Barb Jungr

April 18, 2012

“Man in the Long Black Coat”

Metropolitan Room – April 10 – 28

Most of my fellow critics have been going gaga over Barb Jungr. My reaction when I first saw her, in 2004, was mixed—and so it has remained over the course of several subsequent viewings, sometimes more positive than negative, other times the reverse. Her current show at the Metropolitan Room, an evening of Bob Dylan songs, continues the pattern.

It is fascinating to watch her sing. She immerses herself completely in every song, often perched on a stool with her arms and upper body moving constantly to the music, her face displaying an almost rapturous connection with the song in her head. However, while we, too, can hear the music, the song in her head frequently remains a private affair. We may be taken with her unflagging commitment to her material, but her interpretation does not always illuminate the song’s meaning.

Part of the problem is simply visual. All that moving-to-the-music is counter-interpretive, i.e., it detracts from our ability to focus on the lyric—as does her playing the rhythm egg shaker, which she does from time to time. Close your eyes to block out her back-and-forth rocking, and Jungr’s rendition of “Sara” is quite beautiful. Her reading of “Like a Rolling Stone” makes its fallen-from-grace lyric potent—if you ignore her body movement.

Why does she wear an unrelieved expression of glee throughout “Things Have Changed”? The words express disillusionment and nihilism; what interpretation of the lyric could possibly support so sunny a viewpoint? Mind you, Jungr might, indeed, have formulated such a premise, but if so, it remains inside her; communicating it to us would require a more nuanced rendition than she delivers. She tends to approach lyrics at the macro level rather examining them with phrase-by-phrase subtlety—whereas I submit that many Dylan songs are sufficiently complex or poetic to warrant a more granular exploration.

However, her approach can, indeed, be effective, and much in the show is excellent. Her total immersion in “I Want You” is grounded in something clear and song-appropriate: she’s lost in longing. And this time, even her rocking serves a purpose: it conveys dedication to that feeling and obliviousness to everything else around her. And she sings the song with affecting delicacy. With “Trouble in Mind”(from “Dylan’s gospel period”) she gets persuasively, wailingly down; and with its rue-tinged directness, her interpretation of “It Ain’t Me, Babe” strikes an emotional core. She turns “The Times They Are A-Changin’” into an insistent call to action, and “Forever Young” into an aggressive exhortation; while I miss the lyricism of the first song and the warmth of the second, both interpretations are strong and dramatically justified.

Her voice, a bright, rich alto with a resonant, rippling vibrato, both commands and attracts our attention. Her patter is intelligent, thoughtful, informative, quirky, witty, and funny—and altogether, quite wonderful; I think an hour of her holding forth on just about any subject would be delightful. Jungr is blessed to have Tracy Stark accompanying at the piano; I do believe Stark can do anything.

 

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About the Author

Roy Sander has been covering cabaret and theatre for over thirty years. He’s written cabaret and theatre reviews, features, and commentary for seven print publications, most notably Back Stage, and for CitySearch on the Internet. He covered cabaret monthly on “New York Theatre Review” on PBS TV, and cabaret and theatre weekly on WLIM-FM radio. He was twice a guest instructor at the London School of Musical Theatre. A critic for BistroAwards.com, he is also the site’s Reviews Editor; in addition, he is Chairman of the Advisory Board of MAC.