‘Six Guitars’ is a musical odyssey that marries comedy with musical chops
WEST BLOOMFIELD, Mich.– In his one-man play/concert/standup comedy act, Six Guitars, Chase Padgett brings together the character-sketch skills of a Lily Tomlin with the musical chops of a Jimi Hendrix, which is a lot better than a show that combines the comic acting of Jimi Hendrix with the musicianship of Lily Tomlin.
Playing one guitar expertly in six different styles: blues, classical, country, folk, rock and jazz, Padgett portrays with a similar degree of mastery a half-dozen musicians who play in those genres—from a 20-year-old heavy metal shredder who lives with his mom to an 87-year-old bluesman-philosopher from the Mississippi Delta. All, Padgett says, are based on musicians he has met.
After each one introduces himself and demonstrates his particular type of music, you never know which one will show up. Padgett’s classical guitarist from Spain gives way seamlessly to his soft-spoken, condescending jazz purist who fades out as his drippingly sweet folkie fades in and then metamorphoses into his swaggering good ol’ boy country picker, and so on.
Padgett loves them, flaws and all. You will, too.
There is so much to like here. Padgettt’s character portrayals are reminiscent of the earlier work of performers like Whoopi Goldberg and Billy Crystal (and Tomlin) who refined their acting technique by playing widely differing people in a single show.
Musically, he’s got them all beat. Padgett supplies a gorgeous arrangement of “My Funny Valentine” by the jazzbo, a poignant “You Are My Sunshine” by the folksinger, an original country song that could stand alone as a gem of the genre and, as the radio station jingles used to say, much more music.
Padgett is also quick on his feet, interacting with the crowd and improvising a song based on a chat with an audience member or two. Like all capable musicians, Padgett is very good at listening.
Beyond entertainment, Six Guitars has a point to make: Virtuosity has its virtues, but simplicity has its pleasures, too. Padgett’s jazz guitarist shows off a variety of C chords and praises the changes in coloration they provide. His country guitarist says it’s not so complicated; “If your G-chord has a number after it, you’re an asshole.”
In the end, each guitar-playing character, musically partisan as he may be, admits to admiring other sorts of music. And if they can appreciate and respect one another…