David Harris: Time is a Traveller

Time and time again we see that being a great singer is not enough to ensure a following. It takes something more, beyond the actual talent, and those that have it are in the minority. It’s a gift, and you can’t manufacture it. If anyone is confused about what the elusive nature of “Star Quality” is, they have only to see David Harris romance his audience for a solid 90 minutes to understand.

Harris, leading man of such shows as Wicked, Legally Blonde and Miss Saigon, has a lovely lyrical voice; but it’s the other attributes, the less tangible things, that make him a sheer delight to watch. For a start he is totally natural and at ease with the audience, and he makes every one of them feel like they are sharing a personal and intimate encounter with him. He’s charming and self deprecating with a boyish sense of humour and a refreshing open-ness. He is, as we would say, without any “side”. He’s also impeccably, though not flashily, dressed (it’s always lovely to see a man with French cuffs and cufflinks), and yet quite at home with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He embraces the audience and makes us want to hug him. He’s everyman, yet someone special. In short, he’s adorable to men and women alike, and it isn’t surprising to learn that he is off to conquer, in a quiet and beautiful way, New York City’s cabaret scene.

But all this wouldn’t amount to success if he wasn’t also one heck of a singer. With a warm rich voice reminiscent of the Sinatra style of crooner, plus the added bonus of head notes to die for, there doesn’t seem to be much that Harris can’t sing; but it’s his understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics that sets him apart and makes him an artist.

Starting with a Harry Connick Jnr song “The Recipe for Love” he gently shares with us his happy childhood in Maitland where he was a nerdy kid playing with matchbox cars, through the myriad of talent contests in RSLs, where his “shtick” was to tap dance with his mouth and where he competed on his top notes with a voice from the Bistro telling number 84 their chicken parmy was ready. We live the moments of him driving in his bright yellow Nissan Pulsar, playing Anthony Warlow tapes and slamming his foot on the accelerator when he had to hit the high notes. There are stories of his “almost” big breaks…like workshopping The Boy From Oz for months only to miss out on the gig…then get it later by default. And there are the sure successes that turned to failure. They are stories we have heard in many incarnations from many artists, but it’s the honesty and warmth that Harris attaches to them that touches his audience.

The music ranges from standards like “The Way You Look Tonight”, to Peter Allan classics like “Tenterfield Saddler” – and the lesser known but haunting “Harbour”. There are the big Broadway blockbusters like “This is the Moment” (Jekyll and Hyde) and “Bring Him Home” (Les Mis) and songs he has had a chance to sing himself in blockbuster musicals. There are also two duets and some delightful banter with the fabulous Amanda Harrison. But he grabs us most completely with the unlikeliest of songs…. The Scarecrow’s lament “If I Only Had a Brain” – and the poignant “You Walk with Me” from the failed The Full Monty. There’s immaculate accompaniment on piano and guitar from the gifted David Cameron, and even warm banter between them. It’s the kind of show that doesn’t have you screaming and stamping, but you leave the theatre, the very wonderful Chapel off Chapel, feeling lighter at heart; gliding rather than thudding, out into the wet night air. Harris doesn’t just entertain, he makes you feel good and believe, through his music, that all really will be right with the world.

Coral Drouyn

More reading

Our earlier interview with David Harris