Swank, as in Short

It’s around 8 o’clock on Tuesday night, and a parade of limos, Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs is crowding Cahuenga Boulevard near the corner of Hollywood Boulevard. The area’s regular population of street denizens watches curiously as the vehicles unload a stream of well-dressed patrons at the front door of the Catalina Bar & Grill.

The cafe-society crowd, a rare sight in this funky area of Hollywood, gradually moves inside the club, a venue best known for its presentation of top-level jazz acts. But jazz is only peripherally on the bill this evening, and the drawing card for the tony-looking audience becomes evident at 8:30.

Mr. Cafe Society himself--Bobby Short--stands in the dark at the rear of the club, momentarily unnoticed by a crowd packed into every available space in the room. Unmoving, unsmiling, he checks his tie and adjusts his tuxedo jacket, waiting patiently until the sound system finally erupts:

“Ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome Mr. Bobby Short!”

Still unmoving, Short waits a few more beats, as the applause rises and his 10-piece band builds to an introductory climax. Then, suddenly animated, he eases smoothly through the tables, parrying and thrusting his body with the fluid movements of a boxer, finally arriving on stage and bursting into song.

Short’s mobile, cherubic face, smiling as he sings, is a study in dynamic emotion, as different from his earlier, stoic gaze as a light bulb that has just been switched on.

But it’s not surprising. Short is an entertainer in the true sense of the word--like Frank Sinatra, he likes to call himself a “saloon singer.” And when the stage lights brighten, he comes alive.

Not wasting any time, he rips through three or four songs, one after the other. Undeterred by an initially erratic microphone and lighting that never fully illuminates his ebullient countenance, he sounds in top form. His distinctive voice--with its instantly recognizable timbre, its passionately quivering vibrato and its soaring, declamatory climaxes--utterly belies the fact that, at 71, Short has been singing for more than 60 years, an entertainer since he was a vaudeville child star.

The crowd, peppered with entertainment industry types, greets Short’s opening sequence of tunes with rousing enthusiasm, applauding vigorously as he spreads his arms in thankful acceptance, smiling benignly at his listeners. The personification of elegance, surrounded by musicians who also are clad in formal evening wear, he surveys his audience for a moment before announcing his approval of their own attire.

“We are so glad you’ve turned out, especially in such numbers,” Short says, “and that you are so well-dressed, so attractive and so [pausing for a beat] well-heeled. On Cahuenga Boulevard, that counts for something.”

Then, indirectly explaining his presence in this unusual--for him--location, he adds, “I got my start, you know, right around the corner, at a club on Vine Street, as a between-the-acts pianist--oh, dozens of years ago.”

*

More numbers follow, with Short surveying a collection of songs ranging from Cole Porter and Victor Young to Lil Green and Andy Razaf (“Andy lived right around the corner from me in those days,” he adds).

Almost every tune is accompanied by a brief, but fascinating historical tidbit. Short is a walking compendium of information about classic American songwriting, and he loves to include the usually seldom-heard verses to songs as well as their more familiar choruses.

He opens Porter’s “Just One of Those Things,” for example, with a witty series of opening verse lines that included “As Juliet cried in her Romeo’s ear, ‘Romeo, why not face the facts, my dear?’ . . . It was just one of those things. . . .”

Most of the numbers in his opening set trace to a new Telarc album, “Celebrating 30 Years at the Cafe Carlyle,” featuring Short with his 10-piece “orchestra”--an expansive departure from his usual work with a trio.

“I wanted,” he says, “to do something special for the 30th anniversary at the Carlyle. And it seemed like such a wonderful idea to bring in more musicians. I like it because I don’t have to feel locked at the piano. If I want to, I can stand up and completely deal with the song.”

Which is exactly what he does at Catalina throughout the set, reaching out to listeners eager to be touched by his special brand of musical magic. The band, which includes such first-rate Los Angeles jazz artists as trumpeter Ron Stout and saxophonist Loren Schoenberg (who also serves as Short’s musical director), fills in the gaps with well-crafted soloing and rich-textured ensemble support.

And Short takes advantage of the setting to disclose his long-term affection and considerable talent for playing jazz. On one number, Schoenberg’s arrangement blends the classic jazz piece “Moten Swing” with Walter Donaldson’s “You’re Driving Me Crazy” (which share similar chord changes), and Short, resting his voice, adds some surging, Kansas City-style piano playing.

Both the live performance and the recent recording reveal a newly invigorated Short, clearly enjoying every moment and ready to use the large ensemble setting as a showcase for the next phase in his career.

Still, at least one member of the suited and tied, carefully coiffed audience isn’t terribly pleased with the nouveau Short.

“That was really something new,” says his friend, to which he grumpily replies, “Yeah, but I liked the old Short better.”

If so, he is in the distinct minority among a crowd savoring the singer’s every turn of phrase, every obscure period reference. Because, although his accompaniment may be different, Short continues to be the personification of everything that was once elegant and witty about American popular song. And for the balance of the week, he will be transforming Catalina Bar & Grill into a Far West outpost for music that is ineffably “smart,” “swell” and “divine.”

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* Bobby Short and his Orchestra at Catalina Bar & Grill through Saturday. 1640 N. Cahuenga Blvd., (213) 466-2210. $35 cover tonight, $45 cover Friday and Saturday. First shows, at 8:30 p.m., require dinner reservations; second shows, at 10 p.m., require dinner or two-drink minimum purchase.