Martha Plimpton certainty does sing, and the question mark can now be removed and replaced with an exclamation point! A well-known actress who recently sang on Broadway in the revival of Pal Joey is of famous parentage (Keith Carradine and Shelley Plimpton), she proves that talent might indeed be genetic and that nepotism is not always a bad thing.

From her stunning entrance in her ruched couture red dress, her body swayed with the band as if in unison. The first few tunes by Randy Newman and the like did little to prepare us for her brilliantly provocative and powerhouse rendering of “Colored Spade” from Hair – earnestly pointing out that her conception occurred while her parents performed in the original cast of the Broadway production.

Her sly preoccupation with all things black and beautiful was not the whole of her show, but a good portion of it. And while I am not exactly sure of why she made these choices (there are many tantalizing theories I could espouse), she did discuss her childhood as an outsider, tortured by the other attendees of her urban grade school and her confusing status due to all sorts of familial shenanigans. What kept this from being another tawdry confessional was the brilliance of her timing, the tight professionalism and ultimately her singing voice itself. She had so many colors to her voice—sometimes bluesy, strong clear and bright, other times spun like cotton candy—sweet and ethereal. Consequently, I was always surprised at the vocal tools she had at her disposal.

Plimpton also was able to play it straight—as in her second-to-last showstopper, creamily producing a version of “Never Never Land” closing with a glorious medley of Cole Porter’s “I Happen to Like New York” and “N.Y.C.” from Annie. This show might not work for the literal-minded folks who might not understand (or simply accept) her choice of songs such as Yoko Ono and John Lennon’s “Woman Is the Nigger of the World” or 1918’s sweetly shocking “Pickaninny’s Paradise”—but there is a backstory to these numbers— and I did not know whether to laugh or cry when she told them. With some research, I found that the latter tune was not even mentioned in some articles regarding the famous publishing house of Harry von Tilzer (who wrote “Wait ‘Til the Sun Shines, Nellie” and whose brother, Albert, was the co-writer of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” of all things.)

If one wants to take all of this as pure entertainment, it is valid - but there is also a history lesson to be learned here if you have the patience or desire to Google your head off.

In totality, I had a marvelous time, as the room (with its back wall a window opening to a view of the city) was stunning and the band was in perfect sympathy with the chanteuse.

Bravo, Lincoln Center American Songbook series!

Melody Breyer-Grell
Cabaret Scenes
January 16, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org