I was an uninspired and uninspiring classical piano and singing student at the Adelaide Conservatorium when I found myself in the front row of the newly built Adelaide Festival Theatre: Don Dunstan was in power and believed in Funding for the Arts.

Stephane Grapelli was the headliner but I was there to hear Blossom Dearie: known to me from listening to the lamented 'Music to Midnight' on the ABC when cramming for Matriculation.

Among my earliest jazz record purchases was 'Blossom Dearie sings' an album of originals: delightfully witty songs which seemed like an extension of her intimate style of singing.

It may seem like a gentile version of heaven but from the moment she walked onto the stage (carrying her handbag), I was captivated: A middle aged woman sitting naturally at the piano using a voice that, without a microphone, wouldn't carry further than the second row.

Why is this heavenly? She used her harmonic knowledge and pianistic skills to accompany herself and proceeded to captivate the huge theatre and make each song a work of art. Whether it was a Rogers and Hart show tune or one of her poignant or funny tunes, or Dave Frishburg's 'My Attorney Bernie' or 'The Pro Musica Antiqua' it was obvious to all that her 'less is more' delivery was superb.

I have seen her since then in concert but never as wonderful as this night. It's a cliché but on seeing her I thought: 'That'sjust what I want to do for the rest of my life'.

I understood that by using my naturally pure but not overly powerful voice I could communicate my love for subtle and well written songs by the often overlooked method of letting the song sing itself. There are many technically brilliant and creative singers who obscure the songs by letting technique get in the way.

To have a sense of humour as well is something that shines through when she sings Frishburg's 'Peel me grape'.

When Diana Krall ( a musician I much admire) sings this song, I don't get the impression she is having a laugh at the mock sexiness inherent in the song.

Blossom's heavenly lessons for holding the audience in the palm of her tiny hand:

Don't take yourself too seriously.
Use beautiful diction and a sweet voice.
Have a delicate approach to accompaniment.
Have a charming personality and a wit to match.

Honourable mentions:

Shirley Horn trio at Ronnie Scotts in London (1981)
Jeffrey Bernard sitting at my pianobar, drinking vodka, smoking Capstans and making requests at The Bourbon and Beefsteak, King Cross, Sydney (1992)
Elisabeth Welch (a singer who knew Cole Porter in Paris in the 30s) at TheFootbridge Theatre, Sydney (1993)