On a warm Tuesday night, at Atlanta’s beautiful Symphony
Hall, a beloved figure of American music entertained an adoring audience. The
maestro, Tony Bennett, quickly approaching his ninety-second birthday in
August, embodied what is meant by the Mack Gordon lyrics “You Make Me Feel So
Young.” Energized by the sold-out crowd, many who came to pay homage to a
lifetime of over sixty years of epic performance art, Bennett entered the stage
to a standing ovation and to the music of Michel Legrand’s marvelous “Watch
What Happens.” The place was charged. The
symbiotic relationship between the warm and humble crooner and his audience was
palpable. This exchange of energy is the very elixir that keeps the man
vibrant, relevant and endearing. He is loved and adored, and he absorbs this
tremendous outpour with rare humility and grace, which makes us love him even
more.
His voice started with a raspy, slightly gravelly tone and a
somewhat diminished range, but what he now lacks in vocal acuity he more than
makes up with in his profound understanding of how to deliver a lyric. He is a
consummate storyteller who captivates your imagination with his rich
embellishment of its meaning. Take his wonderful rendition of the Gordon
Jenkins classic “This is All I Ask.” The
lyrics now so much more relevant for a man in his nineties then when he first
sang it back in 1963 at the age of forty-three. “As I approach the prime of my
life, I find I have the time of my life, learning to enjoy at my leisure all
the simple pleasures. And so, I happily concede, this is all I ask, this is all
I need.” The audience responded with a
spontaneous round of applause as he sang these words to life.
In a conversation with Marc Meyers on his blog Jazz Wax in
2017, Bennett explained the importance of his relationship with the audience.
"I listen to the audience and feel their enthusiasm. Then I go along with that. I feel their spirit. I'm reacting to what's happening out there, and that's how the show becomes a reality. Once I know the audience is enjoying me, that they love what I'm doing, I'll do something different in response. It's almost as if we're having a conversation in the dark."
Bennett’s vitality was remarkable. Throughout the one-hour
performance he never sat once, only occasionally leaning on the piano. He walked erectly and with confidence,
occasionally circling his bandmates and pointing to them, generously sharing
the spotlight, encouraging the audience to shower his fellow musicians with
applause. The band was made up of guitarist Gray Sargent, pianist Tom Rainier,
bassist Marshall Wood and drummer Harold Jones. Since Bennett admittedly
doesn’t prepare specific endings for the songs he elects to sing, the band must
be capable of responding instantly to his flights of improvisation, which they
did for the most part seamlessly.
Bennett and company ran through the Great American Songbook,
swinging with Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm” done in double time. A master of timing
and dynamics, Bennett switched to the Ellington classic “In My Solitude,” where
he first sang with restrained aplomb. He skillfully built the tension along the
way until the coda, where he surprised many with an explosive ending that he
belted out with affirmation, much to the delight of the crowd.
He ran through the repertoire, with most songs timing in at
the radio-friendly three-minute mark. The songs included “It Amazes Me,”
“Steppin’ Out with My Baby,” “But Beautiful,” “Our Love is Here to Stay,” “My
Foolish Heart,” and “Because of You.”
Bennett proceeded with a short medley that included Hank Williams “Cold,
Cold Heart,” one of his early hits “Rags to Riches” and his classic “Who Can I
Turn To,” which has long been a staple of his repertoire. The music continued
with “Just in Time” and “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and was followed by “The
Good Life” which found the singer shouting the words “Wake Up, kiss the good
life goodbye” in a powerful display of passion and bravado. It was almost as if
he the wise nonagenarian was shaking the audience by the lapels, imploring them
to enjoy the life they have every minute of every day. His fans responded
several times during the evening to give Bennett a standing ovation. The unspoken
question in everyone’s mind was “How can this guy still do what he does at such
a high level?” The answer- It’s all about the love. The love Bennett has for
his craft, the love his audience showers on him because of his honest integrity
and warmth and the love of the music that seems eternal in its message,
especially when delivered by one of the all-time masters of the art of singing.
The program continued with “The Music Never Ends” which was
decidedly appropriate for this tireless performer. Guitarist Sargent moved
centerstage to do a moving duo with Bennett on the Johnny Mandel standard “The
Shadow of Your Smile” from the 1964 movie The
Sandpiper which had the crowd salivating for more. Bennett was warmed by the rapturous response
and so he mined some more of his treasure trove continuing with Stevie Wonder’s
“For Once in My Life” and then giving the audience what they were all waiting
for, his signature song “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” which despite his
diminishing range he pulled off with an amazing display of sheer will and
polish. Sensing his audience was peaking, the master showman continued with
“Who Cares” before finishing for the finale “Fly Me to the Moon.” His voice carrying the seventeen hundred seat
hall even without the aid of a microphone.
Bennett embraced himself in a demonstrative gesture, showing
his deep appreciation for his audience, throwing them hugs and kisses, raising
his hand upward in solidarity, basking in the adulation and was almost hesitant
to finally leave the stage. But as he has once opined, timing is an important part
of entertaining.
"Know when to get off. You can't stay out there too long. You have to be aware when you've done enough. That often happens at the high point of an audience's reaction during the evening. When I hear that moment, I often say to myself 'I can't get a stronger reaction than this.' I usually leave soon after, on that high note."
Mr. Bennett, with all due respect, you can never stay too
long in my book.
Here is one of my favorite Bennett collaborations with the great pianist Bill Evans from 1976. It's just timeless.
