A Swingin' Christmas - Review

Crazy Coqs, London

****

GaryWilliams

London may have been sweltering under the warmest December since records began, but deep in a Piccadilly basement it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas as Gary Williams whipped up a blizzard of seasonal treats, bringing his Swingin' Christmas show to The Crazy Coqs.

The venue was packed as the mellifluous Williams took his audience on a sleigh ride through the Songbook, in a set that ranged from a beautifully introspective River, through to a spoof on ladyboys (She's Got That Thing). In a routine that was as informative as it was entertaining, Williams gave a potted history of Xmas No 1s. And if you've never done it, I cannot recommend highly enough sitting in the Crazy Coq's Art Deco splendour, Martini in hand, singing along to Benny Hill's Ernie (#1 in 1971 if you were wondering). As act one rounded off with a singalong White Christmas, the gig was truly becoming a most wonderful time.

Accompanied throughout by Clive Dunstall on piano, Williams worked the room effortlessly, which included managing to get the curmudgeonly yours-truly up on my feet for The Twelve Days of Christmas. Williams knows not only his songs and their writers and histories - he also understands their nuance too, though after a few more marvellous Martinis my appreciation of the night's subtleties might have become a little fuzzy.

No matter, for I suspect the Gershwin brothers were probably chuckling in their graves at Williams gently bastardising Our Love Is Here To Stay into a Boxing Day nightmare of Your Mother's Here To Stay. 

If the evening was light-hearted, it's heart was definitely in the right place, as favourites from across the decades pleased the crowd who were just happy to be so wittily entertained on the run in to Christmas.

I’d heard a lot about Williams' cabaret style and he lived up to expectations. He's back next year with a Hollywood inspired set. Book early.

Book Review : Cabaret Secrets by Gary Williams

Cabaret Secrets is a well written handbook for any performer that is contemplating stepping down from the creative safety of a scrupulously scripted and scored show and moving on to  the follow spot, the high stool and maybe that modest band (though more likely a pianist) in accompaniment, as they engage with an audience in this most challenging but intimate of arenas, the cabaret.

Gary Williams evidently knows his craft and he engagingly opens the book with an anecdotal reference to how when performing in front of HRH The Prince of Wales and before that gig commenced, he reflected back upon his journey from playing Scunthorpe clubs, to reaching the carpeted splendour of Buckingham Palace . His recollection of the choice epithets flung at him by that demanding Northern crowd early in his career, when they discovered he had no UB40 numbers amongst his set list, is a welcoming way in to the book. And in that last sentence is the success of this publication. Williams establishes a bond with the reader that makes you want to read of his travels and learn from the experience he imparts. And that skill, as he explains, is precisely what makes for good cabaret.

An accomplished global artist with a respectable string of cruise residencies to his name, Williams for some time played Frank Sinatra in the Rat Pack show and his familiarity with the Great Song Books (not just American) is unquestioned. This book will not teach a performer how to sing nor learn their lyrics. Rather, it sets out principles by which someone, especially a newcomer, can find their way amongst this daunting world. A world in which the audience expect the "fourth wall" to be torn down and where they want a glimpse of the real person behind the performer.

As well as notes on patter and repartee, Williams offers guidance on basic vocal hygiene and voice maintenance (minimal alcohol consumption is a given). He peppers the book with frequent references, not only to his own performances, but also his takes on having sat through other performers' gigs. I found myself disagreeing with some of his opinions. Williams talks of Lorna Luft’s abilty to hit the spots in a song being so impressive that he returned the next day to hear her show again. When I saw Luft, it was more her persona and chat that held me captivated. I actually found her voice to be less than spectacular, but I could have listened to her stories all night. Actually, either way Luft makes for a fine example of an outstanding cabaret artiste.

Spread across 20 chapters, the book makes for a useful guide. The chapter headings are clear and as well as a glossary (vital for a beginner, as starting out you may not only not know what a gobo or a mac are, you maybe also be too embarrassed to ask) there are several detailed critiques of big-names’ cabaret performances, that make for fascinating reading. My one complaint – no index. Whilst print-runs are expensive, if an on-line reprint of Cabaret Secrets can come out soon, fully indexed, then this accessibly written book will have the potential to evolve from being “informative” to becoming “indispensable”.