When we think of the great body of work which constitutes
the Great American Songbook, there is a tendency to forget the great composers
who never wrote a Broadway show but whose songs are as much part of our musical
heritage. I’m reminded of this while reading
William Zinsser’s Easy to Remember; The
Great American Songwriters and Their Songs.
Perhaps I’ll have more to say on the book when I’m finished. Yet, I will say that the book, for me at
least, is fascinating, as Zinsser’s passion for the music is evident on every
page, it’s encyclopedic, and finally, he frequently discusses the songs’
construction, both musically and lyrically.
This is my kind of tribute to the music I love.
And, yet, there are omissions. A composer such as Henry Mancini gets but a
passing mention, only because of working with the “vernacular poet” of
lyricism, Johnny Mercer, on the song “Moon River.” But a glaring total omission is the work of
Johnny Mandel, perhaps not a household name, unless you hear one of his songs
which you would swear was written by someone else. His oeuvre is not extensive, but he’s written
a wide range of idiosyncratic songs and teamed up with some interesting
lyricists. He has, most notably, worked
extensively as an arranger for well known singers of his time as well as
playing with some of the big bands of the 40s such as Jimmy Dorsey and Count
Basie.
He too worked with Johnny Mercer the lyricist on perhaps one
of his best known songs, written for a movie, “Emily.” Tony Bennett, Sinatra,
and a host of others have recorded it. The
jazz community has adopted this work as their own, particularly the superb interpretation
by Bill Evans, a version of which can be heard and seen here, Bill Evans in an intimate setting, Helsinki, 1969.
My mother’s favorite song was “The Shadow of Your Smile,”
another film song he composed. Whenever
I visited her at my boyhood home from which I had long moved she’d ask me to
sit at our old piano, by then partly out of tune, and play what I didn’t
realize was a Mandel piece.
And talk about unusual, he composed the “Song from
M*A*S*H (Suicide Is Painless)”, which is also now played in jazz venues.
His work with lyricists Alan and Marilyn Bergman produced
two classic pieces, the mystically evocative “A Waltz from Somewhere” which
reaches back to another era and one of my other favorites, “Where Do You Start?”
about how does one disentangle one’s life from another’s?….”So many habits that
we’ll have to break and yesterdays we’ll have to take apart.”
Yet the song which landed me in the sea of Johnny Mandel
songs, never tying them altogether until I bought the composer’s Songbook, was “You Are There” as sung by
today’s first lady of song, Stacey Kent.
Her rendition of “You Are There" really elevates the composer’s intention: “To be done in a rubato
feeling throughout”
Dave Frishberg, a musician who is sometimes best known for his satirical lyrics, wrote the words to this moving ballad and
his collaboration with Mandel produced a classic, the story of a lover who
is not just absent but is dead. The ethereal quality of Mandel’s music works with the lyrics:
In the evening
When the kettle's
on for tea
An old familiar
feeling's settles over me
And it's your face
I see
And I believe that
you are there
In a garden
When I topped to
touch a rose
And feel the petal
soft and sweet against my nose
I smile and I
suppose
That somehow maybe
you are there
When I'm dreaming
And I find myself
awake without a warning
Then I rub my eyes
and fantasize
And all at once I realize
It's morning
And my fantasy is
fading like a distant star at dawn
My dearest dream is
gone
I often think
there's just one thing to do
Pretend that dream
is true
And tell myself
that you are there
I offer my own piano rendition of this wonderful work. Thank you Johnny Mandel for all your
contributions to the Great American Songbook!
