Such is the case with Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin, which is another in Felder’s long lineup of one-person shows about famous composers and songwriters. That list includes Gershwin, Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt and Tchaikovsky. And the staging is usually always the same: Felder playing the piano and singing (when appropriate) while narrating a dutiful accounting of the person’s life, musical and otherwise.
Felder is an accomplished pianist and a trained vocalist, so those aspects of the show are always handled with professional skill. As a result, we are gifted with parts of many of Berlin’s songs including his breakthrough hit “Alexander’s Ragtime Band,” and his monumental “White Christmas.” All the songs aren’t represented, since the industrious Berlin penned about 1500 of them, but you get the idea that this Russian immigrant was a pillar of American music.
What you don’t quite get a sense of is what kind of person Irving Berlin really was. As good as Felder is at the piano and singing, his skills at writing (the book is his, as always) and acting are less than stupefying. In about two hours Felder tries to touch on every substantial milestone in Berlin’s life, which is the format he generally employs. But this Wikipedia approach, while comprehensive, never takes the time to slow down and really explore the triumphs, fears and anxieties of such a towering talent.
And even if the words were there, it’s not clear that Felder could convey them, given his rat-a-tat acting style, which is always eager to move on to the next song, the next biographical tidbit. There certainly are aspects of Berlin’s life that would be rich sources of further analysis, such as his long relationship with his wife, the upper-crust Ellin Mackay and his boundless wit (“Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better” and “Puttin’ On the Ritz”).
The fact that this poor Jewish immigrant became an avatar of American patriotism (“God Bless America”) and the creator of two of the most popular tunes relating to a religion that wasn’t his (“White Christmas” and “Easter Parade”) is a testament to his heft as a musical creator, but that depth is never plumbed. He even wrote a heart-wrenching song inspired by the lynching of a black man (“Supper Time”) sung by Ethel Waters, that conveyed the tragedy of race relations at the time in a very personal manner.
But those potentially interesting moments go by in a flash, and the result is a profile of Berlin that is a mile wide and an inch deep. That said, Felder is a talented and determined performer and he creates a tuneful, diverting show. Why quibble when we can just take Mr. Berlin’s advice: “Let’s Face the Music and Dance!”
Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin
Through June 24 at the Cleveland Play House, Playhouse Square, 1407 Euclid Ave., 216-241-6000, clevelandplayhouse.com.
This article appears in Jun 13-19, 2018.
I am so disappointed in Ms. Howey’s miserly and myopic review above, of what is an extremely fine work of theatre, both musically and theatrically. Having attended last Thursday eve, I am offended by the opening paragraph of this review which is so vulgar and bizarre, that I felt it integral to respond. As someone myself interested in transgender issues, I have followed Ms. Howey’s work as a writer, but it might be of interest to the reading public to know that Ms. Howey has her own one-person show that I saw some years ago in town. While I not only salute but am fully behind her one woman play entitled “Exact Change” as an important and necessary story both inspirational and educational, there is a reason that Ms. Howey’s play and her performance are not seen on major stages, and all one would need to do is google scenes from the play, and one can clearly see the important intent, but amateurish and stock execution. While Ms. Howey hits you over the head and runs about pretending, Felder as Berlin (and Bernstein, and Chopin, which I saw in Cleveland, having missed the others.), is so natural and engrossing, that never once did I feel I was watching an actor “act,” but that I was watching an artist tell his own story, that of Berlin – or Chopin, or Bernstein. After each of these I was left with so vivid an experience that I felt as if I had been in the presence of these men, and not in the presence of someone trying to lambaste me with their “important” emotions. I suppose there is a reason why the audience I attended with appeared as engaged and as grateful as they were (as was I) and why the Cleveland Playhouse brings Mr. Felder back again and again,. I, for one, hope they continue. As for Ms. Howey, there must be a reason why Mr. Felder and his art are internationally recognized, and continuously on stage from what I gather from google, and why ms. Howey’s story, a most important one that must be told, is not. Christine Howey would be wise to take a lesson (or several) from this artist that she insults and belittles at every turn, and perhaps her story would get the due the story itself deserves.
Eric H. Akron.