Marissa Mulder – Girl Talk – Brava
Marissa Mulder has always been an iconoclastic performer. While others of her generation cleave to American Songbook, the artist instead features contemporary, often rock songwriters who speak to her. Material is frequently unknown to an engaged audience, especially those of a certain age. Mulder’s awareness of lyrics is a signature. She’s authentic. Commentary is smart, well researched, and apt. The avowed leitmotif of Girl Talk is an appreciation of women songwriters. “Music gives me space to laugh, to cry, to rage to feel. These are beautiful, brave, resilient women – these women are me.” Selections reflect the vocalist’s recovery from a bad breakup and sustaining sobriety.
“I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone/I recommend walking around naked in your living room…” she begins, chin up, vocal fanning out. We hear determination, positivity; edge. Piano rolls, bass reverberates. “You Learn” (Alanis Morissette) Tonight is full of message songs. Lyrics are commonly prose-like. Mulder sings across pauses, phrasing for comprehension and emotional hook. Parlando is organic.
“I’ve never been a natural/All I do is try, try, try/I’m still on that trapeze/I’m still trying everything/To keep you looking at me…” (Taylor Swift/Jack Antonoff) These are personal stories. Swift’s very specific “The Last Great American Dynasty” is about Rebekah Harkness’s flamboyant appetite for life and Swift’s purchase of the wealthy widow’s elaborate Rhode Island home. Swift’s quote, “It can be a real pearl clutchin’ moment for society when a woman owns her desires” arrives a coda. Mulder revels in it.
We’re told about Joan Baez’s deep relationship with Bob Dylan when she was “the queen of folk” and he a newcomer. He broke her heart. Years later, she described the experience with “Diamonds and Rust,” telling an interviewer it was the song for which she most wanted to be remembered. Grave as Greek drama, Mulder wrenches up the memory: “You who are so good with words, at keeping things vague…” The song gallops. It’s a searing exorcism and one of this evening’s highlights. Rage is evident, yet performance never goes over the top.
Joni Mitchell’s beautiful, trenchant “Little Green” was meant for the baby she was forced to give up. Hands at her sides, Mulder’s raw lament holds a world of wishes. Pink’s six year old daughter told her she thought she was ugly and looked like a boy. “We don’t change,” her mom replied. “We help other people to change.” “Pretty, pretty please/Don’t you ever feel /You’re less than perfect…” With interjected, spoken encouragement, the singer defiantly declares she is who she is.
“Good Thing He Can’t Read My Mind” (Christine Lavin) emerges respite. The performer adorably delivers a scene-in-one. She has flair for this kind of material, showcasing range. Alas, it’s the only light note in an otherwise fraught compilation. A couple more would be welcome. The program also needs shortening.
Amy Winehouse, who died young of alcohol poisoning, gave in to who she thought she was. A 50s jazz sound backs “Love is a Losing Game.” Bass weaves through with smoky finesse. “Most of the friends I drink with/Have had to stop…” In the same vein, Florence Welch’s “Free” sings, “I’m always running from something/I push it back, but it keeps on coming…”. Her outcome is different. “I hear the music, I feel the beat/And for a moment, when I’m dancing/I am free, I am free…” Hand to heart, Mulder celebrates the lifeline of music. Were there a video, we’d see nascent wings. (Bird, not angel.)
Girl Talk is a wonderful show. Arrangements are gutsy without running roughshod, musicianship just right. Marissa Mulder is in fine voice. She expressively climbs to soprano, then whooshes to earth, feet in the dirt. Songs are met head on. Vocal embellishment is never gratuitous. The artist shares where she is in her life with originality, intelligence, and heart.
Photos by Conor Weiss
Marissa Mulder- Girl Talk
Jon Weber- MD/Piano; John Miller- Bass
Don’t Tell Mama
343 West 46th Street
