A strong argument could be made for Michael Feinstein as our foremost male pop singer. There’s the quality of the voice, the velvety tones over which he has masterful control. There’s the quiet passion with which he imbues every ballad he chooses to include in a line-up. There’s the vocal power he brings to the 2/4-4/4 items.
Moreover, there’s the care he exhibits with the Great American Songbook, which he not only perpetuates when performing but also as perhaps the country’s leading popular song archivist. (Feinstein watches carefully over the 20th-century canon. What he thinks about the 21st-century Great American Songbook he has yet to articulate at any length.)
Lastly but hardly insignificantly there’s his highly-polished skills as an entertainer. Few others outpace him at working a room with buoyant charm.
Right now, he’s working the Manhattan room that carries his name, Feinstein’s/54Below. He’s settled in for his annual Christmas/Chanukah stay with something dubbed “Swingin’ with the Season.” The title goes some way towards indicating that he’s veered from the usual wreath of carols being sung by choirs everywhere else these December weeks
Apparently, he’s decided he’s been there, done that, and so he limits the familiar—and of course, beloved, repertoire—to his opening, “The Christmas Waltz,” and his closing, “White Christmas.” Musical director Tedd Firth, that keyboard genius, does sneak in the occasional seasonal riff, e.g., a generous snatch of “Greensleeves.”
Otherwise, Feinstein is swinging generously, as in a rollicking “You’ve Come a Long Way from St. Louis,” only one of any number of tunes not necessarily associated with Yuletide. Even the “Christmas Waltz” kick-off is medleyed (mashed-up?) with a rousing “’Pure Imagination,” which could have Christmas-y overtones, if pure imagination is stretched to include children imagining what they might find under the tree.
As ambassador of the popular song, Feinstein pays homage to composers and lyricists he cherishes. One composer is Victor Young, whose name he assumes few in his audience know. He reprises “When I Fall in Love” (Edward Heyman’s words) and “My Foolish Heart” (Ned Washington’s words). He informs the adoring crowd that Young was Oscar-nominated 18 times but never prevailed. (Is this an Oscar record? He doesn’t say)
Feinstein fans know his love for Rosemary Clooney, but for this outing he talks about another chirping idol, Jo Stafford. He gives a gorgeously introspective reading to her 1949 hit, “You Belong to Me.” He goes on to inform the auditors that with hubby Paul Weston, the pitch-perfect Stafford created the fumbling Jonathan and Darlene Edwards, who were so hilariously adept at ruining ditties by way of Darlene’s expert off-pitch singing and Jonathan’s off-kilter rhythm sense that they sold tons of Jonathan and Darlene Edwards albums.
(By the way, Stafford and Weston created the Edwards couple to amuse friends at parties. These party favors are currently in the news because Frank Loesser and first-wife Lynn came up with “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” for cracking up Hollywood friends. What must those Tinseltown parties have been like back then? If Feinstein knows other tales, it would be nice of him to let us all in on them.)
As—at the very least—one of our best male singers (Sam Harris and Tom Wopat are also up there), Feinstein is marvelous, but he may be developing some mannerisms it would be wise for him to watch. “A crooner like me” is how he described himself at one opening night moment. Yes, he’s a crooner, but I would have said he’s been more of a balladeer for many of his performing years.
This means he’s avoided some crooning clichés he may be cultivating since he came out from the piano and began appearing as a big-band lead singer. (He works here with an agile trio—Firth at the keyboard, Mark McLean on drums, Phil Palombi on bass.).
One thing for him to watch is the sustained-final-note ploy that’s threatening to turn into a gimmick. This occurs when, usually on something up tempo, he holds the last note for several seemingly endless seconds and, when he’s completed it, raises his shoulders and dramatically drops his arms to his side. The tactic is impressive two or three times but becomes okay-we’ve-seen-it the fourth, fifth and sixth time.
Feinstein began his performing career at the piano, where he stayed for years. For “Swingin’ with the Season” he starts at the front and remains there longer than I’ve ever seen him stay. He only went to the piano, where he’s always mesmerizing, late for one number, returned for a four-hand spin with Firth and then again to sing one of his closers.
There comments are, however, merely cavils. This is Michael Feinstein, cabaret lovers. In my book, he’s the top.
Michael Feinstein: Swingin’ with the Season opened on December 23, 2018, at Feinstein’s/54 Below and runs through December 30. Tickets and information: 54below.com
