During the early-to-late-middle-20th-century when love songs were absolutely obligatory musical comedy staples, Cole Porter wrote by far the most impassioned additions to the Great American Songbook. At least, a good argument could be made for his top ranking.
For much of that time ballads were not necessarily character driven. It might be that more often than not lyricists and composers were basing the emotions expressed in their songs on personal feelings than they were keying them to the figures in the script.
Thinking about that aspect of love-song origins was something that occurred to me when watching and, of course, listening to Love, Linda, subtitled “The Life of Mrs. Cole Porter,” which features a first-rate turn by Stevie Holland, who’s bringing back a work she’s been developing and improving for several years.
Had you known nothing about the Porter marriage, you might have guessed that Cole had Linda in his throbbing mind when he was at the Steinway creating his many magnificent love songs. But maybe not, as Holland, portraying Linda, implicitly suggests throughout the emotionally absorbing solo show.
Linda, a rich Southern belle, had a first marriage to a physically abusive man and after divorcing him and meeting Porter was content to appreciate the cosmopolitan life he offered—homes in New York City’s Waldorf Astoria Towers, Paris and Hollywood. More importantly, she was happy to have tied the knot with talent (genius?) she could encourage.
As this regal Linda—Holland in simple basic black gown and pearls—also makes clear, she married Cole completely aware that he was a practicing homosexual. Chronicling their life together, she tolerates (and even more) his infidelities until he’s called to Hollywood in the 1930s and becomes enraptured by the large population of handsome young men available to him.
That’s when it begins to dawn on listeners that possibly some of his rhapsodic love songs might more likely have been written when Porter was focusing not on Linda but on the current boyfriend. Holland does read one letter Cole sent to an Englishman for whom he’d fallen, and she does so allowing Linda to display some disgust.
Linda Lee Porter’s disenchantment mounting, she then quit Tinseltown, and Cole and his busy poolside, for France. She only returned when Cole fell from a horse in October, 1937 and was in danger of having his crushed legs amputated. She remained with him for the rest of his life, seeing him through the writing of, among other productions, the blockbuster Kiss Me, Kate. Once again (or still) in love with him, she continued to give him a custom-made cigarette holder on each opening night. (Linda and Cole were obviously heavy smokers, more’s the pity.) She died in 1954.
Putting aside the question of who inspired the Porter love songs, Holland sings them in a clear loving voice. There are 20 of the great (aren’t they all great?) Porter classics, including “So in Love,” “What is This Thing Called Love?” “In the Still of the Night,” “You Do Something to Me,” “Ridin’ High,” “My Heart Belongs to Daddy,” “Night and Day,” and “Wunderbar.”
Of them all there is one that stands out for particular reasons. It’s the much less often heard “Ours.” In the list of exotic places the singer mentions, the words cumulatively conjure the life the Porters led more than they suggest times Cole might have spent with anyone else. (Well, perhaps old fellow Yale alumnus Monty Woolley.) In the Love, Linda circumstance, the lyrics begin to sound quite proprietary.
Notably and commendably, Holland doesn’t stick to typical renditions. Along the sophisticated way, she does some deft jazz singing, abetted by conductor Deniz Cordell and certainly Gary William Friedman’s arrangements and additional music. She also gives “Wunderbar,” which Porter meant as a spoof of romantic exaggeration, its first thoroughly heartfelt reading. With these touches she brings a good bit of her cabaret-schooled self to the piece.
It’s often said of song and songwriters—not necessarily accurately—that they don’t write ‘em like they used to. With Love, Linda, which Richard Maltby, Jr. very smartly directs, the old saw is absolutely on the money.
Love, Linda opened October 17, 2018, at The Triad and runs to November 10. Tickets and information: lovelindathemusical.com
