As a passionate and unapologetic fan of the immortal Al Jolson (yeah, he sang in blackface when it was the convention of the period—get over it!), I would never pass up an opportunity to hear a cabaret performer deliver songs that Jolie made famous. Sam Lewis was one of the greatest Tin Pan Alley songwriters of the early 20^th century whose lyrics Jolson—any many other singers—sifted through and found gold. Almost 100 years since Lewis wrote his first of about 200 songs (many of which were co-written with fellow lyricist Joe Young), former opera singer Madelaine Warren took the stage at The Triad to bring some new luster to 17 classic songs of pop music’s early days.

Wearing a stylish red cocktail dress that played off well against her auburn hair, Warren opened with “I Believe in Miracles,” with its operative overtones which showed off her lovely soprano sound. But the next number, one of those jaunty Jolson hits “I’m Sitting on Top of the World,” would prove to be an example of one of the show’s flaws. Warren tackled some old pop songs that are better suited to male vocalists or female altos and the lack of a good fit made for an inconsistent performance.

After Madelaine and her Musical Director/pianist Barry Levitt got through an awkward arrangement of  “World,” she was slightly better on the old Eddie Canter hit, “How You Gonna Keep ’Em Down on the Farm,” but which could have been even more fun. The duo got things back on track with a solid arrangement on the emotional ballad “Cryin’ for the Carolines,” which was better suited to her higher register voice. Warren then turned two of Jolson’s greatest hits, “My Mammy” and “Rock-A-Bye Your Baby (With a Dixie Melody)” from the 1918 show Sinbad, into a heartfelt medley before meandering her way through the Jolson novelty song “Where Did Robinson Crusoe Go? (With Friday on Saturday Night),” which needed more of a sense of farce from the singer.

Warren’s stage presence is classy, demure and elegant, but a bit stiff and she doesn’t yet seem comfortable with the more relaxed and intimate feel of playing a cabaret room. She’s in her element when offering sweet, operatic renditions of the depression era songs “Laugh, Clown Laugh” and “Gloomy Sunday” (the latter written by Hungarian composer Rezso Seress in 1933 and later given English lyrics by Lewis), which was a hit for both Paul Robeson and Billie Holliday, but “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue” requires more bounce and spunk (although it was fascinating to hear a rarely sung opening verse to the song).

Warren’s between-songs script offered interesting musical history factoids (i.e. the 8-bar verse, 32-bar chorus structure of those Tin Pan Alley tunes), but could have provided more insight into the essence of Lewis’s lyrics, especially considering that he wrote with so many different composers. When presenting a show built around the songbook of a lyricist, it’s vital to have the audience connect with those words or the melodies will be what sticks.

Warren was especially effective in that regard on another Jolson hit “Dinah,” before which she held up the vintage sheet music of another song written about the south by the first generation American son of assimilated European Jews. In one of the show’s better numbers, Warren did a great job on the spoken intro before transitioning into the up-tempo melody. The rest of the show was dominated by ballads completely in Warren’s wheelhouse. A medley of two of Lewis’s more sophisticated lyrics, “I Got Myself in Bad” and “Just Friends,” were ideal for Madelaine’s lilting soprano. “In a Little Spanish Town” went from a Latin beat into a lovely climatic opera aria. Warren ended the show with two beautiful ballads, the melancholy “Street of Dreams,” delivered as sad and optimistic at the same time, and the plaintive “For All We Know.”

One of the Madelaine’s motivations to do a Sam Lewis tribute show is that Lewis was the uncle of her husband (and sometimes singing partner) Arthur Warren’s godfather (or some familial connection like that). Madelaine’s performance was lovely, if inconsistent, so it will be interesting to hear her again on material that really suits her well. To paraphrase Al Jolson, perhaps “we ain’t heard nothin’ yet.”

Stephen Hanks
Cabaret Scenes
October 30, 2011
www.cabaretscenes.org