By Marilyn Lester***For those filling the house to capacity at Don’t Tell Mama expecting a traditional cabaret show, what transpired was something quite “other,” and it was not only unexpected but revealed itself as a tour de force performance. 
Performer, vocal-acting coach and music director Ron Ramsay hadn’t been on a cabaret stage since the last century; we soon learned why in the substance of his re-debut, A Life Rewritten: Miracles, Music and Me. It was a knockout. And if ever a song so perfectly set the stage for what was to come, it was the opener, “I Can See Clearly Now” (Johnny Nash). And for many of those in the packed audience, Ramsay’s complete story may have been a revelation. As he began it, moving into “My Manhattan” (Megan McGinnis, Paul Alexander Nolan) the narrative entered the territory of eye-popping disclosure.
Entering the time machine, Ramsay took us back to the 1990s when Chelsea emerged as a very hip, swinging center of the universe of gay life. There was a liaison with the late Blake Champion (which led to a lifelong friendship with mother, 
Marge), who died in a car accident in 1987, and then a long-term relationship lived on the wild side. Life was like a box of chocolates, said Ramsay, moving to the piano for “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk” (Rufus Wainwright). Money no object: the entrepreneurial Ramsay had opened exercise studios. Parties, dancing and a drug-fueled lifestyle became a way of life. It seemed like it would never end, but then came the crash “Will There Really Be a Morning” (Ricky Ian Gordon, set to the Emily Dickinson poem).
Therein began a tale of profoundly failing health with a move uptown and booze—lots of it. Propelled by an instinct for survival, in the new century Ramsay moved home to the Berkshires, and to a path of reclamation of self and sanity. “If I Had a Boat” (Lyle Lovett) and “The Valley” (Jane Siberry). To hear about Ramsay’s health issues is to allow your jaw to drop to the floor. But he had grit and determination plus barrels-full of support from his medical team and community. As the sho
w traveled to its conclusion, Ramsay reflected on his journey: “Laughing Matters” (Dick Gallagher, Mark Waldrop), an especially keen choice since the tune was a number in the Off Broadway musical, When Pigs Fly—a judgement one might have applied to the possibility of Ramsay ever being well again. By the time he arrived at Stephen Sondheim’s “Being Alive,” the depth of meaning was unmistakably coming from a place of profound truth.
Two musical numbers during A Life Rewritten highlighted personal relationships. On his way back to health, Ramsay had the enduring support of Samantha Talora. A strong friendship developed and the two have become singing partners. In duet they performed an evocative “Feels Like Home” (Randy Newman). The other person integral to the show was friend and music director Matt Cusson: pianist, singer, writer, producer and arranger, who gave up the piano from time to time to Ramsay. With a robust career of his own in pop and R&B, he had a spotlight 
moment with “Just the Way You Are” (Billy Joel).
At journey’s end, it was apparent that in the nearly two hours on stage, what Ramsay delivered was a solo show, a dramatic piece of theater with music. It was intense, cathartic, brutally honest and authentic. And in its artistry was never anything but positive, salted with enough humor to maintain an easy rhythm of forward motion even in the most heart-rending parts. Like a true theatrical property, the beautifully curated music numbers helped the narrative advance the story. Ramsay proved he’s ready to move another notch up in his creative life. Should he choose to work on the show and pursue it, A Life Rewritten: Miracles, Music and Me could certainly and successfully find its way onto any number of legit stages beyond Ramsay’s home turf in the Berkshires. Yes, miracles do happen, and it could be that in its inspiration, A Life Rewritten might just spark other miracles in those the show touches.
