Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Pandolfi juggles comedy and melody at Forum
Emile Pandolfi mounted a stage elegantly set with a black-curtained backdrop, a grand piano and a few floral arrangements at the Kitty Hawk Elementary School Saturday.
Wearing a dark tuxedo with a black tee-shirt and a red kerchief in his pocket, he commenced the penultimate concert of the Outer Banks Forum for the Lively Arts 2003-2004 season--the last season to be held at the school in Kitty Hawk.
Introduced by Forum President William Teague as a "pianist and a gentleman," the nattily attired Pandolfi limped across the stage.
"It's my first visit to Kitty Hawk," he told the audience, "and I walked on the beach.
"I think there's some sand or something in my ..." and he slipped off one of his patent pumps, from which he produced a rock the size of a baking potato. "Heh, heh--these foam 'rocks' are fun; they've been going around..."
He tossed the "foam" rock on the stage where it landed with a heavy clunk.
"Well," he continued, "I have a note from someone in the audience--'Dear Mr. Pandoofy--Would you play a little country?'
"Okay," Pamdolfi said, looking up from the note. "I choose Spain. Here's my take on the 'Malaguena.'"
And in a pattern he would follow for the rest of the evening, Pandolfi segued from comedy to melody and back. His "Malaguena" was fluid and light at first, precise and profound at its climax. He played nimbly on his well-miked acoustic grand piano, bringing the flamenco piece to a dramatic finish.
"Thank you," he said to applause. "Just learned that this morning."
He went on to mention some of the famous locales he had played in--Paris (Texas) and Rome (Georgia). "In these exotic places I played the next two tunes."
And so he played Victor Young and Harold Adamson's "Around the World" and Vincent Scotto's "Under the Bridges of Paris," standards from the 1950's and '30's, respectively.
Pandolfi's command of the piano was complete; he played it like an orchestra. At times he used effects, like echoing octaves, that one might expect from an entertainer such as Liberace, but which Pandolfi deployed rather more tastefully.
Comparisons were begged. Like Pandolfi, Liberace used humor in his shows; his persona was likewise necessarily grounded in a huge talent. But while Liberace took his act to the next level of camp and flamboyance, Pandolfi takes his to the next level of sophistication.
A better comparison might be to Victor Borge, although Borge's comedy ran right through his playing. Pandolfi's comedy was used to introduce his straight musical renditions, producing a varied, unique and always interesting evening.
Introducing a medley of love songs from the sixties and seventies, he spoke of meeting his future wife. "After the police left, as the emergency lights illuminated the little shards of safety-glass in her hair ... I realized how attractive she was ...."
That medley comprised delicate versions of Don McLean's "Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)," David Gates' "If" and Paul Simon's "Scarborough Fair," reminding one of the musical pleasures of the piano. It is the complete musical instrument, able to handle single notes, complex rhythms and melody, or accompany an orchestra.
Pandolfi showed it could rock, too, with a driving version of Jack Fina's "Bumble Boogie," a boogie-woogie version of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumble Bee," which boogied and woogied vigorously.
"Romance," Pandolfi went on. "Since most songwriters have been men," he averred, loosely, "It's natural that we should write about ... girls.
"We write songs about our dream girls: 'I'm just a girl who can't say no...'"
Cue: "Gigi," "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" and "Dulcinea."
Pandolfi played Lerner and Loewe's "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" with a section that sounded as if two Pandolfis were playing at once. He took the opposite tack with Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston's "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes," having arranged it for only one hand.
He covered the bass on the left end of the keyboard and the melody on the right seamlessly, his left hand rushing up and down the keys like a caffeinated spider.
Still, only hearing it would reveal nothing unusual beyond a lovely rendition. (He did use his right hand to grab a handkerchief from the piano and wipe his face, and the last note of the song was sounded by his northern index finger.)
He even gave some country music the Pandolfi treatment, notably Dolly Parton's really pretty "I Will Always Love You." The tune here was well-served by the fixed notes of the piano, unlike Whitney Houston's searching (as in, for the notes) vocal version, which has been known to make cats' hair stand on end.
These notes can relay but a small portion of the evening's entertainment; one man + one piano x humor x talent = a great and eclectic night of fun (a Broadway medley Pandolfi called "The Miserable Phantom of Argentina") and beauty ("Don't Cry for Me, Argentina") from the same medley.
When the audience stood for an encore, he returned from the wings. "I will play you another, because," he said, impressively, "I know more than thirteen songs!"
©2004 Womack Newspapers Inc.
Wearing a dark tuxedo with a black tee-shirt and a red kerchief in his pocket, he commenced the penultimate concert of the Outer Banks Forum for the Lively Arts 2003-2004 season--the last season to be held at the school in Kitty Hawk.
Introduced by Forum President William Teague as a "pianist and a gentleman," the nattily attired Pandolfi limped across the stage.
"It's my first visit to Kitty Hawk," he told the audience, "and I walked on the beach.
"I think there's some sand or something in my ..." and he slipped off one of his patent pumps, from which he produced a rock the size of a baking potato. "Heh, heh--these foam 'rocks' are fun; they've been going around..."
He tossed the "foam" rock on the stage where it landed with a heavy clunk.
"Well," he continued, "I have a note from someone in the audience--'Dear Mr. Pandoofy--Would you play a little country?'
"Okay," Pamdolfi said, looking up from the note. "I choose Spain. Here's my take on the 'Malaguena.'"
And in a pattern he would follow for the rest of the evening, Pandolfi segued from comedy to melody and back. His "Malaguena" was fluid and light at first, precise and profound at its climax. He played nimbly on his well-miked acoustic grand piano, bringing the flamenco piece to a dramatic finish.
"Thank you," he said to applause. "Just learned that this morning."
He went on to mention some of the famous locales he had played in--Paris (Texas) and Rome (Georgia). "In these exotic places I played the next two tunes."
And so he played Victor Young and Harold Adamson's "Around the World" and Vincent Scotto's "Under the Bridges of Paris," standards from the 1950's and '30's, respectively.
Pandolfi's command of the piano was complete; he played it like an orchestra. At times he used effects, like echoing octaves, that one might expect from an entertainer such as Liberace, but which Pandolfi deployed rather more tastefully.
Comparisons were begged. Like Pandolfi, Liberace used humor in his shows; his persona was likewise necessarily grounded in a huge talent. But while Liberace took his act to the next level of camp and flamboyance, Pandolfi takes his to the next level of sophistication.
A better comparison might be to Victor Borge, although Borge's comedy ran right through his playing. Pandolfi's comedy was used to introduce his straight musical renditions, producing a varied, unique and always interesting evening.
Introducing a medley of love songs from the sixties and seventies, he spoke of meeting his future wife. "After the police left, as the emergency lights illuminated the little shards of safety-glass in her hair ... I realized how attractive she was ...."
That medley comprised delicate versions of Don McLean's "Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)," David Gates' "If" and Paul Simon's "Scarborough Fair," reminding one of the musical pleasures of the piano. It is the complete musical instrument, able to handle single notes, complex rhythms and melody, or accompany an orchestra.
Pandolfi showed it could rock, too, with a driving version of Jack Fina's "Bumble Boogie," a boogie-woogie version of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumble Bee," which boogied and woogied vigorously.
"Romance," Pandolfi went on. "Since most songwriters have been men," he averred, loosely, "It's natural that we should write about ... girls.
"We write songs about our dream girls: 'I'm just a girl who can't say no...'"
Cue: "Gigi," "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" and "Dulcinea."
Pandolfi played Lerner and Loewe's "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" with a section that sounded as if two Pandolfis were playing at once. He took the opposite tack with Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston's "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes," having arranged it for only one hand.
He covered the bass on the left end of the keyboard and the melody on the right seamlessly, his left hand rushing up and down the keys like a caffeinated spider.
Still, only hearing it would reveal nothing unusual beyond a lovely rendition. (He did use his right hand to grab a handkerchief from the piano and wipe his face, and the last note of the song was sounded by his northern index finger.)
He even gave some country music the Pandolfi treatment, notably Dolly Parton's really pretty "I Will Always Love You." The tune here was well-served by the fixed notes of the piano, unlike Whitney Houston's searching (as in, for the notes) vocal version, which has been known to make cats' hair stand on end.
These notes can relay but a small portion of the evening's entertainment; one man + one piano x humor x talent = a great and eclectic night of fun (a Broadway medley Pandolfi called "The Miserable Phantom of Argentina") and beauty ("Don't Cry for Me, Argentina") from the same medley.
When the audience stood for an encore, he returned from the wings. "I will play you another, because," he said, impressively, "I know more than thirteen songs!"
©2004 Womack Newspapers Inc.
