We all developed our own unique coping mechanisms to deal with the results of the pandemic. Singer, songwriter, pianist Deidre Rodman Struck combatted the desolation of lockdown in a way that might have seemed obvious but was inspired by the suggestion of a friend. That friend suggested that she should sit down and write a song—just one song, even if it was a tiny song. That one song led to another, and another, and another, and eventually to her triumph over the loneliness and emptiness and disconnection that we all felt at that time. It also led to an album of the pieces she wrote in response that led in turn to her delightful new show, The Year of Lost and Found, which premiered recently at The Green Room 42.
Deirdre Rodman Struck
She entered the stage dressed in pajamas—not only an apt choice given the theme of the show, but a perfect introduction to the whimsy, the wink of the eye, and the intimacy of the time capsule that the audience was about to enter with her. She presented a veritable COVID song cycle for those “pandopian” times beginning with the inviting “My Condition” which revealed her quirky lyrics (most inspired by or lifted from her pandemic diary entries). That the opening song, “My Condition,” was unfinished seemed appropriate to the circumstances. An ode to the comfort and security of “Fuzzy Socks” evoked smiles and chuckles of recognition. On even the most innocuous numbers, Struck’s brilliance on the piano is evident—not flashy but offering a level of excitement all its own.
Next, she introduced her co-star for the evening, Byron Isaacs (of the Lumineers) who sometimes records and performs with her as the group Tiny Language; his distinct back-up vocals and his masterful bass added greatly to the evening’s success. Their voices, their playing, and their spirits blended beautifully. Describing the toll of quarantine on personal relationships, they sang a song that they wrote together, “Is It Too Late (To Still Be Friends),” a song that, with any justice, will have a life as a standard long after the pandemic has become a hard-to-believe memory. By the very nature of the evening’s set-up, all the songs shared a brevity which I wish had been forgone for this number. It was too good to stop.
There is a child-like element infused in most of the material, but the songs are not childish; rather they are meant for children of all ages. “Gratitude List” was just that, with the singer’s choices embellished by individual suggestions taken from the audience before the show, in the finest improv tradition. She managed (at times frantically) to fit in each and every one. “The Last Time I Wore a Bra” humorously captured the way social conventions went by the wayside as the world became our apartments, and our apartments became the world. “Grogu,” whom I surmised to be Baby Yoda thanks to the stuffed doll placed on the piano, was the one song that drifted over the line from child-like to childish. While it may have as much to do with my disinterest in the Star Wars universe as with any flaw in the song itself, I found it too cute by half.
Back on track was the lock-down escape of “Let’s Go to IKEA” which put the audience back on the gentle comedic high of most of the show. “Gallery Girl” (written with Isaacs) was the most contemporary sounding, radio-ready, of the selections and was a pop-perfect detour from the feel of the other songs. It also afforded a costume change for Struck who revealed a hip and glittering ensemble under her baggy PJ’s. “A List” was a hilarious (and completely recognizable) recounting of the bingeable shows that Netflix offered as refuge for the homebound. I marveled at how she sustained the audience’s interest and pleasure in list after list, but sustain she did, underlining the commonality of our experience while we were forcibly isolated from each other.
It was that commonality that turned out to be the sum and substance of The Year of Lost and Found. The more personal and unique the song subjects, the more we identified. When the show climaxed with “The Little Things” there was a collective catharsis as each person in the room silently contemplated their own little things in a moment of shared healing. I realize that I am perhaps imparting a heaviness to the proceedings that was never felt in the room; but in thinking about the show (and I have), I realized that this subtle and unspoken theme is what resonates with me.
Deidre Rodman Struck, along with her cohort, Byron Isaacs, presented a very special evening of story and song (and story in song) that had the audience laughing and remembering and feeling. The enthusiastic ovation of gratitude at the end was well-deserved.
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Presented at The Green Room 42, 570 Tennth Ave., April 10, 2024.
Gerry Geddes has conceived and directed a number of musical revues—including the Bistro- and MAC Award-winning "Monday in the Dark with George" and "Put On Your Saturday Suit-Words & Music by Jimmy Webb"—and directed many cabaret artists, including André De Shields, Helen Baldassare, Darius de Haas, and drag artist Julia Van Cartier. He directs "The David Drumgold Variety Show," currently in residence at Manhattan Movement & Arts Center, and has produced a number of recordings, including two Bistro-winning CDs. He’s taught vocal performance at The New School, NYU, and London’s Goldsmith’s College and continues to conduct private workshops and master classes. As a writer and critic, he has covered New York’s performing arts scene for over 40 years in both local and national publications; his lyrics have been sung by several cabaret and recording artists. Gerry is an artist in residence at Pangea, and a regular contributor to the podcast “Troubadours & Raconteurs.” He just completed a memoir of his life in NYC called “Didn’t I Ever Tell You This?”
