Rose Theater, Jazz at Lincoln Center  –  October 17, 18, 19

Gala Opening Night  –  by Mark Dundas Wood

The gala opening night of the Mabel Mercer Foundation’s 23rd New York Cabaret Convention—directed expertly by Rick Meadows—contained a number of bright, lively and even cheeky moments. But the festive character of the event was tempered throughout with bittersweet remembrances of a departed friend. Performers and attendees alike experienced their first convention without Donald Smith, the founder and Executive Director of the Foundation, who died in March of this year. While the physical absence of Smith was lamented, his spirit was invoked repeatedly throughout the evening. His name seemed never far from anyone’s lips.

Hosting the evening was KT Sullivan, the Foundation’s new Artistic Director. She opened with an apt medley of songs. The very title of the first selection in the grouping (“Don’t Let a Good Thing Get Away”) could be read as underscoring the importance of carrying on a valued tradition in the face of loss and change, while the other selections (“The Best Is Yet to Come” and “On the Sunny Side of the Street”) seemed to announce Sullivan’s own commitment to moving optimistically forward.

Many of the evening’s performers spoke about how they were encouraged personally and professionally by Smith. It became clear as the evening progressed how wide-ranging his appreciation for talent was. There were traditional performers like Sullivan, Valerie Lemon, and pianist/singer Barbara Carroll (who offered her classic version of “You Fascinate Me So”). But there were also performers with alternative approaches.

Tony DeSare, Gregory Generet, and Catherine Russell represented the jazzier side of cabaret. Generet’s full-voiced, languid “Embraceable You” was a highlight, along with Russell’s honeyed “You Go to My Head.” On the folky side of the equation was the elegant Lauren Fox, performing assured versions of Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock” and Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.”

The performance artist’s place in cabaret seemed to be represented by Emily Bergl, who offered a wild concoction: a meditation on telecommunication that began with the fin-de-siècle rouser “Hello, Ma Baby” and proceeded to Rufus Wainwright’s “Vibrate.”

Even country music was included in the program, with KT Sullivan’s brother Tim pinch-hitting for an absent Edward Hibbert. In his first song, which mentioned 100 of his greatest musical influences, Sullivan dropped the names of two Porters: Wagoner and Cole. (Would many other Nashville-oriented singers be able to name a single song by Cole Porter—even the rural-friendly “Don’t Fence Me In”—let alone list him as a significant influence?) Sullivan then led a sing-along of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land,” a title not exactly renowned as a staple of Manhattan cabaret. The crowd participated gamely.

Two standouts were Amanda McBroom and Amra-Faye Wright. McBroom gave a nod of sorts to the political dimensions of cabaret by singing a song that waxed nostalgic for the good old days of Monica Lewinsky. She noted Smith’s advice to her when she first made the transition from folk-rock to bistro singing: “You’re in cabaret—go buy rhinestones immediately.” The animated Wright delighted the crowd with a brassy turn on “Good Little Girls (Go to Heaven!).”

The Cabaret Convention is also the occasion for presentation of special awards. Given the Noël Coward Cabaret Award, Jeff Harnar recalled how Smith first helped him branch into singing Coward: by telling him he would soon be on the bill for a program featuring that writer’s songs. “I don’t have a show,” Harnar protested. “Now you will,” replied Smith. Harnar delivered an irreverent Coward “meditation”—a poem called “The Awakening.” Then he turned serious with a lovely performance of Coward’s “Sail Away” that set sail in tender fashion and became more emotionally robust as the voyage proceeded.

Cabaret legend Julie Wilson was on hand to help present the award in her name to Shana Farr, who sang a rich version of “Crazy World” from Victor/Victoria.

A fine choice to close the evening was Mark Nadler, whose tender rendition of the Gershwins’ “Love Is Here to Stay” marked the cabaret community’s devotion to the element that keeps the genre alive: the evolving and expanding Great American Songbook itself.

Salute to Cole Porter  –  by Kevin Scott Hall

The second night of the Convention was devoted solely to the songs of Cole Porter—a fitting tribute to Donald Smith since Porter was his favorite songwriter. Of the three shows, this one arguably had the cast with the most recognizable names. In this well-paced evening, the stars pretty much lived up to their star billing.

KT Sullivan introduced the evening’s hosts, the ever-youthful Jeff Harnar and the enticing Andrea Marcovicci, shimmering in a skin-tight silver gown. The two launched into a playful rendition of “Let’s Do It,” which seemed to cue those who followed to give spirited renditions as well. Even through the ballads, the energy never really flagged—and that has not always been the case with Cabaret Convention marathon shows. I’ll highlight some of the evening’s most memorable moments.

Steve Ross, with a 50-year-career under his belt, was the first guest. He sat at the piano and gave a vibrant performance of “It’s De-Lovely,” displaying his aptitude for creative phrasing. Next up, Colleen McHugh, looking regal, turned “I Happen to Like New York” into a stirring anthem. Even so, her comedic chops are always at the ready, and her sarcastic delivery of the lyric “Last Sunday afternoon, I took a trip to Hackensack/But after I gave Hackensack the once over, I took the next train back” hit the mark.

Sumptuously rich vocals followed with the one-two-three punch of Ann Hampton Callaway, T. Oliver Reid, and Jennifer Sheehan. A nice entry in the show was “I Gaze in Your Eyes,” a lyric of Porter’s that Callaway had put music to (the only collaboration with Porter ever sanctioned by his estate). She then introduced Reid with an impromptu song about him. Reid continues to grow as a solo artist, and he added some theatrical pizzazz to “Do I Love You?” before a sensual reading of “Night and Day,” in which the heavenly Sheehan, in a white gown, stood off to the side before gliding onto the stage to dance with Reid and duet with him on the vocal. Her solo on “In the Still of the Night” demonstrated to this reviewer that she has the loveliest voice of the younger generation of female cabaret performers.

While “Love for Sale” may have seemed an odd choice for the delicate and girlish Maude Maggart, she pitched much of the song in her seldom-heard and surprisingly firm alto range, which helped give the performance a haunting, world-weary coloring. Pianist and singer Billy Stritch was unusually low-key, but he delivered serviceable renditions of “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and “I Get a Kick Out of You,” before introducing crowd favorite Marilyn Maye, who belted out “Anything Goes” with her usual moxie. Pianist-singer Daryl Sherman proved to be a winning storyteller, and with her ingratiating Betty Boop voice, delivered a samba-like version of “Look What I Found.”

Anna Bergman gave a dramatic reading of “I Am in Love” before duetting with Todd Murray on “So in Love.” Murray was even better on “Don’t Fence Me In,” giving it a languorous, “post-coital” (as he put it) spin that was both clever and humorous. Glamorous club veteran Karen Akers showed she still has the goods, with a conversational “I Love Paris,” working the audience with her fearless eye contact. Co-host Harnar one-upped almost everybody with his flawless rendition of “Can-Can,” with its rapid-fire pace and hard-to-memorize lyrics. Undaunted, he got through it with panache and joy.

The evening’s final performance was by Clint Holmes, who reprised a portion of his excellent Cole Porter/Paul Simon show that played at the Café Carlyle earlier this year. His thoughtful medley of “Feelin’ Groovy” (Simon) and “It’s De-Lovely” was pure delight. Holmes always surprises with his unpredictable but honest acting choices. He closed with a triumphant “You’re the Top” that earned him an extended ovation.

Throughout the proceedings, Alex Rybeck and Don Rebic ably handled most of the piano chores, with Daniel Fabricant on bass and Sherrie Maricle on drums. The evening, which offered a good mix of styles by performers doing very fine work, should be remembered favorably by regular convention-goers and new fans alike.

Thanks for the Memory  –  by Roy Sander

While the entire three-night Convention was a celebration of Donald Smith, the theme of the final evening, “Thanks for the Memory,” was an explicit expression of gratitude to him, with several of the performers telling how Smith had helped them. Klea Blackhurst hosted the event, and I can’t imagine anyone doing a better job. Whether warmly and enthusiastically introducing the guest artists, bantering with performers, or speaking of Smith’s strongly-held beliefs—such as his very strict views on how performers should dress on stage and his proscription against ever changing a pronoun in a lyric—she was spontaneous, genuine, funny, sometimes touching, and unfailingly charming. Daniel Fabricant provided bass accompaniment for many of the evening’s performers—very fine, indeed.

The performances, however, were not so consistently wonderful. More specifically, the quality of the first half of the program was markedly lower than what the second act delivered; fortunately, it was also shorter.

Mind you, there were some admirable turns early on. Blackhurst opened with an energetic rendition of “Blow, Gabriel, Blow” that got the proceedings off in high gear, after which KT Sullivan presented her with The First Annual Donald F. Smith Award. Accompanied by Nate Buccieri, Carole J. Bufford scored solidly with her two numbers: “What Did I Have That I Don’t Have”—increasingly big but smartly controlled, so the intensity of her feelings came across more potently than if she’d adopted a hit-’em-on-the-head approach; and a deliciously naughty “The Right Key but the Wrong Keyhole.” Bufford should be booked at the Persian Room or the Maisonette. Yes, I do know they’re no longer around.

William Blake closed the first half with two songs from his Etta James show: “A Sunday Kind of Love” and “I’d Rather Go Blind.” [From its title, I expected the second song to be a paean to masturbation. It isn’t.] If you closed your eyes, you’d swear you were listening to a black blues singer, and aurally, Blake does an excellent imitation/recreation of one. However, as remarkable as he is vocally, I had difficulty buying the entire package.

But there were more serious first-act problems. From Chicago, Beckie Menzie and Tom Michael did a pairing of songs from Porgy and Bess in an arrangement that ignored the meaning and context of the songs, followed by “The Windmills of Your Mind,” with Menzie and Michael alternating not whole lines, but individual phrases within lines—a distracting and annoying device. In general, they seemed more interested in playing with the music than in communicating the lyric. (Sounded nice, though, but only in an abstract way.)

Even people I like a lot did not turn in their best work. Nicolas King, whose stage presence and ability to style a song belie his young age, shot himself in the foot with crappy song choices. His two selections were both about New York: the first was filled with clumsy references to city landmarks; the second paid homage to the Algonquin Roundtable, substituting name-dropping for a true evocation of what the Roundtable represented. To make matters worse, the song’s celebration of Roundtable wit and sophistication was at odds with King’s manifest youthful innocence and good-natured, aw shucks persona—rather like a kid playing dress-up in his father’s evening clothes while his parents are away. Lee Roy Reams is the quintessential Broadway song-and-dance man, but his performance of “It’s Today,” while bright, seemed manic rather than effervescent. His “Don’t Blame Me” was fairly sensitive, but an element of self-awareness prevented it from being as persuasive as his ballad singing can be.

By contrast, the second part of the evening went pretty much from triumph to triumph. Karen Mason opened with a jubilant rendition of “Almost Like Being in Love.” Though I’ve heard her perform this many, many times, I would gladly listen to her sing it many, many more times. She followed this with “It’s About Time,” a lovely song written by Shelly Markham and Paul Rolnick for her to sing at a wedding. It would be touching sung at any wedding; however, knowing that the occasion was a same-sex marriage gave the title lyric an intended double meaning and made the song that much more poignant.

Christine Andreas, who was presented with the Mabel Mercer Award, turned in two glorious performances: “The Summer Knows,” which with Don Rebic’s atmospheric piano accompaniment became an art song, and “Milord,” which Andreas both sang and acted superbly. Then Craig Rubano sang “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” and “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” I’d never before seen him sing with such simple, unaffected, deeply felt emotion; it was the evening’s most moving moment. The always wonderful Sidney Myer delighted with his dry delivery of “I’m in Training for You,” a 1930 ditty that shamelessly offers no end of excuses and no apologies for infidelity, which he followed with an uncommonly sweet and appealing “The Bare Necessities.” He can do so much with a small hand gesture or the slightest movement of his body. It’s been too long since he’s performed an entire show. Far too long.

Natalie Douglas killed with a powerhouse rendition of “I Put a Spell on You” and an exquisitely sung “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” with Mark Hartman’s piano at one with Douglas’s singing: dazzling on the first song and delicate on the second. Jim Caruso performed “A Shine on Your Shoes” with his characteristic light, breezy charm and with a cute vocal-piano dialogue with Alex Rybeck at the keys, followed by a short mock ballad with a comic punchline. Was it me, or was his sparkle not quite as bright as it usually is? I know there was nothing lacking in his winning between-songs interplay with Blackhurst.

Blackhurst closed the show in fine style with a life-embracing pair of songs: “While I Still Have the Time,” from “The Nutty Professor,” a new musical in which she recently appeared in Nashville to great acclaim (score by Marvin Hamlisch and Rupert Holmes), and Jerry Herman’s “Before the Parade Passes By.”