 Eartha Kitt @ Yvette Wintergarden, Chicago, USA What better way to ring in another fucking birthday than to see
Eartha Kitt in action? That's exactly what I did on my recent birthday,
bucking my traditional
sit-home-and-take-notice-of-how-many-people-forget-my-birthday
festivities. I'm not a birthday person, that's for sure. But this year
I was determined to paint the town, and when I found out that the one and
only "Down to" Eartha Kitt would be appearing that night, I was all over
it like ham glaze on Dom DeLuise's face. Eartha was appearing at a tiny
cabaret-style nightclub called Yvette Wintergarden, situated somewhat
awkwardly in the lowest floor of an office building near Union Station,
and the tix were pricey ($40 for seats at the bar; we passed on the $90
dinner package) … clearly this was a sophisticated type of event. Of
course I made a point to show up in jeans, running shoes, and a hooded
sweatshirt, causing several building employees some consternation, but it
was my birthday, and I could have worn my freaking birthday suit if I
wanted! Hell, I could have lubed myself up in ham glaze and dived
straight into Dom DeLuise's face if I wanted; it was my birthday.
I'd seen Eartha once before, a couple years back in a one-woman
show tribute to Billie Holiday, and she was amazing. It's difficult to
encapsulate the enduring appeal of Eartha Kitt, who embodies so many
levels of camp, class, and charisma that it's tough to separate what
you're laughing with, laughing at, or simply enjoying at face value. Her
highly unique voice is instantly recognizable (she was the most hilarious
Catwoman, remember) and her stature as an icon is as strong now as it was
in the 50s. So is the voice. The show at Yvette's was a straight-ahead
cabaret show about which my only complaint is that the sound was not
ideal, the acoustics surrounding the stage swallowing up most of the
sound so that the room itself received a slightly drowned-out version of
what those closer-up were hearing. Still, it was pretty amazing to be in
a tiny room sitting about 30 feet away from Eartha Kitt. She was
accompanied by a trio (Daryl Waters, piano; John Burke, bass; Bob Shank,
drums) and tore through a set of
I've-lived-and-learned-and-lost-and-found-myself personal epics with
maximum charm and much riotous ad-libbing. There were a number of songs
I didn't recognize due to the estimated five thousand languages she
speaks and sings in (I think one may have been in Huttese, looking back
on it), but most of the classics were represented: "I'm Still Here"
opened the set, and other recognizable hits included "Mein Herr" from
"Cabaret," "How Could You Believe Me When I Said That I Loved You (When
You Know I've Been a Liar All My Life)," "I Will Survive" (not as
jaw-droppingly weird nor as lift-'em-up inspirational as you might
think), and of course, "C'est Si Bon." The set closer we a medley of "It
Was a Very Good Year" and "Here's to Life" that sent the crowd into a
spontaneous standing ovation (the straight people were noticeably slower
to respond). In between all this was much debauchery, trademark purring,
and playful humor relating to Eartha's age (72) and still-hot sexiness.
One bit even dragged a nervous 27-year-old waiter on stage to be subject
to a very long flirtation from Miss Kitt, amid much
champagne-cork-popping and general salaciousness. It was quite a time.
The crowd was a blend of old people and gay people, sometimes in
the same seat, and I think I was the only poor straight person there. But
sometimes you have to treat yourself, especially on your birthday, so you
don't notice the years passing quickly as if to mock the stagnation in
which you swim. I want to be like Eartha Kitt and live my life to its
fullest extent! Eh, I'll start tomorrow. Or the day after that. Who
says you have to emulate your idols? I hardly pursued anorexia just
because I'm a huge Tracey Gold fan. Well, at any rate I didn't pursue it
that much.
Review by Chang King |