Irish Tenor Ronan Tynan is a cabaret treat

NEW YORK, Oct. 1 (UPI) -- Ronan Tynan, one of The Irish Tenors of concert and recording fame, is launched on a cabaret career that showcases his wide-ranging repertory and brings his ebullient personality and ability as a raconteur into intimate contact with his audiences as no other type of performance is likely to do.

Tynan opened the fall season at Feinstein's at the Regency, Manhattan's top supper club, with an evening of Irish ballads and popular American songs, Broadway hit melodies, Neapolitan and Viennese classics, an occasional opera aria, and even a film anthem. This son of Kilkenny had his hearers eating out of his hand and leaping to their feet for a final ovation after he sang "Don Quixote" from Mitch Leigh's musical "Man of La Mancha" with heroic resonance.

Tynan is a tall, hefty, spectacle-wearing singer with a hearty voice that recalls the purity of the late Mario Lanza's memorably unadorned tenor. Tynan avoids the flourishes favored by many Irish barroom tenors and the throaty sobs that are the trademark of some Italian operatic tenors, preferring to let his voice sell itself without the show-off extras so often associated with male singers of his vocal range.

It is worth noting that the singer is extremely agile, performing on his feet or perched on a high stool and bouncing offstage and on to let piano accompanist William Lewis have a crack at an occasional song. You would never guess that Tynan is physically handicapped (although he doesn't mind who knows it). He had both legs amputated just below the knee at the age of 20 as the result of a lower limb disorder.

Once he was fitted with prosthetic legs, he became a Paralympic Games star, winning 18 gold medals and setting 14 world records in track and field in the course of a decade, and he is currently one of the world's top amateur equestrians. He received a medical degree from Trinity College in Dublin, but a career as a doctor was sidetracked when he took up vocal studies in his early 30s at the Royal Opera School, Manchester, making his singing debut at Dublin's National Concert Hall in 1994.

He became one of the three tenors making up The Irish Tenors in 1998, the same year his first solo album, "My Life Belongs to You," racked up platinum sales. The Irish Tenors have five albums to their credit, selling 1.5 million worldwide, and Tynan has become a regular soloist with American orchestras and in oratorio productions since moving to New York City in 1999.

His engagement at Feinstein's was his first appearance there in four years, during which he made three PBS specials with The Irish Tenors and wrote what he calls the first volume of his autobiography, titled "Halfway Home: My Life 'Til Now," published by Simon & Schuster. He recently performed for President and Mrs. George W. Bush at the White House.

Tynan opened his cabaret show with Barry Manilow's stirring "One Voice" and followed up with "Smile," one of the few pop classics that can be ascribed to Charlie Chaplin and a perfect number to display the singer's generosity of spirit. A real crowd pleaser was the unusual choice of the shamelessly romantic Oscar Award-winning song "My Heart Will Go On" from "The Titanic."

After asking his audience if they'd "come to hear some Irish," Tynan launched into "Red Haired Mary," a catchy and innocently naughty ballad, followed by a sentimental song titled "The Old Man," which he performed as a tribute to his father "who was also my best friend." This song gave him an opportunity to show how he can modulate his big voice effortlessly, floating tones as light as thistledown.

He tossed off a sprightly ditty, "Golden Jubilee," for the long-married couples in the audience, soared into a Neapolitan favorite of Enrico Caruso's, "Non Discordar di Me," and a Viennese standard, "My Heart and I," made popular by Richard Tauber, and paid tribute to Rosemary Clooney, who died last year, by singing "And I Love You So" by Don McLean, his best effort of the evening.

As an encore, Tynan sang Sarah McLaughlin's "Angel" in memory of a friend he lost in the World Trade Center terrorist attack. If there was a dry eye in the house, it wasn't because an Irish tenor hadn't turned on the spigot.