First Nighter: Mark Nadler's Outstanding, Outrageous 'Crazy 1961'

When the amazing Mark Nadler performs, I never fail to find myself thinking about the talent/luck equation. If x (talent) + y (luck) = Big Star, how are x and y measured? Is x regularly bigger than y? You'd think it would be or should be, but considering the myriad no-talents or modicum-talents with significant reputations abounding nowadays, that theory doesn't hold so firmly.

The answer, of course, is that x and y undoubtedly differ according to the individual and will never be, and can never be, quantified. In Nadler's case, the x is extremely large and the y is apparently not nearly large enough. Which isn't to say that the outstandingly outrageous and outrageously outstanding entertainer hasn't achieved a notable success. At the moment and as he has been for many years, he's one of few performers appearing regularly in the (too frequently denigrated) cabaret field actually earning a living at the endeavor.

Working constantly in New York City as well as across the country and the Pond, Nadler is known but not in the way, say, Al Jolson or Danny Kaye or Victor Borge or Jerry Lee Lewis -- all of whom he resembles in one way or another -- were or are known and celebrated. That's to say, he's not a household word when he should be. After all, he's as brazenly self-aggrandizing as Jolson could be, as delightfully hyper as Kaye often presented himself, as gifted and goofy at the piano as Borge habitually was, and as piano-rockin' as Lewis couldn't stop himself from being.

Then what's held Nadler back from consistently landing major bookings? Is it that he arrived at a time when Jolson, Kaye, Borge and Lewis represent show-biz acclaim of a prior era. Maybe, but maybe not. After all, that talent will out should operate in any age, shouldn't it? Is it that, as many have said about him, he comes on too strong? Maybe, but maybe not. Did anyone ever come on stronger than Jolson, whom audiences ate up with a spoon? Is it that there's no one quite like him around now, and consequently there's no easy way to connect him to a wider public? (Elton John may come closest, but he's also a pop-tune composer, which is one thing Nadler doesn't claim to be.) Maybe his uncategorizability does account for the oversight, but maybe not. Nadler's uniqueness should be a prime selling point.

Okay, I throw my hands up and can only say that Nadler's current show, "Crazy 1961," which he reprises twice more (January 15 and 22) at Manhattan's Laurie Beechman Theatre, is yet another in his highly diverting, cagily intelligent enterprises. It may not be entirely at the level of his "Tschaikowsky (And Other Russians)" -- during which he takes the famous Danny Kaye list song of composers and spins comedy and information from it. All the same, this one's non-stop fun, too.

The premise is that, born October 14, 1961, Nadler has now turned 50 and is wondering about everything that happened of any consequence during that miraculous year. Nothing seems to escape his coverage, including the sending of a chimp into space, civil rights demonstrations, the hit parade and the details of his own arrival. The latter include mentioning that his conception came about as the result of a broken condom, or so his father later informed him. Nor does Nadler stop there with the intimate disclosures, which extend to his deliberately delayed delivery (superstitious Mom didn't want to give birth on Friday 13) and his resulting life as a gay man.

(In the age of Elton John, upfront at the 2012 Golden Globes with hubby David Furnish, don't say gayness is a career-deterrent.)

Tying songs into the 1961 topics he raises, the tall, thin, tirelessly kinetic, somewhat-George Gershwin-look-a-like Nadler kick-starts himself (and I think I mean with literal kicks) on a "Once in a Lifetime"/"Comes Once in a Lifetime" medley that stokes the fires of those who think it's manic behavior that's stalled him. He knows the criticism so well that he segues into "Hey, Jimmy, Joe, John, Jim, Jack," a forgotten song from the forgotten musical "Let It Ride," about the advisability of tooting one's own horn loudly.

He also knows it behooves him to demonstrate he can be restrained and, after a rousing "Cruella De Vil," he pulls way back to a sweet "This is Dedicated to the One I Love." Noting that 1961 is the year body-mikes came to Broadway (from whence he plucks many of his inclusions), he recalls the body-miked Anna Maria Alberghetti with "Carnival"'s 'Love Makes the World Go 'Round," which melts into Noel Coward's "Sail Away" advisory.

Before getting to a fifty 1961 hits medley followed by the most important one he's left out, "Moon River," he sings, among several well-chosen others, Gilbert Becaud's "Et Maintenant" only in French because he dislikes the English translation. He goes "Crazy," because he says he kinda is. Incidentally, the entire set has him at the piano, along with guitarist Scott Johnson, bassist Robert Sabin, drummer Barbara Merjan and Dan Willis on reeds and flute, and maybe it's fronting this hip band that'll make an improved-gigs difference for him.

By the time Nadler finishes, he's shown he has it all -- with one exception: the nation-wide, not to say international, recognition he's worked all but the first two or three of his fifty years to attain and unquestionably deserves.

Boisterous pianist and singer Mark Nadler has been entertaining cabaret crowds here and abroad for quite a few years, and now he's pulling out the stops for a romp through "Crazy 1961," a celebration of his birth year in music, personal stories and historical anecdotes. History has never been so much fun, and so convincing is Nadler in his recounting of that year that you may leave thinking 1961 on a par with 1492, 1776 or 1945.

In fact, Nadler effectively conveys what a pivotal time it was: The Music Man and Gypsy closed at the same time Bob Dylan and the Beatles were giving their first public performances, hinting at a new era to come, while Judy Garland was enjoying her last great triumph at Carnegie Hall; the Bay of Pigs, the first troops sent to Vietnam, nuclear testing, and the first human to orbit Earth all portended both the dangers and possibilities of the growth of technology; and the Freedom Writers took an integrated bus trip and apartheid was condemned in South Africa during that year—the same that saw the birth of future president Barack Obama and the hundredth anniversary of the Civil War.

Nadler himself revealed that he was born on the same day that Patsy Cline recorded "Crazy" (October 14) and, known for occasionally being maniacal on stage, the irony wasn't lost on him. A further tale of his mother holding off his birth so he wouldn't be born on Friday the 13th adds additional hilarity to the tale. All of this is a master lesson in writing an act—especially the way he weaves the personal with the historical and with the musical underscoring. But what of the music itself, presumably the reason one would go to a Mark Nadler show in the first place?

Nadler offers up a representative variety of songs from 1961, adding the flair of his own creative arrangements. (As a special treat, at the performance I attended, Ervin Drake, who wrote that year's "It Was a Very Good Year," made famous by Frank Sinatra, was in the audience.) He opens the show with a mash-up of "Once in a Lifetime" (Anthony Newley, Leslie Bricusse) and "Comes Once in a Lifetime" (Jule Styne, Betty Comden, Adolph Green). Nadler wastes no time giving us his trademark energy—in fact, his voice was a bit hoarse, which had me wondering how he was going to get through an hour-plus show.

Fortunately, like a trained thoroughbred, Nadler knows how to pace himself and add different colors and textures to keep things exciting until he crosses the finish line. While a song like "Cruella De Vil" (Mel Leven) fits his style like a glove, "Dedicated to the One I Love" (Lowman Pauling, Ralph Bass), slowed down to a lullaby, was a welcome surprise. It not only showed his tender side, but showed off his virtuoso piano playing—on this, he accompanied himself while the quartet behind him took a break. His musicians are virtuosos themselves, but the wall of sound often buries Nadler's own accomplishment.

Nadler brilliantly delivers "Love Makes the World Go 'Round" (Bob Merrill) with a game-show smile, while interleaving the song's verses with frightening imagery of 1961 military actions, highlighting both the year's danger and promise. From there, he moves into Noël Coward's "Sail Away," with its lyric "When the storm clouds are riding through a winter sky, sail away"—but giving the song a mad, honky-tonk feel, ending with a flourish. This juxtaposition of happy songs and disturbing events pulls the listener back in time and makes him feel that, indeed, we may have been on the brink of madness that year.

Kudos to sound technician Nik Santiago, who lends an outerworldly, eerie echo to "Adrift on a Star" (Jacques Offenbach, E.Y. Harburg), used to illustrate the burgeoning space program. Nadler also brings something entirely new to the popular standard "Crazy" (Willie Nelson), turning it into a jazzy big band number. Mark Lopeman on tenor sax gives the number extra oomph. One-upping any previous stunt-singing he (or perhaps anyone else) has done before, he closes with a medley of the Top 50 (yes, fifty!) hits of the year, so as not to disappoint anyone who thinks he missed anything. He sails through this while holding up cards that keep count of all fifty. "Moon River," one of the most beautiful songs of that or any year, makes a fitting encore.

Besides Lopeman (reeds), the terrific band consists of Scott Johnson (guitar), Robert Sabin (bass), and Sherrie Maricle (drums).

With Nadler's energy and unending creativity, we can look forward to his reviving "Crazy 1961" in 2061 for his hundredth birthday. But why wait? Nadler is well worth seeing, now or any year.

By Kevin Scott Hall

 

Wednesday 15th June 2011
Adelaide Festival Centre, King William Road, Adelaide

If you have seen Mark Nadler’s late night Broadway Hootenanny shows in the Piano Bar then you were probably somewhere in the room last night, or already have tickets for the second show, and have no need to read this review. Adelaide has taken Nadler to its heart and his legion of fans would not dream of missing this opportunity to see more of him.

Mark Nadler was both conceived and born in 1961 and, in his 50th year, this performance is all about that momentous date. This, unlike his late shows where anything and everything might happen, is a carefully crafted, structured and scripted show, the sort of thing that he actually prefers to do. He looks back at that year, not only singing many of the songs, but also referring to many of the events that occurred. If all history lessons were this much fun, absenteeism in schools would be a thing of the past.

It was, incidentally, when John F. Kennedy was sworn in as president and another president, Barrack Obama, was born. Across the Atlantic a future princess, Lady Diana, was also born. It was the year that Crazy, the song in the show’s title, was first heard. Music was changing. The predominance of American rock ‘n’ roll, with artists like Elvis and Ray Charles, was about to be challenged by the British, with The Beatles making their first public appearance.

With consummate ease, Nadler weaves together all of these diverse elements with his own story and that of his parents, delivering facts and figures, singing the songs and injecting loads of humour. He has a medley of the top fifty hits of 1961 that he rattles off in only a few minutes, helping the audience to keep count as he does so. You must go, if just to hear that one.

He is ably assisted by a great four piece band, with drums, guitar, reeds and bass adding to his own astounding piano playing. Over the years, a few local musicians have become synonymous with the Festival, in demand by all of the visiting performers. First there was the Adelaide Art Orchestra, then that superb accompanist, Matthew Carey and, the latest on that list, the incredible bassist, Alana Dawes who, was part of this band.

You have one more chance to see this terrific performance tonight, if there are any tickets left. With Nadler’s popularity he should, perhaps, have had a few more shows added. Hurry to see Mr. Cabaret while you can.

Reviewed by Barry Lenny, Arts Editor, Glam Adelaide

 Adelaide Cabaret Festival 2011: Mark Nadler "Crazy 1961"

It’s true, 1961 was a very good year for popular cabaret performer Mark Nadler — after all, it was the year he was born in the small American town of Waterloo, Iowa…  And, 50 years later, he’s back for an unprecedented fourth time at the Adelaide Cabaret Festival 2011 celebrating all the hit songs and political events that happened as he made his debut into the world.

On stage, Nadler recounts how he was supposed to be a Friday the 13th baby but his mother was a superstitious soul and, even after her waters broke, crossed her legs at 11.30pm and refused to push her baby out until midnight. This enforced extra time inside his mother’s body had a profound effect on the young boy as he tongue-in-cheek attributed this to a profound lack of desire to ever return to that part of a female’s anatomy (alluding to a preference to ‘tails and balls’).  Not a closet queen but somehow reminiscent of fellow American entertainer Liberace at the piano, even though Nadler’s attire was drab by contrast (a grey suit, shirt and tie). From the cheers and applause that greeted Mark Nadler as he entered the cabaret salle for his ‘Crazy 1961? musical reminiscences it was clear the artist had garnered a prolific following in Adelaide, not least from his popular and memorable stints at the Adelaide Festival Centre’s Piano Bar.

Nadler’s one-hour structured offering passed in a flash with wry jokes, excellent music arrangements (except for that of Gilbert Becaud’s Et Maintenant, which somehow failed to please this French purist, but I was alone in this respect as everyone else present seemed to love it) and boundless flamboyant energy. No tap dancing this time but plenty of sleek and vintage moves. The names of historical greats such as John F Kennedy and Fidel Castro mingle with those of Yuri Gagarin, Rudolf Nureyev and the Beatles as having made an impact on that golden year for vastly differing reasons. That particular period was also perceived as a memorable cusp of musical change from crooning and Broadway theatre to the birth of the international love affair with rock n roll.

Nadler’s Banquet Room show culminated with a rousing rendition and countdown of snippets of no-less-than 50 oldies but goodies from 1961. And, after a standing ovation from his enthusiastic audience, the artist concluded with an emotive encore of Moon River and a whole lot of love flowing from the stage and back again!

By Felicity Rai - June 20th, 2011

WE can't get enough of Mark Nadler. He's the good spirit of the Cabaret Festival, a bottomless well of wit and talent.

He's become an institution in the piano bar. But also he can fill the Playhouse or pack out the Banquet Room with a structured show.
Crazy is based on the year of Nadler's birth - and 1961 turns out to be special in many ways, being, as Nadler points out, on the cusp between the golden era of musical theatre and rock and roll. Nadler had done lots of homework and the show is meaty as well as lots of fun - and his songs sometimes are quite profound, spurring moments of serious reflections that only a performer of Nadler's quality and charisma could dare to elicit from an audience.
He sings the morality tale of The World Through Children's Eyes, a thumping version of Cruella De Vil, a heart-rending When I'm Away From You, a furious Ordinary People, Crazy and, to top off the show, a sizzling segue of 1961's top hits - 50 of them.

Bedazzlingly brilliant. From the personal to the political, from the delicate to the passionate, he holds his audience rapt. Accompanied by a fine band, Nadler's performance is taut, almost athletic with his vocal energy and powerful virtuoso keyboarding.

Samela Harris - June 20, 2011