On Thursday February 6, Marissa Mulder celebrated her 40th birthday by performing. Song choices (and stories) were unabashedly personal. The artist put herself before us vulnerable and resilient, homespun and polished, coltish and wise, grounded and spiritual; always authentic. She shimmered.
Mulder has always been her own person onstage. When most of the community presented American Songbook, she was ahead of the curve confidently choosing contemporary material. She admits to a penchant for sadder, darker lyrics – even tonight. Phrasing is iconoclastic, yet meaning paramount.
Coquettish songs are effervescent.
“I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone/I certainly do/I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time/Feel free…”she earnestly sang (“You Learn” Alanis Morisette). Many of Mulder’s songs express the need and desire to risk. “You’re Gonna Hear From Me” (Dory and Andre Previn from Inside Daisy Clover) was emphatic, but not loud. The vocalist is past the point of having to prove herself. On a journey of self discovery. “I’m fortune’s child…”
Two by Joni Mitchell follow. “Won’t you stay as we put on the day…” entreated. Mulder leaned out to us, her eyebrows in a point. She’s a communicator, often zeroing in on individual faces. Beneath rustling purple pleats, the left leg kept time. Piano (Nate Buccieri) undulated; voice climbed, circled and returned with frisson in its wake.
“Sara Bareilles wrote this (from the musical Waitress) for a woman in an abusive relationship. The chasm between who we are and who we thought we might be is always something we’re negotiating
…She’s imperfect, but she tries/She is good, but she lies…” Some was spoken, some sung creating a dramatic turn. John Miller’s bowed bass added to pathos. “Old Fashioned Hat” (Anais Mitchell) arrived as a duet with Buccieri whose sandy vocal added cool to the bluesy number.
Mulder dedicated Barielles’ “Chasing the Sun” to the recently deceased Danny Bacher, a genuinely buoyant spirit. “We can always be chasing the sun/So fill up your lungs and just run…” It’s good advice. Buccieri was on backup. “Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail,” she quoted Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Starting with the lightest piano chords, Ed Kleban’s “Better,” on the list of songs Sondheim wished he’d written, chose “thin” over “fat,” “in” over “out” (as better) to strains of infectiously rhythmic bass. Mulder embraced playfulness. The familiar “Good Thing He Can’t Read My Mind” (Christine Lavin) emerged a scene in one. We believed every droll word. The artist was endearing.
Touching stories of her beloved grandparents, lead into two perfectly selected songs. “I’ll see you when you get home,” her gran said, aware she was dying. (This could be an O. Henry story.) “Marjorie” (Taylor Swift/Aaron Dessner) is a wrenching elegy. The club stilled.
Verses of “End of the World” (Matt Alber), one of her signature songs, drifted down in sighs like leaves. Another that speaks to and of her, “Hand in my Pocket” (Alanis Morisette) took us aria da capo back to balance: “I’m broke, but I’m happy/I’m poor, but I’m kind…I’m sane, but I’m overwhelmed…”
This is a thoughtful, honest show. Marissa Mulder seems a gentle soul (not a wuss) on the lookout for miracles. She creates her own vista and moves forward. Take a few songs down a notch, Marissa, and Happy Birthday. You deserve a party.
Photos by Alix Cohen
Opening: Nate Buccieri and Marissa Mulder
Marissa Mulder: This is 40!
Nate Buccieri – MD/Piano; John Miller – Bass
The Green Room 42
570 10th Ave in the Novotel
