How appropriate that Meredith d’Ambrosio devote an entire album to the music of Arthur Schwartz, for neither has ever received anywhere near the appreciation they deserve. Just as Schwartz (who, for the record, never won an Oscar and received only two nominations, despite decades of masterful film work) should be exalted alongside Berlin, Porter, Rodgers and Kern, d’Ambrosio can stand toe-to-toe with pretty much any jazz singer of the past half-century. Perhaps, for d’Ambrosio, it’s the result of her perennially understated style. She has, very much akin to Mabel Mercer, always maintained a less-is-more approach, a hushed elegance that gently propels each song like a paper boat across a still pond. Indeed, to stretch the analogy, her treatments suggest origami-delicate yet complex and filled with masterfully imaginative touches.
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