When the eager crowd (filled with its fair share of cabaret legends and stars) set foot into the original cabaret space at Don’t Tell Mama to see Randa McNamara’s Past, Present, Peculiarities, they had no idea they were in for the added treat of entering a time machine that would transport them to the glory days of ’70s and ’80s New York cabaret. The show was a throwback to the very roots of the art—a fine singer (McNamara sounding better than ever with the passage of time) and a great pianist (in this case, the always superb Paul Greenwood). Each brought their well-honed talents to bear on a stellar collection of songs, and revealed the artistry to be found in simplicity, passion, joy, and partnership. For their hour on the stage, I could not imagine another place I would rather have been.
Randa McNamara (Photo: Bob Four)
McNamara has always possessed an “Earth Mother” soulfulness that informs her material, whether it’s political, romantic, humorous, or storytelling. That unique and precious commodity filled the room from first moment to last. She opened with “Any Old Way” (Odetta Gordon), filled with a bluesy, rock-fed truth that did the heart good. In seconds, the audience was transfixed, and taken back to the heady, message-laden, days of the mid-20th century. Maybelle Carter’s “Ramblin’ Blues” cemented the singer’s role as our guide, our teacher, our healer, and our court jester on the journey she was offering to us. “Romance in the Dark” (Sam Coslow, Gertrude Niesen) has long been a favorite of mine, not the least of which because of its obvious intimations of gay romance. McNamara captured every provocative nuance of the piece. Greenwood’s playing had an unexpected depth and fire that surprised even this long-time fan. A medley of “Statue of Liberty” (McNamara, Alison Weiner) and “The Storm is Passing Over” (Charles Tindley) delighted with its hope-filled message of “…the truth can heal us all.” It was sung with such spirit, that the declaration seemed possible. A warm, touching version of one of her signature songs of yesteryear, Julie Gold’s beautiful “Heaven,” was the perfect follow-up.
The touching moments were balanced by the laughs; McNamara is hilarious, both in song and in patter. Her introduction to the fabulously funny original, “Fat Came Back,” was side-splitting, as she declared herself “Queen of the Food Chain.” In a stunning about-face, she then did “Sons Of” (Jacques Brel, Eric Blau) that lost none of the power it had when introduced in Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris and, in fact, gained some in the singer’s impassioned, yet mournful delivery. Daryl Kojak, who was in the audience, supplied the melody to McNamara’s heartfelt reminiscence of the woman who raised her in “Eula Mae.” It painted a picture etched in tears and gratitude.
(Photo: Michael Lee Stever)
As a call-back to the days of coffee houses and folk clubs, she passed not one, but two hats, for tips as she sang a rather perfunctory “If I Had a Hammer” (Pete Seeger) that was the only misstep of the show. Recovery came quickly with a pairing of “Humpty Dumpty Blues” (McNamara) and “Blues for Mother Goose” (Jeff Roux, McNamara) that was the evening’s comic highpoint, combining uproarious lyrics with a wickedly accurate parody of blues singing. Greenwood contributed great vocals, as he did throughout. From then on it was one golden moment after another with no letup, beginning with an infectiously swinging “Sail Away” (Noel Coward) in which she wisely included the rarely done verse. She transformed the song from one often connected with escape from misfortune into one of hopeful anticipation. A haunting, almost prayerful “May the Music Never End” (Artie Butler, Norman Martin) was exquisite and hushed the room with its beauty.
“Down Here on the Ground” (Lalo Schifrin, Gale Garnett), with its deep and dark self-realization, burst forth into the triumphant promise of “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” (Billy Taylor, Dick Dallas) and left the audience wishing that Randa McNamara would move back to NYC (her matchless partner in song, Paul Greenwood, is already here) so that they could replenish their spirits regularly by hearing her sing. As the audience tentatively joined in a sing-along encore of “Ol’ 55” (Tom Waits), there was a sense of community, of connection, that has become a precious commodity in the 21st century.
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Presented at Don’t Tell Mama, 343 W. 46th St,, NYC, April 21, 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?”
