Last Night, Brian J. Nash put on a show that could have played to a full house at Radio City Music Hall and satisfied every single person present. At midtown’s GREENROOM 42, he held a rapt audience in the palm of his hand for the entire 80 minutes and proved to be a real “showman.” The bottom line is that Mr. Nash “is” music. His body language and connection to the piano are wild to watch and the guy’s got “moves.” He also loves every minute of what he’s doing.
Nash has arranged, MDd and played for so many popular artists that I wouldn’t do justice to a partial listing, but he is also considered to be part “Broadway Baby” having worked with the likes of Jennifer Holliday, Shoshanah Bean, Deborah Cox, Laura Benanti, Audra McDonald among them. He travels the world and chases the music. You can follow his adventures on social media and he is quite committed to his goals and is charming and funny.  This encore engagement of the gamely titled BLUE JEAN BABY GRAND was, quite simply, a knockout, after selling out back in July. With one of the greatest bands I’ve ever seen or heard, this performer tore up the music of Elton John and Billy Joel. It was a musical education, with some great photos and an adoring attitude for his heroes, having played many of their songs over his 19 and ½ years spent in piano bars. His stories of discovery go back to his youth, when his voice changed and he could no longer sing “On My Own” from LES MISÉRABLES (in the original key) and he discovered the song “Daniel.” The show soared and soared and soared and the chemistry between the “boss man” and his musicians was built on love, respect and talent. Crazy talent. The pacing and running order of the song list was diabolical. No exaggeration. One of the reasons Eda and I were able to see it was because in July the video they filmed didn’t  work, so this was a “take two” of sorts and, if tonight was captured, it will be something to behold. Bravo to all and if you see Brian J. Nash advertised to appear anywhere near where you are, RUN! You’ll thank me.

The Band: Elena Bonomo, Drums, Mohan Ritsema, Bass, Will Shishmanian, Guitar, Tom Regouski, Reeds, Andrea Neumann, Trombone, Alphonso Horne, Trumpet

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

BRIAN J. NASH

CARLOS CLEMENZ

ROGER DAWLEY, NICHOLAS YENSON, BRIAN J. NASH

NATALIE DOUGLAS & BRIAN J. NASH

ANDREW LIPPA & FRIENDS

RICHARD JAY-ALEXANDER & BRIAN J. NASH

TOM REGOUSKI & ANDREW LIPPA

EDA SOROKOFF & CARLOS CLEMENZ

CAROLOS CLEMENZ, STEPHEN SOROKOFF, BRIAN J. NASH

I have a problem with Slam Frank. Actually, I have several problems with Slam Frank, the audacious new musical now playing at the Orpheum Theatre. I also think its cast is beyond, beyond, beyond talented, Andrew Fox’s score is fabulous, and there is so much theatrical invention exploding across the stage that I suspect this show is going to develop a cult following and remain with us for a very long time. Therein lies my problem.

Austen Horne, Amelia Louise Barr, and Olivia Bernábe in Slam Frank_Photo by Shawn Salley Photography

I am not particularly a parody person. I understand what parody is trying to accomplish intellectually, but when the subject being used as the vehicle is The Diary of Anne Frank, I cannot entirely separate myself from the story underneath the joke. Anne Frank was a real child. She hid from the Nazis. She was discovered, deported and murdered. There is something about using that particular story as the framework for this satire that I found offensive, even while understanding that offending us is very much part of what Fox and book writer Joel Sinensky intend to do.

They have a great deal they want to offend us about.

Olivia Bernábe as Anita (with ASM Walker Stovall) in Slam Frank_Photo by Shawn Salley Photography

Slam Frank takes Anne Frank and turns her into Anita Franco (Olivia Bernábe), a queer Mexican girl whose diary is written in Spanish. Her family and the people sharing the annex have been reinvented through virtually every contemporary discussion surrounding race, gender, sexuality and identity. The production then throws all of this against the Holocaust while simultaneously parodying the conventions of modern musical theatre. Dear Evan Hansen, Spring Awakening, Fiddler on the Roof, West Side Story, In the Heights and the musical vocabulary associated with Lin-Manuel Miranda all wander through the evening in one form or another.

Alex Lewis at Peter Van Daan in Slam Frank_Photo by Shawn Salley Photography

Here is where Fox does something remarkably clever. You recognize exactly what is being parodied without leaving the theatre singing the musical being parodied. He captures the musical language without simply stealing the song. That is much harder than it sounds, and his score is one of the strongest things about the evening. The music understands the joke even during moments when I wasn’t convinced the book did.

Rocky Paterra, Jaz Zepatas, Olivia Bernábe, Alex Lewis, Austen Horne in Slam Frank_Photo by Shawn Salley Photography

Bernábe is sensational as Anita. She has the voice, timing, energy and complete fearlessness necessary to stand in the center of this insanity and somehow make us follow her. Anita is part Anne Frank, part Maria from West Side Story, part contemporary musical-theatre heroine and part creation entirely unto herself. Bernábe understands all of those layers and commits to every one of them.

She is surrounded by a remarkable company. What continues to boggle my mind is that these actors are non-Equity. There is an astonishing amount of talent on the Orpheum stage, and nobody is treating this outrageous material as an excuse to coast on the joke. They sing it, act it and play the absurdity as if the stakes were completely real.

Rocky Paterra’s Otto is gay. Austen Horne’s Edith has been reinvented as a fiercely sexual Black feminist. Alex Lewis’s Peter is non-binary. Jaz Zepatos’s Mrs. Van Daan has her own sexual and feminist awakening, while John Anker Bow’s Mr. Van Daan represents a magnificently pompous strain of male superiority. Eventually, practically everyone seems to be coming out to everyone else while the Nazis remain, somewhat astonishingly, outside.

Then there is Margot. The fabulously vocal Amelia Louise Barr spends much of the musical almost mute, which makes what eventually happens with her considerably more startling. I don’t want to destroy the surprise because this is one of those shows where telling you everything that happens would rob you of the experience of sitting there thinking, Did they really just do that? Yes. They did. Repeatedly.

That is both the pleasure and the difficulty of Slam Frank. Things happen in this musical that will make people argue about it for days. I certainly did. Some will find it liberating. Some will find it hysterical. Some will find it offensive. Many will probably experience all three reactions before reaching Second Avenue.

Sam Lafrage’s direction understands that there is no point in approaching material like this timidly. The production barrels forward, gleefully puncturing theatrical conventions and contemporary sacred cows. Nobody gets much protection, and the cast commits with the kind of confidence required to keep something this deliberately provocative from collapsing beneath its own conceit.

Where I struggle is with Sinensky’s book. It is frequently very funny and occasionally wickedly perceptive, but it is also highly confusing. There are so many targets being fired upon simultaneously that I sometimes lost track of precisely what was being satirized. Is the joke about identity politics? Contemporary theatre? Performative progressivism? The commercialization of trauma? Our insistence upon filtering history through present-day values? All of them are legitimate targets, and all of them appear here, but occasionally so many ideas arrive at once that the satire becomes harder to decipher rather than sharper.

Then there is Anne Frank herself. I understand why they chose her. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I understand it. You cannot create genuinely dangerous satire by selecting material nobody cares about. Slam Frank wants us uncomfortable. It wants to test where our boundaries are and why certain subjects have been placed beyond the reach of comedy. If Fox and Sinensky had chosen something less sacred, the experiment wouldn’t have the same explosive charge. But understanding the choice doesn’t require me to like it and I did then I didn’t  and then I did when  it was explained to me.

There were moments when I could see exactly what the writers were attacking and still couldn’t get past the fact that Anne Frank was the instrument being used to attack it. That may say as much about my relationship to the material as it does about the musical. But criticism isn’t about pretending that intellectual understanding erases an emotional response. Mine remained complicated and strangely, that may be why I think Slam Frank needs to exist.

We complain that theatre has become too safe, too predictable and too frightened of offending anyone. Then somebody creates something genuinely dangerous and we have to decide whether we meant what we said. Slam Frank is dangerous. It takes enormous risks. Some work brilliantly. Some made me uncomfortable. Some confused me. Some offended me, but I haven’t stopped thinking about it. That matters.

I suspect Slam Frank will become a cult musical precisely because people will leave arguing about what they just saw. I would much rather encounter a flawed, fearless piece of theatre that gives me something to wrestle with than another perfectly polished musical I have forgotten before reaching the subway.

The cast is extraordinary. The score is terrific. The book needs clarity. The premise remains difficult for me to accept, yet, would I tell you to see it? Absolutely.

Slam Frank isn’t asking for our approval. It’s asking us to have the argument.

Slam Frank: Orpheum Theatre, 126 2nd Ave until November 30th but I expect this show to extend.

There are few places better suited to celebrating John Kander and Fred Ebb than Dizzy’s Jazz Club. On Sunday, October 4, New York was misty beyond those magnificent windows, the room was filled with Kander and Ebb melodies, and, making the evening even more special, John Kander himself was sitting at the table directly behind me listening to his music come alive.

John Kander

Hosted and curated by Deborah Grace Winer, Songbook Sundays: Life Is Kander and Ebb brought together three very different vocalists—Karen Ziemba, Matthew Scott and Vanisha Gould—with music director and pianist Jon Weber, Mark McLean on drums, Jay Leonhart on bass and Sam Chess on trombone. The talent was unquestionable, the musicianship superb and the surroundings quintessentially New York.

Karen Ziemba

Yet I left wanting more as I know this songbook inside and out.

Vanisha Gould, Karen Ziemba, Matthew Scott Vanisha Gould

Not more talent. There was plenty of that. What I wanted was more Kander and Ebb.

Karen Ziemba opened with “Where You Are,” immediately reminding us why she has had such a remarkable career. Ziemba doesn’t merely sing a lyric; she understands what is underneath it. That quality served her particularly well throughout the show, whether she was having wicked fun with “Don’t Tell Mama,” finding the aching simplicity of “My Coloring Book,” or delivering “How Lucky Can You Get.” Kander and Ebb frequently wrote characters who perform one emotion while another one is quietly breaking through, and Ziemba knows exactly how to live in that contradiction.

Matthew Scott has a terrific voice coupled with genuine acting chops, something especially evident in “Not Every Day of the Week” and “Love and Love Alone.” When he arrived at “Theme from New York, New York,” he wisely didn’t try to compete with the ghosts surrounding one of the most recognizable songs ever written about this city. Instead, he found his own way into it, allowing us to hear the song rather than an imitation of the singers who made it famous.

Then there was Vanisha Gould, who possesses a fabulous smoky, growling voice that sounds as though it was made for the 1930s. There is something wonderfully lived-in about her sound, a little dangerous around the edges, and it gave “Funny Honey” and “All That Jazz” an entirely different texture. “Maybe This Time” allowed her to move beyond the sass and into the vulnerability underneath, where Kander and Ebb so often do their best work.

The musicians were every bit as important to the performance.

Weber knows how to support a singer without disappearing beneath one, and McLean, Leonhart and Chess gave the music the swing and bite it requires. “Sing Happy” put the band front and center, while

Leonhart—whose career has included playing for an extraordinary roster of great performers—stepped into the spotlight to deliver his own “Razzle Dazzle.” It was an irresistible reminder that sometimes the musicians have a few tricks of their own.

Ziemba and Scott joined forces for “But the World Goes ‘Round,” another quintessential Kander and Ebb song about continuing when life has other plans. “Cabaret,” naturally, also made its appearance, bringing us back to the musical that remains inseparable from the Kander and Ebb name.

Which brings me to the one thing that bothered me about an otherwise beautifully performed performance.

Jon Webber and John Kander

Perhaps having John Kander sitting directly behind me made me even more aware of the sheer size of the catalogue being celebrated. Here was one of the architects of American musical theatre, listening to songs from a collaboration that stretched across decades, and I kept thinking about everything we weren’t hearing.

Vanisha Gould, Karen Ziemba, Matthew Scott

There were three selections from Chicago and three from Cabaret, along with two each from Flora the Red Menace and New York, New York. They are terrific songs, certainly, and nobody is going to object to hearing them sung this well. But Kander and Ebb wrote so much more.

John Kander, Matthew Scott

Where was The Happy Time, Zorba, 70, Girls, 70, The Act, Woman of the Year, The Rink, Steel Pier, Curtains, or The Scottsboro Boys? There is an astonishing amount of material in that catalogue, including songs that deserve to be rediscovered rather than allowed to sit quietly in the shadow of “All That Jazz” and “Cabaret.”

That is particularly what I look for from something called Songbook Sundays. A songbook series has the opportunity not merely to celebrate the songs everybody already knows, but to open the book a little wider. Give us something we have forgotten or haven’t heard in years. Give a younger audience a song they didn’t know existed. Let us hear the journey of the writers, not simply their greatest hits.

Kander and Ebb were never just Chicago and Cabaret. Their partnership was far richer and stranger than that. They could be cynical and sentimental, sophisticated and vulgar, politically savage and heartbreakingly romantic. Again and again they wrote about people performing confidence while quietly falling apart underneath it. Their characters keep dancing, keep singing, keep putting on the makeup and facing the world because, as one of their greatest songs reminds us, the world goes ’round.

Maybe that’s why I wanted more.

What Winer gave us was beautifully sung and beautifully played. Ziemba remains a masterful interpreter, Scott impressed with both voice and dramatic instinct, and Gould made me want to hear much more from that wonderfully smoky voice. Weber and his musicians gave us sophistication, warmth and swing.

Outside those windows was a mist-covered New York, while inside sat John Kander himself listening to his songs. Really, how much more New York can you get? Except, of course, for a few more Kander and Ebb songs.

I enjoyed Life Is Kander and Ebb immensely. My complaint is actually a compliment: with a songbook this extraordinary, I didn’t want the afternoon to end with so many pages still unopened.

With more than 170 museums and hundreds of additional galleries and cultural spaces, New York City has created an extraordinary museum landscape where art, history, science, immigration, design, architecture, and the many identities of the city exist side by side.

There is no single official number that perfectly answers how many museums New York City has. The definition of a museum can include traditional collecting institutions, historic houses, specialized archives, cultural centers, science institutions, botanical collections, and other public spaces. One widely reported count puts New York City at more than 170 museums, while NYC Economic Development Corporation describes the five boroughs as having more than 800 museums and galleries combined. The Museums Council of New York City alone represents 117 New York City organizations. 

That scale begins to explain why museums occupy such an important place in New York life. They are not confined to a single cultural district. They stretch through Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island, reflecting a city built from distinct neighborhoods and generations of people arriving from around the United States and the world.

At the center of this landscape stands The Metropolitan Museum of Art, whose collections encompass more than 5,000 years of art. A visitor can move through ancient Egyptian culture, Greek and Roman art, European painting, Asian art, American decorative arts, fashion, musical instruments, arms and armor, and contemporary exhibitions during the same visit. Its breadth helps explain something fundamental about New York’s museum culture. The city’s greatest institutions are places where civilizations separated by centuries and continents can be encountered within a few rooms of one another. 

A very different account of cultural history unfolds at The Museum of Modern Art. Founded in 1929, MoMA was conceived around new art and eventually became one of the institutions that helped establish modernism as a central part of international cultural life. Its interests extend beyond painting and sculpture into photography, architecture, design, film, media, and contemporary artistic practice. 

Nearby institutions make the experience broader still. Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum combines modern and contemporary art with one of New York’s most recognizable museum buildings. Whitney Museum of American Art concentrates on American art, particularly work from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.

This concentration means that New York does something relatively rare. It allows visitors to study enormous stretches of cultural history while remaining within one city.

A City That Collects the World

New York’s importance is about more than famous paintings.

At American Museum of Natural History, the subject expands from human civilization to the natural world and the universe. Founded in 1869, the institution combines public exhibitions with scientific research and education. Its permanent halls cover subjects including biodiversity, fossils, human origins, mammals, Earth and planetary sciences, and world cultures. 

Then there is The Met Cloisters in northern Manhattan. Dedicated primarily to medieval European art and architecture, it creates an experience distinctly different from the major museums concentrated around Midtown and the Upper East Side.

The story changes again downtown.

At Tenement Museum, preserved tenement buildings and recreated domestic and commercial spaces examine the experiences of immigrants, migrants, refugees, and working families. Rather than presenting New York primarily through monumental works of art, the museum approaches history through everyday lives.

Museum of Chinese in America preserves and presents Chinese American history and culture, connecting a national story to the history and continuing life of Chinatown.

At Museum of Jewish Heritage – A Living Memorial to the Holocaust, Jewish history before, during, and after the Holocaust forms the foundation of another major cultural institution.

And in New York Harbor, the museum at Ellis Island examines immigration on a national scale, in the historic place through which millions of immigrants entered the United States.

These museums help explain why New York’s cultural identity feels so extensive. The city has institutions devoted to great works of art, but it also preserves the histories of people who built communities, worked, traveled, created families and changed the character of individual neighborhoods.

The Museum Can Be Almost Anything

New York also has an unusual talent for turning parts of the city’s everyday infrastructure into cultural history.

In Downtown Brooklyn, New York Transit Museum occupies a decommissioned subway station. Historic subway cars, transportation artifacts and exhibitions about constructing the subway system transform something New Yorkers use every day into an account of engineering, design, labor and urban development.

At Museum of the City of New York, the subject is New York itself. Photography, artifacts, design, multimedia and exhibitions examine the city’s past while considering its changing identity.

The New York Historical approaches New York and American history through art, manuscripts, decorative objects, photographs and archival material.

Across the East River, Brooklyn Museum demonstrates that New York’s museum culture has never belonged exclusively to Manhattan. Its collections stretch from ancient cultures to contemporary art, while its programming has developed a strong relationship with Brooklyn’s changing communities.

That geographic diversity matters. New York City’s Department of Cultural Affairs currently supports more than 1,000 cultural nonprofits, while its Cultural Institutions Group contains 39 organizations operating in city-owned facilities across all five boroughs. The group encompasses museums alongside performing arts centers, historical societies, botanical gardens and zoos. 

Why New York Is So Special

The remarkable quality of New York’s museum culture ultimately comes from variety.

A person interested in ancient Egypt can spend hours at The Met or Brooklyn Museum. Someone fascinated by dinosaurs and planetary science can devote a day to the American Museum of Natural History. A modern-art enthusiast can move among MoMA, the Guggenheim and the Whitney. Someone interested in immigration can visit Ellis Island or the Tenement Museum. A transportation enthusiast can descend into a former subway station in Brooklyn.

The institutions also belong to neighborhoods rather than existing separately from them. Museum Mile runs beside Central Park. The Whitney sits beside the High Line and the Meatpacking District. The Tenement Museum is embedded in the Lower East Side. The Transit Museum occupies an actual piece of Brooklyn’s transportation infrastructure. The Met Cloisters rises within Fort Tryon Park in Upper Manhattan.

As a result, visiting a museum often becomes a way of discovering New York itself.

There is another important distinction. New York has spent generations building public relationships with cultural institutions. The city’s Cultural Institutions Group traces its origins to the nineteenth century, and the contemporary partnership provides significant municipal support to institutions operating in publicly owned facilities. 

Access remains part of that cultural philosophy. The Department of Cultural Affairs maintains information on museums and cultural organizations offering free or suggested admission, and programs such as Culture Pass provide New York City library cardholders access to more than 100 participating cultural institutions. 

The result is a museum culture that serves tourists, scholars, schoolchildren, artists, researchers, families and people who simply decide to walk into a museum on an afternoon.

New York’s museums are special because collectively they tell several stories at once. They preserve civilizations from across the world while documenting the particular history of New York. They contain internationally celebrated masterpieces while preserving subway cars, photographs, domestic objects, immigrant histories and neighborhood memories.

More than 170 museums is an impressive number. Yet the number alone does not capture what makes New York exceptional. The defining quality is the range of human experience contained within those institutions and the way museums remain woven into everyday city life.

In New York, a museum is rarely just somewhere to see objects. It can be a record of a neighborhood, an archive of migration, a center for scientific research, a home for contemporary experimentation, a preserved piece of infrastructure, or a repository containing thousands of years of artistic achievement. Together, these institutions give New York one of the deepest and most varied cultural landscapes of any city in the world.