Andrea Marcovicci: I’m Feeling Like a Million
From one “incomparable” to another, Andrea Marcovicci devotes her 20th anniversary appearance at the Algonquin Hotel’s Oak Room I’m Feeling Like a Million to the single-named cabaret icon Hildegarde. But the icon of one age is not necessarily known in another, especially in an esoteric art form such as cabaret.
As Marcovicci succinctly states, Hildegarde, who died just last year at age 99, sustained her career strictly on the nightclub circuit, never gilding the lily by achieving fame and fortune in movies or the theater. Unlike past Marcovicci shows that were dedicated to Fred Astaire, Irving Berlin, and George Gershwin, where audiences knew what they were getting, this time most will be coming on faith, not knowing what music they’ll be hearing.
It happens that the musical choices are rich and far-ranging: Gershwin, Kern, Rodgers and Hart, and so on. But after 20 years, this audience rightfully comes first and foremost for Marcovicci. In that regard, they know exactly what to expect: smart patter, thoughtful interpretation of lyrics, and plenty of personality.
One of the great pleasures of Marcovicci’s show is the intelligence with which she puts them together. If you don’t know anything about Hildegarde now, not to worry; you’ll have plenty of fascinating factoids at your disposal after you’ve seen I’m Feeling Like a Million. Perhaps the most eye-opening bit of information is that it was her assistant, Anna Sosenko, who wrote Hildegarde’s first big hit in 1935, “Darling, Je vous aime beaucoup.” Also interesting is that the Gershwin tune “My Cousin in Milwaukee,” from Pardon My English, was actually inspired by Hildegarde, who hailed from that fair city.
Aided by the elegant, understated musical direction of Shelly Markham — an accompanist without peer in New York City — and the beautiful musicianship of Jered Egan on bass, Marcovicci presents a program of standards that are associated with Hildegarde in one way or another. She offers a peppy “I’m Feelin’ Like a Million,” a poignant “How Did He Look?”, and the evergreens “I’ll Be Seeing You” and “The Last Time I Saw Paris.”
These songs and others are put over with immaculate showmanship. Marcovicci plays this most difficult of rooms like a master, strolling among the tables and making eye contact — plus the occasional, gentle touch — with exquisite ease. You don’t go to a Marcovicci show to hear her sing for an hour, you go because she entertains you for an hour.
Eleanor Roosevelt called Hildegarde “the first lady of the supper clubs.” In that day and age, such a quote from one of the most admired women in America would surely pack any room. Now, few people other than Andrea Marcovicci can pack a room, so it’s fair to say that she is the new first lady of the supper clubs.
