The Devil's Music
The Life and Blues of Bessie Smith

In these tough economic times, with theater companies needing to hold down costs as much as possible, a well-crafted solo show—like the oft-produced The Devil's Music: The Life and Blues of Bessie Smith—will have more appeal to producers than ever. The latest production reunites the three collaborators who created the 2001 Off-Broadway production: Angelo Parro, who wrote the script; Joe Brancato, who conceived and directed the show; and Miche Braden, who stars as Smith and has arranged the songs and contributed some original music.

It's an appealing and admirable theater piece. Parro's 85-minute script succinctly touches upon the key points in the life of the "Empress of the Blues"—deftly dealing with everything from racism to Smith's bisexuality, and striking just the right balance between humor and bathos. Yoshinori Tanokura's set couldn't be better. Pianist Scott Trent, reedman Anthony Nelson, and bassist Jim Hankins kept the music flowing freely and jazzily without referencing sheet music.

One of the few lines in the script that did not ring true for me was when Smith told us that she recorded with Louis Armstrong and Benny Goodman. The real Bessie Smith would have said—with greater pride and accuracy—that she did not record with them; they recorded with her. For Smith was a bigger name than either Armstrong or Goodman when they worked together. It's a small detail, but not insignificant.

The real Smith was more of a diva and projected more authority than the Smith we encounter in this production. (China Clark's solo show about Smith, Bessie Smith Speaks, which I reviewed when it was produced in New York by the New Federal Theatre, suffered from the same fault. Linda Hopkins, who has saluted Smith in both her own hit one-woman Broadway show, Me and Bessie, and in concerts, happens to have more innate authority and presence, which helps.)

Braden is an amiable, ingratiating personality on stage. And she seems totally at home with the blues, as do her wonderful musicians. I could appreciate her work on its own terms. She's engaging. But I wish she could have evoked more of Smith's distinctive, majestic, make-the-audience-wait-for-me way of putting over a number. Ethel Waters once made a recording of "Maybe Not at All," in which she sang the number in her own style, then said she would do it in Bessie Smith's style—and immediately slowed the tempo way down, stretching out the phrasing; she caught a surprising amount of Smith's style. I think evoking more of Smith's authoritative delivery would make this good show stronger.

(Pictured: Miche Braden. Photo by T. Charles Erickson)

Chip Deffaa
Cabaret Scenes
March 22, 2009
www.cabaretscenes.org