MUSIC REVIEW : Cole Porter Program by DeGaetani and Smit

Without amplification or stage props, mezzo-soprano Jan DeGaetani and pianist Leo Smit gave an affectionate, honest, direct and yet not completely satisfying program of Cole Porter songs in the Bing Theater at the County Museum of Art on Wednesday.

In a generous sampling of items from 15 Porter musicals, DeGaetani sang with lustrous, poised, aristocratic tone, except when she wanted to get low-down, slangy and jazzy, even though that kind of singing sounded rather artificial and put-on for someone who has as classically trained and focused a voice as DeGaetani does.

But she also suffered a thinning-out in the mid-range, which created an uncomfortable break in her voice when she shifted between talky lyrics and more soaring melodic lines.

In addition, DeGaetani tended to favor singing very quietly. Perhaps she wanted to create an intimate cabaret ambiance, but her impact in the Bing confines was more meager than necessary, and one occasionally could not make out Porter’s frothy, witty, incomparable word-play.

Still, DeGaetani never approached Porter with less than discretion and intelligence, relying more on tasteful understatement than on pizazz to communicate. And she reached real expressive depths in some of the classic show-stoppers such as “Night and Day” and “Just One of Those Things,” where she uncannily colored or accented the right words to make musical line and lyrics coincide effectively.

Perhaps her most perfect match of art-song eloquence with emotional vulnerability, however, was “So in Love,” though running a close second was her chilling rendition of “Love for Sale,” with her final, hauntingly desolate vocalise.

For fun, there was her agile approach to the joke-like husband-hunting song “Find Me a Primitive Man” and the heavy-handed caricature of a Soviet bureaucrat-aesthetician in “Art,” which had been dropped from the show “Silk Stockings,” and never published. Here it was performed from manuscript, according to Smit’s informal remarks between selections.

Smit, who also provided erudite written program notes, proved a model of sensitive accompaniment--except when he added his pale, indistinct voice to the dialogue in “Cherry Pies Ought to Be You,” which unfortunately sounded more like a solo than a duet, as it was written.