Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)

Ten Reasons Why You should See This Show

Reviews and Quotes:

Danny Kaye Hit Becomes a Russian Music Survey

by Stephen Holden
New York Times, January 10, 2003

It takes a comic spark plug touched with brilliance to pull off the kind of tour de force that the aniacally exuberant singer, pianist and cutup Mark Nadler has brought (through Jan. 25) to the Firebird Upstairs Supper Club, the opulent new cabaret atop the Firebird restaurant at 365 West 46th Street. In keeping with the club's jewel-box décor and rich Russian cuisine, Mr. Nadler is performing his one-man show, "Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)," a zany tutorial in modern Russian music spun off from one of the greatest patter songs ever written.

That song, "Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)" became an instant classic when introduced by Danny Kaye in "Lady in the Dark" in 1941. With music by Kurt Weill and lyrics by Ira Gershwin, this torrent of tongue-twisting verbiage drops the names of 49 composers, from Malichevsky, Rubinstein and Arensky to Gretchnaninoff, Kvoschinsky and Rachmaninoff during its mad dash to an imaginary finish ine.

Those names, even the most esoteric ones, are not imaginary. As Mr. Nadler's show careers wildly along, he offers tiny musical fragments along with instant analyses (and in some cases personality profiles) of a good number of those 49. In between, he makes fanciful leaps of connection between his research and a dozen first-rate songs by composers, from Rodgers and Hart to Adam Guettel to John Wallowitch. Kurt Weill and Ogden Nash's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself," for instance, is connected to "Stranger in Paradise," adapted from a melody by the Russian composer Borodin, whom Mr. Nadler tells us was an extraordinarily nice guy.

In his musical sweep and show-business savvy, Mr. Nadler might be compared to Victor Borge, except that their stage personalities are almost diametrically opposed. Where Mr. Borge, the Danish pianist and
comedian, was a sly, suave prankster, Mr. Nadler is a raucous, excitable vaudevillian descended from Al Jolson. Mr. Nadler doesn't tease the emotions. With his ferocious pianism and crowing delivery, he is a traditional show-biz virtuoso of what might be called the hard sell. When he's on, he's "on."

Holy Stravinsky, The Russians Are Back!

by Rex Reed
January 20, 2003

Years before the plague called reality TV, Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin wrote the ultimate celebrity challenge—a song entitled "Tchaikovsky (And Other Russians)". Performed by an unknown chorus boy named Danny Kaye, the song made its historic debut in the 1941 Broadway musical, Lady in the Dark. It also made Danny Kaye a star. This tongue twister—which consisted of the names of 49 unpronounceable Russian composers that Mr. Kaye rattled off like artillery fire in a breathtaking 39 seconds—has, for obvious reasons, rarely been performed since.
But musical legerdemain is now being repeated nightly by a nimble Jack-n-the-box named Mark Nadler in a winning new cabaret show called—what else?—Tschaikowsky (And Other Russians) that’s heating up a cold January like Dr. Zhivago’s samovar.
Appropriately, Mr. Nadler’s show has found the perfect showcase. He is inaugurating a brand-new cabaret room in the swell digs above the Firebird restaurant on West 46th Street. With its gilt-edged crown moldings, red walls of moiré silk, paintings of prancing, half-clad scarf dancers from Diaghilev ballets, and a centerpiece chandelier clamped to the ceiling with a chain, "kitsch" may be a better word for the new Firebird Club than "elegant." But it’s the ultimate setting for Stravinsky, Rumshinsky, Mussorgsky and dozens of other Russians who pepper Mr. Nadler’s act. This is not a run-of-the-mill cabaret act for dopes. Mr. Nadler expects his audience to bring along a bit of knowledge already. "If you can afford this cover charge," he informs the audience, "I probably don’t have to tell you who Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky is." Let the fireworks begin!
Mr. Nadler may take slightly longer rolling all those names like Sapelnikoff, Dimitrieff, Tscherepnin and Kryjanowsky off his tongue than Danny Kaye did, but he savors every one. Telling little stories about each Russian, separating the truth from the gossip, Mr. Nadler dissects Ira Gershwin’s lyrics, analyzing them like cargo passing through an airport-security X-ray, and keeps you in stitches all the way. He also plays a soupçon of each composer’s work, "so you all get to know these guys." (Know them? I can’t even type them.) All of which leads to segues in which he samples new songs, old evergreens and contemporary styles on which all 49 composers exerted a distinct influence. The result is like Victor Borge meets Hellzapoppin’!, as Mr. Nadler slings sheet music over his head, scattering everything from Rimsky-Korsakov to Lorenz Hart all over the carpet. Threading the song together with personal anecdotes, he compares Tchaikovsky’s tribulations in 19th-century Russia with his growing up Jewish in Iowa, which somehow leads to the "Ugly Duckling" from Frank Loesser’s Hans Christian Andersen, which also starred Danny Kaye. When he gets to the lyrics about the "little black swans," his fingers are playing passages from Swan Lake. A thought or two about how those mean little ducks ended up in a sauce l’orange leads to Cole Porter’s "I Concentrate on You." Here, Mr. Nadler demonstrates a keen grasp of sensitive phrasing and soft, burnished tones seldom heard in his previous work (or, for that matter, in the rest of this act). Mr. Nadler should trust himself more on love songs; he’s developing a smoky ballad style that is a neat contrast to his usual mayhem.
But it’s his ability to imitate an exploding filing cabinet that makes this goofy, accomplished performer unique. He’s a combination of all the Marx Brothers put together, and you never know what he’ll do next. A few bars of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet leads to an impromptu discussion of a PBS documentary he just watched about the teenage brain. The corny theme by Borodin that turned into "Stranger in Paradise" in Kismet may seem an obvious choice to illustrate the Russian musical heritage, but after a couple of bars, Mr. Nadler halts abruptly and—resorting to an old trick perfected by the great jazz diva Frances Faye—declares, "I can’t do it; I hate that song!" Instead, he investigates the more obscure but similar theme in Ogden Nash and Kurt Weill’s "I’m a Stranger Here Myself."
The revelation of the evening is "Manhattan Blue," a navy blue torch song by veteran saloon singer and bon vivant John Wallowitch, which should be required listening for all wannabe cabaret singers looking for material that is hauntingly different.
Dashing around the room, rearranging the furniture, and blowing kisses to friends and celebrities, Mr. Nadler turns Ira Gershwin’s "I Can’t Get Started" into breakneck-paced chop suey. Nothing to do with the Russians, you say. But the music was by Vladimir Dukelsky, a.k.a. Vernon Duke. It all blends, see? Comparing Shostakovich’s fight to escape the repressive Stalinist regime with Mary Rodgers’ struggle to overcome the powerful legacy of her father Richard is, admittedly, a big stretch, but it leads into a lovable soft-shoe routine from Ms. Rodgers’ Once Upon a Mattress, performed in a sitting position while firmly planted at the piano bench. Part of Mr. Nadler’s charm is that what he does is risky, impudent and defies description. I won’t even tell you what he does to Sokoloff and Kopyloff, or Gretchaninoff and Rachmaninoff. As Ira Gershwin rhymed, "You’ve already undergone enoff."
Thisamazing feat of research and chutzpah may sound like an impossible task bordering dangerously on tedium, but Mark Nadler is a musical Punchinello who pulls more rabbits out of a hat than the teenage Houdini. Talented and fearless, he never runs out of fresh ideas, and he has the wacky style and infectioushumor to pull them off. Tackling an entertainment project this cheeky and daunting, I think he may also be a little bit crazy. That’s the best part. In an otherwisedreary season of predictable revivals and ho-hum reruns, Mark Nadler an original. Mad joy is his signature, but I like the way he spreads it around.

He's 'Russian' around with a sly cabaret act

From the second he bounds onto the stage of the beautiful new FireBird Upstairs Supper Club, at 365 W. 46th St., Mark Nadler exhibits a spellbinding manic energy.
Entitled "Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)," his act begins with the 1941 Ira Gershwin/Kurt Weill song with the same name, whose lyrics incorporate the names of 48 largely obscure Russian composers.
Nadler, who has a rich voice, rips through it at requisite breakneck speed, then sets out — only half-facetiously — to explain who all these composers were.
Since he is also a splendid pianist, he plays musical examples that often suggest these composers should not be obscure.
Sometimes the musical illustrations are wittily absurd — like his demonstration that if you play the notes of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumble Bee" as chords, they resemble those his pupil Stravinsky used in "Rite of Spring."
Often the "musicology" is merely a pretext to sing. Discussing Tchaikovsky's loneliness, for example, he launches into a tender version of Frank Loesser's "Ugly Duckling," which he interlards with passages from "Swan Lake."
The act goes far beyond its ostensibly giddy premise.
I hesitate to say it has an intellectual subtext, because I don't want to frighten anyone.
Nadler's premise is that the artists we remember are those who take risks. To prove it, he sings works by a wild range of composers, from Vernon Duke to Adam Guettel to the too-little-known John Wallowitch — all with deep resonance.
He even does Stephen Sondheim's "Next," from "Pacific Overtures," which I never expected to hear in a nightclub.
What Nadler demonstrates is that great cabaret is really theater, stimulating and exhilarating, outrageous and hilarious.

Originally published on January 8, 2003

Time Out New York

The Siegels' Nightlife Notes
THEATREMANIA.com
Nov 8, 2002
A Cabaret Kaleidescope
By: Barbara & Scott Siegel

The art of cabaret is often considered to have reached its height when a gifted singer performs great songs with sensational arrangements. Well, cabaret also achieves something akin to perfection when a musical comedy madman named Mark Nadler takes on the famous patter song "Tchaikowski" (Kurt Weill/Ira Gershwin) and then proceeds to create a comically brilliant show in which everything flows from the wellspring of the act's title tune.

The act is called Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians) and it had its New York City premiere at the Algonquin Hotel's Oak Room during the Cabaret Convention. It was part of the Oak Room's Cabaret Cavalcade; but that night, with Nadler at the piano, it was more like a Cabaret Kaleidescope. He brought color, originality, and an almost infinite sense of possibility to what many people incorrectly believe is an archaic art form.

The act begins with Nadler's performance of "Tschaikowsky," which was one of Danny Kaye's signature songs. It's a blazing opener that sets the stage for Nadler's extraordinary conceit. After singing the song, he notes that people always ask him how he remembers the lyrics, a wild and woolly string of the names of approximately four dozen Russian composers, ranging from the famous to the footnote. He replies that it's easy if you know who the Russian composers are. With that, he launches into a generous one-hour plus act in which he identifies the reason -- musical and/or personal -- why each composer was included in the song. If this description makes the show sound academic or esoteric, let us assure you that it is anything but. nothing is sacred to Nadler except laughter, and he sings and sasses his way through these Russian composers (and their relationship to Ira Gershwin's lyric) with more relish than you'll find at Nathan's.

As he comically chomps through selections of Russian classical music, Nadler gives us a history lesson we won't soon forget; he also performs about a dozen other songs, many of them far more familiar. He seamlessly connects tunes as disparate as "I Concentrate on You" (Cole Porter), "Only a Broken Heart" (Carol Hall), and "The Ugly Duckling" (Frank Loesser) to his narrative with an almost miraculous ease by placing them in the continuum of music that followed "Tschaikowsky."

Nadler is a performer for whom the word "Big" was invented. Nonetheless, he can be delicate when the music calls upon him to be so. And while his voice isn't the prettiest instrument in cabaret, it is surprisingly expressive. Despite his well earned reputation for edgy, in-your-face humor, he can also do a wonderful job with a passionate ballad. It is, in fact, his ability to modulate his performance style that keeps the driving narrative of this show from exhausting the audience. Nadler packs an amazing amount of research into the act but tosses it off with the brio of a performer who is confident that he will always have more ascinating nuggets of information to impart, better musical examples to make his points, and ever more wonderful songs to sing. That confidence is well-earned.

If anything in the world of New York nightlife is remotely comparable to Nadler's show, it is Rob Kapilow's entertaining deconstruction of standards for Lincoln Center's American Songbook Series. Kapilow will be at it again on November 15 with a Bernstein program featuring performances by Brian d'Arcy James and Ana Marie Andricain, at the Kaplan Penthouse. This is exactly where Mark Nadler's Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians) should be playing next year; it is a first cousin to Kapilow's concept, but from the loopy side of the family. Nadler's show is a natural for the Lincoln Center series because it's a graduate level course on the Great American Songbook and its antecedents, as well as one of the most inspired and entertaining musical comedy acts of this or any other year.

Rushing through the Russians on a giddy musical express

by Robert Hurwitt
March 2, 2004

It was the song, many say, that made Danny Kaye a star -- Ira Gershwin's tongue-wrenching compilation of Russian composers, with all those forbidding Slavic consonants, sung to an ever-more-rapid tune by Kurt Weill and delivered with astonishing dexterity by Kaye in "Lady in the Dark" in 1941. Mark Nadler goes Kaye one better, opening his solo show "Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)" by singing and playing that same song at just about Kaye's maximum velocity, his lips popping consonants almost as fast as his fingers fly over the keys.

Then he proceeds to up the ante on Gershwin and Weill as well. Nadler takes their little novelty tune, his title song, and spins it into a 90-minute tour de force musical pastiche and comedy lecture that covers every one of the 48 composers cited in the lyrics and a number of American musical theater all- stars besides. It's fast. It's flip. It's whimsically erudite. ....... Word must have gotten out that this show was something special, considering the sizable audience at the Geary on Sunday. Greeting what was "clearly a very sophisticated group" -- either for choosing a musical evening over the Academy Awards or having learned how to tape them -- he explained the show's central conceit. The key to memorizing all those Russian composers' names is to know who each is and what his music sounds like.

Working on a monumental, sonorous, 10-foot-long Fazioli concert grand -- playing with impressive dexterity, comically grandiose flourishes and even a keyboard-soft shoe duet -- Nadler runs through at least a scrap of the music of every one of the 48 composers from Feodor Akimenko and Nikolay Artciboushcheff to Sergey Vasilenko and Vassily Zolotareff. That includes quite a few more familiar names -- Borodin, Prokofiev, Glinka, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky and the like -- most accompanied by cleverly enlightening anecdotes as well.

The quips and musical snatches come quick, Nadler tossing aside one score after another with a decisive "Next!" The segues are humorously varied. Some are logical -- from a teacher to a student, say, as in his brisk demonstration of how to turn Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumble-Bee" into Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring." Some are geographical. Some are more free association.

Commenting on Tchaikovsky's notoriously lonely life, Nadler swings into a beautifully sweet and funny rendition of Frank Loesser's "The Ugly Duckling" (another Danny Kaye number), nicely sung, inventively mimed and brightly ornamented with passages from "Swan Lake." No, Loesser wasn't a Russian. But neither, really, was Vladimir Dukelsky, despite his inclusion in the title song. Better known as Vernon Duke, he wrote the music for Gershwin's "I Can't Get Started," which Nadler tears off with impressively comic rapidity.

Nadler adeptly inserts a dozen such songs into the show, just enough to keep his basic concept -- as funny as it is -- from getting tired....... Nadler is a commanding, energetic and inventive stylist. His heartfelt, combative take on Weill and Ogden Nash's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself" and his beguilingly wry rendition of Carol Hall's "Only a Broken Heart" are as moving as his seated soft-shoe version of "Very Soft Shoes" (Mary Rodgers and Marshall Barer) is hilarious......................

Nadler is a true original. And this is a sweet, light and brightly inventive show.

An Exhilarating Performance
by Mark Nadler
Tchaikowsky and Other Russians

by Richard Connema

American Conservatory Theatre has inaugurated a series called Evenings at the Geary, with New York cabaret artist Mark Nadler headlining a madcap cabaret act called Tchaikowsky (and other Russians). This is 90 minutes of tour de force comedy with brief biographies of 48 Russian composers. Many of these masters of music I had never heard before.

Mark Nadler is primary known in New York, where he starred in and co-wrote the Off Broadway Gershwin revue American Rhapsody, which was nominated for the Lucille Lortel and Drama Desk awards in 2001. He also received a MAC Award for outstanding musical revue. This talented singer/pianist has appeared at Carnegie Hall, plus New York engagements at Sardi's, the Oak Room at the Algonquin, the Russian Tea Room and the Cinegrill at the Hollywood Roosevelt (two years of Thursdays at this famous cabaret lounge). The New York Times said "with his ferocious pianism and crowing delivery, Nadler is a traditional show biz virtuoso," and Howard Kissel of the New York Daily News said "What Nadler demonstrates is that great cabaret is really great theater."

Tchaikowsky is a fast paced, outrageous and hilarious show inspired by Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin's side-splitting, tongue-twisting patter song of the same name. One of my earliest memories is hearing Danny Kaye sing this song on the stage of the Alvin Theatre in Lady In the Dark in 1941. I was in high school at the time, but I can still remember Mr. Kaye rattling off the names of 48 Russian composers in 43 seconds. Mr. Nadler starts the evening's proceedings by singing the comic song. He tells the audience that after they hear about the lives of these composers, they all will be able to sing the song. He also says that San Francisco audiences will be able to grasp the importance of these men because they are the most sophisticated group next to New Yorkers.

Nadler gives a freewheeling spin through more than four dozen composers from Arensky to Rachmaninoff and features snippets of their works. He comically munches through these classical selections, dissecting the theoretical influence of masters like Rimsky-Korsakoff and delivering charmingly witty monologue about Tschaikovky's troubled life, ending with Frank Loesser's "The Ugly Duckling" song.

The New York artist tells a great story about one of the "Russian composers" Vladimir Dukelsy, given the Amerian name Vernon Duke by George Gershwin. Mark goes into a great arrangement of the composer's "I Can't Get Started with You." A highlight is one of my favorites, Kurt Weill and Ogden Nash's wonderful, melodic "I'm a Stranger Here Myself," presented in relation to Rimsky-Korsakoff's use of notes in a composition.

Mark does a very clever tap dance routine while sitting at the piano singing and playing Mary Rodgers "Very Soft Shoes" from Once Upon a Mattress. He gets a little carried away on Adam Guettel's "Icarus" and Sondheim's "Next," however, pounding the poor keyboard of the ten foot long Fazioli concert grand so that it drowns out his voice.

Mark Nadler is a wonderful, outrageous singer/pianist/comedian who holds center stage for the full 90 minutes. His ideas are brilliant and so is his execution of the witty remarks. As Rex Reed of the New York Observer remarked "He's a combination of all of the Marx Brothers put together." This is an evening of a dazzling performance by a consummated cabaret artist.

THE ADELAIDE REVIEW

Tschaikowaky (And Other Russians)
Michael Morley
July 8, 2005

While Divas held centre stage for much of the first week of the Festival, the second week allowed two of the Festival’s divos to show their class. Andrew Lippa was the major featured composer/performer this year, with two shows devoted to compilations of songs from his various works, along with a performance of his musical John & Jen. In the midst of all this, he still managed to slot in a Masterclass on interpreting musical theatre songs, which was a model both of pedagogy and insights into the relationship between text and music. Not only students but professionals had their eyes opened to the essence of putting a song across, which is never about generalised or fussy emotions, but always about clarity in performance and connecting with the audience.
To go from this witty and instructive lecture-demonstration to Mark Nadler’s astonishing one-man show Tchaikowsky (and Other Russians) was to be reminded yet again of the versatility of figures like himself and Lippa. Taking as his starting point the Weill/Gershwin tongue twister which races through 48 Russian composers in not much more than a minute, Nadler gave a small but wildly appreciative audience a musical history lesson, a ridiculously casual yet virtuoso demonstration of the art of piano playing, some knockout interpretations of songs such as Sondheim’s Next and Porter’s I Concentrate on You, an account of Loesser’s The Ugly Duckling which put it in a completely new light, and a soft shoe shuffle and tap dance – all the while seated at the keyboard and keeping up a droll commentary on every one of the composers and their music. This was like Victor Borge, Leonard Bernstein and Tom Lehrer rolled into one and on speed: whatever it is Mr Nadler has running through his veins in performances such as this, and (with singer K.T. Nadler) the equally engaging celebration of the music of Jule Styne, Everything’s Coming Up Roses, I’d love a teaspoon of it.

Edinburgh Fringe

by Kelly Apter
August, 2007

Show tunes with stand-up

Armed with a truckload of sheet music, some forgotten musical gems and a biting Jewish wit, Mark Nadler is like a male Barbra Streisand on speed. Opening with the Kurt Weill/Ira Gershwin song ‘Tschaikowsky’, featuring the unpronounceable names of 49 Russian composers, Nadler moves his lips at breakneck speed. Then, remarkably, he dissects the song, introducing us to each and every one of them.

Which sounds as dry as an old twig, but in actuality is fun all the way. Nadler’s love and loathing for each composer is demonstrated through witty anecdotes and musical illustrations. Interspersing the history lesson with little known songs from the likes of Rogers and Hart, Sondheim and Gershwin, Nadler proves himself to be not just an accomplished singer and musician, but a natural comedian.

By Kevin Stevens

Tschaikowsky (and other Russians) is a patter song, which was famously performed by Danny Kaye in the Broadway musical 'Lady in the Dark' with music by Kurt Weill and lyrics by Ira Gershwin. In his one-man show, Mark Nadler bursts onto the stage and launches into this song listing 48 Russian composers at high speed. Nadler then deconstructs the whole thing, and takes the audience on an educated journey, picking out a good handful and giving a mini lecture recital on each. We get musical fragments, songs and sketches, including songs from Rogers and Hart, Kurt Weill and a moving, yet funny, rendition of Ugly Ducking (also originally sung by Danny Kaye). At one point he brilliantly accompanies himself tap dancing at the piano - not an easy feat!

Mark is multi-talented, bursting with charisma and energy - so much so that you just cannot take your eyes off him. He has a very commanding stage presence and will remind you of many performers like Liberace, Gene Wilder and Eric Idle. Cabaret doesn't get better than this. Mesmerising, educational and highly entertaining.

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