By Marilyn Lester***When singer-pianist Daryl Sherman first came to New York and established herself, she often got the comment “you sound like Blossom Dearie.” In an ironic twist of fate, some years later, Dearie was once told, “you sound like Daryl Sherman.” This was one of the several stories and memories that Sherman told about her late colleague 
and friend in Daryl Sherman & Jay Leonhart: Homage to Blossom Dearie at Birdland Theater. And as if this tribute wasn’t wonderful enough, much of the set was comprised of songs by David Frishberg. This combination of Sherman-Dearie-Leonhart-Frishberg proved an irresistible delight of music and memory.
Dearie was unique—universally acclaimed as a musician’s musician, in a genre all to herself. Her sophisticated patter with piano comping was celebrated throughout a career that began in the 1950s, ending in 2006 when she became ill (Dearie died in her sleep in 2009 at age 84). Both Sherman and Dearie—hence the comparisons—were endowed at birth with a singular, light, almost childlike voice and the ability to swing at the keys. In this homage to Dearie, Sherman focused on a match made in heaven: Dearie’s songwriting association with Dave Frishberg as well as her work with Bob Dorough. Dearie loved quirky songs and these were provided by this duo, especially in the extremely witty and amusing “I’m Hip,” which was a solid part of Dearie’s repertoire. It’s a sly recipe of what it takes to be a hipster, with Sherman’s phrasing digging in and bringing the satire forward with perfect comic timing.
Leonhart is truly a bass counterpart to Sherman. He has a way with a lyric, and knows how to put a song across, especially where satire is required. 
And although he isn’t at a piano, his technique is masterful, owing to melodic playing backed by a command of chord changes while he’s singing. His rendition of John Wallowitch’s comic “Bruce” was priceless, introduced with the explanation that the selection is perfect for today’s socio-political climate. Wallowitch, another songwriter’s songwriter, wrote “Bruce,” a camp classic about a hugely misguided, fashion-impaired drag queen. Among other hilarities, the lyric pairs the name “Bruce” with the no-no of wearing puce. The wryness built into Bob Dorough’s “Figure 8,” written as part of the multiplication table series for “Schoolhouse Rock!” was captured to a “T,” much as a dramatic actor can read the phone book with interpretive skill.
In one of his last songwriting collaborations before his death, Johnny Mercer wrote specifically for Dearie “My New Celebrity Is You.” The tune is a fiesta of name-dropping, from Modigliani and Montovani to Dean Martin and Mia Farrow. Of course, Sherman nailed it, closing out with a clever piano riff of the theme associated with James Bond. 
The synergy between Sherman and Leonhart was captured in another Frishberg classic, “Can’t Take You Nowhere,” with a piano feature that allowed Sherman to demonstrate her considerable chops as a jazz pianist. Their delightful duet on “My Attorney Bernie” was a study in how these two like-minded musicians work together with finesse and an intuitive understanding of each other.
Departing from Frishberg toward the end of the set, Sherman offered a number from the Dearie songbook that’s personal for her in another way: she hails from Rhode Island. And so she delivered the tune probably the most enduring from its source, the 1940s Broadway revue, Inside USA, which celebrated each of the (then) 48 states, “Rhode Island is Famous for You” (Arthur Schwartz, Howard Dietz), which names the most famous products of various states leading up to the punch-line/title. Closer was a two-way street of admiration and joy between Sherman and her audience, a swinging rendition of Duke Ellington’s “Love You Madly.”
A note: while the duo of Sherman and Leonhart were, of course, musically dominant as the stars of the show, drummer David Silliman was providing expert rhythm on each of the numbers, not only keeping the beat, but adding percussive touches that enhanced and enriched each number.
