Review: Jack Bartholet Breaks New Ground in LADY WITH A SONG at Pangea

Last week I was doing some editing on a review that my colleague Scott Roche had done for Club Cumming. The show was Jack Bartholet's LADY WITH A SONG, and as I was reading Scott's story I thought to myself "damn, I wish I had reviewed this one myself." So enthralled was I by Scott's description of the show that I looked online to see if there was another performance of LADY WITH A SONG coming up and it turned out there was! And it was going to be at one of my favorite clubs, Pangea. Excited to check out the action for myself, I emailed Pangea to request a press seat and, upon confirmation, devised my plan. After all, it's unseemly to take a press seat for no review, and Jack's show had only just been covered by Scott Roche. I would take my camera and snap some pics of Jack in action, and my story on LADY WITH A SONG would be a Photo Flash. Come Friday night, I reviewed a 7 pm show in midtown, threw down for a 25-minute nap, dressed and headed downtown to the simultaneously quaint and groovy Pangea, only to find the place more than half-full with a huge line of people waiting to be seated, including Club Cumming owner, Alan Cumming. Fortunately, there was a swell seat saved for me ringside, a perfect place to get some close-up shots of Jack Bartholet in action (by the way, it's Bar-Tho-Lay).

Twenty minutes into LADY WITH A SONG, I knew it. This article was not destined to be a Photo Flash.

I had to write about this show.

I'm in a club six nights a week. Some nights I see two shows back to back. On weekends I've been known to do four shows in a single day. I've seen a lot of cabaret, all varied, all worthy of attention, all passionately and lovingly created by the artists, all of whom I admire and respect, none of whose work I would diminish in any way. It is with absolute absence of hyperbole that I say this. In this calendar year, two shows have shaken me to my core: Frances Ruffelle Live(s) in New York and Jack Bartholet Lady With A Song. While every show I see is special, these two shows are different and, in a way, they are mates, like two sides of a coin, like a Yin and Yang symbol. Ms. Ruffelle's show is an entire three-act play, possibly a fictionalized story, probably an amalgam based on her life and people whose lives she has observed, and it is bigger than life, its grandiosity drawing in all who wish to be a part of the grandeur. Mr. Bartholet's show is the most reality-based, personal, authentic journey put onto a cabaret stage, only with much theatricality and flair, making it exactly the size of life, only with a lot of undersized people running around. Both shows tell intimate stories, opening doors into new worlds for the audience members, both shows illuminating a path into a greater consciousness, both shows leading one down a rabbit hole, through a looking glass, inside a wardrobe, up a beanstalk, down a path, and when one returns to one's seat, applauding and screaming, one has been changed, forever.

LADY WITH A SONG is a Queer Cabaret, that much cannot be denied. Jack Bartholet being front and center, audiences can count on sequins, gender-bending rhetoric, costumery, a beat face, big notes, high notes, and outrageous stories about sex, life, and the art of living out loud. LADY WITH A SONG is also a human story. Jack Bartholet being at the mic, audiences should prepare for impassioned discussion about matters socio-political, protestations about world affairs, world leaders, toxic masculinity, equality, gun control, and living in the light. LADY WITH A SONG is a personal journey. Jack Bartholet being the creator, audiences will delight in anecdotes about his inspirational grandmother, his father and father-in-law's reactions and behaviors on his wedding day, his manner of dealing with stressful times, and his evolution from effete little boy into flaming gay activist. Mr. Bartholet leaves no door closed, no stone unturned, and no thought unspoken in his quest to give rise to intelligent conversation through the not-at-all subtle arts of performing and of speaking one's truth. His is a most bold and daring step into a spotlight, and it's the kind of step that can change the world, if enough people see LADY WITH A SONG and follow his lead by daring to step into their light and speak their truth, too.

Like Bartholet himself, LADY WITH A SONG is an unapologetic insistence on originality, pushing every envelope that can, reasonably, be pushed in 75 minutes without risking overloading or alienating an audience. Neither the man nor the show become tiresome or difficult to follow: in spite of an abundance of content and commentary, Bartholet never speaks down to or panders to his guests - he simply presents the prize and allows the audience to accept it, follow along, and keep up. With an utter lack of preaching, he cracks wise about being verbally assaulted by a woman who once took umbrage with a femme man singing a Nellie McKay song about feminists, points out the flaws in an otherwise essential learning tool, a Mary Rodgers/Shel Silverstein song from Free To Be You And Me, and spiritedly owns his position as a splashy uber tenor capable of feats of which other tenors longingly dream, in the cool gray of the dawn. Simply put, Jack Bartholet is the possessor of one of the most exceptional instruments to be found, anywhere. One wonders, after over an hour of talking and singing, if Mr. Bartholet has ever actually sung a wrong note. One suspects, no. The voice, the personality, the outlandish originality, the outspoken outrage, all of these are factors in an equation that would explain why Bartholet inspired so diverse, so eclectic, so rowdy a room full of people as the crowd that rendered Pangea into a standing room only cabaret room on a Friday night. Explaining that the evening's show was being filmed so that he could promote it and possibly land on a cruise ship performing LADY WITH A SONG, Bartholet completely missed a truth that was staring him in the face. LADY WITH A SONG should be filmed as a Netflix special, a Showtime event, an HBO documentary. Cruise ship audiences would enjoy LADY WITH A SONG, as anyone should enjoy LADY WITH A SONG, but the widest audience can and should be reached by turning LADY WITH A SONG into a film. No mere cabaret show has been created here. LADY WITH A SONG is equal parts Variety show, stand-up comedy act, Ted Talk, and Queer rights rally, with enough socio-politcal content and swashbuckling as to be compared to a Madonna concert.

It is fair to say that a large part of the success of LADY WITH A SONG belongs to director Julian Fleischer, musical director Yasuhiko Fukuoka, bass player Daniel Ori, percussionist Simon Fishburn and Matilde Bernabei, who not only played guitar/ukelele and sang backups, but also sang one of her own songs to a thrilled Pangea crowd who loved the singer and the song. Without them the evening's entertainment would have been far less musical and far less enjoyable.

But make no mistake, if Jack Bartholet were to leave the sequins, the tutu, the eyeliner, the coconut oil, the doll, the lights, the confetti, the band at home and perform LADY WITH A SONG a cappella on a bare stage with a safety light, it would still be one of the most original, defiant, outraged, captivating, intelligent, thrilling and thought-provoking entertainments to be seen or heard, anywhere.

But as long as there are sequins and eyeliner nearby, you may be sure that they will be a part of anything Jack Bartholet does, because sequins and eyeliner are a time honored tradition passed down from every lady with a song to the next. And, at this moment in time, Jack Bartholet is more than just a lady with a song, he is THE lady with a song.

And it is one effing fabulous song.

LADY WITH A SONG has currently completed all shows booked for 2019 but more are planned in the future.

Follow Jack Bartholet on Twitter @jabartholet and on Instagram @jack.bartholet

For all things Jack Bartholet please visit his Website

Photos by Stephen Mosher

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