Review: Marilyn Maye

Here we have the songs of Johnny Mercer, one of the greatest writers of “The Great American Songbook,” sung by Marilyn Maye, one of greatest interpreters of that Songbook. That sounds like a great combination, doesn’t it? And indeed it is! Many years ago Ella Fitzgerald – who released a Mercer Songbook album in 1964 – called Marilyn Maye “the greatest white female singer in the world.”All these years later Ella’s remark is still no exaggeration.

I can think of no other living singer who possesses Maye’s combination of interpretive ability, rhythmic verve, and vocal range. Maye is a jazz-pop singer worthy of being included in the company of Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn or Blossom Dearie, and her phrasing is the finest I’ve heard in that style from a living singer.

This show – as always is the case with the marvelous Miss Maye – is heavy on the medleys. Here, they’re divided into themes that Mercer liked to write about, such as “Angels,” “Women’s Names,” “Autumn,” “Dream,” and even “Revenge.” Again as always, Maye and her music director Tedd Firth handle medleys with thoughtful storytelling and sophisticated jazz musicianship. Maye exquisitely tailors her singing style to the individual Mercer song, smooth for the ballads, swinging for the up-tempos, and truly gritty for the bluesier numbers. She almost growls for his “Blues In the Night”.

Maye appeared on Johnny Carson’s edition of “The Tonight Show” a total of 76 times, a record not likely ever to be beaten by any other singer with any other host. If you love classic songs like Mercer’s sung like they’re meant to be sung, it just doesn’t get any better than this. Highly Recommended.

For tickets, click here.

For more about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.wordpress.com.

The Village: A Disco Musical

Extended through Saturday October 22, The Village is at its most charmingwhen writing love letters to disco. Nora Burns’s comedy is subtitled A Disco Musical, and while it’s not technically a musical (precious little live singing) the constant flow of recorded disco – and really good disco at that – is what really propels it.

Set in 1979 New York City, The Village centers around Trade (Antony Cherrie), a hustler living in the apartment of an older gentleman, George (Cluck Blasius). He brings home his latest trick, Steve (Ever Chavez) a charming NYU student – a cute “twink,” though at the time the word was “chicken” – and the story is nominally about them falling into bed and then love. But, as the title suggests, this is really more the story of a community, the vibrant gay scene of the time, set against the grit and glamour of the Manhattan of that era. One of the stronger elements is Robin Carrigan’s lively choreography, reflecting with verve and musicality the show’s disco soundtrack.

While Burns’s script is packed with her usual acidly sarcastic humor, the structure is a bit, well, lumpy. There’s a lot of “fourth wall breaking” and much of it is clever, but in the end there’s way too much of it. It’s as though every character in a Deadpool movie were talking to the camera most of the time. It can get a little wearying. Also, while the initial idea of creating an Our Town for 1970s NYC was an ingenious one, like many “inspired by” shows, The Village stumbles when it hews too closely to its model, and gets a real lift when it leans into being its own frisky self.

Mostly, though, The Village is a sexy, goofy lark, executed by an attractive, energetic, committed and talented ensemble cast. Recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.wordpress.com.