There was so much that was offensive in Eden Espinosa's new undertaking at the venerable Feinstein’s that I am at a loss as to where to begin, so I will just put “the meat out on the table” as she felt was so necessary.

Following a rather incoherent speech regarding the need to take a stand in one’s life, she delivered a nameless rant ending with the unprintable line “you bloody m*&^ f *&^ a h*&^”—screamed passionately with a five-tag ending. Really—I kid you not—I felt like I stepped into an early 1990s performance art program on the Lower East Side. Except worse.

I must backtrack to just some months ago, when I penned an ecstatic review of Espinosa's triumphant debut at Joe's Pub for this very magazine. It is no mystery what has happened here—under the auspices of the “Musical Director” with a little help from “Friends and Family.”

In the language of her PR notice, let me quote:  “The concert is described as ‘a heartfelt response to the many song requests from fans, family and friends, [which] is an intimate and personal tribute to each of them.’ Music director Joseph Abate…  provides the arrangements and orchestrations that are performed by a nine-piece band.” What we had here was a show (absent of song list or introductions) by committee, led by what appears to be a rather insane apparition of Yanni on acid.

A potentially bright moment quickly faded as the “Maestro” stood up to conduct a version of “Both Sides Now,” coming across as a William Shatner reading, but not as funny or even as heartfelt as the Captain’s. The sawing strings and leaden horns just added to the futility of the arrangement.

Many of the tunes were originally recorded by the likes of Dusty Springfield, Cyndi Lauper and other rock stars, proving that not all material can be covered without becoming banal—thus  disappointing—when the legendary interpreter has been subtracted from the equation.

One major mishap occurred when Espinosa blew the lyrics to a song and muttered something incomprehensible about the “friggin' thing.” Whereas Ella Fitzgerald used slips to her advantage in the gloriously mangled live version of “Mack the Knife,” Espinosa had no such luck.

Abate was duly thanked and called the "love of her life," inferring a relationship that was not fully decipherable. The final insult was her grudging encore accompanied by a hand motion representing the international gesture for pleasuring one’s self or wasting one’s time. Sheesh!

It would behoove Ms. Espinosa to reconsider the role of her Musical Director, start making some new artistic decisions and get back on track. If not, she always has Broadway, where she can run indefinitely in the role of Elphaba in Wicked, a show that represents the Wasteland of Musical Comedy at its long-running cheesiest.

Melody Breyer-Grell
Cabaret Scenes
November 8, 2009