Give Yourself SOMETHIN' REAL SPECIAL for Christmas

I am a major fan of PS Classics. This should come as no surprise, considering how often I write about their fascinating, varied and welcome choices of material. In order to "celebrate the heritage of Broadway and American song," PS Classics and executive producer Tommy Krasker resurrect and restore the scores of lost shows, record our cultural history, and offer a living archive not just of individual musicals, but of fabulous voices, composers, lyricists and orchestrators in solo albums and songbooks. Where else would Rebecca Luker get to do an album of Jerome Kern or fourteen Broadway stars take on the songs of Georgia Stitt? Where else will you find cast recordings of shows as disparate as Maury Yeston's 2011 Off-Broadway Death Takes a Holiday, the 2012 Encores! version of Merrily We Roll Along, and the adorable and wonderful Sweet Little Devil, a 1924 show with music by George Gershwin that was otherwise lost in time?

That's just the tip of the PS Classics catalog. Krasker has been very clear that he isn't trying to create  a complete collection of anything; he is simply working with whatever he likes best. "Somethin' Real Special: The Songs of Dorothy Fields," the new PS Classics album from Philip Chaffin, covers songs with lyrics by Dorothy Fields, but not necessarily a representative sample, not necessarily the best known, not necessarily the award winners. The songs on "Somethin' Real Special" are instead the ones that spoke to Chaffin and Krasker, the ones they wanted to spend time with.

Philip Chaffin and Dorothy Fields, circa 19??

The result is indeed something special, something Maury Yeston, who wrote the liner notes, describes as "elegance, exuberance and effortlessness." He's talking about both Fields' lyrics and Chaffin's voice, and he hits the target with that comment, I think. There's elegance and wit in the love songs, exuberance and fizzy charm in bouncy tunes from the 1920s, and an effortless flow throughout the album.

Chaffin has previously done three solo albums for PS Classics, including "Where Do I Go From You?," "Warm Spring Night," and "When the Wind Blows South," with songs from Irving Berlin, Gershwin, Jerry Herman, Michael John LaChiusa, Alan Menken, Frank Loesser, Cole Porter and a host of other composers. "Somethin' Real Special" is his first album with a focus like this, limited to one lyricist. That's interesting not only because Fields was so different in her time, as a successful female lyricist whose work spanned decades and styles, but also because she worked with such a varied group of songwriters. Chaffin's collection of songs shows what Fields' work was like with flowery, fizzy Sigmund Romberg as well as Jerome Kern in an airy, romantic mood, jazzy Jimmy McHugh or brash Cy Coleman. Fields navigated all those twists and turns and came up with, well, something really special.

Chaffin's warm, honeyed voice sounds just right on Fields' Oscar winner "The Way You Look Tonight," written with Kern for the Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers' movie Swing Time, but it's paired here with a torchy Harold Arlen song called "Let Me Look at You" that brings out a fresh side of the more familiar movie tune. And the result is exquisite, dramatic, moving.

You will also recognize "I'm in the Mood for Love," a popular McHugh song from 1935. "Mood for Love" is given a lush big-band treatment as it glides into a 1932 McHugh piece called "Don't Blame Me" that is positively bewitching. When Chaffin sings "I'm under your spell," I dare you not to think, "Right back atcha."

McHugh was also responsible for the music of "Diga Diga Doo," a crazy little ditty -- about Samoa, Fields wrote "Talking there is not the mode. They palaver in a code" -- from a revue called Blackbirds of 1928 that bounces to a Roaring 20s/faux-primitive beat that makes me wish I knew how to Charleston, or, you know, dance the Diga Doo, as well as "Then You Went and Changed Your Mind," an adorable, jazz-infused piece from 1933 that kicks along from ukulele to tuba and trombone in the most infectious way, and "Exactly Like You," another sweetie pie from the 30s that Chaffin elevates to something more with sincerity and affection.

There's also a pair of Romberg songs from Up in Central Park, a 1945 Broadway show set in 19th century New York City. These are "Carousel in the Park," a melody that sounds pretty and sweet at first but devolves into something more ominous as Fields' lyrics move the carousel from daytime to night, and "April Snow," as light and delicate as the snowflakes -- and the love affair -- it describes.

Nine different orchestrators -- Matt Aument, John Baxindine, Doug Besterman, Jason Carr, Glen Daum, David Loud, Joseph Thalken, Jonathan Tunick and David Wolfson -- did the arrangements for individual songs, but somehow there's a unity here, flowing smoothly from song to song. I found "I'm in the Mood for Love/Don't Blame Me" and "Alone Too Long" from Daum, Carr's arrangement of "Then You Went and Changed Your Mind" and Baxindine's work on "Let Me Look at You/The Way You Look Tonight" especially affecting.

My conclusions? I don't know enough about Dorothy Fields, but this is a good start. Oh, and Philip Chaffin's ability to interpret a song is amazing, PS Classics is a national treasure, and "Somethin' Real Special" is about as special as it gets.

Everybody Ought to Know SWEET LITTLE DEVIL

I've had a copy of the PS Classics studio cast recording of Sweet Little Devil, a long-lost Gershwin musical comedy from 1924, since last summer. I've been listening to it like crazy ever since. It's been the one cd in my car since I first got it, so I listen to it every time I drive anywhere. About once a month, my friend Jon asks if I'm ever going to write about it. And I say, yes, yes, I totally am, but... Not yet.

Why not? I don't know. I've tried to peer into the murky depths of my psyche to figure out why I don't write about this charming little piece of musical theater history. I think the answer is that I love it too much. I haven't wanted to share. As it happens, I have become a little obsessed with it. For me, it's a perfect slice of Broadway in 1924. That's always been my go-to place and date for time travel, but I was expecting to pop in on Fred and Adele Astaire in Lady, Be Good! in December 1924. Now I have to set up my timetable and get there by May to see Sweet Little Devil first.

My obsession may seem strange for a lighter-than-air confection that sounds kind of like Gershwin but also kind of doesn't, that wraps its story around chorus girls with their eye on the main chance and the dopey swains who are smitten with them. But what's great about Sweet Little Devil is that pretty much everybody has a wicked streak. That's where the "devil" in the title comes in. Chorines Joyce and May are trying to take poor Tom and Fred, engineers just back from Peru with a big paycheck from the New York Central Railroad, for every fur coat and diamond ring they can get, and Joyce's manager, Sam, is the one plotting the worst schemes. Even our ingenue, Virginia, who is Joyce's younger cousin, has been less than honest. After all, she sets the plot in motion by intercepting and responding to Joyce's fan mail, including exchanging love letters with Tom in Joyce's name. Is Tom in love with Joyce, the face he saw in the pictures, or Virginia, the would-be romance writer behind the wonderful letters? You probably already know the answer to that, but it doesn't affect the breezy fun in the show, fueled by the infectious melodies of George Gershwin's score and Buddy DeSylva's delightful (and snarky) lyrics.

Early on, there's the saucy duet "You're Mighty Lucky," where Sam and Joyce boast about how fortunate the other should feel to have a guy or gal this cool. "Lots of nifty dames were after me, babe," sings Sam, including Gloria Swanson, Mary Pickford, and both the Gishes, who think he's delicious. Joyce makes "every fellow prove he's more than a star in movies," which is why she danced with the Prince of Wales but rebuffed Charlie Chaplin. On this restored version, real-life spouses Rebecca Luker and Danny Burstein are absolutely adorable singing this "Lucky" tune. It was my favorite at first listen, and it's still taking top honors for me.

I wasn't as crazy about "Virginia," where our heroine continues to push down the temptation to be bad, or "The Jijibo," the obligatory dance craze number given a bouncy ragtime beat. This one is supposed to serve as both a weight-loss and face-plumping charm. Everybody ought to know the Jijibo! Both songs have grown on me, with Sara Jean Ford's lovely voice infusing "Virginia" with appeal, and the blend of voices building "The Jijibo" into something special. I can't help but wonder what this dance would look like, especially if the dancers are referring to a copy of the choreography pasted in their hats, as the lyrics instruct.

Second couple May and Fred, sung here by Sally Wilfert and Jason Graae, lead "The Jijibo" as well as "Under a One-Man Top," for my money the prettiest love song in the score. Still, "Just Supposing," a pretend-we're-in-love ditty sung by Ford and Philip Chaffin, as Tom, who is Mr. Right even if he isn't that bright about women, is pretty darn cute.

Just enough of the show's book (from Frank Mandel and Lawrence Scwab) is included here to make the plotlines clear, and also to give us amusing line readings, especially from Burstein, Chaffin, Luker and Bethe Austin, whose squeaky Betty Boopy makes Joyce's long-suffering maid stand out.

So why was Sweet Little Devil forgotten? Why did George Gershwin's earliest surviving score fall off the map?

Tommy Krasker, the man behind PS Classics, who also produced the album and wrote the liner notes, has some thoughts about that and also how and why he pulled it out of obscurity for this recording. It's a fascinating read about a fascinating footnote in American musical theater. Now all we need is for someone to take this studio cast, the original Robert Russell Bennett orchestrations created for the touring version of Sweet Little Devil that Krasker uses to such good advantage here, and put the show on stage. Put this show on stage! Now!

And buy the cd while you're at it. Maybe if it is a runaway hit, somebody will get the idea it needs to be staged.

OMG -- Holiday Sale at PS Classics

Are you looking for something quick to grab for a holiday gift? PS Classics, the company that brings you all kinds of great music, Broadway and otherwise, is offering a holiday sale. Till the end of the holiday season, all cds from 2011 and earlier are marked down to just $9.95.

You can choose from cast recordings, like the one from the revival of 110 in the Shade with Audra McDonald, or Assassins with Neil Patrick Harris and Michael Cerveris, or Nine, starring Antonio Banderas. That last one is quite wonderful. Laura Benanti, Jane Krakowski, Chita Rivera? All included. And so much better than the movie version, which you probably didn't see, anyway, because, let's face it, Daniel Day Lewis is no Guido. And Antonio Banderas is.

PS Classics also specializes in new recordings of old shows, not shows revived on Broadway, but ones revived and restored by PS Classics just for the recording. Like Kitty's Kisses and Sweet Bye and Bye. Fabulous stuff.

And there are solo albums from people like Liz Callaway, Rebecca Luker, Kate Baldwin, Jessica Molaskey, Phillip Chaffin, Jason Danieley... You haven't lived till you've heard Danieley and Marin Mazzie take on Harold Arlen tunes.

You'll also want to take a look at what PS Classics calls "songbooks," like The Maury Yeston Songbook, which I think you pretty much have to own if you want to call yourself a Broadway musical fan. It includes songs I recognized, like "Unusual Way" from Nine, which is gorgeous here as sung by Brian d'Arcy James, and "No Moon" from Titanic, hauntingly performed by Howard McGillin, as well as things I didn't know before, like the simple and sweet "My Grandmother's Love Letters," sung by Christine Ebersole.

Other songbook choices include Sondheim, Strouse, Jason Robert Brown, Jonathan Larson, Lane and Harburg, Maltby and Shire, Georgia Stitt and Jule Styne. And more Maury Yeston.

Some must-have items, like the revival of Follies and Sweet Little Devil, a long-lost Gershwin musical, and the cast recording of the new Off-Broadway musical Death Takes a Holiday, are not on sale because they're too new. They're still perfect holiday gifts for anybody on your list who has a hankering for musical theatre. I'll take two of each, please.

Looking for Rainbows: Two "Finians" for St. Patrick's Day

When Encores announced "Finian's Rainbow," a Broadway hit from 1947, as part of its 2009 season, I wasn't really sure what to think. Joy for an exciting new revival? Horror that they'd unearthed that old chestnut? Not really either. More curiosity, I guess.

"Finian's Rainbow" was a bit of a curiosity, even in 1947, mixing an old Irish gent with a stolen crock of gold, the leprechaun he stole it from, a mysterious girl who dances instead of talking and a bunch of poor sharecroppers in "Missitucky" who are looking to better their lives with a better brand of tobacco.

Like many people, I'd never seen a stage production of the show, and my only knowledge of it was the 1968 movie version, directed by a young Francis Ford Coppola. (Let's be honest here. It's a Fred Astaire movie. Of course I've seen it. I mean, duh. It's FRED ASTAIRE. Anyone who knows anything about me knows how I feel about Mr. Astaire.)

My main recollection of the film was Fred being charming and doing his best not to get sucked down by the creepiness of the subplot involving Keenan Wynn in blackface. But that's the thing about "Finian's Rainbow" -- the blackface that looks bizarre and horrific to us now was actually part of its message of racial tolerance. It's the bigoted cornpone senator who gets turned into a black man to show him what the racism he's been spouting feels like. It's still blackface, however. And that was problematic for me, even in 1968.

The weird thing is that I didn't remember much of the score from the Coppola movie, even though he included most of it. I'm used to Hollywood gutting the songs when they put stage musicals on screen, but "Finian's Rainbow" got a different treatment, what Coppola called the "road show" approach, where it played as much like a night out at the theater as possible. In fact, everything but "Necessity" seems to be there.

So how is it possible I had no memory of "Old Devil Moon," "Look to the Rainbow," "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?" or "When I'm Not Near the Girl I Love" as being part of "Finian's Rainbow"?

When I first played the cast recording from the Encores production that moved to Broadway, I kept saying "THAT'S from 'Finian's Rainbow'?" every few minutes. I think the difference is in who's singing these gorgeous songs and the overall style.

The movie has a 60s hippyish sort of feel in some places, especially when Petula Clark gets all folk-pop on "Look to the Rainbow" and when Dorothy Jeakins' costume design pulls in that seriously hideous wedding ensemble. I don't know who thought a veil made of fishnet trailing little daisies was a good idea. It wasn't.

And then there's Tommy Steele. Again, I don't know who thought it was a good idea to cast a cheesy pop, almost Music Hall performer like Steele as the show's sweet little leprechaun, but he is completely at odds with the more down-home, laid-back style of the rest of the film.

In contrast, the Broadway revival went back to 1947 in terms of the look and the sound. So Kate Baldwin's clear, bright soprano hits the perfect mood, as does Cheyenne Jackson's smooth baritone. Together, they make "Old Devil Moon" swoony and sexy and just plain beautiful. Sweeping me off my feet? You bet.

Kudos to Warren Carlyle, who directed and choreographed this new "Finian's," and also to musical director Rob Berman, for sticking with the 40s feel and making it sound so good. Carlyle's decision to cast a black actor as Senator Rawkins' double (avoiding the blackface problem) is also most welcome.

The funny thing is that even "Necessity" and "The Begat," the most old-fashioned songs in the score, sound fresh and new here. Even the "Dance of the Golden Crock," a total snoozefest of easy listening in the movie, is fun and engaging performed as a harmonica instrumental on this fizzy, fabulous cast recording.

It's tough for me to put aside my feelings for Fred Astaire and recognize that someone else fits the role better, but Jim Norton really does make a better Finian. I still love Fred, but Norton's "When the Idle Rich Become the Idle Poor" is more mischievous, more fun and more Irish.

Meanwhile, Christopher Fitzgerald's Og beats Tommy Steele's in so many ways it's not even funny.

When this new "Finian's" closed in January, I was dismayed that I hadn't managed to get to New York to see it in time. The good news is that PS Classics and executive producer Tommy Krasker recorded it for posterity. Krasker has not only brought the score to life, but he's included enough dialogue to make the story work and added a terrific little booklet offering pictures, complete lyrics, a synopsis and notes about the history of the show. PS Classics sweats the details and I couldn't appreciate that more.

So, no, I didn't get to see the revival. But I know what it sounded like, what it looked like and, yes, what it felt like. This cast recording is just that good.

To order the cd -- and you really should order this cd -- you can visit PS Classics. You might also want to take a look at some of their other offerings, including "Nine" done right and lesser-known gems like "Kitty's Kisses" and "Fine and Dandy." Yes, it's true. I love PS Classics. But they are completely deserving of that love.