A critic who wanted to could find some flaws in An Evening with Judy Collins at the Café Carlyle. But why bother? This is a five-star show by a performer who is a legend from the ‘60s and is still beautiful and still possessed of an exquisite voice. Measured by the clock, it is a longer cabaret show than most. Measured by the pleasure it provides, far too short! I shared the reactions of the audience that urged, as she left the stage, “more, more!”

When Collins quipped that the Café Carlyle reminded her of Gerde’s Folk City, the coffee house in the East Village in which she performed early in her career, the audience (many of whom obviously remembered the venue) caught her humor—and irony.  And yet, because there isn’t an ounce of pretension on Collins’s part in this deliberately casual show, and because each person in the room seemed genuinely invited to share an evening with her, the intimacy between Collins and her audience dissolved all distinctions between up- and down-scale. Each evening she will sing different songs from her past albums and some more written more recently. No two shows in the run will therefore be identical.  This freewheeling structure reinforces the evocation of the hippie coffee houses (although an elegant Judy Collins in no way resembles a hippie). I was fortunate to catch my favorite from the Judy Collins album I years ago played over and over,  “Anathea.” Another from that album that I almost expected to hear because of the ongoing controversies over Arizona is “Deportees,” about the plane crash that killed migrant workers being returned to Mexico after their labor was no longer needed. Perhaps this moving song (whatever one’s political response to immigration policies) will be her selection on another evening.

The folksong world that Judy Collins came east to join after turning away from a career as a concert pianist was a very political one.  This show, however, did not aim at making social or political statements.  A recently written anti-war song was effective because it focused not on abstract politics but rather on a young man who died in battle, unfairly asked to shoulder the “weight of the world.”  Like “Deportees,” the song was a reminder that behind the statistics, behind the news, behind the political debates, are living, breathing human beings. “Buddy Can You Spare a Dime” was not the best rendition I have ever heard, but the rarely heard substitution of “Buddy” for “Brother” enhances the warmth and closeness Collins brings to the people in her songs. Other songs were decidedly apolitical, some Jacques Brel, some standards from the past, such as “Both Sides Now,” others associated with her singer father, such as “My Funny Valentine.”

Collins’s patter seemed spontaneous rather than rehearsed as she talked about her family, her early childhood appearances on radio with her father, her exposure to different musical traditions (classical music on the piano, rock-and-roll in high school, and, ultimately, the folk music that helped define the ‘60s), her early career, her tours with such performers such as Dolly Parton, her friendship with Harry Belafonte, and more.  What made this often very witty patter unique was that she punctuated what she had to say with short, a cappella pieces of song (such as “Michael Row Your Boat Ashore”) appropriate to what she was talking about. Her ability to get the music just right without musical accompaniment was amazing, as was her demonstrated ability to hold a note for a very long time. (Well, all right, I will find something to criticize: sometimes when she effortlessly hit a very high note, I thought the song would have been more effective if she had brought her voice down a notch or two.)

Of course, Judy Collins accompanied herself on guitar.  She also had piano accompaniment by her Musical Director, Russell Walden.  Go see this show!  If you are one of Judy Collins’s generation, you will be excited to reminisce with her.  If you are younger than that, and if you are less familiar with the music associated with her, you have a real treat waiting for you.

Barbara Leavy
Cabaret Scenes
May 5, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org