Performers Turn to Cabarets in Costly Quest for Stardom

The nightclub cabaret, that showcase of the 1920s that conjures up images of slinky women and smoky rooms, appears ready for a comeback in a world used to more high-tech forms of entertainment.

A growing number of young singers, seeking new ways to reach fame in TV, film and records, are once again looking to small clubs, especially in New York, as a way to gain experience and be seen by that amorphous group known as “the right people.”

But it is not an easy road. Given the brutal economics of cabaret, these performers will probably lose up to $1,000 every time they go on stage.

“If you think about the cost, you’d probably never do it again,” says Patrick Dragonette, a polished 29-year-old tenor whose voice can fill a room without the aid of a microphone.

‘Don’t Tell Mama’

Dragonette and partner Beth Black went in together to do three nights at Don’t Tell Mama, a New York bar and cabaret in Manhattan’s theater district.

They are not stars, so the two had to “work the door,” meaning they were paid nothing by the bar but kept $9 out of the $10 cover charge received from patrons.

Dragonette estimates that after paying for 2 months of rehearsal time, musicians, musical direction, arrangements, stage direction, wardrobe and other costs, they spent more than $3,000 of their own money.

Playing to capacity audiences, they took in just $1,800 over the 3 nights and split the loss.

The reason for going through the ordeal is simple. It represents a chance to be discovered by the show business establishment.

“I could see him, given the right circumstances, with a recording contract,” says Dragonette’s voice coach, Barbara Maier, a former opera soloist and theatrical singer. “Patrick is a phenomenal talent. The voice can do so many things.”

After all the work and money, the audience sees a slick, 50-minute show. “You’re coming to see a show, and it should be as professional as possible,” Maier says.

With a two-drink minimum--the way the club makes its money--the show costs each patron at least $25.

Filling those seats is no simple task, either. Management typically does little to promote its lesser-known singers; performers are left to produce their own publicity, which meant another $400 on flyers for Dragonette.

“It should have been more, but I got a break because I know someone in the envelope business,” Dragonette admitted.

To earn the money for these showcases, singers such as Dragonette populate the city’s restaurants and bars as waiters and bartenders, leading to a New York joke that the best way to get a waiter’s attention in a restaurant is to yell out: “Oh, actor.”

Dragonette has an ideal mix of the two worlds. He works as a singing bartender at Broadway Baby, a piano bar and cabaret showcase on Manhattan’s trendy Upper West Side.

“The job was a godsend,” he said.

The bar is one of a small but growing number of clubs emerging in the city as people seek the direct contact of a live performance after spending much of their entertainment time in front of TV.

Maier says the intimacy of cabaret is making that form of entertainment increasingly popular after hitting a low point in the 1970s. “There are a huge number of people who are discovering cabaret,” he says.