In April 2019, while I was living in New York City, my Dad and I went to see Tony Bennett perform at Radio City Music Hall. Here is a part of what I wrote about the concert:
Tony Bennett is twice is old as I am and just might have twice the energy. Although he has been singing the same tunes for sixty years, he sings them with the same passion sixty years later. Before he came on stage, there was an audio recording of Frank Sinatra calling Bennett the best singer in the world. Blue Eyes description was apt 60 years ago, it is apt today. Bennett retains a remarkable ability to emote, hold and phrase lyrics and notes whether it's "This Is All I Ask", "Steppin' Out With My Baby" (which introduced him to the MTV generation a generation ago), "How Do You Keep The Music Playing?", "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" and "Fly Me to the Moon".
I have seen several acts of Bennett's vintage perform (i.e. Dave Brubeck and Toots Thielemann). They had to be helped to the stage due to their advanced age. The same cannot be said of Bennett who not only walked unassisted, but walked around stage to various members of the band throughout the night. He sang about two dozen songs one right after the other without taking a break. At the end of the show, he walked on and off the stage about half a dozen times teasing the audience with an encore. Let's just say his level of energy is atypical for a 92 year old man. But it's easy to see and hear why. He loves what he does and why should he stop what he loves to do? How else can you explain someone who can keep pace with Lady Gaga?
Tony Bennett has resonated with live audiences for generations. It would come as no surprise to me if in 20 years from now he will be alive, well and continue to resonate with a new generation of an audience at the ripe old age of 112. One can only hope.
Today, the world learned that Tony Bennett has had Alzheimer's Disease since 2016. This fact makes what I described above all the more remarkable. No one would have known anything was amiss. Indeed, chances are Bennett probably still could do a 90-minute set. But this has been curtailed because of COVID. Like most musicians, Bennett hasn't performed in front of a live audience since March 2020. His condition also makes him vulnerable to COVID. So Bennett's doctor recommended that he keeps practicing:
So, Devi recommended that Tony continue to rehearse, and twice a week, his longtime pianist Lee Musiker, who lives a mere three-minute walk away, comes to the apartment and runs through Tony's 90-minute set with him. On the day that I was visiting, Musiker arrived and stuck his head into the art studio where I was sitting with Susan, Danny and Tony. “Hi,” he said. “I'll go set up.” Susan led Tony from the studio to the adjoining living room, an oceanic space that held a black Bösendorfer grand piano. At the far end of the room, under a huge picture window holding a vista of the park, was an arrangement of sofas and chairs beneath a large canvas by Tony's friend, the renowned English artist David Hockney. This was a rehearsal, not a performance, so Tony faced his accompanist, his back to the nearby dining table where Susan, Danny and I sat.
Musiker placed a set list on the piano in front of Tony, but they didn't stick to it. Indeed, the first chord Musiker hit was from a song that wasn't on the list and that Tony hadn't sung much in recent years. Yet immediately, incredibly, he opened his mouth and out rolled a stream of rich, resonant notes, swelling up and outward from the lower part of his range, the melancholy tone perfectly matched to the lyric, which he produced with his famously clear articulation: “Maybe this tiiiime, I'll be luckyyyy …” The song was “Maybe This Time” by John Kander and Fred Ebb, made famous by Liza Minelli in the movie Cabaret in 1972, which is when Tony recorded it, in a stunning performance that he reproduced now. The song built in intensity as the lyrics and aching melody mounted into his high register, a full three octaves from where he started, increasing in volume and power until he was filling the room with a crescendoing cry: “It's got to happen, happen sometime—maybe this time, I'll winnnnnnn!"
So once COVID ceases to be the danger that it currently is then perhaps the 94-year old crooner will have a farewell tour just like Glen Campbell nearly a decade ago. While he might not speak the same, Tony Bennett has not sung his last song.
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