Linda Lee was a determined woman. The once divorced socialite fell madly in love with a young Cole Porter (eight years her junior) in 1919 when she mistook him for hired entertainment at a party in Paris. He was charming, stylish, and clearly extremely talented (meeting before his music became the gold standard many consider them now). They shared an appetite for first class everything from clothing to travel, for socializing, highjinks, and for the spotlight. If Cole was rich, Linda was richer. They both had pedigree.

Linda accepted Cole’s homosexuality, his ongoing affairs, discreet and not so discreet, confident of his devotion to her. (At one point she even became pregnant by him in their joint wish to share a child. Unfortunately, she lost the baby). He wrote, she gardened. They partied. He wrote, she saw to it he wasn’t disturbed unless he wanted to be—then she gardened. And they partied. In thirty-five years, only once did she remove herself—to Europe—fearing Cole had actually fallen in love. The tragic accident of his fall from a horse and the doctor’s advice to amputate brought her running home to his side. She wouldn’t allow it. It would demoralize Cole. They stayed together through over thirty operations on his legs and her increasingly frail health (she died of emphysema six years before he did in 1954). Cole Porter was immensely successful during his marriage to Linda; his output was prodigious—not the least due to her support, attention and care. And he knew it.

Despite the glamorous life they led, the Porter’s marriage was not without issue or obstacle. It was rife with frustration, sadness and pain (through which they functioned with courage and pluck and Cole amazingly continued to produce.)

You’d never know the back story from this playlet. Any allusion to difficulty is reduced to a thirty second reference sandwiched between either happy songs or songs musically arranged to seem happy. Not only does Linda appear one dimensional, but to its great disservice, the music does as well! When “Miss Otis Regrets,” “Love For Sale,” and “Ridin’ High” are all delivered in the same jazzy, night club oriented manner, the lyrics are made secondary. (It should be noted here that the trio’s amplification was unnecessary in a room this intimate, that Stevie Holland obviously doesn’t need amplification, and that the balanced high volume of the band made everything sound tinny).

Cole Porter wrote an astonishing range of material. Linda’s story could have been told by utilizing the songs better, illustrating the rough spots as well as the high points through different arrangements. Instead, what might have been presented as an operatic history was minimized to a cabaret act.

The book, by Holland and her husband, Gary William Friedman, was fairly well written—peppered with quotes and anecdotes, showing Linda’s complete commitment to, and love of her husband, despite what we perceive as sacrifice—until two thirds of the way through the brief hour or so for which it played. The last fifteen minutes compressed the end of the Porter’s lives with a speed that dulled an emotional response to what was truly an affecting love story.

Stevie Holland has headlined at major New York City jazz venues including Dizzy’s Club Coca Cola and the Iridium Jazz Club as well as being the recipient of The Backstage Bistro Award “Outstanding Vocalist of the Year.” Holland’s talent is extremely apparent. Her voice is full, rich, and assured, especially delivering the more swinging numbers. (This is a lady who can scat!) She has stage presence to spare and relates easily to her audience. The Southern lilt with which she represents Linda Porter (who was from Kentucky) is credible, she’s well rehearsed, and doubtless feels sympathy as the wife of a composer herself, yet she seems uncomfortable except when singing. Of course, director Ben West might have intended to portray Linda as… strained. In which case, he’s succeeded.

With some adjustments, Love, Linda might be noteworthy for more than just the vocals.

Love Linda, The Life of Mrs. Cole Porter
Stevie Holland as Linda Porter
Gary William Friedman, arrangements & orchestrations
Ben West, Director
The Triad Theater
158 West 72nd Street
Through November 21
Wednesdays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 9:15 p.m.
Theatermania 212-352-3101