The opening night of Showboat, 
          15 November 1927, was a defining moment in 
          the history of American musical theatre. Quite 
          apart from the quality of the book, music 
          and lyrics, this show broke new ground by 
          proving it was possible to address difficult 
          issues, in this case miscegenation, in the 
          context of light entertainment. Since its 
          première Showboat has been through 
          umpteen productions, including a film, and 
          as the notes accompanying this CD point out, 
          every production has been different. Various 
          musical numbers have either been included 
          or excised; words have often been changed; 
          and the orchestral arrangements have been 
          many and various. 
        
 
        
I first saw the show at Stratford-on-Avon 
          a good number of years ago in a memorable 
          co-production between Opera North and the 
          Royal Shakespeare Company. That experience 
          inspired me to invest in John McGlinn’s superb 
          1987 recording for EMI. That indispensable 
          recording is in many ways definitive, not 
          just because it is out of the top drawer artistically 
          but also because it follows very closely the 
          original 1927 score, although it omits some 
          extensive passages of music, which underscore 
          dialogue. It also includes, as an appendix, 
          a good selection of additional numbers either 
          cut from the show during its try-out runs 
          or added for subsequent productions. 
        
 
        
The McGlinn venture is as 
          near as we’re likely to come to an ur-text 
          recording. This fascinating Naxos release, 
          though it can and should be enjoyed simply 
          as entertainment, also expands our knowledge 
          of the recorded history of this great show. 
        
 
        
It’s based on two albums. 
          One is the 1946 Broadway Revival album. The 
          other is a 1932 offering, "Brunswick 
          Presents the Musical Romance." It will 
          be noted that several numbers are common to 
          both, thus presenting a fascinating chance 
          to compare performance styles. 
        
 
        
One number that is not common, 
          though it might appear so from the track-listing, 
          is the Overture. The two pieces we hear on 
          this CD are completely different from each 
          other, though each is a pot-pourri of melodies 
          from the show. I’m afraid I can’t say who 
          compiled the 1932 piece. The 1946 Overture 
          is apparently the work of the celebrated Robert 
          Russell Bennett, no less. I wonder if he was 
          also the arranger for the other 1946 numbers? 
          What is certain is that neither is the original 
          1927 Overture as presented by McGlinn. The 
          two pieces are quite different. The 1946 version 
          is much more obviously "arranged". 
          Some may find it too opulent and may prefer 
          the more authentic, comparatively raw feel 
          of the 1932 piece. I enjoyed both but I found 
          I preferred marginally the more polished 1946 
          piece. This rather surprised me since I’m 
          a huge fan of the 1927 score and the overture 
          to that much more closely resembles the 1932 
          piece stylistically. 
        
 
        
The 1932 recording has one 
          very obvious trump card, the presence of the 
          inimitable Paul Robeson as Joe. He is surprisingly 
          fleet in his pacing of ‘Ol’ Man River’ but 
          his sincere phrasing and simple, direct delivery 
          is unique. Kenneth Spencer (1946) is good 
          too. He has a deep, rich voice. He brings 
          a blues-like inflection to the song, bending 
          a good number of notes. It’s a valid approach 
          but for me the song is so fine that it doesn’t 
          need that sort of ‘help’ to make its expressive 
          effect. The treatment of the song in 1946 
          is more as a "big number" than in 
          1932 and Spencer is joined by a chorus – not 
          a very good one, I fear. 
        
 
        
It’s fascinating to hear 
          another truly great song, ‘Bill’, sung by 
          the creator of the role of Julie, Helen Morgan. 
          She delivers the number in a light voice, 
          sounding like a young girl expressing open-hearted 
          enthusiasm for her man. There’s a touch of 
          innocent vulnerability. By contrast, Carol 
          Bruce (1946) is clearly a much more mature 
          woman with a voice to match and she takes 
          the song in a lower key. Bruce’s is a more 
          "sophisticated" approach, very much 
          post-war in style. One assumes that Morgan’s 
          was the voice and vocal style that Kern had 
          in mind but it strikes me as being a bit too 
          pert. I rather prefer the later version – 
          but it’s great to have the contrast. 
        
 
        
I feel that Carol Bruce also 
          captures better the bittersweet flavour of 
          ‘Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man’ more effectively 
          than does Helen Morgan. Having said that, 
          not everyone will like the big-band nature 
          of the accompaniment in 1946. It sounds a 
          bit like the work of Nelson Riddle, though 
          I’m sure it’s not. Think Riddle, however, 
          and you may get an aural picture. I’m not 
          for one moment getting at Riddle, by the way. 
          He was a supreme arranger but not, perhaps 
          one whose style would be best suited to Showboat. 
          On the credit side of the ledger, however, 
          the 1946 recording presents this song, authentically, 
          with the involvement of Queenie and Joe, whereas 
          the 1932 version is a solo and less interesting 
          as a result. 
        
 
        
There’s one aspect of the 
          1932 recording that just doesn’t work for 
          me at all, I’m afraid. This is the singing 
          of James Melton. His is a most peculiar voice. 
          It’s a light tenor in essence, though where 
          it’s needed he has plenty of power. His production 
          is easy and very forward and as a voice it 
          has a great deal to commend it. Unfortunately, 
          his delivery is almost comic. I don’t know 
          if he was Irish but he pronounces words in 
          what I can only describe as a Hollywood-style 
          caricature Irish accent such as was used by 
          actors playing kindly New York Irish cops 
          in a certain type of 1930s movie. This style 
          is all wrong for the role of Gaylord Ravenal. 
          In fact after a while I found it completely 
          off-putting. Melton has two superb solos to 
          sing and his voice easily encompasses the 
          wide vocal range of both songs. Were it not 
          for the truly dreadful accent he’d be a pleasure 
          to listen to. As it is, I’m afraid this was 
          a grotesque piece of mis-casting. 
        
 
        
Better by far is Charles 
          Fredericks (1946). His delivery is easy, natural 
          and completely unaffected. His voice is heavier 
          than Melton’s and has a baritonal quality 
          to it. His singing gives pleasure. Importantly, 
          too, the 1946 recording presents both ‘You 
          Are Love’ and ‘Only Make Believe’ as duets 
          between Ravenal and Magnolia, as they should 
          be. In both duets Fredericks is joined to 
          excellent effect by Jan Clayton. 
        
 
        
To return for a moment to 
          Melton, I wonder why Frank Munn took over 
          the role of Ravenal for ‘Why Do I Love You?’ 
          Oddly, this number was set down on the same 
          date as ‘Make-Believe’ (9 August 1932), whereas 
          Melton had already made a separate trip to 
          the studio to record ‘You Are Love’ on 20 
          July. Anyway, whatever the reason for the 
          change it’s an improvement, I think. Countess 
          Olga Albani sounds a bit like a grand-dame, 
          as befits her title and both she and Munn 
          sound rather "high society" but 
          Munn is infinitely preferable to Melton. The 
          same number appears in the 1946 recording 
          and the version here, well sung by Jan Clayton 
          and Charles Fredericks, is much closer to 
          the 1927 original text 
        
 
        
Now a few comments about 
          numbers that aren’t common to both recordings. 
          The final 1932 track is entitled ‘Finale’, 
          to which one might ask "Finale to what?" 
          It’s certainly not the finale to the 1927 
          show and I can only imagine that this was 
          put together especially for the recording. 
          As with the overture it’s a pot-pourri 
          of tunes from the show and it’s mainly for 
          orchestra though right at the very end a chorus, 
          rather predictably, reprises ‘Ol’ Man River.’ 
        
 
        
The 1946 album contains a 
          vigorous but exhilarating account of ‘Cotton 
          Blossom’ – what a splendid number to have 
          so near the start of a show! Colette Lyons 
          is hugely entertaining in ‘Life Upon The Wicked 
          Stage’. Her performance is just right, suiting 
          this ironic number to a tee. And there’s also 
          ‘Nobody Else But Me.’ This song was added 
          to the show for the 1946 production and it 
          has the distinction of being Kern’s last song. 
          It features a typically grateful melody and 
          equally typically inventive lyrics by Hammerstein. 
          It’s persuasively put across by Jan Clayton. 
        
 
        
The odd man out in all this, 
          since it comes from neither album, is ‘Ah 
          Still Suits Me,’ a vehicle for Paul Robeson 
          in the 1936 film in which Joe duets with Queenie. 
          Not perhaps one of Kern’s finest numbers but 
          it’s good to have the chance to hear Robeson 
          in it. 
        
 
        
You may wonder why I’ve written 
          such a detailed review of a disc of vintage 
          musical recordings, treating this as if it 
          were a recording of excerpts from Grand Opera. 
          Well, frankly, Showboat is such a significant 
          part of the history of twentieth-century music 
          theatre that one has to pay it the compliment 
          of treating it just as seriously as one would 
          an opera. That’s not to say that one can’t 
          and shouldn’t just surrender to the superb 
          music and lyrics and enjoy them for their 
          own sake. And this Naxos CD deserves to be 
          taken pretty seriously too for it offers us 
          a fascinating and very welcome chance to hear 
          how music from the show was presented in the 
          1930s and 1940s, two key decades in the evolution 
          of Broadway musicals and their performance. 
        
 
        
A quick word about presentation. 
          The transfers are good. The notes are useful. 
          No texts are provided but for English-speaking 
          listeners that won’t be a problem for the 
          diction of all the solo singers is very clear. 
          Finally the evocative cover picture, something 
          one doesn’t often comment on, is well chosen 
        
 
        
This is a fascinating opportunity 
          to compare and contrast the styles – and standards 
          – of singing between these two albums and 
          the same is true of the orchestral arrangements. 
          I must admit a strong preference for the vocal 
          performances in the 1946 version, even though 
          I know that the arrangements are not ‘authentic’ 
          and may strike some as too sophisticated and 
          ‘big band’ in nature. But that’s how things 
          were done in those days. Having said that, 
          I wouldn’t want to be without Paul Robeson. 
          This CD seems to me to be an essential supplement 
          to the McGlinn recording for all those who 
          love this truly wonderful show. 
        
John Quinn  
          
          An essential supplement to the McGlinn recording 
          for all those who love this truly wonderful 
          show. ... see Full Review