Elizabeth Sullivan sweeps into the Oak Room with a rustle of taffeta and the bearing of more elegant times. “I Feel Pretty” (Sondheim/Bernstein) she sings, fully embodying the surprised and delighted ingénue sixty years her junior. “Only Human,” which she wrote—“that’s what we are”—she continues in a voice as delicate as fine crystal.

Much of the program is made up of Sullivan’s own intimate, touching and beautifully calibrated songs (they should have wider venue) bridged by allusions to her beloved, deceased, husband, Jim. Melodies are lilting, lyrics simple and poetic. A gossamer soprano, perfect enunciation and emotional focus contribute to resonance.

“As Long As We Sing,” a tribute, almost anthem, inspired by Mabel Mercer, conjures the evergreen influence of the icon. An Elizabeth Barrett Browning sonnet put to music showcases classical roots which subtly color other compositions.  “He thinks I could’ve been a” “Star” and the evocative “Not Tonight” (“There may be a time when I’ll not want you, but not tonight”) are at the same time very personal and completely universal reflections on an enviable 62-year marriage.

The timbre of Sullivan’s refined voice creates tenderness as natural as breathing. Her sincere, unwavering gaze and eloquent phrasing seduces an audience. “After September,” the title of her new CD, was a perfect sad/hopeful encore.

Jon Weber was pianist/musical director and John Loehrke was on bass. KT, Heather, Stacy, Tim, Patrick, daughter-in-law Robin, and grandson Montana Sullivan all performed in loving support of their matriarch, each soloing  on a song and, late, often in ethereal harmony, sometimes holding hands. The evening’s cumulative palpable warmth could’ve baked cookies.

Alix Cohen
Cabaret Scenes
May 22, 2011
www.cabaretscenes.org