It’s the end of the football season again which can only mean one thing: what to do while everyone else is watching the Superbowl? This past Sunday, I chose to divert myself with Warm Beer and Cold Women at the Guthrie Lab, a musical production entirely composed of songs by Tom Waits. Waits’ songs are all performed by a revolving cast of local singers, backed up by some talented session musicians.
While each of the songs were very darkly Waitsian in their own
Warm Beer, Cold Women - Photo by George Byron Griffiths
ways, there was something very “Broadway revue” about the overall production. I think that it was perhaps the singers themselves, Katy Hays, Dennis Curly and Robert O. Berdahl, who looked more like Broadway interpretations of Wait’s seedy characters than the real deal. There just seemed something a touch inauthentic about Warm Beer’s “Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards” - like they were just upstanding citizens dressed to look like bums.
The most authentic of the performances came from Hays, who sang the tobacco and whiskey stained tunes to perfection. Her voice had a genuine down and out sound, the low throaty purr of a voice that has seen a few too many cigarettes. Once in awhile she does break out the beautiful pipes with which she is blessed, but it luckily doesn’t make the songs too “pretty,” as I do not believe that Waits’ ballads were meant to be.
Hay’s rendition of "A Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis," was hilarious and obviously a local favorite.
Curly and Berdahl brought strong performances as well, even if not as downtrodden as I may have hoped. While Curly had the most spot on impression of Waits’ unique growl, Berdahl sounded great in his own interpretations as well. He has a more conventionally beautiful voice than Waits does, obviously, but holds his own conveying the primordial blackness of the original lyrics. I loved his "Reeperbahn," which he performed on top of an ancient barrel organ, with bubbles being blown all about.
Warm Beer, Cold Women - Photo by George Byron Griffiths
While the singers were front and center, their backing musicians were the true masters of the show. The six man band was directed by Dan Chouinard, who was amazing on the piano as well as holding his own on the organ and tuba. Mark Stillman truly got into the spirit of things with his accordion as well, looking like he belongs in the World’s Most Dangerous Polka Band. In fact, I wonder if the WMDPB’s haunt, Nye’s, wouldn’t have been a better show-space than the Guthrie’s Dowling Studio. While the Dowling is a great space, Nye’s is the kind of place where you actually see the characters from Waits’ songs drinking away their misery.
The musicians relaxed between songs, while excerpts from an interview with the artist himself were played, opening a tiny window of insight into the man’s undeniable genius. “Popular music is like a party,” Wait’s intones, “It’s more of a thrill to sneak in than to be invited.” This sums up accurately the man’s curious position in music - an insider yet an outsider, a household name yet further away from “pop music” than practically anyone as widely listened to. An enigma to even his staunchest listeners, Waits occupies a space in music that is truly unique.
While some of this uniqueness was missing from the Guthrie’s production of Warm Beer, overall it was still quite good. While I may sound as if I am disparaging the show for lack of authenticity, it is more a personal preference than anything. Sunday’s show was actually very entertaining and skillfully done, it just lacked in some places what I have come to love about Tom Waits music - the dangerousness of it, the unpredictability, the piercing cry of a man truly alone in the wilderness.
Perhaps though, this is what separates the show from the man himself, and the staged version is more of a dedication than an actual attempt to portray the artist. To this end, Warm Beer is largely a success.
See Warm Beer Cold Women at the Guthrie through February 17th
