By Marilyn Lester***Back at the turn of this century, when she was a kid of 72, Marilyn Maye, long-dubbed “Marvelous,” continued to amaze with her unblemished, off-the chart talent in tandem with what then seemed like advancing years. As more years have gone by, and herself better than ever at a youthful 98, the word “marvelous” seems pretty pale by comparison. With tremendous energy, Maye just completed a three-night 
residency at Dizzy’s Club, two sets per evening, continuing to certify herself as a living legend, and proving that the word to describe her awesomeness hasn’t been invented yet.
Musically, we might describer her as “non-binary;” Maye is a doyenne of the cabaret world, but book her into a jazz room and there appears a real swinger, a vocal wonder whose phrasing is impeccable, and her ability to scat invokes the wonder of the masterful Ella Fitzgerald. In cabaret rooms she’s famous for her themed medleys: rainbows, spring, rain, etc.—smartly put together and drawn from her vast repertoire of songs. In all cases she’s witty, warm and welcoming. Falling in love with her is not optional.
For her opening volley at Dizzy’s, Maye came out with all cylinders firing on a glorious cascade of uptempo tunes that flowed seamlessly, from “I Hear Music” (Kern, Hammerstein II) to the Warren and Mercer “baby” pair of “You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby” and “Jeepers Creepers,” to a boffo finale of “Come Rain or Come Shine” (Arlen, Mercer), which included a smokin’ piano feature by music director extraordinaire, Tedd Firth.
When it comes to the standards of The Great American Songbook, they endure because they tell stories. Among the most iconic performers thereof are the great storytellers: Mabel Mercer, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Billie Holiday… and in that pantheon resides Marilyn Maye. Her a capella introduction to “Any Place I Hang My Hat Is Home” (Arlen, Mercer), led to a rising arc of dynamic phrasing and intensity to the concluding statement “I’m going where a welcome mat is/No matter where that is/’Cause any place I hang my hat is home.”
Her interpretation of the heartbreaker from the musical Ballroom, “Fifty Percent” (Goldenberg, the Bergmans) was nonpareil. But the piece de resistance of the evening was Billy Strayhorn’s demanding “Lush Life.” Melodically and harmonically intricate, the story the song tells is likewise complex. During his lifetime, Strayhorn only allowed Lena Horne to sing it. Maye aced it, nailed it and triumphed over it. It was such a definitive version, one can imagine the heavenly Strayhorn bursting with pride. At the very least, anyone wishing to perform “Lush Life” should be required to study the Maye version first.
Strayhorn, Duke Ellington’s musical partner, described the result achieved in Duke’s writing harmonic and melodic 
elements of a composition tailored to his musicians as “the Ellington effect.” That genius is still heard and felt in Ellington tunes. In the hands of Maye, “Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me” and “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” (lyrics to both by Bob Russell) and “Satin Doll” (lyrics by Johnny Mercer) were, to quote Duke’s referencing of Ella Fitzgerald, “beyond category.” Another highlight came with a burner of “Don’t Nobody Bring Me No Bad News” from The Wiz. The song is attributed to Charlie Smalls, but was actually written by Maye pal, Larry Kerchner (who also penned “Home” and “So You Wanted to Meet the Wizard”). “All Too Soon” came the finale, with one of Maye’s signature songs, “Here’s to Life” (Butler, Molinary), capping off an uplifting and joyous evening—a gift of music from an American treasure.
Those who follow Maye will note familiar faces musically supporting her in her working trio of bassist Tom Hubbard, drummer Mark McLean and brilliant pianist-arranger Tedd Firth. More than A-plus-plus musicians, there’s absolute joy in the emotive connection they share. This is a unit of deep affection and respect. What a glorious bond to witness and be the musical recipient of.
