Singer Diana Krall Proves Her Best Feature Is Her Voice

If you’d only heard the publicity about Canadian singer-pianist Diana Krall, you might get the wrong impression. The glamour-girl cover art on her recordings, the “Melrose Place” appearances, the inviting magazine spreads? That’s not Krall at all.

The Krall that opened a two-night run in Founders Hall at the Orange County Performing Art Center on Friday, part of a three-night Southern California tour that also brought her to the Veterans Wadsworth Theater in Los Angeles on Sunday, was no siren. More Doris Day than Mae West, she was dressed in a floor-length, sleeveless, black evening gown and appeared uneasy, vulnerable, even shy as she sat on the piano bench squinting into the lights. She rarely smiled during the performance, and then only at some clever turn from her trio mates, guitarist Russell Malone and bassist Ben Wolfe, or to acknowledge a particularly hearty ovation from the packed house.

Krall’s true beauty shone through as she sang and played piano. Her voice had all the sexy sophistication that the fashion-model photos promise, but without the overconfident, seductress personality that her platinum good looks suggest. Warm, occasionally smoky and capable of the most delicate dynamics, it’s a voice that reveals honest personality and an intimacy few singers generate. Her phrasing is direct and intelligent, always in the service of telling the story rather than making some stylistic points.

During an especially melancholy reading of the Al Dubin-Harry Warren ballad “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” (which she dedicated to James Dean), Krall’s performance recalled Peggy Lee in both tone and in the way she got inside the lyric as if it were a dramatic role. Comparisons to Lee surfaced again during “Lost Mind” and Krall’s nearly conversational delivery and pacing.

While there was a certain adults-only content to her singing, Krall’s piano accompaniment was almost childlike in its playfulness and simplicity. Not a technically flashy player, Krall made every note count and gave each line meaning. She frequently injected quotes from other songs into her solos, and her spareness and perfect placement on “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” suggested the piano work of Shirley Horn.

Guitarist Malone was the virtuoso of the group, riffling through solos with sparkling runs and involved chordal progressions. Without bass or keyboard support and with Krall singing demurely from the piano bench, Malone’s accompaniment on “I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance With You” was a model of responsiveness and grace.

Krall closed the show with Dave Frishberg’s tune made famous by Blossom Dearie, “Peel Me a Grape,” but without Dearie’s cooing sexuality. Marketing aside, Krall may not have the personality to be a sex symbol, but oh can she sing.