Yale Cabaret, Julie Wilson, and it's still hot

Tonight - Sunday - is the Faculty Concert here at the International Cabaret Conference, and the running order is set. It should be a pretty terrific evening. Always well-attended, this the one chance we teachers have to see all our colleagues in action, doing what each of them does best.

Before then, though, there is a lot of back-and-forthing from the dorm to the dining room to the theater to the dorm to the theatre (I can't decide how I want to spell it), and it's still paralyzingly hot and humid. Should I drink the water, I wonder, or just pour it in my head? because the end result seems to be the same: I'm thirsty and damp either way. It sure makes glamour tricky.

Last night we were privileged to see Julie Wilson in concert; her performance  was a beautiful illustration of craft and heart and intelligence and courage. In her 80s, she steps into the spotlight, and embodies sexiness without being crude, and agelessness without being artificially "youthified". She is an icon of artistry, but try to tell her that, and it is gently brushed aside with an "oh, no, not really". Her humility is staggering in this world of slightly inflated egos - I mean the whole world, not just show biz. It's real. Her accompanist, Chris Denny, is one of the most supportive and self-effacing players I have ever heard. Their performance was grace. Sheer grace.

Tovah Feldshuh also performed last night. A dynamo of nonstop energy, she (with Alex Rybeck on piano) did a terrific show, which I would write more about, but I have to vocalize and get over to the theater for this morning's class.

More anon.

Photo by Rahav Sejev