Steve Ross Press STEVE ROSS - C'MON AND HEAR: AN IRVING BERLIN JULY 4th CELEBRATION Birdland, NY A themed evening with Steve Ross is as illuminating as it is entertaining. With cards-face-up fidelity, original embellishment, and the kind of indisputable panache that never sacrifices emotion for sophistication, Ross tonight offers a high-spirited celebration of Irving Berlin, “Russia’s best export after vodka.” As exemplified by a jaunty “Alexander’s Ragtime Band,” Ross’ lucid musicianship, aided by the excellent Jered Egan on bass, is more effective than a full band in capturing the intention of Berlin’s of-the-people oeuvre. The pianist effortlessly delivers light, tangy ragtime. Selective history and anecdotes act as bridges, not filler. Composer/lyricist Israel Isidore Baline (1888 -1989) fled a Russian pogrom, landing on New York’s Lower East Side. After stints as a singing waiter and song plugger, he began to write in earnest, catching ragtime fever. Ross describes the genre as “rhythms that came up the Mississippi to sit on marching tempo,” adroitly demonstrating with “Play a Simple Melody.” We’re treated to excerpts from several vivacious songs, including a percussive “When the Midnight Choo-Choo Leaves for Alabam”’ that appears to have fancy footwork. “I Love a Piano,” one of our host’s favorites, is as dancey as it gets. Ross is able to make exuberanceeloquent. Higher octaves arrive quiet-difficult and effective. “Mandy” is equally infectious. “...so don’t you linger...” he sings boyishly, pointing at/warning the audience. Gestures come easily tonight, drawing us in. “When I Lost You,” Berlin’s first ballad, written upon the devastating, post-honeymoon death of his bride, is melodic, yet profound in its grief: “I lost the sunshine and roses/I lost the heavens so blue/I lost the beautiful rainbow/I lost the morning dew....” “Say It Isn’t So”—moving like chiffon and marabou, and a smoky, sotto voce “How Deep Is the Ocean? (How High Is the Sky)” show mastery of melancholy ardor. Restrained performance is affecting. Apocryphally sharing a taxi, Alexander Korda asked Berlin if he’d written “the war song we need,” whereupon the writer began to concoct “It’s a Lovely Day Tomorrow” in his head. It’s easy to imagine stay-at-home women and posted soldiers’ poignant reactions. “Blue Skies” follows with a hopeful, upbeat arrangement influenced by the performer’s classical training. Crossover occurs several times during the show, adding richness and originality surprisingly without undue weight. Ross calls the honoree “a nighttime boy,” pointing out that the iconic “Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning” was eminently personal. Several compositions from the 1920s and 1930s, when Berlin was writing for Broadway as well as for vocalists, emerge sentimental, not dusty. Ross’ uncanny empathy spotlights the timelessness of lyrics carried by tunes like crocheted antimacassars. “...I’ll be loving you, ‘Always’” drifts down like a feather. George Kaufman, recognizing too much of a commitment, suggested instead “I’ll Be Loving You, Thursday.” In fact, he wrote a full parody. Where else would one be privy to this gem but at a Steve Ross show? We next hear the hip-swinging, consonant-dropping “Harlem on My Mind”—replete with wah- wah—inspired by Josephine Baker, but far from her own inclination; “Let Me Sing and I’m Happy” a shoulder-shifting, hotsie-totsie number popularized by Al Jolson, here deftly festooned with excerpts from “Swanee”; and a rendition of “Puttin’ on the Ritz” that “paired Berlin’s common touch with Fred Astaire’s acquired sophistication...(much like Ross’ own.) It’s interesting how it all worked out. That’s our country, you see.” A rousing version of “Let Yourself Go” rides the tails of this Follow the Fleet number, beginning as slo-mo “jazz hot.” Exploratory treatment of the song in conjunction with its predecessor resembles that of a concerto. The astonishing arrangement ratchets up to speedy, rhythmic insistence and back with numerous riffs between. “Relax!” the performer intones with uber sangfroid. Continuing in Astaire mode, “Cheek to Cheek” and “Let’s Face the Music and Dance” sparkle with romance. “...Dance with me...” he invites us with a sweeping gesture of inclusion. Songs we take for granted arrive like haunting truths rather than polished insouciance. How does he do that? Ross’ encore is, unexpectedly, “God Bless America.” Many stand. We all sing. It’s quite a moment. “Mr. Berlin has made our Christmases white, our skies blue, and our hearts young.” Alix Cohen, Cabaret Scenes, June 28, 2017 STEVE ROSS - MY MANHATTAN Birdland, NY There are certain entertainers who arrive at a place where they can pretty much do no wrong. Steve Ross is one of them. He’s as impeccable at the piano as he is in his natty attire and in his cosmopolitan persona. His performances are a grand musicale of fluidity, with informative narrative flowing into song and back again. It’s like being washed in a glorious musical wave. In My Manhattan, a celebration of Ross’ 47 years in residence on this isle, the Ross effect was in full and delightful force. Countless songs have been written about the city of New York; Ross curated an eclectic mix spanning well over a hundred years and covering a range of composers, moods and emotions. Beginning with a few bars of a soft and gentle “Give My Regards to Broadway” (George M. Cohan), the singer launched into the amusing “Don’t Monkey with Broadway” by his “favorite Episcopalian composer,” Cole Porter. It turns out that Ross is not only terribly articulate and sophisticated, but he’s also a pretty funny guy. He not only sings and plays, but his text is frequently droll, and when he sings a novelty song there’s an extra measured twist of wry. The nostalgia tour of My Manhattan began in the way back when with a trio of oldies, “The Bowery Waltz” (1892, Percy Gaunt), “Sidewalks of New York” (1894, Charles B Lawlor/James W. Blak), and “The Streets of New York (In Old New York)” (1906, Victor Herbert). Moving ahead to the modern era, there were staples in Stephen Sondheim: “Broadway Baby and “Another Hundred People,” Rodgers and Hart: “ I’ll Take Manhattan,” with extended verses, and “At the Roxy Music Hall,” as well as Kander and Ebb’s “City Lights.” Ross also included the unexpected in Peter Allen’s “Six Thirty Sunday Morning” and David Ackles’ “Subway to the Country.” Over the course of the evening the tunes kept piling up, a tour de force of high-level performance covering a wealth of aspects of New York life. This is a challenging repertoire, but Ross knows the material like the proverbial back of his hand, as illustrated throughout the evening, including polished deliveries of Cole Porter’s “Down in the Depths (Of the Ninetieth Floor)” and “Tuscaloosa’s Calling Me… But I’m Not Going” (Hank Beebe/Bill Heyer). As for delivery, well, the common denominator of the singing pianist is the total package. Most of these “saloon singers” are stronger on playing than on singing. Ross has a pleasant voice, but what he does with it in execution and interpretation has been honed to stunning perfection over the years. His playing has always been masterful; if Ross had elected a career as a concert pianist he would most likely have succeeded. Add to his talents composer. “Manhattan Moon,” words and music by Ross, was wonderfully evocative and reminiscent of a Cole Porter song. Therefore, what better way to end a superb celebration of Manhattan than with Porter and his “says it all tune,” “I Happen to Like New York.” As an encore, coming full circle, “Give My Regards to Broadway” was launched into as a robust sing-along by an audience utterly gratified by this swell celebration of Steve Ross and the isle of Manhattan. Marilyn Lester, Theater Pizzazz, March 22, 2017 CAUGHT IN THE ACT STEVE ROSS - MY MANHATTAN Birdland, NY Few, if anyone, can convey the excitement, romance, sophistication and many dimensions of New York City in song as well as Steve Ross. His show at Birdland was a witty, informative and passionate paean to The Big Apple, a city that he deeply loves. He opened with two songs about Broadway, “Give My Regards to Broadway” which evolved into “Please Don’t Monkey with Broadway.” Throughout the one-hour plus set, Ross examined, through songs, various aspects of life in New York, adding some pithy, and often humorous, commentary along the way. He presented some of the earlier popular songs about New York, titles like “The Bowery,” “East Side, West Side,” “Streets of New York” and “Do the New York.” Rodgers and Hart often turned their attention to New York City with songs such as “Manhattan,” “I Got to Get Back to New York,” “At the Roxy Music Hall” and “A Tree in the Park.” Likewise did Cole Porter. Ross wonderfully combined Porter’s ironic song of love lost, “Down in the Depths (on the 90th Floor)” with the acceptance present in “Just One of Those Things,” also by Porter. Many other Broadway songwriters turned their attention to the City with songs like “Every Street’s a Boulevard in Old New York,” from Hazel Flagg, “Broadway Baby” from Follies, Tuscaloosa’s Calling Me, But I’m Not Going,” from the show of the same name, and “When You’re Far Away From New York Town,” from Jennie. Ross cleverly combined two show tunes, “Lonely Street,” from On the Town, and “Another Hundred People,” from Company, into a musical picture of the challenges of living in New York City.