I
have now seen Barbra Streisand perform live four times over the past twenty-two
years. I sometimes joke that I always go to all of her farewell tours, but
given her age now (74), I cannot be certain that she won’t give up touring at
some point. She still seems to enjoy the engagement with the audience, and she
always seems to find new ways to interpret and present and contextualize the
songs she performs. The audiences show their appreciation loudly and perhaps
too often, so she has to be aware of how much beloved she remains. However, I
fear that at some point she might decide to retire from public singing and I
won’t have seen her one last time before that occurs. So when the chance to
purchase tickets for another tour arose, I logged on and purchased as quickly
as possible. I can’t say I got the best seats in the house, but given that the
top ticket prices could almost rival a month’s rent, I got the best I could
afford.
Tuesday
night’s performance at the Staples Center was easily the most emotional of her
concerts that I have seen (including her triumphant return to touring back in
1994 at what was then known as the Arrowhead Pond). Lots of people will remark
on how her voice has lost some of its strength, but I cannot imagine any other
74-year-olds who have the ability to master notes the way that she can. And her
selection of material to cover during the evening was unparalleled. She knows
her fans are deeply familiar with her catalog, and she continually surprises us
with choices that amaze us and resonate with us.
The
first half began with the song that everyone now expects her to sing at some
point in the show: “The Way We Were.” Not many performers would begin with a
song so closely identified with them, but she walked out to raucous cheers and
quickly dispensed with it as if to suggest that there were other,
just-as-exciting songs to come. And she then followed up with a song from A
Star Is Born. No, not “Evergreen”—that came later in a lovely duet with
Babyface (Kenny Edmonds). Instead, she sang “Everything,” the song in the film
that shows her character’s desire to be a success at every aspect of life. It’s
a stunning choice, one I’ve never heard her perform outside of the film, and it
was a magnificent choice to set off a series of unexpected “deep cuts.” It also
gave her the chance for some self-deprecating humor, revealing that she knows
the reputation she has for being a perfectionist. (It didn’t help that someone
left out the straw from the cup of tea she always has on stage. That was
quickly remedied during intermission. Or else...)
She
could easily spend 2½ hours just singing her greatest hits. That would fill
more than just one night, and everyone would feel satisfied. However, instead,
she mines the archives of the thousands of songs she has recorded and picks
ones that fit within the narrative that she constructs for each show. For example,
rather than sing “All Is Fair in Love” from the album that had to be retitled Barbra
Streisand featuring The Way We Were so as not to confuse the
record-buying public, she instead did a fresh take on “Being at War with Each
Other” accompanied by images of the violence and protests that have become such
a part of our culture. It was a daring restaging of a song about a couple
having relationship trouble, and it was a powerful moment.
This
tour is ostensibly a tribute to Streisand’s albums that have reached Number One
on the charts. She’s done this feat in each of the past six decades, an
unparalleled achievement and one not likely to be surpassed any time soon. It’s
also a bit of a promotional tour for her upcoming release, Encore, even though she
only did two numbers from that album in the second act. The emphasis is truly
upon the musical journey on which she has taken us since her start in the early
1960s. So the first act includes such favorites as “Stoney End” and “Woman in
Love” and “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers,” which she sings just as beautifully as
a solo. She also shared many stories throughout the evening about her career,
including one about how a disc jockey in Kentucky spliced together hers and
Neil Diamond’s individual performances of the song and made it into a hit record.
She also joked about her constant struggles with the record company regarding
the cover art for her albums, including one where the bump in that famous nose
was airbrushed out of the image and another where she wanted a shot of her
facing away from the camera and looking out to the horizon (People).
She lost the first battle but won the second. Such are the small gems of her
long career that you get to discover when you attend a concert.
For
me, the emotional highlight of the first act was her rendition of “Being Alive,”
the first of three songs by Stephen Sondheim she would perform. Sung by a man
in the theatrical productions of Company, this song gets completely
reconceptualized by having it performed by a mature female singer with a history
of romances both successful and failed rather than a younger man struggling
with his inability to commit to a relationship with one person. It’s a show
piece for her, one which she frequently uses in her concerts to demonstrate
that she truly is, as she described herself once in the 1960s, “an actress who
sings.”
The
first act ended with one of her more personal songs, “Papa, Can You Hear Me?”
from the movie Yentl. Given her challenges in getting the film made—and her deep
affection for the father who passed away when she was such a young girl—the song
takes on greater emotional heft each time I hear it. I’m not generally a fan of
this song, honestly, and I didn’t particularly enjoy the staging of it during the
movie, but I can’t deny the power with which she displays the rawness of the
emotions she has when she sings it.
We
had a brief intermission during which two friends and I kept gushing about how
much we were in awe of her singing and how much we were enjoying the concert. The
youngest of us, who is in his early 30s, had never seen her perform live and shared
with us that this was the greatest performance he had ever seen. By anyone.
Ever. I reminded him that he needed to start going to see people like
Streisand. One day, when she has retired, he will be glad that he did.
Act
II began with a charming rendition of “Pure Imagination” from Willy
Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Streisand was joined on stage by Seth
McFarlane, who sings the song with her on the new album. It’s a delightful song
made all the more charming by having them sing it without irony. Ever the
liberal activist, Streisand used the song as an opportunity to speak against
climate change and to encourage the audience to dream of saving our world from
destruction. McFarlane has a lovely singing voice, and even though he might not
be Streisand’s equal in vocal prowess, their duet served as a sweet reminder of
how well she can match her partner’s range.
A
duet of “Who Can I Turn to?” featuring the video image of Anthony Newley must
have taken a lot of careful planning. I’m not sure from where the footage came,
but she managed to keep the tempo of the song consistent with Newley’s
performance. It’s a shame that she didn’t record more duets during the first
half of her career with people like him; their theatricality complements each
other’s vocal stylings quite well. At least she’s made up for this by recording
a series of duets albums, and she’s included some surprising partners along the
way. When Jamie Foxx joined her on “Climb Every Mountain” from The
Sound of Music, the crowd erupted. Foxx has a stellar voice, and his
prowess clearly challenged Streisand to reach the upper range of her voice. It
was stunning to see how these two staggeringly different singers can work so
well together.
Streisand
revisited two songs from Funny Lady, a film she didn’t want
to make but was contractually obligated to do. She selected “Isn’t This Better”
and “How Lucky Can You Get?” to represent the movie’s plot, and even if she
were a little fuzzy on the details of where “Isn’t This Better?” fits into the
film’s plot, the emotional heft of both songs was just as strong last night as
it was in the 1975 film. I hope that she decides to revisit some of her other
less-favored projects in the future. Perhaps she will address some of these in
the autobiography she claims to be writing. That book is sure to right some perceived
wrongs from a long career.
For
me, the two greatest highlights of the evening occurred during the second half
of the show. She took a song that has been performed too many times by too many
bad performers and that has been given “definitive” performances by some of the
greatest singers of the Broadway stage, “Losing My Mind” from Follies,
and managed to draw out the most powerful emotional response of the night. I
was in tears throughout most of the song. I know others, including dear, close
friends of mine, who would argue that others have sung the song better, but I
think anyone who puts her version of this song against the others would be hard
pressed to disagree that she managed to show greater depth and clarity in the
lines about the impact of lost and unrequited love. It was a show-stopper, and
I didn’t know how she would top it.
She
came mighty close with another song from A Star Is Born, “With One More Look
at You.” In the film, the song encapsulates Esther’s emotions over the loss of
her husband, John Norman Howard (played by Kris Kristofferson) and caps the
film (paired with “Watch Closely Now”) in a powerful way. The video behind her performance
on Tuesday showed the arc of the characters’ relationship throughout the film.
However, even without the accompanying images, Streisand’s selection of this
song was a powerful gift to those who have seen every movie and listened to
every song and watched every television special. She picked a song that would
truly reach those fans who could instantly recognize and engage with the
emotions she brings to it.
The
show ended with a powerful grouping of songs designed to showcase how well
Streisand can sing despite all of the harping from her detractors. I agree (and
have said before) that her voice is huskier and perhaps even raspier than in
the past, but after listening to the latest rendition of “Children Will Listen,”
the third and final Sondheim song of the night, I would still rather hear
Streisand than almost anyone who populates the radio airwaves these days. Arguably
her greatest song, “People” has managed to change with each performance and her
understanding of it has certainly deepened. She told the audience that she
initially questioned if people who didn’t need people weren’t actually the
luckiest people in the world. You can see her point—and that must have taken
some strong will for a teenager to question Jules Styne over a lyric—but her
rendition last night shows that she gets it now. The last song of the night, “Happy
Days Are Here Again,” is one that she’s been singing for more than fifty years,
but in this charged political environment, her choice of it to end her show
reveals the depth of her commitment to the Demoncratic Party and its
principles. You have to admire the consistency with which she has used both her
music and her status as an entertainer to champion the causes in which she
believes.
The
applause at the end of the night was so strong that she had to return several
times to take bows. She didn’t add any encores, but even without additional
songs, the audience was reluctant to leave even when the lights came on. Some
of them had been quite vocal during the evening, shouting at rather inopportune
times. I think they get to see her so rarely and just love her so much that
they cannot help themselves. When a beloved star like Streisand goes on tour
these days, the crowds still show up. She might not sell as many records as the
twentysomethings who dominate music nowadays, but the appreciation for what she
has achieved and what she still represents is ever present at one of her performances.
It
took almost two more hours for my friends and I to recover from the show. We
walked around downtown Los Angeles (DTLA, as it’s called now) and had drinks at
a couple of bars, neither of which I’d ever seen before, Bar Mattachine and
Precinct. There was a lot of going over of the highlights. There were a few
criticisms here and there—I personally could have done without the “mentalist,” Lior Suchard, whose act ground the first half of the show to a halt—and a few
reconsiderations of earlier criticisms. I have no doubt that such conversations
were taking place all over the city by those who attended and those who wished
they had attended. It was a magical night, one which I will not soon forget.
