood where it would lead him. After graduating from Eastern District High School in 1961, he briefly married his teenage sweetheart, Susan Deixler—a youthful romance that ended quickly but remained a tender memory.
He then chased his true calling at the New York College of Music, supporting himself with a job at CBS. Later at Juilliard, surrounded by artists as passionate as he was, Barry sharpened his craft and prepared for greatness.
Breakthrough and the Hidden Turmoil
In 1964, Barry’s career shifted when he met CBS director Bro Herrod. Asked only to arrange songs for a stage production, Barry instead composed an entirely original score—so impressive it powered the show for eight years Off-Broadway.
Around this time, he entered the world of commercial jingles—creating iconic tunes for State Farm, McDonald’s, Pepsi, Band-Aid, Dr. Pepper, and more. These short melodies, often overlooked by the public, became training for Barry’s gift: crafting melodies that stick with you.
By the late ’60s and early ’70s, he was arranging for WCBS, composing for TV, recording under the name Featherbed with Tony Orlando, and performing in New York clubs. But his quietly growing reputation exploded in 1971 when Bette Midler heard him perform. She hired him as her pianist at the legendary Continental Baths, and soon he became her producer, musical director, and trusted creative partner.
Barry earned a Grammy nomination for producing The Divine Miss M—a milestone that finally put his name in the spotlight.
Bell Records then signed him as a solo artist, releasing Barry Manilow in 1973. It included the touching “I Am Your Child” and a soulful reinterpretation of “Could It Be Magic,” which later inspired versions by Donna Summer and Take That.
Yet while his public career soared, a private struggle—his sexual orientation—shadowed his success.
The Beginning of a Hidden Love Story
In 1978, during a casual gathering in Los Angeles, Barry met Garry Kief, a charismatic TV executive from Houston. Garry had already seen him perform, but for Barry, meeting Garry felt instantly meaningful—almost fated.
Garry soon became both Barry’s manager and his life partner. Barry often described him as the smartest, calmest, and most capable person he’d ever known—a grounding presence in a world of chaos.
But the relationship remained secret.
At the time, being openly gay—especially as a superstar cherished by female fans—could have devastated his career. So Barry and Garry built their life in silence. To the public, Barry appeared alongside actress Linda Allen, who even lived with them for a time to help maintain the facade.
Behind closed doors, they shared a home, responsibilities, joy, and struggles, but they could never openly show affection. Barry feared losing everything if the truth came out.
Even property ownership was disguised. When Barry bought a Palm Springs mansion, he placed it under Linda’s name to avoid suspicion.
Decades passed like this—loving one another, yet invisible to the world.
Their Secret Wedding
After nearly 40 years together, everything changed in 2014 when same-sex marriage became legal in California. Quietly, privately, inside their Palm Springs home, Barry and Garry finally married. No publicity, no audience—just a moment of truth shared between two men who had waited a lifetime.
But the secret didn’t last. In 2015, close friend Suzanne Somers publicly revealed their marriage, shocking fans everywhere. Barry, after years of dodging questions, could no longer hide.
Barry Finally Speaks

In 2017, Barry opened his heart in an emotional interview with People magazine. He admitted the fear that had followed him for decades—the fear that fans, especially women, would turn their backs on him.
Instead, something surprising happened.
The world embraced him.
Fans flooded him with love, support, and admiration. For Barry, the relief was overwhelming. He later said the outpouring of kindness felt like a blessing he’d never expected.
Yet he also carried regret—wishing he had been brave enough to live openly earlier in life.
Now, at peace, he openly shares stories about daily life with Garry in Palm Springs—quiet mornings, shared routines, laughter, and their beloved dogs. After years of silence, he finally takes pride in being honest.
A Symbol of Change
Barry’s journey reflects the changing world around him. In the ’70s, coming out could end a career. Today, his courage helps others step forward without fear.
Even long before he publicly embraced his identity, Barry was quietly supporting the LGBTQ community—performing at early AIDS benefit concerts, donating song proceeds to advocacy groups, featuring real diverse families in his music videos, and giving generously (and anonymously) to organizations offering housing, support, and crisis prevention.
He paid funeral expenses for performers lost to the AIDS epidemic, funded young artists, fought for fair treatment of musicians in Congress, and uplifted marginalized voices—never asking for recognition.
His compassion ran deeper than the public ever knew.
A Legacy Beyond the Music
Barry Manilow’s life is not just a story of fame but of resilience, love, and long-awaited freedom. He shows that real happiness comes not from applause but from living truthfully.
Today, fans no longer see just the polished entertainer. They see a man who carried fear, endured pain, loved quietly, and ultimately chose honesty.
His story stands as a reminder:
Love is universal.
Everyone deserves acceptance.
And it is never too late to be yourself.
