At the ripe old age of nine, Jennifer Sheehan learned and performed thirty Cole Porter songs with a local children’s theater group. “We showed St. Louis County what really urbane nine year olds were!” A snippet of one as she might have performed it then is priceless. At thirteen, she attended a “life changing” Andrea Marcovicci cabaret show and in high school, was fortunate to take a Master Class from the visiting icon. Marcovicci generously became a mentor. Sheehan went on to Julliard. There was never any doubt what she would do with her life. Lucky us.

The Metropolitan Room is so packed, sylph-like Sheehan has difficulty finding even a narrow path to the stage. Opening with All the Things You Are (Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein), conceivably addressed to the American Songbook itself, she sighs into long, pure phrases fully embodying the wonder expressed by the lyrics. It’s as if a fresh breeze just sailed in an open window.

Calling herself “a traitor to my generation,” Sheehan defines the show as a personal journey through American Songbook standards known, less known and candidates for the ranks. A great honky-tonk, vaudeville arrangement of Sophie Tucker’s Some of These Days (Shelton Brooks) originally recorded in 1911 on a wax cylinder, is ebullient. The song is described as “an indication of how America’s melting pot wrote its first pages.” Sheehan’s voice lets loose with an authority that belies her years. Any performer who can keep the word “girlie” from sounding like pastiche is artful in my book. “Hit it boys!” she coos. Her dipped shimmy and provocative delivery are captivating.

Choices by Cole Porter and George and Ira Gershwin reveal a slight gravel in Sheehan’s trill creating an appealing frisson. This is especially apparent in songs of deep feeling. We’re delighted for this charming young woman when she’s musically in love or in thrall. She’s ingenuous and credible. Her stylish Porter rumba is replete with effective pauses (for Astaire turns,) and trails off in a few bars of elegant, casual scat. The Gershwin number begins with a silky, meditative accapella verse.“…there were chills up my spine/And some thrills I can’t define…” she continues—eyes closed, head back, nostrils flaring.

Like her mentor, Sheehan bridges material with personal and anecdotal history and humor. The evening is extremely well written and directed. It has the strong skeleton and specific “voice” missing in many current cabaret offerings, not only ringing true, but true to this artiste. (The order in which I describe these songs is not the more flowing sequence in which they’re presented).

During versions of the tongue-in-cheek, Do You Miss Me (Diane Bulgarelli/Bruce Roberts), also performed by Marcovicci, and the too-rarely- presented If You Hadn’t But You Did (Jule Styne/Betty Comden/Adolph Green), a comedienne emerges. The first, a mischievous tale of comeuppance, exhibits flat out showmanship evoking an era of supper rooms-white jackets, cocktails, and smoke. It’s easy to imagine a line of chorus boys behind Sheehan. This lady can move! The second, offered with enunciation worthy of Sondheim, is enacted with the wide-eyed, dead-pan bravado of Judy Holliday.

A rendition of I’ll Be Seeing You (Sammy Fain/Irvin Kahal) is sung with pristine simplicity and evocative tenderness. Other emotionally resonant highlights include two lovely, lesser known songs by Stephen Sondheim: Take Me to the World from Evening Primrose and Take the Moment from Do I Hear a Waltz? “I couldn’t find a soprano version of Officer Krupke,” she explains. And Two for the Road (Henry Mancini/ Leslie Bricusse) during which Sheehan’s voice assumes surprising maturity. “Where in today’s music would you find such commitment? The closest I can think of is Beyonce’s If you like it you should’ve put a ring on it, she says with a smile. Too true.

Bringing the Songbook into the present, Sheehan suggests inclusion of two by the talented Susan Werner. I Can’t Be New: “I’ll be anything for you, baby/But I can’t be new,” fits comfortably and qualitatively into the oeuvre. Sung wistfully, without self-pity, the performer’s clear focus and lack of embellishment defines the lyric’s universal truth. And Movie of My Life (extremely clever, but not standard worthy), in which Sheehan appears to be channeling Imogene Coca (with a voice), showcasing significant theater skills.

We close with the tandem, Some Enchanted Evening (Richard Rodgers/Oscar Hammerstein) and Fable, by Rodger’s grandson Adam Guettel. Sheehan’s performance of Fable employs her classical training. The song is often dissonant and loosely shaped. Her full, dark soprano fills the room taking wing, wonderfully interpreting a choice I find unfortunate. While connected by blood and thus a neat tie-up, Guettel’s work, in my opinion, stands rather purposefully someplace between musical theater and opera, its own genre. American Songbook it is not. Love Is Here to Stay (George and Ira Gershwin), Sheehan’s encore, is apt epilogue to a meticulously wrought evening.

Jennifer Sheehan has remarkable presence, flair, range, and talent. Engaging and genuine, she connects with her audience (another art too many singers don’t understand). There are distinctive dramatic gestures I envision as future promotional visuals for Carnegie Hall or The London Palladium, though it’s possible Sheehan will grace the musical theater stage before then. With the gift of contagious joy, this accomplished young singer sends us out into the night with warm, satisfied smiles.

James Followell’s musical arrangements are lush and deceptively intricate. They often successfully partner with vocals, rather than taking a back seat. His instinct for the spirit of each number is, for this musician, a place to start, not a dictation of form. (Listen for sybaritic flourishes). Followell writes with symbiotic understanding of Sheehan’s voice. His playing is impeccable.

Jered Egan is dependably splendid on bass.

Lighting and sound designer, Jean-Pierre Perreaux, deserves particular commendation for a seamless, sensitively presented show.

To purchase the studio CD: Jennifer Sheehan—You Made Me Love You: Celebrating 100 Years of the Great American Songbook.

You can also purchase at her website, www.jennifersheehan.com

Photo credits:
Top photo, Laura Rose
Bottom photo, Scott Singer

Jennifer Sheehan
You Made Me Love You
Celebrating 100 Years of the American Songbook
Jennifer Sheehan, Vocals
James Followell, Musical Director; Pianist
Jered Egan, Bass
The Metropolitan Room
34 West 22 St.
212-206-0440
www.metropolitanroom.com
Friday, March 25 at 7 p.m.; Saturday March 26 at 9:30 p.m.