CATCH-UP ON CABARET 01

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THE BOITE AND WHATNOT

When I’ve heard people talking about going to cabaret shows this month, I’ve most often hear them saying, “I’m going to see Marilyn Maye!” What I’m starting to hear quite commonly is that sentence with extra excitement and an extra word added on at the end of it: “I’m going to see Marilyn Maye again!” They don’t usually mean that they saw her last engagement a few months ago and are going because it’s a mostly different set of songs (which it is) but that they went this time and are going back before her final performance on Wednesday, April 16.

The entertainment factor and the feel-good factor are so strong with her super-high-energy, good-time show that some audience members have become so addicted that the attentive Metropolitan Room staff might consider a 12-step program. But don’t count on it. I’ve also heard the staff there, very used to talented singers night after night, rave about her as rabidly as the fans cheering for the Maye way of tearing into a song with such fond ferociousness. She’s cheering and cheered, rousing and revered; a good time is had by all thank to this good-time gal with a voice like a bugle, and dressed in bugle beads. ”There’s the kind of walk you walk when you feel like crowing,” goes to lyric to one of her new choices, “Walking Happy,” and she is crowing and glowing, owing to her celebration of her April birthday (a biggie like her smile) and a few other reasons to be especially happy. One is the swinging singer’s ongoing musical relationships with her partners in time: the trio with brio-- her drummer of over 40 years standing (well, sitting) Jim Eklof; newish-to-her bassist New Yorker Tom Hubbard; and Billy Stritch, whose smart arrangements, piano flair, banter, and a some vocal duets (like “Walking Happy”) are the yin to her yang (or the zing to her bang).

And the icing on Marilyn’s birthday cake was getting the Lifetime Achievement Award on April 7 at the BackStage Bistro Awards. The event, held at the attractive Gotham Comedy Club (which spawned the Metropolitan Room in an immaculate conception), was an evening chock full of faves and raves. Honorees voted on by a panel of judges (as of this year, now including those beyond those associated with the publication) were almost all present and performed. Many thanks to BackStage editor Sherry Eaker, also a cabaret lover (obvious from watching her joy during performances). In part, then, the night reflected the “taste of Sherry” (conveniently the name a Marilyn Maye album) but clearly the taste of the judges was often judged as wise, judged by prolonged applause given many acts. As major cabaret artist, Tony DeSare was thusly received for his singing, super piano solo, and gracious acceptance speech. The evening honored the many facets of cabaret entertainment--- European antecedents, razzamatazz, gender illusion (Arnaldo pulling off a switcheroo and puling out everything from 45 rpm records to a tennis racket from cleavage while singing). There was entertainment of almost every color: Pinky Winters, Ronny Whyte, and definitely some blue humor, and a song called “Something in Red,” by Marianne Challis epitomizing cabaret singing with emotion and telling a story through song with a beginning, middle and end.

One was definitely the performer billed as Poor Baby Bree. One of the most mesmerizing shows I’ve seen, I highly recommend it. She’ll be back at Don’t Tell Mama this Thursday, April 17 and again on May 21. She creates her own startling long-ago world that is quite eerie (in the best way possible), singing songs that are old and odd (in the best way possible). Dressed in her ragged dress, like an orphan or old rag doll left at the doorstep or a sister of The Little Match Girl crooning novelty songs she heard while lingering just outside an old vaudeville theatre and imagining the dance steps, she’s agile, fragile, and fascinating. Very theatrical and very emotional, the show (oh, it feels odd to call it a “show”) also provides a wealth of material that turns up as rarely as one turns the handle of an old Victrola. And she can handle them all, even when audiences are not initially sure how to take this rare Twilight Zone flashback into a time that might be only slightly familiar. Winning as “Unique Artist” at the Bistros, she’s all the more evidence that cabaret includes a little bit of everything and a blending of things.

Speaking of blends, take one part cabaret and one part jazz and you get Jazzaret, also the name of the open-mic night being reprised at The Reprise Room at Dillon’s at 245 West 54^th Street, getting a reputation for eclecticism in its bookings, too (this month has seen not justcabaret shows but revues like the currently-running Ziegfeld Midnight Frolics 2008 with songs from The Ziegfeld Follies and Back To The Movies, both major productions with large casts, including those with Broadway credits). Jazzaret’s first night showed the wisdom of the concept of having a blend beyond that of jazz and cabaret: the blend of the planned and the unplanned. Trusting to pot luck can be risky even for church suppers. But audiences will be glad to know that a pretty good night will be in the cards at this series--- not just relying on the luck of the draw, the deck is stacked in their favor. Established singers commit to participating in addition to the wild card possibilities of the show-up-and-sign-up open mic policy. Regulars at other open mic nights recognized some regulars at other open mic nights, and a few surprises and drop-ins and new faces are part of the picture. (Why not try it next Saturday, April 19 from 9:30 p.m. to 12:30 a.m.?) The reliably versatile, ready-for-anything ace Barry Levitt Trio is on hand to accompany the jazzy and cabaret types and the hybrids. A high point for me was the superb singer Lynn Loosier bringing the room to a spellbound hush and taking command of the stage and songs, her two samples both from the first of her three excellent albums. Performing for the first time since throat surgery, John De Marco made a welcome return to an enthusiastic reception, with his elegant manner and style, but with plenty of real feeling sealing the deal where the effect is a combo of polish and transmitted emotion. These two are pros in ways my prose can’t praise sufficiently in this limited space. New to me was a guy named Zachary Mordechai. This son of a gun who is the son of a rabbi is a manic madcap. He was the electric jolt wake-up call late, late in the night with his fearlessly frantic energy. Literally jumping all over the stage, this comic character crackerjack jack-in-the-box is a daredevil, devil-may-care addition to the New York scene. It’s all part of the anything goes/everything goes goings-on experienced in cabaret-going that I am going to report on in this ongoing series of columns. And now I must be going myself.

Off to the next cabaret.