The Billy Stritch Trio
Birdland, Through July 16

A line attributed to Artie Shaw about Lester Young, “You know, Lester played better clarinet than a lot of other guys who played better clarinet,” comes to mind as I watch Billy Stritch, who has been playing this weekend at Birdland with his trio. To paraphrase, “Billy Stritch plays more jazz piano than a lot of other guys who play more jazz piano.”

What I mean is that Mr. Stritch is known for a lot of things. He is primarily the musical director for virtually all the top divas, from Liza Minnelli to Marilyn Maye, and in Stephen Holden’s memorable phrase is “the accompanist du jour,” though that “jour” has lasted many decades. He’s also an excellent pianist-singer and occasional songwriter, in the tradition of Matt Dennis and Bobby Troup. 

He has led his own vocal group, the late and much-missed Plant, Montgomery, and Stritch, which followed the lead of The Manhattan Transfer and Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross. In all these guises, he is also the primary torch bearer of the legacy of Mel Torme: In fact, at least half the songs on his opening set on Friday evening had some connection to the late and legendary Mel. 

Everything else aside, Mr. Stritch is a fabulous jazz piano player on a purely instrumental level, or any other level. This year alone, I’ve heard him play for numerous singers; he shepherded an excellent Judy Garland tribute concert (which actually also honored Torme’s contribution to her legacy, and which we reviewed in these pages) and did a terrific tandem show with the inspired Gabrielle Stravelli. I can’t remember the last time I heard Mr. Stritch just playing for himself, with his own group.

Mr. Stritch has the technique to play almost anything he wants, and more than most musicians who have worked so extensively in cabaret and musical theater, he is at heart — and on the surface — a jazz musician. At the start of every show, I find myself wanting him to do more of what we think jazz pianists are supposed to do: to play a lot of super fast uptempos and improvisations. Yet I invariably quickly settle into the groove with him. Mr. Stritch goes his own way, to use a line employed by the late Freddy Cole, and his show is an “invitation to relaxation,” rather than a display of chops for its own sake.

Working with bassist Tom Hubbard and drummer Anthony Pinciotti, Mr. Stritch began the first set on Friday with two songs from the Torme bandbook, Kenny Rankin’s archetypical jazz waltz “Haven’t We Met?” and “No Moon at All,” which Torme learned from the King Cole Trio (for whom it was written).  

Apart from the Torme connection, Mr. Stritch has also undertaken to advance the cause of two singer-songwriters of the 1970s; somehow, it’s hip for jazz musicians to play Joni Mitchell or Tom Waits — which is as it should be — but not Barry Manilow or Peter Allen. Mr. Stritch makes an eloquent case for both of the latter.  Mr. Manilow’s “2:00 Paradise Cafe” served as half of a moody noir medley with Cy Coleman’s “With Ev’ry Breath I Take.” Later, he concocted a very moving mashup of two Peter Allen songs that use the symbol of flight as a metaphor, “Fly Away” and “Planes.”  

Still another Stritch specialty is bossa nova, as heard on his excellent 1997 release, “Waters of March — The Brazilian Album.”  Friday’s set included “This Happy Madness,” “If You Went Away,” and a collage of “One Note Samba” with “Night and Day,” Brazilian style. Along the way, he also delights in lesser-known songs by iconic songwriters, like two comparatively obscure Gershwin Brothers gems, “I Was Doing All Right” and “Changing My Tune,” and a sweet spot from a Jule Styne flop, “I Said It And I’m Glad.”  

Tune detective: That’s another of the many hats that Billy Stritch wears. Throughout the first show at Birdland, he performed with even more warmth, ease, and charm than he did during his pandemic-era internet sessions titled “Billy’s Place” — also reflected in his latest solo album. 

He encored on a cheerful note with “Life is Good,” a relatively recent song by Mr. Manilow, notably recorded by Dianne Schuur. Marty Panzer’s lyrics include the memorable phrase, “It’s taken me so long to learn / That stories change and pages turn.” It ends with, “The hurts don’t last too long / Life is good, like a song.”  It was a beautiful note — and thought — to end on.