ON THE TOWN WITH CHIP DEFFAA… SPOTTING TWO NEW ARTISTS-TO-WATCH AT DON’T TELL MAMA

I stopped by Don’t Tell Mama, on 46th Street in NYC,  the other night.  I love that unpretentious place; it feels like a second home to me.  Over the decades, I’ve seen countless shows of all sorts there—sometimes as a reviewer, sometimes just for my own enjoyment.  (And the great Sidney Myer, who  books their cabaret shows, has even recorded for me!)

It made me happy just to step inside.  Randy Cohen Lester greeted me warmly: “Hi, Chip!  Are you reviewing tonight’s show?”

“No, Randy,” I told her.  “I’m just an ordinary paying customer tonight.  I won’t be writing about this show.”  And that was my intent.  It was a  fundraiser for Actors Technique NY, a training program for young performers that’s  active in New Jersey, Connecticut, and New York.  Some friends of mine from Glen Rock, New Jersey—where I grew up and for many years maintained an office—had told me their kids had enjoyed the program, and that I’d see a lot of promising younger singers, ranging in age from perhaps seven to 25.  They suggested: “Maybe you’ll even spot a possible future star.”

To my surprise, I actually spotted two.  And while I did not go to the club with the intention of writing anything about the show, two of the teenage singers I saw were so good, I’d feel remiss if I didn’t write something about them.  They had the most beautiful voices of any of the singers on the bill—the best voices of any rising young “unknown” singers I’d encountered anywhere in recent years.  Two “diamonds in the rough,” with terrific potential.  I enjoyed them both immensely.

  Remember these names: Johnny Sullivan, Robert Levey II.  I’d actually heard of both singers—though I’d never before seen them “live”—from industry pros who’d caught performances by them in clubs (like the Bitter End) or in concerts.   And I’d seen/heard performances by them online.  I don’t necessarily trust performances that aspiring singers/actors post on YouTube, because a skilled recording engineer can use auto-tuning and various engineering tricks to sweeten tracks, and make singers seem better than they actually are.  I much prefer to hear singers “live.”  But I was just knocked out by what I heard at Don’t Tell Mama.  Both of these singers sounded even better in person than on their typical online posts.

I’ll mention Johnny Sullivan first, simply because he  was one of the first singers in the overly long show.  (Robert Levey II was one of the last to sing in the show; in between them were assorted singers of wildly varied abilities.)

Sullivan chose to sing “Creep”—the song that put Radiohead on the map in the early 1990s.  And it’s been covered by many different singers since then.  It is not an easy song to sing.  But I’ve never heard a  better version of the song than the one that Sullivan offered.  With pianist Rachel Kaufman providing appropriately stark, sparse accompaniment,  Sullivan let the song unfold and work its spell.

 I was struck by the tonal beauty of Sullivan’s penetrating voice, both in his lower and upper registers—and by the affecting, unexpected way he will switch from his lower to his upper register.  He’s got a sound and style  of his own.  But it was not just the beauty of his voice that got to me.  He sang with a sensitivity, a vulnerability that is rare among singers of any age, and extremely rare among singers his age.  He was standing before us, emotionally exposed.  (I had not seen that quality in clips of him singing that I’d enjoyed listening to online.)  His good work hit me hard.

 With any young singer, there’s inevitably room for improvement. (That’s why I speak of “diamonds in the rough.” If I’m working with younger singer/actors, the goal is always to help them get closer to fulfilling their potential.)  But Johnny Sullivan has  got something, right now, that just held me.  I mean,  you could take a “live” recording of his performance of “Creep” at Don’t Tell Mama and release it, and it would touch people.  If such a recording existed, I’d have it on repeat play right now. I wish I could be listening to it again.

He’s got lots of potential, and he’s on the right track.  I hope he’ll continue to keep honing his gifts.

I had hoped to meet him briefly, after the show, to compliment him in person.  (I wonder if he realizes how good he is?)  But by the time I got out of the cabaret room, he’d left Don’t Tell Mama.  So we’ve never met.  I have no idea if we ever will meet, face-to-face.

 But if we had met, I would have said something like this to him: “After so many years in the business—including 18 years reviewing for the New York Post–I can spot talent quickly.  You’ve got it, and others in the business will spot it, too.  You’ll get offers from people who want to manage you, produce you, maybe even control you.  Be open to all possibilities.  But there are a lot of sharks out there.  Be wary of anyone who wants to take total control of your career, or tell you what songs you can or cannot sing, or what gigs you can take.  You’ve got something uniquely yours and it’s special.  The trick is to find and work with people who will let you be you—a bigger, better version of you perhaps.  But steer clear of people who want to  make you into someone different from yourself that they’re controlling.  I’ve had good friends—like David Cassidy, to name one example—whose lives were so thoroughly controlled by domineering producers that they came to  hate show business, and complained to me how little happiness they got as performers.  Stay true to yourself, and keep making the music you want to make.  If you meet a potential producer or manager who tells you something like, “You’ve got a nice voice, but I don’t want you singing depressing songs like ‘Creep’; I only want you singing songs cheerful new pop things I’ll write and arrange for you”—and I know some guys who are just  like that–run like the wind!

The host of the show, producer/director Carl Anthony Tramon, noted that Sullivan is currently a student at New York’s famed LaGuardia High School of Music and Art, and the Performing Arts.  And Sullivan plays soccer, in addition to performing.  I liked the way Tramon chatted a bit with each singer, giving them plenty of encouragement—which kids need—and letting us get to know them a  bit.

The show, alas,  was way too long for a cabaret show—23 performances!  It’s hard to justify cramming more than 15 or 16 songs into a show like this.   Ear-fatigue sets in.  It’s much better to leave everyone in the house wanting more.

 I felt sorry for singers programmed late in the show; some audience members were restlessly chatting a bit by then, a few had gotten up and left.  And it’s hard for a performer to make full impact with an audience that is psychologically ready to go home.  So I felt bad that Robert Levey II, whose performances online had so greatly impressed me, was being introduced after 18 others had sung before him.  It’s tough to hold a house after so many different singers have sung in an overly long show.

But Levey  strode up to the stage, appearing relaxed, at ease, confident—and with a casual sort of perfection, began singing “I’m Going Home”—a very good, but not-very-well-known song by Richard O’Brien from the film “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”  And he  established command over the audience from the first lines.

 I’m told Levey is only 16, but he has a terrific voice, unexpectedly mature and self-assured for one so young; if I closed my eyes, I might have guessed  he was up in his 20s.  It was a very “together” performance, so satisfying that I could almost wonder if he was lip-synching to a studio recording.  But of course it was “live,” caried off with grace from first note to last.  What an attractive voice! And his wisely understated approach served the song well. He’s a natural, and I’m very grateful I finally got to hear him “live.”

I liked the way he was respecting the songwriter’s intentions.  Not a lot of young singers know how to do that.  When young singers send me audition tapes, they often over-sing their songs–showboating, turning simple ballads into power-ballads ending with inappropriately “big” finishes, as if they’ve got to show off how strongly they can hit a climactic high note, whether or not the song calls for it.  But Levey was doing justice to the song by NOT pushing, just expressing the song’s sentiments honestly, directly.

And I’ve heard him, online, singing songs of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bobby Darin, and others with an irresistible charm.

Levey has won a Young Artist Award, out in California.  I’m glad he’s getting recognition.  (Some young singers who’ve recorded with me, have won this award.  It’s a significant accomplishment.)

He  has a bright future–so long as he works with people who “get” his strengths and don’t try to remake him into some kind of  contemporary singer, singing songs that aren’t really “him.”  I’m glad I got to briefly congratulate him after the show.  He’s the real deal, and I wish him well.

I’ve produced 45 albums over the years—with plenty of seasoned pros, but also with some promising young artists-to-watch.  Levey and Sullivan were as appealing as any of the younger recording artists I’ve recorded.

I was impressed, too, by Lily Kramer, who followed Levey, singing “Poor Unfortunate Souls.”  I liked her voice a lot—big, ripe, full-bodied. A solid “Broadway belt.”   She mentioned that one of her favorite songs to sing is “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” and one of her dream roles would be playing Fanny Brice in the musical “Funny Girl.”  I hope I get to see her someday doing both; I have a hunch she’d be terrific.  And I have the sheet music for lots of rare Fanny Brice songs that I bet she could sing with aplomb, as well. She’d also be good for a production of my one-woman Off-Broadway  show “One Night with Fanny Brice.”   I hope we get to meet again someday.

There were other singers on the bill I enjoyed, like young Valerie Cohen and Marielle Gadeh.  (And when I got home I found a video of them online, singing “Together We’ll Stand.”) And Pippa Bays.  Bays commented  that participating in the Actors Technique NY program (headed by Todd Etelson) had helped bring her out of her shell.  And that’s reason enough to try a program like this.  She sang with panache, like she was born to be on stage.

For the finale, host Tramon invited the entire company on stage for a rousing rendition of “Don’t Lose Your Head.”  And it was good to see so many kids so happy on stage.  Clearly they were having a good time.

 But the finale was marred by the fact that so many of the singers were reading lyrics from sheets of paper they were holding.  They were looking down at sheets of paper, rather than singing out and making eye-contact with the audience. They hadn’t learned the finale.  And that’s unprofessional.

The late George Burns used to stress to me that the two most important things a performer must do in presenting an act are: “Start strong!  And end strong!  If you end as strong as possible, audiences will forget any weak moments that came before.  But if you end weakly, that’ll be the last impression they’ll be taking away.”

Kids are quick studies.   When I’ve directed shows with kids in the casts, they’ve usually learned their songs and dialogue faster than the adults.  If the producers of this show had told the kids, “If you want to be in the finale, you have to learn the song,” I can guarantee you the kids would have learned it.  You’d have had a better show.  You’d be teaching the kids the realities of show business.   And the kids would have more to be proud of.