Dee Dee Bridgewater
“To Billie With Love: A Celebration of ‘Lady Day’”
The Town Hall – June 24
Dee Dee Bridgewater is the most exciting jazz singer I know. Equally accomplished as a musician, vocalist, actress, and entertainer, she’s also the greatest all-round artist I know of performing in the jazz idiom. Not surprising, then, that her recent one-nighter at The Town Hall, a tribute to Billie Holiday presented as part of the month-long city-wide Blue Note Jazz Festival, should have been one of the most thoroughly rewarding musical evenings I’ve experienced in some time. Wearing a gold lamé dress, oversized gold pendant earrings, and flamboyant false eyelashes (the most extravagant I’ve seen since Birgit Nilsson played Princess Turandot at the Met) she commanded the stage the moment she entered—and never let it go until the end, when the audience reluctantly accepted the fact that the show was over.
What distinguished the enterprise was not only Bridgewater’s extraordinary performance, but also the contributions of the other musicians: musical director and arranger Edsel Gomez on piano, Kenny Davis on bass, Jaz Sawyer on drums, and Craig Handy on tenor- and soprano saxophone and flute. All elements—the arrangements, Bridgewater’s vocal interpretations, and even the instrumental solos—were of a piece. Too often, instrumentalists either use their solos to show off or simply make ineffective use of their time in the sun, and even when they honor the tenor of the vocalist’s vision, rarely have I seen them so eloquently reflect and explore those interpretations as these splendid musicians did.
At the start of “Good Morning Heartache” (Irene Higginbotham, Ervin Drake, Dan Fisher) the emotional state Bridgewater projected was, appropriately, dispirited, enervated by helpless resignation–which was echoed in the piano and sax solos. Then when she came in again, she was, astonishingly, even more worn down, and when she sang “might as well get used to you hanging around,” she was heartbreaking. By contrast, her rendition of “All of Me” (Seymour Simons, Gerald Marks) was enticingly exuberant, an attitude furthered by the bass, flute, and piano.
Throughout the evening, there was a fair amount of interplay between Bridgewater and the instruments. The blues “Fine and Mellow” (Billie Holiday) began with a bass solo, to which she reacted, delightfully, with various expressions of mock ecstasy, and the vocal featured a non-verbal conversation between Bridgewater and the sax, as well as Craig Handy’s superb sax solo. The charming “Your [My] Mother’s Son-in-Law” (Alberta Nichols, Mann Holiner) included a back-and-forth dialogue with the bass: Kenny Davis played a few bars, she listened and reacted, then he again and she again, then… Though not a word was said, the meaning was clear, and the exchange was enormously appealing.
Sometimes, Bridgewater’s take on songs was different from what one might be accustomed to hearing. Her interpretation of “Lover Man (Oh, Where Can You Be?)” (Jimmy Davis, Roger “Ram” Ramirez, Jimmy Sherman) was more sensual than most, placing greater emphasis on the pleasurable thought of what she’s been missing than on the sadness of being without it. Her rendition of “God Bless the Child” (Arthur Herzog, Jr., Billie Holiday) had an element of anger, which came out when she got to the lyric contending that when you no longer have money to spend, friends “won’t be ’round any more”—which she sang repeatedly, in insistent and rapid succession; it was memorable.
I wish that 95% of the singers who scat would please stop it and just sing the damned song. In their hands, it is a clichéd device, occasionally musically adept, but an unwelcome intrusion on the interpretation. Bridgewater, on the other hand, is not only in that other 5%, she is the greatest exponent of the form I know of. With her, scat becomes non-verbal communication, an organic part of the interpretation—whether she employs it playfully in a dialogue with one of the instruments or uses it to express an emotion or attitude. In her rendition of the Gershwins’ “A Foggy Day (in London Town),” scat conveyed the joy she discovered in London—as did Edsel Gomez’s dazzling piano solo and Jaz Sawyer’s ebullient, trippingly light extended drum solo. (To be sure, the drum solo was virtuosic, but I’ve heard wonderful drum work in the past; however, I don’t believe I ever heard a drum solo so expressive—and I’m certain this was the first one that made me cry.)
The evening closed with “Them There Eyes” (Maceo Pinkard, William Tracey, Doris Tauber), which was a complete joy—as was everything about Bridgewater’s performance that evening and everything about the other musicians’ work. Singers in all genres should study how Bridgewater approaches music, and many arrangers and instrumentalists could learn from Edsel Gomez & Co.
(One of the people who would benefit from studying Bridgwater is Chrisette Michele, who was the evening’s opening act. An R&B singer with an impressively agile voice, she was making her first professional foray into the world of jazz. Though she did fairly well with Billy Strayhorn’s “Take the ‘A’ Train,” imbuing the number with drive and energy, she served other classics—such as “Summertime” (Du Bose Heyward, George Gershwin) and Rodgers and Hart’s “My Romance”—ill, substituting vocal effects for interpretation, and with inadequate regard for the song’s lyric or intent. Included in her set were a couple of selections from her recordings; while these songs were inferior to the standard repertoire, her approach was better suited to them.)
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.