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George and Ira Gershwin: Boy Wanted
Ella Fitzgerald sang the way the rest of us breathe. Her vocal production, phrasing, diction and interpretive choices were so natural and effortless that it’s easy to take her work for granted. A natural talent who had little if any formal musical training, she was blessed with a seamless voice of great beauty, and an instinctive ability to get to the core of both the music and the lyrics of every song she sang.
Henry Purcell: Evening Hymn
Henry Purcell’s Evening Hymn has always moved me to tears, even though I am more of a “this world” person in my own spirituality. Perhaps because of that, or in spite of it, this song touches me deeply, as it takes us through the last thoughts of a person who is closing the door on a life well-lived. What I find so extraordinary is the dramatic arc of this song, and how Purcell manages to build it atop the repetitive structure of a ground bass line.
John Musto: Old Photograph
I’m one lucky singer to be married to such a gifted song composer as John...
Kurt Weill: Je ne t’aime pas
Having escaped the Nazi takeover of the German government, Kurt Weill found himself in Paris in 1933, trying to get a foothold in a new artistic landscape. His reputation there was solid, though based mostly on the 1930 French film and stage versions of The Threepenny Opera (L’Opéra de quat’sou), which had been popular. Still, at thirty-four, Kurt Weill was essentially starting over. “[Weill] arrived in Paris with very little beyond his good name” says Brecht and Weill scholar Pamela Katz, author of The Partnership. Luckily, he met cabaret and film star Lys Gauty, who commissioned two songs from him: Complainte de la Seine, and this one.
George and Ira Gershwin: The Lorelei
Who doesn’t love the famous Liszt song about the Lorelei? There she is, that infamous temptress, combing her flaxen hair, singing her siren song to lure hapless sailors to their deaths upon the rocks…
Charles Trenet: Y a d’la joie
There’s nothing like a Charles Trenet song to make you feel happy. Some of his lyrics can be surprisingly dark, but not here. In this song, Trenet the optimist wakes up from a lovely dream only to find gray skies and dull morning rituals before him. But without the dream, there would be no song!
Stephen Sondheim: Too Many Mornings
When I was planning the FSH gala with Amanda Bottoms and Dimitri Katotakis, they both mentioned that they’d recently sung “Too Many Mornings” from Sondheim’s Follies. For some reason, I initially resisted. Too hackneyed? off-topic? I don’t know. About two weeks later I woke up and changed my mind. I am glad I did.
Hoagy Carmichael & Johnny Mercer: Skylark
I know of two perfect songs: Fauré’s “En sourdine,” and Hoagy Carmichael’s “Skylark.” Paul Verlaine was the poet for the first of them, and Johnny Mercer the lyricist for the second. Please don’t ask me to explain what makes them perfect, or even why I think they might be better than other wonderful songs. After all, there is plenty of “great” music I don’t enjoy, and even more non-great music that lifts my heart. Greatness and perfection aren’t really in my lexicon, except when it comes to “En sourdine” and “Skylark.” It’s something I feel in my hands and in my soul when I play them.
Stephen Sondheim: Talent
Art, like medical research, thrives on creative, talented people. But it also thrives on open-hearted patrons, some of whom can be as visionary (in their own way) as their beneficiaries. For this week’s FSH Dystrophy fundraiser, I grabbed a recent song by Stephen Sondheim, “Talent.”
Kander and Ebb: Sing Happy
To close the benefit program this week I grabbed a song Amanda Bottoms offered: “Sing Happy,” from the 1965 Flora the Red Menace. The musical is famous for a few things: it marked the first collaboration of composer John Kander and lyricist Fred Ebb, who would soon go on to write Cabaret, Chicago, and a raft of Broadway hits; it won a Tony for Liza Minelli, who was making her Broadway debut at age 19; and it was a flop. Like many Kander and Ebb works, Flora had a politically ambitious premise, but its director George Abbott came from a more traditional theatrical ethos. He was a giant, but not the right giant for this problematic material.
Elena Walsh: Como la cigarra
I write from my perch in Long Island, but when this hits the web this I shall be in San Francisco doing double duty: teaching at San Francisco Opera’s Merola program, and preparing a concert for a Saturday-night fundraiser. For the last few years I’ve been offering a 45-minute show at a San Francisco benefit for FSH Dystrophy research. Being an FSH-er myself, these concerts are very meaningful to me. I’m playing for keeps.
Earl Robinson and John Latouche: Ballad for Americans
June 30 is close enough to July 4 that I’d like to conclude this week with “Ballad for Americans,” a patriotic cantata for soloist, chorus and orchestra. All through my childhood my father played the Paul Robeson recording on Independence Day. Between Robeson’s voice, the casual references to historical figures, the questions and the lists, elementary-school Amy found it absolutely thrilling. As I grew older, it also took on the good feelings that come with a family tradition.
Stephen Sondheim: A Little Priest
It was not consciously planned, but the songs I chose to start and end this week are both idealistic. By contrast, today’s pick involves serial murder and cannibalism.
Vernon Duke: April in Paris
“April in Paris” was recorded by all the big mid-century pop singers; secondhandsongs.com lists more than 60 versions. But my favorite recording omits the lyric. Here is the Count Basie Orchestra, swinging hard in a 1955 arrangement by Wild Bill Davis.
George and Ira Gershwin: The Half of It, Dearie, Blues
In this April 1926 recording (made in London for English Columbia), George Gershwin plays and Fred Astaire sings and taps. To paraphrase the Passover Haggadah: if George Gershwin plays and Astaire sings and taps, dayenu. It would have been enough. But this recording contains a few bonus delights, as Gershwin interpolates licks from Rhapsody in Blue (written the same year as the song) and the men call out to each other. Pure happiness.