I propose a “Smart Set.” A group of people who appreciate a finely crafted melody and an intelligent and witty lyric, as well as a good cocktail. We’ll get together whenever Banu Gibson is performing with her pianist and musical director David Boeddinghaus. They, more than most, appreciate a finely crafted melody and an intelligent and witty lyric.
Banu is what they call a class act. She has a generous personality, a fine and malleable voice and really good taste. And she knows how to put on a show. Boeddinghaus has been accompanying her for 17 years and they have an unrivalled musical relationship. I got my “Smart Set” idea recently after receiving a postcard trumpeting a performance at Le Chat Noir by the duo. It seemed the perfect venue for them; an intimate and sophisticated setting with great acoustics enabling one to delight not only in her beautifully clear and refined voice, but to also hear and feel the melodies and lyrics of the great songwriters of the golden age of American popular music. I went and it was everything I expected and more.
When the lights went down in the theater the opening track from Banu’s most recent recording My Romance (picked by this magazine as one of the Top Ten recordings of 1999) burst forth from the sound system. When the recorded version of her voice reached the end of the verse (“I’m clutching at straws just because I may meet him yet”) a spot light hit the stage and the flesh and blood Banu picked up the chorus with the real life David Boeddinghaus hitting the piano in stride. It was a winning beginning to a winning evening. Over the next 17 selections which she would perform, Gibson was able to give her audience not only lovely and spirited renderings of pop and jazz gems from the ’20s and ’30s, but to also give a lively overview of her career.
After offering the Dorothy Fields/Jerome Kern collaboration “The Way You Look Tonight,” a request that she received via e‑mail (“I usually get them on bar napkins,” she explained), Gibson bemoaned how often over time tunes get bastardized, and veer off from their initial intent. With that she and Boeddinghaus delivered “Pennies From Heaven” utilizing the original chord changes, a more moody version as recorded by the nonpareil crooner Bing Crosby rather than the rousing, happy go lucky sentiment that many associate with the tune.
“I moved to New York City from Hollywood, Florida” began her biographical sketch “and started to work for ‘Your Father’s Mustache,’ a chain of nightclubs that was putting together a touring band.” Among the group’s regular jobs was as the warm up band every Sunday evening for the Ed Sullivan Show. “We would run through the audience up to the stage, play for exactly 12-and-a-half minutes and then take off again through the aisles. One night I literally ran into Lucille Ball and nearly flattened her.” She waited a beat before delivering the blow off, “What a way to make an impression on a star.”
She continued that while touring she would search out old sheet music during various stops on the road and then revealed a piece of vintage music, pointing out that the bulk of the sheets from the 1920s and ’30s had chord diagrams for ukulele accompaniment. Gibson then reached for a beautiful Bacon banjo ukulele and proceeded to strum and sing the fitting “Nobody Knows What A Red Head Mama Can Do.”
Next, Gibson performed her favorite 1920s song recorded by Helen Kane, “Was There Anything Wrong In That?” This was interesting because although I had heard that Banu was an amazing, I guess you would say, “mimic” of the Kane style, I had never seen her perform the material live. Helen Kane, you might know, is remembered as “The Original Boop Boop a Doo Girl” and a main inspiration of the enduring cartoon character Betty Boop. So when Banu dug into the funny lyric in the coquettish Boop style it was quite startling—it just didn’t seem possible that the sound was coming from this woman, it seemed as though it was some kind of lip synchronization trick. I found this performance so compelling that the following day I bought a Helen Kane collection released by Louisiana Red Hot Records and it’s great fun.
A brooding performance of “42nd Street” led to a story about the only time she auditioned for a Broadway show while in New York. “It was a stage version of ‘Some Like It Hot,’“ Gibson said “and I thought I would audition for a part as one of the girls in the band, problem was I didn’t play an instrument. So I quickly taught myself a tune on banjo. For my audition I decided to camouflage my newly acquired banjo skills with some singing and tap dancing.” She then recreated the moment (complete with a disembodied voice of a director mangling her name), strumming, singing and tapping her way through “Shuffle Off to Buffalo, “ seated all the while and looking like a giddy youngster, especially when she went into a stop-time tap solo.
Before leaving the New York portion of her career, Gibson made an observation about the rampant drug culture in New York City at the time. She confessed, “my drug of choice was a Harry Warren song” before digging in to “You’re Getting To Be A Habit With Me” featuring the beau-as-narcotic lyric by Al Dubin (“Let me stay in your arms, I’m addicted to your charms, you’re getting to be a habit with me”). She followed with two more Warren/Dubin collaborations, the delightful “With Plenty of Money and You” ( “It’s the root of all evil, of strife and upheaval, but I’m certain, honey, that life could be sunny, with plenty of money and you.”) and “About a Quarter to Nine.”
After her years in New York, Gibson moves to California to be part of a show at Disneyland in Anaheim, California called the “Spirit of ’27.” “The show consisted of five musicians and two singer/dancers of which I was one. It was like being in vaudeville, half an hour on, half an hour off,” she said, and then offered a humorous mathematical formula regarding the costume changes she made over the six years she spent on the show, ending up with a number well over 8,000(!). She then offered a long and funny and self-deprecating story about performing versions of the show in Nevada resort towns as a fitting lead-in to a tune from the 1952 film The Las Vegas Story starring Jane Russell. “This song is a story about a king, King Rebop, and a dream he had,” she said and then proceeded to display amazing vocal agility on the frenetic “Monkey Song,” leaving both herself and the audience breathless.
After an on-stage costume change and a bluesy reading of “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man” (sans microphone) she explained how in 1973 she made New Orleans her base of operations, traveling seasonally to work the Disney job. “In 1981 I formed my own band here and David moved to New Orleans in 1983 to become my pianist and subsequently the musical director for the band. We were inspired by the Boswell Sisters, who grew up on Camp Street, and paid tribute to them on the CD Love Is Good For Anything That Ails You. On this next number I will be singing Connee’s part, and Vet’s part and Martha’s part.” Suddenly the sound of Banu’s full band filled the room tearing in to “Me Minus You” and then Banu was singing in the Boswell’s “close harmony” style on stage with two recorded versions of herself. During instrumental breaks she pointed to invisible soloists.
Keeping with the multi-media moment she cranked up a gramophone, the lone stage prop, and began to play an old 78 rpm record of Connee Boswell singing Hoagy Carmichael’s “The Nearness of You.” Soon she sang along with the record and then as the old (but certainly still vital) recording trailed off, it was Banu’s voice alone and in full flower delivering the lovely Ned Washington lyric: “I need no soft lights to enchant me if you’ll only grant me the right to hold you ever so tight, and to feel in the night the nearness of you.”
The evening ended where it began, with Banu’s latest recording My Romance. She closed out by featuring four selections from that wonderful recording: “Sweet & Slow,” “Blues In My Heart,” “Taking A Chance On Love,” and finally the title track.
On the whole, Banu’s Le Chat Noir show amounted to one of the savviest entertainments I have ever seen, and in a setting worthy of Gibson’s and Boeddinhaus’ considerable talents. But I was troubled that on the front of the promotional card I spoke of earlier were the words “Only New Orleans Appearance.” If that statement had proved true it would be one of the more heinous crimes perpetrated against those in New Orleans who revel in a smart, witty song sung well and accompanied brilliantly (and that’s the only way to describe Dave Boeddinghaus’ contributions), as well as the death knell of my whole “Smart Set” idea.
Thankfully, that’s not the case, in fact Le Chat Noir booked her again on successive nights at the end of last month. What’s more, she and Boeddinghaus have been appearing a couple of nights a week at the new and ultra‑toney Ritz‑Carleton Hotel on Canal Street. On a recent Tuesday, those enjoying an early evening cocktail were treated to the duo in performance of such gems as “I’ve Got a Crush on You,” “Small Fry,” “I Just Couldn’t Take It Baby,” and even Rosemarie’s “Take A Picture of the Moon.” That’s good news, and let’s hope it continues. For now I call the first meeting of the “Smart Set” for election day, November 7 (and please vote), at the Lobby Lounge of the Ritz-Carleton from 6 to 9 pm, and every Tuesday and Friday continuing through November, because that’s Banu’s schedule there for the month.
To join the “Smart Set,” damn it as inherently elitist or make any other comment, drop a line to [email protected]. And another thing, “The Sugarshack” is not a real nightclub, it’s my home and the daily ukulele concerts amount to private performances for Buster, Dash and Ike. Don’t look in the phone book.
