“Laura Freeman’s Luna Tart Died of a Broken Heart is a simultaneous composition of magnificence and desperation” – Austin Chronicle
“A beautiful jazz voice and a perfect sense of timing to balance comedy and poignancy” – Austin 360.com
“Her singing is astounding. But there are plenty of gorgeous voices in this town. What sets Laura and her show apart is a wild imagination and an ability to get the audience inside her head” – Austinist
Luna doesn’t just ape the cabaret kittens of old, she remolds them into a beautiful (and frequently hilarious) homage. Ms. Tart is everything we’d expect to find in a good (and sleazy) cabaret… If cosmos has any justice there’s another reality where Luna Tart really lived and these songs are American standards – http://www.sepiachord.com
Sally Bowles and Lotte Lenya’s long-lost love child – Austin Chronicle
“Freeman’s performance is nothing less than jaw-dropping perfect timing, keen humor and seemingly infinite vocal inflections to reflect her character’s myriad mood swings and personality disorders” – Dirty Linen
She pens charming cabaret-jazz songs and warps them in a delightful vintage sleeve. – http://www.lunakafe.com
Luna Tart at Joe’s Pub, NYC, May 18, 2009
Pathos. Fragility. Drama. The absurd.
… Sung by the kind of slightly aging woman you’d pity, drunk, at the end of the bar.
Draped in a bright yellow boa, paired absurdly with a ukulele – this broad’s got a sardonic sense and a surprisingly beautiful voice. She’s so damn depressing, it’s funny – like when you cry so hard you start laughing, or vice versa.
Luna Tart – a Bernadette Peters look-a-like – with an equally on-target sense of timing, is the alter ego of Laura Freeman, who wobbled on stage at Joe’s Pub tonight, in a semi-drunken stupor. Deceptively faltering, yet always in charge of her phrasing, Luna left me hanging on every word. Whether quivering her poetic lyrics, or singing in shockingly high full voice, she imbued her story-songs with heartbreak and longing. Luna’s “I’ve Forgotten You,” an imagistic piece sung by a woman struggling to remember even a fragment of her lost love, was simply devastating. When she eeked out the final question “Did we dance … did we … dance?”… In the silence that followed, I felt a tangible unity with the rest of the audience – a kind of group mourning, a shared sensibility of personal loss and grief.
For some odd reason, I kept imagining a TV show where Luna gets into all kinds of hopeful, sad and bizarre romantic situations, punctuated by the songs on her “Luna Tart died” CD … the plotlines are all there: Luna remembers her sad childhood as her mother sings a lullaby, Luna gets jilted, joins the circus, becomes a prostitute, lives the highlife, gets jilted, gets jilted, gets jilted … time and time again … as she reflects on it all from a barstool in a dark and seedy joint.
I advise you to check out Luna out at her next gig. If you’re a TV producer, at least give her a screen test for a pilot. Whoever you are, while sitting, listening in the dark – you won’t feel alone in your anguish – and you’ll probably find the strength to laugh at your relative good fortune. – Judith Z. Miller