Barbara Elena Adamoli
Don’t Tell Mama – July 10, 11
In her first few numbers at Don’t Tell Mama, lyric coloratura soprano Barbara Elena Adamoli didn’t make a particularly positive impression. While the Verona, Italy-born singer demonstrated a sweet, sturdy voice that can flare with emotion, she seemed to connect neither with her audience nor with the songs she was singing. Nor was it clear why she sang what she sang. The program was built around show tunes, but Adamoli didn’t provide context to the material. Why have a theme at all if you don’t elucidate it? Adamoli’s patter centered on things like the day’s traffic and weather—the blandest sort of filler.
She opened with an Italian-language version of “A Spoonful of Sugar” (Robert B. & Richard M. Sherman) from Mary Poppins, relying on props that really didn’t enhance her performance: in the beginning of the number she brandished a feather duster, and later held what appeared to be a small, inert plastic bird. In most of her next few numbers, she did little more than stand on the stage, look into space, and vocalize sweetly.
But then came Jerry Herman’s “Time Heals Everything” (from Mack and Mabel). Adamoli—who wore a headset microphone throughout the evening—sat and sang, quietly and effectively. Immediately, I perked up. On this number the singer seemed somehow at one with the song. She communicated with ease and sensitivity the heartbreaking futility in Herman’s lyrics. For the first time she seemed to sing to her listeners rather than at them.
As the evening progressed, the appeal of Adamoli’s voice became clearer. She fluctuated comfortably between a legit sound and a more pop-ish quality. At times during the program, she called to mind the sprightly yet vigorous sound of a young Anna Maria Alberghetti.
And yet, during the rest of the evening, the erratic staging and the lack of nuance in the musical interpretations worked against her talents. She showed little rapport with her pianist/arranger Lanny Meyers (who was unaccountably also billed as “conductor”); there seemed to be little communication between the two of them. Toward the end of the show, she brought on a male cohort for two numbers. The young fellow did not sing, but acted in pantomime as a foil for her; he mounted a stick horse, and he even appeared—most uncomfortably—in drag, for Adamoli’s encore, “Sisters” from White Christmas (Irving Berlin). This song—ordinarily a duet—proved a singularly odd selection for a closer.
In spite of everything that didn’t work, Adamoli demonstrated an appealingly chatty, fun-loving, sometimes amusingly self-deprecating stage presence. She could truly use the strong hands of a good director—someone who could help her select a coherent program, sculpt her vocal interpretations with care, and develop patter that doesn’t short-circuit itself. Such a pro could steer her away from self-sabotaging moves (not waiting for the applause to subside before speaking to the audience, leading the crowd in a sing-along rendition of “Why Do I Love You?” (George and Ira Gershwin, B.G. DeSylva) that goes on for at least two unnecessary choruses).
Time alone may not heal everything, but with time and the right guidance, Barbara Elena Adamoli could, I believe, be not only a fresh-voiced singer but also a sensitive and nuanced musical interpreter.
About the Author
Mark Dundas Wood is an arts/entertainment journalist and dramaturg. He began writing reviews for BistroAwards.com in 2011. More recently he has contributed "Cabaret Setlist" articles about cabaret repertoire. Other reviews and articles have appeared in theaterscene.net and clydefitchreport.com, as well as in American Theatre and Back Stage. As a dramaturg, he has worked with New Professional Theatre and the New York Musical Theatre Festival. He is currently literary manager for Broad Horizons Theatre Company.