For me, Lea Salonga is the quintessential Broadway performer: a dramatic vocalist with crystalline precision, a formidable belt and the stage presence to fill a theater without sacrificing intimacy. Most impressive was how she inhabited each song, clarified its emotional stakes and made every lyric count. Her career — including the 1991 Tony Award for best actress in a musical for playing Kim in Miss Saigon, appearances in Les Misérables and the singing voices of Princess Jasmine in Aladdin and Fa Mulan in Mulan — provided important context. Yet at Hilbert Circle Theatre, with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, she was not a distant star recounting past triumphs. She was a warm, thoughtful storyteller sharing the experiences that shaped her.
From the opening number, Salonga appeared completely at ease. Her celebrated qualities were immediately apparent: exact pitch, crisp diction, focused projection and resonant warmth even at full power. Her breath control sustained long phrases without blurring their meaning, and her belt sounded secure rather than forced. Even more impressive was her command of scale. A ringing high note could fill the hall, while a conversational phrase seemed directed to a single listener. She never made a song feel like a display piece; even familiar material became a compact dramatic scene.S
ISO Principal Pops Conductor Jack Everly and the orchestra matched her theatrical sensitivity. Everly’s Broadway background — including work with Marvin Hamlisch and Carol Channing — came through in his pacing, dramatic buildup and give-and-take with Salonga. The music breathed with her and carried a narrative rather than merely sounding polished. Transitions kept their momentum, and climaxes arrived naturally. The orchestra’s many youthful musicians brought freshness and dynamism to the performance. Brass and percussion supplied brilliance and lift, while the strings remained supple beneath Salonga’s quieter phrasing. The ensemble added color and scale without overwhelming her.
Salango’s pianist Daniel Edmond was an excellent musical partner, shaping introductions and transitions with a sensitive touch and responding closely to Salonga’s phrasing. His playing supplied rhythmic assurance without calling attention away from the vocals. Her vocalists Andew Koyzen and Yesmeen Sulieman were equally impressive in their duets with Salonga. Rather than functioning as mere backup singers, they brought confident tone, precise ensemble and distinct dramatic presence; their voices blended warmly with hers while remaining individual enough to make the exchanges feel like genuine conversations.
Salonga framed the program as a reflection of her personal and professional journey, a description that matched the evening I experienced. Broadway remained central, balanced by music from her Disney films and other movies, making the set both autobiographical and wide-ranging. Between songs, her warm banter made the large hall feel conversational. She recalled her first stage kiss and Broadway bow, her 1991 Tony win for Miss Saigon and seeing Saturday Night Fever with her parents. She also spoke about sharing the Broadway stage with Bernadette Peters in Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends. These anecdotes were more than charming diversions: They connected the young theatergoer she once was with the seasoned artist before us.
The strongest audience responses came during “Being Alive” from Company, a Miss Saigon medley and “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables. Each revealed a different facet of Salonga’s artistry. “Being Alive” benefited from her intelligence with text and emotional restraint; the Miss Saigon material carried the authority of lived history; and “I Dreamed a Dream” gained weight from her long association with Les Misérables. These selections made clear why she remains such a persuasive interpreter of musical theater. Every word was distinct, every choice felt intentional and the emotion arose from the character of the song rather than vocal excess.
My favorite moment, however, was her second encore: Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” The choice released the evening’s accumulated formality in a burst of uncomplicated joy. Salonga approached the pop anthem with the clarity and commitment she brought to Broadway, but with looser, celebratory energy. Everly and the orchestra supplied rhythmic drive and bright color, while Salonga turned the encore into a communal finale. I loved how it revealed another side of her artistry: She could command serious theatrical material, then pivot to exuberant pop without losing her distinctive sound or authority.
The packed house included many Asian audience members, suggesting Salonga’s cultural significance and broad appeal. That admiration was visible again in the lobby, where concertgoers eagerly snapped up her merchandise. The enthusiasm did not feel merely nostalgic. Salonga justified it with technical command, dramatic immediacy, humor and generosity. Everly’s theatrical instincts and the ISO’s youthful energy gave her an ideal setting, expanding the music without diluting its intimacy. By the end, the concert had joined symphonic scale to personal storytelling. Longtime fans could celebrate the roles and songs that made Salonga famous, while newcomers could understand her lasting importance to Broadway singing. I left remembering not simply the power of her voice, but the generosity with which she shared it.
