Hannah Jane Peterson

Laurie Beechman Theatre, NYC, September 12, 2018

Reviewed by Alix Cohen for Cabaret Scenes

Bring on the next generation! I first came across Hannah Jane Peterson as the first runner-up of the Adela and Larry Elow American Songbook Scholarship Competition. The 17-year-old performer is a senior at New York’s Professional Performing Arts School and already has an agent. One can see why. In an article about that event, I wrote “her determination, impatience, and zeal make me think of Molly Brown (as in The Unsinkable Molly Brown).”

Raised by a single mother (Steffanie) she calls her best friend, Peterson is an appealing combination of taste, talent, looks, graceful self-possession, and teenage innocence. Her debut show which naturally includes personal references, is cleverly framed by a survey in Seventeen Magazine.

“Are you ready?” she calls from offstage. “Yes/Say yes/Life keeps happenin’ every day” but “everybody says don’t.” Peterson opens with a deft mingling of Kander & Ebb’s “Yes” and Stephen Sondheim’s “Everybody Says Don’t.” On the verge of a new chapter in her life, things can be confusing. Fine enunciation seems effortless. Her voice unfurls. “Yes I’ll try/yes I’ll dare/Ye-es I-I’ll fly/ye-es I-I’ll share.”

A zingy rendition of “Right Hand Man” (Wayne and Karey Kirkpatrick) declares “I’m more than just a woman, baby/When the pressure’s comin’, baby/Let me be your right hand man.” “But you’re not a man!” Pianist Jon Weber protests (as did the character’s husband in Something Rotten) “Who gave him lines?!” Peterson quips. She’s plucky, he’s querulous. Interplay is fun.
                                                                                                                                                                  “I was reading my Seventeen Magazine…it’s not easy being a teenage girl,” the actress muses, alluding to her first relationship and breakup. “Survey Question 1. On your first date, he must do what?” (It’s wry multiple choice.) Sara Bareilles’ “When He Sees Me” emerges as a scene-in-one. “I’m not defensive/I’m simply being cautious” she sings, clasping the journal. It’s completely believable.

Songs are well chosen and sequenced to reflect the artist’s age and vision of herself. None are contemporary or cutesy. An old soul, her heroines include Rosemary Clooney,  Ethel Merman, and Judy Garland. Peterson would undoubtedly be under contract at MGM were this an earlier era.

“Question 2: He must A. Drive a fancy car; B. Cook gourmet meals; C. Always carry in the groceries; or D. Smell good. That reminds me of my grandpa and the scent of Old Spice.” A lovely “Mr. Snow” (Richard Rodgers/Oscar Hammerstein) follows, replete with nose crinkling with reference to fish. Peterson’s lilting soprano is sheer ingénue here—young, fresh, excited.

With a nod to the someday arrival of her true love, comes the eclectic “The World Is in My Arms” (Yip Harburg/Burton Lane). Peterson wraps herself in Weber’s cozy piano accompaniment as if it were a shawl. The song is tender, understated, pristine.

Two numbers popularized by Merman and Garland showcase her fondness for classic material. When Weber segues into boogie woogie, she barely moves but for a stage cross wiggle reflecting infectious pleasure. When she performed this in the competition, Peterson hopped up onto the piano, something impossible in the pretty gown she wears tonight. I also miss the scat she used in that presentation.

“When you don’t have something, it creates determination about something else,” she comments after a song about her father’s early departure and subsequent absence. Stephen Schwartz’s “The Wizard and I” is appealingly giddy and anticipatory. At one point, Peterson literally jumps up and down. Exuberance is palpable—suggesting the energy of a race horse at the gate.

Magnifying this further are the tandem “You’re Gonna Hear from Me” (André and Dory Previn) and “On My Way” (Jean Tesori/Brian Crawley). We actually see/hear initial doubt in a subdued preface which then builds to unleashing resolve. This young woman knows precisely where she’s going. “Before another sunrise wakes me/Before another night is gone/I’ll find out where this highway takes me/You know I gotta travel on” she sings with a Gospel feel. Propulsive chords accompany.

Caveats: Peterson’s own song “Crap,” though touching in content, is not sufficiently accomplished for public consumption. There are two junctures when a kewpie doll voice briefly, disconcertingly appears and one that oddly affects a New Yawk accent—all inappropriate.

KT Sullivan, Artistic Director of The Mabel Mercer Foundation, congratulates Peterson and welcomes her into the fold.

A two-part encore consists of John Denver’s “Country Roads” for which Peterson accompanies herself on guitar and much of the audience joins in (she and her mother do, in fact, come from West Virginia where the song is placed), and an almost a cappella “Over the Rainbow” (Harold Arlen/E. Y. “Yip” Harburg) dedicated to her Nana. Light as a spring breeze and equally dreamy, the performance illuminates a sweet girl with a powerful dream:  “Why, oh, why, can’t I?” (she swallows) “If happy little bluebirds fly/Beyond the rainbow/Why, oh, why can’t I?” I for one, think she can.

This is an auspicious first outing of a charming young woman with grit and plans.