I met Tony Bennett. I shook his hand, introduced myself, and told him how much I’ve loved him all these years, how he’s inspired me, how I’m one of his biggest fans. He held my gaze the whole time, smiling, and said, “Thank you. Thank you, sweetheart.”

He called me SWEETHEART!!!  (Swooning, she falls to the floor.)

I met him at a book release party for Will Friedwald, jazz writer for the Wall Street Journal, music scholar, and prolific author. Will’s new book is A Biographical Guide to the Great Jazz and Pop Singers, a book so big that it won’t fit in a bread box. Or, as Will pointed out, “This book is so big that we had to get the book jacket at Lane Bryant.”

I was invited to this intimate party, which was held in the Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City, by my dear friends, Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco, who had been invited by yet another talented singer, Pamela Luss. I had met Pamela, who is married to Will Friedwald, when I interviewed her for Cabaret Exchange (now NiteLife Exchange) oh so many years ago.

When we got to the standing room only party, Pamela greeted us and said, “Tony Bennett is going to be here tonight. He’s supposed to show up around 7:00.” My heart stopped beating for about 15 seconds. Then my mind, in an attempt to get my heart started again, said to me, “Oh, he probably won’t come after all.”

But he did.

This party featured performances by an illustrious line-up of  cabaret and jazz singers, like K.T. Sullivan, Barbara Carroll, Pamela Luss, Barbara Fasano and Eric Comstock, just to name a few. Will, who was acting as MC, said at one point, “People keep asking me, ‘Is that Tony Bennett sitting over there?’ and I keep telling them, ‘Yes, it is.’”  Then Tony stood up and crowd applauded.

For the rest of the night, all I could think about was how I was going to dart across the room and meet him after the show.

Honest to God, Tony Bennett has been my idol for almost 12 years now. I’ve listened to almost every album, read his autobiography (which was co-authored by Will Friedwald. That’s how they met and became friends), watched every music video and TV special, and celebrated him on his birthday. I’ve only seen him perform live once, at the Sonoma Jazz Festival. He was captivating, hip and spot on.

I’ve been so inspired by the evolution of his career, his voice and his style. Starting out as an Italian crooner with a clear, legato voice in the bel canto tradition, he used to sing popular love songs of the day, like “Because of You” and “Blue Velvet.” But he got hooked into  jazz, loosened up and started swinging, backphrasing and developing  his own distinctive voice and style. As he’s gotten older, he’s only gotten better. His voice has more grit, guts, soul… and power!

But he is always in service to the song, not the sound of his voice. He honors the intregrity of the original melody when he improvises and always lets the lyric guide his phrasing, dynamics and mood. He’s hip. He’s hot. He’s a jazz cat!

He’s also a good, kind, generous person. And that shines through everything he does.

On a more personal note, I suspect my deep love for Tony Bennett comes from what he’s taught me; that it’s possible for a singer who started in a more classical, sing-it-as-it’s-written style, then successfully move into the freedom of jazz and personal interpretation. He’s shown me that, yes, your voice can get even better as it gets older! It can become more distinct, honest and revealing while keeping its power and stamina. And you can still perform with grace, energy and style at age 84!

He is one of my musical heros, and I feel so blessed to have shaken his hand, looked into his eyes, and told him how much he’s meant to me. November 8, 2010. A day I’ll never forget.

instead of their normal “last Thursday
of the month” time.

I hope you can come and take part in some pre-Thanksgiving cheer!

What’s New at Savona’s?

My friend Paul Rakov would argue with me (but then, he’s always arguing with me or someone else), but I do believe that one of the best things about Kingston, New York, is Savona’s Trattoria.

And no, I’m not just saying that because I have a gig there every last Thursday of the month. Long before Stephen Savona ever asked me to perform there, Savona’s became my second home here in Kingston. Every time I walk in there, it’s like a scene from Cheers… where everybody knows your name.

The people who work there have become my friends. And the food is consistently good. The pizza is the BEST. And that Malbec wine… yummy.

You can find out for yourself on Thursday, October 28, because that’s when the Boys and I will be swinging those tunes from yesterday and way back when, from 6:30 to 8:30 pm.

Nancy Tierney & The Boys
featuring ME, with Dennis Winge, guitar;
and Jim Curtin, bass
Thursday, October 28, 2010
6:30 to 8:30 pm
at
Savona’s Trattoria

11 Broadway
Kingston, NY
845-339-6800

www.savonas.com

This month, we’ll be featuring a song from local songwriter, Don Sparks!

My original goal in taking on this project was to explore more of the Hudson Valley. But in the end, the real gift of this project was an augmented awareness of how every day does bring new experiences, whether you focus on them or not. And if you intentionally invite new, wonderful experiences into your day, there’s a very good chance they’ll show up.

On Day 29, my new experience was going to the weekly Friday Nite Jam Session at Stephen Crawford’s place in Olivebridge. My bon vivant Mark and I have been meaning to go for weeks and weeks, and we haven’t been able to make it for one reason or another. But not this Friday! We google-mapped the address and headed out to Olivebridge.

Stephen has a great stage set up in his spacious backyard. When we arrived, there was an eclectic mix of musicians already jamming. Mark set up his amp and guitar, grabbed a homemade brew (Stephen and Dona make their own beer) and joined the jam. In a matter of minutes, I was headed back to the car because I was getting devoured by mosquitos. They LOVE me, those obnoxious intruders of lovely summer nights. And when I get bit by one, the bite always swells up to the size of crimson baseball, so I had to take cover.

But I could still hear the music from the car, and it was so wonderful to hear Mark play, something I haven’t had the pleasure of for serveral months now.

We got totally lost on the way home (yet another new experience) mostly due to the fact that we were way out in the boonies and the roads in New York are so poorly marked. What’s with that? Is it really so hard to put up a street sign every once in a while so you know what road you’re on? Anyway, we did eventually make it home.

Saturday was Day 30, and it, too, was full of new experiences. Remember Gabe from Monkey Joe’s? He was part of my new experience on Day 16? Well, on Saturday morning, he and his longtime musical partner were playing at Monkey Joe’s in honor of the roasting company’s 10 year anniversary. They call their duo “The Morning Howlers.” After hearing some of Gabe’s original tunes on Day 16, I didn’t want to miss his performance. Here’s a clip of one of his originals:

Later that same day, my friends Peter Wetzler and Julie Hedrick were having a little open house featuring Julie’s new series of paintings, so Mark and I wandered over around 6:00 pm or so. Their home, which used to be the chapel and rectory of one of Kingston’s many churches (Kingston is a city of churches; I swear they must have more churches per capita than any other city in the world), was a’buzz with people, sipping wine, eating blue cheese and looking at Julie’s vibrant, stunning new paintings featuring the color red.

Peter, Julie’s husband, is a talented composer who mostly writes film scores now. A bit of a crazy kook, Peter  dressed up in a black kilt and red tie for the occassion. Here’s a photo of Peter with Mark Marshall, another talented composer. Doesn’t Peter have lovely legs? Why wouldn’t he show them off?

We’ve been to other gatherings and Peter and Julie’s, and every time, we meet some wonderful people. This evening was no exception. New people, new paintings, new experiences!

On Day 31, yesterday, I rested. A lot. Lazy morning, big bacon-and-eggs breakfast, the Sunday New York Times, a little nap. What was new? Well, around 1:00 or 2:00 pm, Mark and I opened a bottle of Schramsburg Sparkling Wine, and chilled out for the rest of the afternoon, watching an old movie, eating popcorn. Afternoon champagne was a definite first for us, and the perfect end to this 31-day project.

Simple, quiet days can still bring new experiences, and sometimes, they’re the best. Like afternoon movies with champagne. Or watching the squirrels eat the cashews we threw on the deck. Just noticing something you haven’t noticed before or seeing it from a totally new perspective.

It’s been a great 31-day project. So great, I’m starting a NEW one! Stay tuned.

On Day 15 of Experiencing New Things, I was mired in the usual work day, spending most of it at my desk, meeting deadlines. I really thought I’d be without a new experience to report, but then, the skies grew dark, thunder boomed, and torrents of rain fell hard. It had been pretty toasty all day, and the sight of that thick sheet of rain called to me. I ran outside in my shorts and t-shirt, and let the rain just soak me through as I danced to the distant thunder and searched the skies for lightening.

Then, another new experience! The sudden downpour had created rivers of water in the street gutters, graceful, fast and

Me as Wet Rat in from the Rain

thick. So I jumped in! With both feet. And I almost gasped. While the rain was cool and refreshing, the water swirling around my feet was deliciously warm, warmer than bath water. Now, this may come as no surprise to other New Yorkers who are used to rain storms in the heat of summer, but for me, it took me a half-second to “get” it.

The hot streets, having broiled in the summer sun all day, had immediately cooked up the temperature of the rain water the second it hit the ground, and the more that water washed through the steets, the hotter it had become.

I came back into the house, happy and drenched to the bone, and in full appreciation for this 31 Daysof Experiencing New Things project. Because if I hadn’t been on the lookout for a new experience, I would have watched the thunderstorm from my window, then gone back to work. But when I saw that rain, I knew. Another  opportunity to experience something new had been delivered to my door.

On Saturday, Day 16, the act of buying coffee was transformed into yet another delightful, spontaneus, surprising event. On my way back from the Kingston Farmer’s Market, I stopped at Monkey Joe’s, one of Kingston’s famous coffee houses. My bon vivant likes a certain coffee there, so I thought I’d pick up a pound. Besides, it would give me a chance to put up a poster announcing my upcoming gig on July 29 at Savona’s.

The place was fairly empty (everyone at the Farmer’s’ Market, most likely). A good-looking gentleman in a Monkey Joe’s t-shirt was carrying large plastic dispensers of coffee beans from the back of the store to the display in front. I asked him, “Is it okay if I post this in your window,” handing him my poster. He looked at it, then at me, and asked, “Is that you?” pointing to the photo in the poster. A ligitimate question given the fact I was all diva-dolled up in the poster, while at that present moment, I looked like… well, me.

“Yep, that’s me!”

“Oh, yeah, okay, sure” he said. “Do you sing?” And that started a conversation about music. Seems he sings, too. AND writes songs. Lots of them. He even performs them from time to time with a guitar-playing buddy of his. Turns out I was talking to Gabe, who owns Monkey Joe’s. And to make a long story short, he ended up bringing out his guitar from the back room, sat at a table and sang 5-6 of his original songs. At one point, his adorable wife joined in to sing back-up. I was being treated to my very own Saturday morning concert!

And you know what? His songs are good! Great lyrics, — smart, snappy and full of story, and the songs were catchy, melodic, and diverse. Since serveral of his tunes could easily be rearranged as a jazz tune, I may get to cover 1-2 of his tunes at my September gig.

The rest of the day was full of new experiences as well. Before going to a concert — Art of the Duo with Maryanne deProphetis, vocals, and Frank Kimbrough, piano — at the New Music Salon at Beahive in Kingston, I had a glass of Pinot Grigio and a scallop appetizer at a new uptown Kingston restaurant, called Boiston’s. A small place with a good-sized bar and a partially open kitchen (which is always fun, to watch chefs cook) this restaurant has an upscale, classy feel without any attitude. It felt like walking into one of  San Francsico’s newer, trendier restaurants near the Castro or even downtown. I was right at home!

Jackie: singer, spitfire, eater of fried chicken

At the bar, I met a charming, ebullient 11-year old girl named Jackie who was sitting between her parents. She told me the fried chicken she was eating was the best she’d ever had. And I have to admit, it looked really good. Then, she told me she was a singer too, and, in fact she was going to music camp next week. She was adorable, so full joy and energy. I felt entertained and blessed to have met her… and her parents, who obviously had their hands full with such a spit-fire girl!

Yesterday, Day 17, I did something decadant, nourishing and healing. I got up, called the Emerson Resort and booked a massage. I knew about the Emerson because I used to try to sell advertising to them for New York House, and while I’d seen the resort, which is gorgeous, I’d never used their spa… which is also gorgeous. I had a wonderful massage from Jodi (ask for her if you go there! She’s great!), a bit of a steam, and then floated home. Even though it’s pricy there, when you book any service, like a massage or facial, you have full use of the spa facilities, like the steam room, sauna, hot tub, as well as the workout facilities. And the atmosphere is lovely. It’s worth taking a break and taking some time there.

Onward to yet more new experiences!

Here’s a snippet of video from gig day on June 24, plus a sneak into the dressing room of the Rrazz Room featuring Linda Kosut and moi.

Here’s my first video blog, inspired by the fact that I’ve been too damned busy to write an issue of Diva News, or even a blog post for that matter.

Just to catch you up as I enter my 6th month in New York.

I hate it when you’re winding down from a long week with a beer and a conversation with a dear friend and truth sneaks in and smacks you up side the face leaving a sting you can’t ignore. But then, truth’s always been a rude one. No manners, but great dramatic timing.

Since I moved to New York I’ve been busy trying to make a living, pay the rent, and make my way as best I can. And it’s been good, incredibly good at times. A fun job selling advertising. My copywriting biz is doing well. I’ve met a lot of people and I feel there’s a lot to explore here.

No, I haven’t been singing as much as I’d like, but that’s changing. I’m lined up to meet with a few jazz pianists and start rehearsing. I have a guest spot in a friend’s show in New York City, my first time on a New York stage.

So, life is good. And for the most part, I’ve been pretty dammed happy and optimistic here.

“So what, so I’ve got a smile on.
But it’s hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don’t believe me, don’t believe me when I say I’ve got it down.”

But I realize all this busyness and work has allowed me to avoid one of the things that brought me to New York in the first place. The desire to move my life AND my work into the world of music. Not necessarily as a performer, but as a promoter, advocate, marketer and supporter of musicians.

For years and years, it’s been my dream to help musicians succeed and thrive on all levels — financially, emotionally, creatively. But I’ve always gotten mucked up in the “how” of it. HOW can I fulfill this dream? What do I need to do to move closer to it? Can I do it and still make a living?

These unanswered questions and the familiar despair that accompanies them threw me into a funk that only provoked more questions:

Am I any closer to living my heart’s desire than I was when I living in California?

Is all this busyness bringing me any closer to my goal?

What the bleep am I doing with this one life of mine anyway?

“Am I living it right? Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, why, Georgia, why?“

John Mayer was twenty-something when he wrote “Georgia,” the song I’ve been quoting throughout this post. The song that’s been banging around in my head for weeks. But I’m 52 years old and it bugs me that I’m still asking these questions. It scares me. My fear is that I’ll always be living the questions, never the answers.

“Cause I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict-less life.”

But after a long bout of hysterical sobbing and watching old episodes of West Wing, and then attending to the mundane particulars of my life, my thinking shifted.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m not meant to do anything in particular. Maybe, even though I feel this strong pull to be drenched in music and help musicians be successful, maybe it’s just a thought, an idea, not my reason for being. Maybe realizing this dream is completely irrelevant to living a happy, productive, purposeful life.

And what if it’s not only okay but preferable to have a “verdict-less life,” to use John Mayer’s phrase. As trite as it sounds, maybe it’s not the destination (the verdict) but how you travel the path (the process) that makes all the difference.

“Everybody’s just a stranger but that’s the danger in going my own way.
It’s the price I have to pay.

Yesterday was a lazy day. And as I laid back and did next to nothing, I felt this overwhelming happiness. Not for any particular reason. Not because I was fulfilling my destiny or living my dream. Not because I had accomplished something or attained anything. I was simply being. Being happy.

And maybe being happy, regardless of what I’m doing, regardless of my work or location or circumstance, can be the verdict of my life.

with Daniel at Upper Fourth on Oct. 10, 08.

I remember each of those moments vividly. The last note of “It’s Only Love.” The high phrase near the end of “I’ve Just Seen a Face.” The Ab in “Don’t Blame Me.”

AND there were moments last night when I never sang better. Actually, there were whole sets of songs that rocked. “But Beautiful,” “Being Alive” (as a samba, of course), and “Feeling Good.” There was a lot to be proud of.

But those sucky moments are the ones that kick my ass all night long and this morning. What WAS that? What happened there? How in the heck did that note just not work?

And when I have the answers to those questions, when I know what went wrong and WHY, I feel better. Because I know how to correct whatever sucked. But this morning, I don’t have a clue. And THAT bothers me. I mean, I don’t think I could even reproduce what happened if I tried. It just… happened.

This is when a mentor or vocal coach comes in handy. And since I don’t have one right now, I’m left to my own detective work.

I mean, sometimes, sucky singing just happens. I just hate it when it does. Especially when I’ve been working as hard as I have on my craft. But I have to remember that progress is a crooked path. It’s not a straight line to the stratosphere where ever day I get to sing better than the last and every gig is better than the last. It’s up and down, high and low, flop and soar. And these extremes can exist within one three-hour gig!

So, today, I’m taking heart in all that went beautifully last night as I dig deep into my investigation as to what sucked and why. And now, on to the next glorious gig this Saturday.