Lonely House

I've been a bit too busy with work-related projects (albeit very interesting and sometimes profound encounters) the past two weeks that have made me neglect this blog and all of its silliness. Last week I heard Jane Goodall and Sir Bob Geldoff speak, the latter taking a wonderfully profane and provocative stab at American's global philanthropy. On top of that, I was almost going to have the chance to hear Desmond Tutu speak this week but graciously gave up my spot to a board member.

All of this has made me think about abandoning this blog, starting a parallel "serious/real" one or merging them all in the same stew.

After a week and a half where I probably met 400 people, tonight I am cherishing solitude and being in my creaking pre-earthquake home with my cat. I've been listening to Lotte Lenya in heavy rotation today. In theory a "Broadway singer" I equate her to being more a political/folk singer, and remember Dylan speaking of her influence on him. And, remember, in theory, I hate the whole thought of Broadway belters, divas and Judy imitators. Lenya, is none of those. She is just a lonely of Viennese woman I first encountered in 1972. I have vivid memories of her singing the "Bilbao Song" on The Dick Cavett Show that same year and was never able to listen to mainstream pop afterwards. Streisand, that Madonna creature, Celine, etc. Bleh! They are mere vapid, money grubbing capitalist pretenders in the shadow of Lenya.

I am also working on a DVD compilation I'm tentatively calling Lenya Legacy that includes a rare documentary on her life, live performances and people whose style she influence -- from Gisela May to Nina Simone to Betty Carter. (For the record, I despise Teresa Statas' attempts to hold herself up as the worthy successor to Lenya's legancy. Her arch, formal approach missed all that was special about Lenya. I vote for Dagmar Krause, not her.) The best description I've come across of Lenya is that she had a voice that "sounded like that of a child that had seen things it should not have seen". Even after the war, having been abused as a child, working as a teen prostitute, starring in Cabaret, and even working with Burt Reynolds, there was so much quivering innocence in her voice, a broken heart that had been stitched together and was able to shine light in the darkest alleys.

I think my favorite song she sang was "Lonely House". If you've not heard her version, I hope you take time to hit the link. There's something at once hilarious and deeply moving about how she hits those notes to belt out "even STRAY DOGS find a friend". While I consider Nina Simone's take on "Pirate Jenny" to be a definitive song of my youth, I have to say the rendition of "Lonely House" by Betty Carter below comes close to matching it. I need to be giving thoughts to compiling a similar DVD on Betty Carter.