Review: An Evening with Barbara Cook

Photo by PeterJBellis from flikr.com

It was a four-standing ovation kind of night. Barbara Cook, a blue-blooded royal among Broadway singers, had consented to perform in Clemson. The incandescent singer,  described as “miraculous” and “legendary,” turns 85 next month. Credits include having played Marian the Librarian in the original production of The Music Man,  and she’s also performed in London, at Carnegie Hall, and at the White House for four different presidents.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_G4JNMURj4&feature=related

As a theatre student and music lover, I go geeky when I think of her being on campus. However, like a royal in disguise, Ms. Cook’s performance was so unassumingly earnest that a student sitting beside me exclaimed, “She’s just like my grandma!”

Surprisingly, two of last night’s four ovations weren’t for her, but occurred before the chanteuse ever stepped onto the Lillian “Mickey” Harder stage. Never heard of the Harder stage? Until last night, it was simply known as the Brooks Center stage. In a brief and tender ceremony, Clemson President Jim Barker informed Ms. Harder that after 24 years as teacher and 16 years as Director of the Brooks center, the stage that she fought to fill would take her name.

Emotions buzzed after this brief digression. Ms. Cook didn’t seem to mind; as it turned out,  the singer is fond of digressions. Swathed in a shimmering blue ensemble, she picked her way onstage with her silver-handled cane, perched on a swivel chair down stage center, and arranged several sheets of song lyrics on a music stand, “just in case.”

Ms. Cook’s program diverged from the usual Sondheim and included everything from cheeky 20s and 30s jazz (“Making Whoopie” and “When Sunny Gets Blue”) to mournful, earthy numbers like“The House of the Rising Sun.” Her sweet, expressive voice, a timbre good for lullabies or late-night radio shows,  nested in the musical web of Ted Rosenthal’s piano, Jay Leonhart’s bass, Warren Odze’s drums, and Steve Kenyon’s personable wind instruments.  Between songs, Ms. Cook chatted to her audience, winding through tales from her YouTube obsession to her talent crush on Hugh Jackman.  In one memorable incident, Ms. Cook sang the sensuous “Georgia on My Mind,” only to admit afterward that she couldn’t stand Georgia. “I was born in Atlanta, couldn’t wait to get out.” She chuckled. “I needed to get to New York.”

New York gave Ms. Cook a place to belong, and in return, she took the city into her persona. Though the music was universal, last night’s performance had the feel of wanting a New York Audience. Her voice held the memories of crowds that swell with cheers on the onset of her first words, laugh loudly at her jokes, hang on to her stories, and dance in their seats. Last night’s audience was not so much unresponsive as somewhat removed; Broadway life and glamour is a long way from South Carolina. Still, for those with a passion for theatrical tradition, Barbara Cook left a lingering sweetness of memory and song.