Karen Oberlin swings gracefully into “I’ll String Along With You” (Harry Warren/Al Dubin) side by side with Sean Harkness and Aaron Weinstein. Her musicians don’t back the beguiling vocalist so much as share the pleasure of sensitive interpretation. Texturally interesting, yet uncluttered accompaniment frames each lyric rather than carrying it while Oberlin sings melodies with the finesse of an acapella performance. It’s as symbiotic and artisanal a collaboration as I’ve seen.
Paul McCartney’s “My Valentine” is refined and intimate. Oberlin sighs into its emotional core using even the intake of breath in service of sentiment. She may be unique in this. Her sssses are long here. The word “love” is puffed out as if the white top of a dandelion floating off on a breeze. “You are Not My First Love” (Bart Howard), a song she describes as love through the looking glass, is ruminative. The terrific solo by Weinstein adds sophisticated shading.
“No One Knows” (Billy Strayhorn) is a wistful stroll hand in hand. Oberlin’s restrained delivery adds substance to the finely wrought lyric. Just as the room grows really still, a jaunty version of “Poor You” (Burton Lane/E.Y. Harburg) raises spirits. Harkness and Weinstein pluck the strings of their instruments creating a jazz age feeling. Both are infectiously smiling. Oberlin’s eyes twinkle. Phrasing dips and turns with impeccable control.
Patter is warm and minimal. This is an artfully chosen show, a mixture of well and lesser known songs reflecting the many forms of love without dousing the audience in rhyming cliché. “The Kind of Man a Woman Needs” (Michael Leonard/Herbert Martin) and “Do You Think This Happens Every Day?” (Fred Hersch/David Hajdu): Do you think this happens every day?/A wink from the gods/what are the odds? are made to seem conversational bringing home their meanings with great skill. When Oberlin’s pitch rises on “sorrow” and “tomorrow” a little frisson passes through the room. Harkness bobs, bends forward, closes his eyes. Man and guitar seem joined, each helping the other express.
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance/ Everybody thinks it’s true (“Train in the Distance”-Paul Simon) Oberlin sings with dusky, vocal back-up by Harkness. We “get” the momentum of the train, metaphor intact. “My One and Only Love” (Guy Wood/ Robert Merlin), her favorite love song of all time, is sumptuous. The word hush becomes a stage whisper; the phrase while you’re in my arms is drawn out, given time to snuggle in. Intoxication with her man is palpable. A guitar solo is as delicate as handmade lace.
“Ella used to end her more intimate shows with this song,” offers Oberlin easing into “Exactly Like You” (Jimmy McHugh/Dorothy Fields) It’s another jazz age number with deftly plucked strings. Weinstein’s left shoulder goes up and down like gentle bellows. He curves in around his violin. With Harkness alongside, the song skips, skibbles, and twirls. Because Oberlin has the helm, what’s often performed as slight, feels, instead, charming.
For my money, only “To Keep My Love Alive” (Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart) seems less comfortable a fit. While Oberlin’s femme fatale is more credible than most, the song trades lightheartedness for a need to convince.
Stringing Along With Love is an alluring show; beautifully calibrated, performed with warmth and polish. Musicianship is superb.
Photo, top, of Karen Oberlin and Sean Harkness by Stephen Sorokoff
Stringing Along With Love
Karen Oberlin-Vocals
Sean Harkness- Guitar
Aaron Weinstein- Violin
The Metropolitan Room
34 West 22nd Street
212-206-0440
February 21 & 28, 2012
