Lauren Flanigan

The Unsung Kurt Weill

Café Sabarsky
New York, NY
 Opera singer/cabaret stylist Lauren Flanigan presents as a dramatic artist, not a mere singer. She brought those skills to the table at the elegant, yet cozy Café Sabarsky by starting off in a somewhat avant-garde musical style, ultimately leading to a powerful and fully melodic finale. The music of Kurt Weill never fails to surprise with its depth and variety, his interesting writing partners and the magical beauty (“My Ship”) or the comic brutality (“Pirate Jenny”) of his music.

Ms. Flanigan is an imposing figure, tall with short silvery hair and a rap that can get really personal—as if you were in her living room—but that casualness ends the moment she starts singing. Her singing is serious stuff with a soprano that both soars and diminishes in equal parts. It sounds like she has taken an essentially lyric and glimmering instrument (shades of Beverly Sills) and has driven it as hard as if she were a Wagnerian. The resulting sound alternates between sweetness and shrillness and results in some less than accurate pitch as she does tend to go flat.

With all this taken into account, it cannot be denied that her performance was an always compelling sale of rare Weill, most of it deserving to be heard and enjoyed. Many of these tunes were cut from the stage or film productions—left to languish till now.

The concept of this show was two-fold—to present the unknown material and to tell a story of love at first ludicrous and irrational (“It Never Was You,” lyrics by Maxwell Anderson) to the almost epically romantic, “The River Is So Blue.” The lyrics of the latter were written by Ann Ronell, whom I erringly thought was just responsible for the soulful jazz standard, “Willow Weep for Me.” “River” and her “Picture on the Wall” were tremendous discoveries. Ms. Flanigan really excelled in these pieces, crafting each word and phrase leading to thrilling peaks of emotion.

Also surprising was the bawdily funny, Gershwin-esque “There’s Nothing Left for Daddy (but the Rumba)” as penned by Alan Jay Lerner, of all folks. There was much else to enjoy in this perfectly-timed program. She closed the show cheekily with Paul Green’s “Farewell, Goodbye,” summoning the same mood as the more familiar piece “So Long, Farewell” (hmm… was someone sniffing through the archives?)

Flanigan was charmingly accompanied by a band including such exotic instruments as the sitar and “toy piano,” but it never sounded rinky-dink due to the rich balance provided by Julie Goodale’s viola.

I completely recommend this show as it is accessible, illuminating and just plain entertaining. Lauren Flanigan is a force to be reckoned with, using her voice as she pleases, ending up quite pleasing, despite its imperfections.

Melody Breyer-Grell
Cabaret Scenes
April 22, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org