Voicing opinion was not the problem

Shannon Stevens

Thursday, July 22, 2004 | 8:21 a.m.

Editor's note: Since Linda Ronstadt was escorted off the Aladdin property Saturday after making comments in support of filmmaker Michael Moore during her show at the Theatre for the Performing Arts, several media reports have attempted to reconstruct her controversial performance. The Las Vegas Sun had two staff members in attendance entertainment writer Jerry Fink, who was on hand to review the show for Mondays paper, and assistant Metro editor Shannon Stevens, who is a Ronstadt fan. Following is Stevens' report on the show.

The family's Linda Ronstadt 8-track tape was a favorite when we'd pile into the Ford station wagon every June on our summer trek from Tunkhannock, Pa., to Seattle. While things could get a little testy while crossing the plains with no air conditioning a good sing-along of "You're No Good" did wonders to lift the spirits.

So I was really looking forward to seeing her live. And unlike my friend and companion for the evening, who only knew her rock 'n' roll hits, I've long enjoyed her Nelson Riddle favorites.

Opening with "What's New," therefore, would have to be a great start. Right? Wrong.

Ronstadt can no longer hold pitch. Which made her attempts at jazz classics a little tough to endure. Though I thought I was bearing up fairly well, my greatest-hits pal leaned over early in the show to ask if everything was OK. "Yes, why?"

"You look like you're in pain," he said.

Oh well. So much for putting on a good face. But determined to be a good sport, and happy I'd only paid $36 for the ticket, I perked up when Ronstadt began speaking, only to hear her tell us that when she and her crew saw the poster that claimed this was a greatest-hits show it was "news to us." My friend visibly deflated.

"No hits?"

I shrugged. Looked like pleasant banter from our singer was not on the menu either.

After she assaulted us with a couple of painful attempts at doing Cole Porter, Ronstadt spoke again, this time to introduce what she said music historians call the first rock 'n' roll song to air on the radio in 1948. The transition in music, she said, happened because Americans didn't want to hear the songs that were popular in the war because they were sick of war.

"Too bad we're not today," she said. "But it's too late. We're in it."

Just as people were beginning to react to her anti-war comments -- not surprising considering her history as an outspoken activist -- the orchestra started in on "It's Too Soon to Know." Hearing a song with a beat got her fan base excited and cheered up the crowd, with some shouting, "You sing it, girl!"

Ronstadt did seem better able to handle the more basic rock tunes, but the improved act didn't last long. "Blue Bayou" was terrible, as she ran out of breath early on and again had trouble maintaining pitch.

Finally, much to my relief, the show ended. Though I had high hopes that no encore would be performed, Ronstadt just walked to the wing and promptly returned for her final song.

That's when the fun finally began.

Ronstadt said she wanted to dedicate her last number to a great patriot, an American who stands for truth, and someone who cares about this country deeply and is trying to help, filmmaker Michael Moore.

At that, what sounded like 25 percent of the crowd erupted into loud boos, which were quickly overtaken by about half the audience cheering her and drowning out the naysayers. About 20 percent of the audience, some continuing to turn around and boo, filed out of the theater, many shaking their heads and muttering.

The family sitting in front of me, all sharing a pair of opera glasses for the entire show, commented to one another that "she shouldn't have said that," and "look, they're walking out ... we should walk out." Their resolve quickly fell away as Ronstadt launched into "Desperado," the first song of the night sung with any passion at all. And most of it was even on pitch.

Her show ended with lots of applause and cheers.

I chatted with the other concertgoers as we left. The musician in front of me said that she should have been booed for her poor performance, not for her politics. And the hippie next to me said that the booers missed the best song of the night.

"Geez! She dated Jerry Brown. What did they expect?" the hippie said, shaking his head.

As for reports that the concert posters were defaced, I didn't notice. My friend and I did look at them on the way out, commenting that the photo looked like it was from 30 years ago and hardly represented her current appearance: frumpy at best with the long black jacket not covering her weight and the Clark's-style slide shoes homely even from the nose-bleed seats.

It's a pretty sad commentary on a musician's performance that the best thing to come out of it was controversy over a song dedication.