Photo by Tom Alvarez
On September 3 at Feinstein’s at Hotel Carmichael in Carmel, Ind, Marilyn Maye offered what only a consummate cabaret artist can: an evening that felt intimate, spontaneous, beautifully shaped and deeply generous. From the first notes of “The Song Is You,” she made clear this would not be a museum-piece tour through standards, but a living conversation among singer, song, musicians and audience.
Photo by Tom Alvarez
The set moved easily from classic American Songbook material to character-driven theater and jazz-inflected storytelling, with many songs carrying a sweet, melancholic quality that suited Maye’s gift for finding both lift and ache inside a lyric. She opened with “The Song Is You,” then moved through a Johnny Mercer medley, the buoyant independence of “Any Place I Hang My Hat Is Home,” the romantic ease of “My Romance” and the bright confidence of “No Bad News.” The program deepened with “Late Afternoon” / “Bye Bye Country Boy,” a Duke Ellington medley, the moody sophistication of “Lush Life” and the dramatic precision of “Guess Who I Saw Today.” The clear showstopper was “Fifty Percent,” from the musical “Ballroom,” which brought the crowd to its feet for a standing ovation. She closed the emotional arc with “Here’s to Life,” turning the evening into both a display of vocal command and a reflection on resilience, memory and lived experience.
Maye was superbly supported by her longtime pianist and music director, Tedd Firth, one of the finest accompanists in the cabaret and symphony worlds, who also plays regularly for Michael Feinstein. His playing gave the evening both elegance and momentum. Their chemistry was unmistakable: Firth seemed to anticipate her every musical move, following her shifts in tempo, color and emphasis with the ease of someone who knows not only the repertoire but also the artist behind it. There was obvious affection in his playing, and even something gently protective in the way he framed and supported her. The trio was completed by local musicians Jeremy Allen on bass and Cassius Goens on drums, who provided a responsive, swinging foundation that allowed Maye’s phrasing, timing and storytelling to breathe naturally.
That affection was not confined to the bandstand. It was clear in the way the crowd responded to Maye, with the warmth and attentiveness reserved for a performer of rare stature. She mirrored that devotion with easy, playful banter, making the room feel less like a formal performance space than a gathering of old friends. The exchange gave the evening an added glow: The audience adored her, and Maye knew exactly how to turn that adoration into connection, humor and shared delight.
Photo by Tom Alvarez
All in all, the evening was more than a fine cabaret performance; it was a persuasive argument against ever defining an artist, or anyone, by age. At 98, Maye made that point not as an abstraction but as living proof. Much of her material and commentary addressed the idea directly and indirectly, revealing a performer whose experience has sharpened her wit, deepened her storytelling and strengthened her command of a room. Equally striking were the vocal gifts that remain not merely intact but impressively strong: Her pitch was secure, her breath control disciplined, her tone steady and her phrasing impeccable. She knew exactly when to hold a note, when to lean into a lyric, when to pull back for intimacy and when to release the full theatrical force of a phrase. At an age when some might expect retreat or nostalgia, Maye remains vibrantly relevant: vocally focused, rhythmically alert, emotionally present and fully in charge of her gift. Her stamina was remarkable, but so was the purpose behind it; every number felt chosen, lived in and offered with the authority of someone still discovering fresh meaning inside familiar songs. Taken together, the performance had a magical quality and felt singular, the kind of rare evening audiences remember not simply because they heard a famous name, but because they witnessed a master still working at the height of her powers.
That made one detail all the more implausible: that an entertainer of Maye’s caliber could have had empty seats in the room. This is an artist who has been celebrated on stages as prestigious as Carnegie Hall and in leading New York cabaret rooms such as 54 Below and Birdland, and whose name still carries the weight of genuine show-business history. For anyone who missed this rare evening, there is still another chance: Tickets remain available at feinsteinshc.com for tonight’s 7:30 p.m. performance.
