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If you're looking for a few pots of musical gold, try these new recordings from stars of Broadway and cabaret. Broadway star Chita Rivera's cabaret act is now a CD. Then, including one song from its score, Finian's Rainbow revival's leading lady Kate Baldwin has her first solo CD. Her co-star, Cheyenne Jackson, includes one of their ballads on the CD he shares with cabaret king Michael Feinstein, based on their own recent duo nightclub show. Ladies first:
What becomes a legend most? Sympathetic arrangements and a rare solo album. Collectors might have thought from a quick glance that And Now I Swing was a typo, meaning that this was a reissue of And Now I Sing! from 46 years ago, one of Chita's two solo efforts from the dear, dusty days of vinyl record albums. One can't expect the same kind of vocal power after nearly half a century, but there's still plenty of star power evident, and acting chops are strong, with thoughtful, involved phrasing on ballads and here and there some sass. The Rivera singing voice retains its distinctive personality, there's a familiar mix of grit and wit, a joie de vivre, and a few appearances of that rueful laugh fans will recognize. The word "Swing" in the title is mostly misleading, as it's not mainly about finger-snapping, getting into a music-driven groove and, to borrow a borrowed phrase from a song she did in Chicago, all that jazz. But we do get Chicago's "Nowadays," sung with some jazzy, pizzazzy flair, if more low-key and less driving. It's one of three times she draws from the rich well of Kander & Ebb, the team who brought her some of her Broadway triumphs. From one of their shows she was not in, The Happy Time, Chita recalls "I Don't Remember You," letting us see the heartbreak and truth behind that denial. The Visit's "Love and Love Alone," full of life philosophy and perspective about the cumulative heart-hardening that comes from romantic love's often short shelf life, also has a sense of carpe diem for the ephemeral good times. One of the highlights of the CD, it's also a treasure that makes one wish there were a cast recording of this show, which starred Chita and played Chicago and Washington, D.C.. On a CD filled with low-key ballads and songs requiring rumination, rather than razzle-dazzlers, there are two tracks with more zing and zip. Both are medleys. There's some feistiness and fun in the combo platter of "I Won't Dance" and "Let Me Sing (And I'm Happy)" and a brisk, bravura Brazilian double bill with "Sweet Happy Life" and "Mas Que Nada." These shots of adrenalin and jolts of joy, thankfully, brighten and lighten the brew. Other tracks offer more quiet, pensive readings that aren't as rewarding; I wished there were more presence of that turbulent "anger, hope and doubt" the lyric refers to in "Where Am I Going?" This number from Sweet Charity, part of the rich Rivera resume (stage and screen), comes off as mostly defeated and deflated, talk-sung for stretches. Sure, it might make sense but isn't as well crafted as angst or confusion. But the tender side of the star can be undeniably effective and rings true, as in her caring reading of Carol Hall's gentle ode to a "Circle of Friends." There's a real-feel warmth throughout, even when she's not fiery or full of red-hot heat as we so often saw her in the past. There is something to be said for the subtle glow of embers, too. Although the voice is here or there not prominent enough in the interesting and varied arrangements and orchestrations, there are interesting and evocative musical settings. It's a relief not to have the Jacques Brel "Carousel" be fraught and frazzled too early as a relentless maelstrom of madness. The accompaniment gives us a more literal carousel calliope, with the actress evoking one wishing to hold on for dear life to the childlike joy and delight as things threaten to spin and spin out of control. Any go-round with Chita Rivera is one worth taking and treasuring. Come along for the ride.
Starring in Finian's Rainbow on Broadway right now, and before that for the Encores! production, has brought Kate Baldwin to that score by composer Burton Lane and lyricist/co-librettist E. Y. ("Yip") Harburg. And it's a happy happening to find that she was thus inspired to use their work, together or (for the most part) with other top-drawer collaborators, for her solo CD debut. And rather than just the most obvious possibilities and frequently-recorded songs, there are some inspired moments in this Yip trip and memory Lane memory-joggers. It's also another example of a classy musical marriage by PS Classics with a contemporary theatre voice matched to its wonderfully reliably thoughtful, skillful instrumentalists and designers (orchestrators and arrangers) who have proven their mettle and magic—such people as Broadway maestros Jonathan Tunick and Rob Berman (not-so-coincidentally musically helming things for Finian's Rainbow), Sam Davis, Georgia Stitt, Jason Robert Brown and Joseph Thalken, plus marvelous string work by Antoine Silverman on violin, Clay Ruede on cello and harpist Grace Paradise, with colors and moods enhanced by a slew of swell reed players. Without the end result feeling like a mishmosh, the mixing and matching of many elements into a whole is a success for skilled and sensitive producer Tommy Krasker. He oversees a large number of talents and sounds from track to track (15 in all) and songs of many moods, written originally for characters from varied plots and perspectives. So dreamy is the one included fine Finian favorite, "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?"—naturally phrased, fresh, fetching and full of wistful elegance and longing, it shines and glimmers. And how are things elsewhere? Mostly delightful and successful and sweet, with a few spots of playful humor. Let's look first at the three other songs written by Lane and Harburg together: Kate has fun with the cute sympathy for her beloved in "Poor You"—("you'll never feel your warmth/ you're never in your arms")—a breezy Joshua Rosenblum orchestration. There's sincerity and grace in the can't-place-the-face reflection about a déjà-vu moment, "Where Have I Seen Your Face Before?" (Joel Fram's lovely, understated less-is-more orchestration). There's a warmth that radiates through this rarely done song which happens to again drop the name of that made-up place called Glocca Morra as one of the possible answers to the titular query. Lastly, there's the last track, "The World in My Arms," from the 1940 score of Hold On to Your Hats, another that plays to Kate's strong suit of expressing unjaded joy in believing in—and living in—romantic contentment. For me, the disappointment factor comes up with just two or three songs where I think the Baldwin approach as actress is to not dig in enough to potential strong feelings. She seems to be skimming the surface rather than diving into the deeper emotional pools. "Paris Is a Lonely Town" (Harburg with a would-be mournful melody by Harold Arlen) knows little of the song's potential despair and seems almost matter-of-factly reported rather than experienced. That's a missed opportunity; in choosing songs from the many possibilities, she otherwise eschews the blues and pain (or any of Harburg's witty wordplay or satire via societal/political commentary, both important parts of his output and legacy). Two songs from On a Clear Day You Can See Forever don't see their full potential, but are less problematic as would-have/could-haves in this way: "Come Back to Me" is light but misses a chance for exploring its frustration or determination; and "He Wasn't You" (originally "She Wasn't You") has an intrinsic elegance, but it also has some feelings about disappointing affairs of the past and grand passion that are just touched on here. (These are not the vastly different movie lyrics which made the song a sorrowful comparison with a present mate, for "He Isn't You.") Luckily, the loveliness of melody line, voice and orchestra are substantial compensations. There are many pleasures here: the delicious exuberance of the rarely heard "Have Feet, Will Dance" (Lane with Dorothy Fields); the spoken inserts in "I Like the Likes of You" that are actually brief quotes from other Harburg lyrics; and numerous bursts of crisp refreshment and joy from individual instrumentalists who stand out. Two of the most satisfying tracks feature songs from Darling of the Day: "That Something Extra Special" (which, yes, it is) and the song that gives the album its title. The latter is combined with a number from the film Royal Wedding, "Open Your Eyes." This mostly happy album is one I think most lovers of musicals will be happy to add to their collections and I'm happy to strongly recommend it for its strengths.
Released this week on Election Day, my vote goes to this sure winner: the powerful The Power of Two. The two in question might strike you as an odd couple but the odds are in their favor: veteran of many albums on his own, Michael Feinstein teams up on disc with Cheyenne Jackson (as they did in one of the year's highlights among cabaret acts, from whence this material is drawn). But it's an impressive debut for Mr. Jackson's first disc singing as Cheyenne Jackson rather than as a character on cast albums. He shows great charisma, energy, vocal stamina and versatility. And Mr. Feinstein ain't chopped liver, of course. But Cheyenne is striking and impressive, displaying more maturity and sensitivity than his recorded theatre roles have allowed him to show. Singing together, they create sparks and bring out the best in each other, as they seemingly enjoy the challenge of venturing beyond what we know to be their musical comfort zones. If there is a point of disappointment, it's that the majority of the tracks are not duets. But the very good news is there are very good solos that also satisfy, and highlights aplenty. There is a strong gay-positive identity on the album, presented with pride and confidence, not preachiness or melodrama. In the fine Feinstein tradition, it's a class act, as was their act at the Park Avenue supper club that bears his name and where he will be having an extended engagement next month. Marshall Barer's quietly forceful "The Time Has Come," written as a reflection on the Stonewall Riots that began the Gay Pride movement, is one of Michael's solos, delivered with earnestness and clarity. This persuasive entreaty, with music by Michael "Mickey" Leonard, has Michael as the pianist—one of five tracks where he's at the keyboard. When he reprises one of his standbys which he recorded long ago, Cryer and Ford's "Old Friend," he now plainly sings the original lyric about lamenting the break-up of a relationship but getting support from the platonic pal who "wonders at my taste in men." In the past, he's opted for the elusive, weaker "my taste in friends" (that also made for a false rhyme with "You'll do it again.") More prominently, Cheyenne keeps the references male when singing about the desire for "Someone to Watch Over Me." The vulnerability in the performance and the sweetness of tone are worthy of reveling in. And when the two combine two songs of longing from The King and I, it's dramatic and moving. Those songs are the two originally written for the characters of the separated lovers Tuptim and Lun Tha in the classic musical: "We Kiss in a Shadow" and "I Have Dreamed." As the two men find harmonies and hope for dreams fulfilled of coming out (of the shadows, for one thing), singing "Behold how my lover loves me," indeed the "power of two" is passionately, pridefully powerful. Cheyenne reprises a number from the Elvis Presley catalogue—a serious, surefire one—he did in Broadway's All Shook Up, shaking things up with "If I Can Dream" and taking Feinstein along for the climactic ride. It ups the stakes again and is a knockout, building terrifically. They also duet on the CD's title song, a very appealing non-fluff pop song previously recorded by The Indigo Girls as well as by Broadway leading man Howard McGillin. There are delicious moments putting drama aside for side-by-side musical comedy jubilation and sparkle. A reworking of City of Angels' clever duet of aggravation and co-dependence for a writer and his protagonist, "You're Nothing Without Me," with the zip of David Zippel's wit becomes the mutual admiration cascade of compliments, the self-effacing, bracing "I'm Nothing Without You." It's big singing with big notes and brims with go-for-gusto ebullience, and one welcomes the reprise later in the proceedings. Also grand fun is the vaudeville-styled "Me and My Shadow" borrowing (OK, stealing) the arrangement and added special material (counterpoint section, with some lyrics updated) recorded in the 1960s by pals Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis, Jr. Even more surprising is another page from Sammy, the title song from one of his films, Salt and Pepper, another "buddy" number that can be characterized as a "list song"—a nifty one. And no, our current Finian's Rainbow star Cheyenne Jackson does not neglect to give us one sample of that score: his "Old Devil Moon" is a romantic and exuberant celebration. It's splendid and big, or to borrow (OK, steal) another phrase from that score, it's "something sort of grandish." Less fully realized are Michael's solo on "So in Love" from Kiss Me, Kate (showing good chops but with arrangement/interpretation that switch gears and tone) and Cheyenne's "A Foggy Day (in London Town)" that is more than OK but could similarly use a sharper point of view. With musical director John Oddo and A-list band members, the musical accompaniment is solid, though innovative, groundbreaking arrangements are not so much on the menu. But with so many tasty treats and smashing, dashing performances, there is a feast to be had and relished. Enjoy.
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CHITA RIVERA
KATE BALDWIN
MICHAEL FEINSTEIN & CHEYENNE JACKSON
