A small volcano in a pompadour and red lips took the stage at The Metropolitan Room Monday night. Having performed abroad for much of the last thirty years, Sue Mathys seemed tentative at first with a New York cabaret audience. Some People (Jule Stein/Stephen Sondheim—from Gypsy) clearly showed this is a woman who should do a full evening of Ethel Merman, yet didn’t seem on the kind of sure ground exhibited with four Edith Piaf songs (in French) that followed. Wait until you hear that rolled r! Her rendition of Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien (Charles Dumont/Michel Vaucaire) was a personification of the strong, stubborn, defiant “Little Sparrow” without vulnerability others often allow. Alternately, the song L’Accordeoniste (Michel Emer) was imbued with an appropriate pathos. The verse snapped. Keys changed with long, elastic notes. Fingers became expressive.
As the evening progressed and she received enthusiastic applause, Mathys relaxed into poised, experienced stage presence and had more fun. What Was A Woman To Do (David Yazbek) was a perfect choice. He was magically long of lash; tragically short of cash-what was a woman to do? It’s relatively unknown and well suited to a brassy irony that seems so natural to the performer. Her version of Stephen Sondheim’s Could I Leave You may offer the first Upper WEST Side’s long suffering wife. Different, a touch schmaltzy, but no less valid.
Seerauberjenny (Kurt Weil, Bertold Brecht), sung in German, had the impact and confidence of the Piaf. Mathys spit, snapped, and flashed to perfection. Two numbers from Sunset Boulevard (Andrew Lloyd Webber/Don Black/Christopher Hampton) sent shivers up my spine. The performer’s silhouette on the back scrim was dramatic.
John Kander and Fred Ebb’s Love and Love Alone beginning with the lead-in dialogue, was well acted, but would’ve been more moving were it subdued rather than strident: When tomorrows come/And your heart is stone/What has made you numb?/Love and love alone.
The same could be said for the jaunty As We Stumble Along (Lisa Lambert/Greg Morrison) Lyrics like: …as we stumble, bumble, fumble, plumble along…are not anthem material.
Sue Mathys has formidable pipes and a musical theater actress’s ability to portray characters. Every song cannot be an eleven o’clock number, however. And too many were. Even those beginning more subdued often ended in fever pitch. Had this been an entire evening of Piaf or Weil/Brecht (a thought for Café Sabarsky) the sequence would still have needed quieter, gentler choices…which exist. A rendition of Irving Berlin’s I Got Lost in His Arms was among the very few songs indicating the performer’s more restrained abilities. With balance, I think, the audience takes an eventful journey. Mathys certainly has the engine.
