BY Octavio Roca, Chronicle Staff
Liza Minnelli stepped onto the Davies Hall stage Wednesday night and was greeted by the roar of thousands of her fans. She seemed wrapped in a rainbow, dressed first in a revealing shift striped m every color. She wore hoop diamond earrings and a million-dollar smile. She looked resplendent. And, despite later vocal troubles, which she addressed heroically, she sounded like no one else in the world. Within seconds Davies might have been the Olympia in Paris or London's famed Palladium. Here was an adored singer blessed with a distinctive voice, a gift she knows exactly how to apply to a performing philosophy that is sadly rare on the American stage these days: the vanishing true art of pop. Minnelli meant every note she sang. Each song was a scene, complete unto itself, acted with conviction and communicated with exuberance.
Each melody was carried as if life depended upon it This shameless, over-the-top entertairanent gets to the heart of showbiz magic and celebrates the sort of music that crosses barriers of class and generation. There were fans there Wednesday night old enough to have enjoyed Minnelli’s mother, Judy Garland, and fans who had not been born when Minnelli won her Oscar for "Cabaret" in 1972. There were women - and a few men - done up in trademark Liza makeup and haircuts, next to couples in elegant evening dress or others dressed in blue jeans. There were music fans, and they were not disappointed. Minnelli’s show had momentum, with no filler and a lot of variety. Even the musical breaks by the Cortes Alexander Trio, an extraordinary jazz threesome, lasted just long enough for Minnelli's costume changes into a retro-1970s pink pantsuit or a black silk number with what looked like a milelong feather boa.
Her dancing, marked as much by years of working with Bob Fosse as by simply the passing of years, was spiritied in a uniquely all-American way. Alone on stage, she was assured and determined to control recent vocal troubles - or at least in heartbreaking determination not to let them get in the way of touching her audience instantly, sweetly.
She began by confessing in song that "If my song can start you laughing, I'm happy" and proceeded to make the crowd giddy with excitement. Her hit “Ring Them Bells" has seldom been funnier, or her walk upstage sassier as she sneaked a drink of water between numbers.
There were surprises too."My Ship" suggested that Minnelli could be the finest Kurt Weill singer of our age, with conspiratorial whispers that were at least as fascinating as her powerful belt. The pathos of “Old Friend" from Stephen Sondheim's underrated "Merrily We Roll Along" brought out the rhythmic life of the lyrics with an ease few before have matched ' "Who's like us? Damn few!" Minnelli asked and answered in Sondheim's song, and her unmistakable bond with the audience felt strong. The show grew in emotional impact. There was touching hesitation in the raspy phrasing of "Gigi," from the hit motion picture directed by her father, Vincente Minnelli, then saucy humor as she sang “Thank Heaven For Little Boys" and introduced the handsome Cortes Alexander Trio. An unlikely tease from "Oklahoma!" - just a touch of "I'm Just a Girl Who Cain't Say No" resounded alongside a terrific medley of songs written especially for Minnelli by John Kander and Fred Ebb.
Not everything was ideal: Minnelli lost her voice at the end of Cabaret," of all things. She was frank about her recent throat operation and said she has been told by doctors that the voice will come back stronger than ever. Her breath control was as impeccable as her pitch, her middle voice grew stronger at the evening progressed and there were times the instrument was golden. She might be advised to rest for a few months, but I would hate to have missed the magic Minnelli is creating for three nights in San Francisco.. The emotional climax of the evening was long and ravishing. From her sultry new album, "Gently," she sang a string of Jewels including "It Had to Be You" and what Mimnelli described as her parents' favorite song, "Embraceable You."
She performed the gorgeous "All the Lives of Me" as a tribute to Peter Allen, Minnell's first husband, who died of AIDS. Minnelli then turned "The World Goes 'Round" into an inspirational message and later the devastating "The Day After That". from Kander and Ebb's "Kiss of the Spider Woman" into an anthem of hope for AIDS warriors everywhere.
The ending was simple. After she plunged ahead with an encore of "New York, New York," 'there was a truly gentle "Liza" addressed to her by the Cortes Alexander trio. Minnell returned in a tuxedo and did something I had never heard her do before: She sang one of Judy Garland's songs. It was "You Made Me Love You," unaccompanied and unaffected, now very much her own. It was wonderful.