The crossing of boundaries that separate genres is not usually a smooth one. Modern dance students cannot be Tchaikovsky’s swans. Lyric poets are not adept at writing tightly constructed plays. Abstract painters need other skills to create realistic portraits.  And talented singers experienced in musical theater must study how a cabaret performance in a small room differs from appearing on stage in a blockbuster musical.  Their debuts and early excursions into cabaret are likely to be a mixture of promise and flaws that have to be addressed.  This was the case with Lillie Kae’s show at Don’t Tell Mama.

Lillie Kae has a lot going for her.  She is very pleasing to the eye: if there were a MAC award for female singer with the best figure, she would be at very least a finalist. The white flowers she wears tucked behind her ear with hair drawn severely back is reminiscent of Julie Wilson, and her allegiance to the Great American Songbook and the music of the '40s places her in a very clearly defined cabaret tradition.  She is backed by excellent musicians: Ken Levinsky on piano; award winning seven-string guitarist Edward Decker, who is also her musical director, and Steve Doyle on bass.  Her voice is a good, middle-range soprano with a smoky edge well suited to the slightly jazzed up arrangements of standards (such as “Ding! Dong! The Witch is Dead”).  Her encore, “All That Jazz” (she has worked in Chicago), was her most spectacular number, allowing Lillie to bring together her training as a dancer, her experience in musical theater, and her ability to belt out a song with an energy that was too often lacking in the others she performed.

The show was a celebration of Kae’s CD, I’m Glad There is You. To characterize the evening, it might be accurate to say that instead of presenting a show to an audience, she invited them into a recording session in which her easy, friendly repartee with her musicians was part of her charm.  The songs themselves, however, came off as too similar, as were the arrangements and her phrasing (“Night and Day” was catchy and rhythmic but lacking the emotional intensity Porter’s song warrants).  Kae has to work on interpreting lyrics, choosing songs that range more widely among different stories and their attendant emotions.  The patter was too casual and needed tightening. Her tribute to her husband involved a long story of being dumped by one boyfriend only to find a finer life partner. It was not unusual and was unlikely to elicit much interest from the audience.  On the other side, Bucky Pizzarelli, who plays on her CD and who has inspired Kae, also received a tribute, a welcome reminder that John Pizzarelli actually has a renowned, revered father.  So the pieces of a good show were there, but the pieces did not quite fit.  Lillie Kae needs a director who can help her create a more unified but at the same time more varied show, and who will encourage her to pay a little less attention to what her voice sounds like and more attention to just what it is she is singing about.

It will be interesting to watch her grow into a cabaret performer.

Barbara Leavy
Cabaret Scenes
December 18, 2008
www.cabaretscenes.org