After the release of her fourth recording, Taking a Chance on Love, Tad Hendrickson (Amazon.com) wrote that Jane Moneheit “expertly mines American standards by balancing pop's accessible sensibility and jazz's rich complexity… her exceptional technique again brings these songs to life without taking liberties with structure, melody or odd arrangements. It's her exceptional execution, tonal palette, and phrasing that gives these songs a sense of artistry.” Just a week ago, I wrote for Jazz Police, “At this point in her career, Jane Monheit’s creativity and jazz sensibilities reside not in invention but largely in interpretation, and often interpretation at a micro level where variation is spelled by nuance rather than by vigorous reconstructions.”

I can’t speak for Mr. Hendrickson but I am ready to recant after hearing a new Jane Monheit at the Dakota. With a new manager and new holiday recording for Epic (The Season), Jane seems to be happily shedding the ingénue image in favor of a jeans-and-pony-tail informality, reaching beyond subtle interpretation to full-blown, scatting twists of melody and phrasing, experimenting with new material more than pushing familiar repertoire. More than likely, some who came to Tuesday's first set to hear that old familiar cabaret starlet left disappointed or at least confused by the barely audible, seductively slow reading of “Embraceable You,” the exquisite scat of “September in the Rain,” the lilting Portuguese of a Jobim medley; the deconstructed rhythm of her theme song, “Honeysuckle Rose,” and the sudden tempo reversal of “The Waters of March.” On the other hand, those of us who have been following Monheit’s career with some impatience—recognizing the potential of those butter-smooth pipes—couldn’t be more delighted with Jane’s “coming out party,” her flight to jazz freedom, apparently more in control of her career and certainly more in charge of her own chops.

Set Two on Tuesday was a bit more relaxed, but equally personal, with a luscious rendition of a Monheit standard, Ivan Linz’ “Once I Walked in the Sun” (in Portuguese), a beautiful take on Bacharach’s “Alfie” (in a duet with pianist/arranger Michael Kanan), and a sweetly enchanting “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered.” The playlists (which overlapped about 50% over the two sets—a lot less so than at previous Dakota gigs) were nicely paced with uptempo numbers such as “Somebody Loves Me” and “Why Can’t You Behave” well placed among the silky ballads. Jane noted that several of the selections were “new” to the band, not yet on record, still in the “try-out” stage. It’s this willingness to experiment and take risks that makes a live show “live” and not just the visual companion to the latest CD. In fact she only sang one tune from the new recording, The Season, not wanting to rush the holidays this early in November, perhaps. But that one selection, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” closed out both sets, and if it seemed to be rushing the season, there was nothing rushed about Monheit’s delivery of the perfect holiday card.

One thing she has gratefully not changed is her working band. Pianist/arranger Michael Kanan seems to have a telepathic connection to Monheit, unobtrusive while creating a perfect foundation that keeps pace wherever her vocal wanderings lead. His tinkling, lightly woven solo on “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was one of the instrumental highlights of the evening, while he played as a celestial partner in the “Alfie” duet. Bassist Orlando Le Fleming often took the rhythmic lead, particularly effective in setting the pace on “Honeysuckle Rose” and the Jobim tunes, offering melodic solos on “Moonlight in Vermont” and “You’re Getting to Be a Habit With Me” (to which he also contributed the arrangement). Monheit’s husband, drummer Rick Montalbano, was typically a subtle presence who occasionally peppered his understated timekeeping with bursts of energetic pops and polyphonic clusters, and created an eccentric dialogue with guitarist Miles Okazaki on “Somebody Loves Me.” Okazaki was often a featured soloist and stellar accompanist throughout the night. Runner-up in this year’s Thelonious Monk International Jazz Guitar Competition, Okazaki alternated between acoustic and electric ax, giving the former a high profile and the latter a shimmery elegance. He teetered at the top of the fretboard on “Come Rain or Come Shine,” engaged in a sultry duet with Monheit on “Embraceable You,” and on electric co-led the Jane and Miles Show portion of “September in the Rain.”

I have heard Jane Monheit sing through at least ten sets over the past three or four years, but never with the confident, convincing invention she brought to her work this evening. And she still has a lot of fun on stage, in interacting with her supportive bandmates (“Sometimes I feel like I’m the Den Mother up here”)and joking with the audience about the chatter in the adjacent dining room. Her voice still is arguably the cleanest, smoothest, purist in pitch and tone of any of the high-profile vocalists on tour, and to her pristine instrument she now adds—-more freely--her own experiments in phrasing, rhythm and dynamics that spell J-a-z-z with a capital J. And the “Golden Girl of Jazz” –- the title bestowed two years ago by Jazz Times—- is only 28. There’s plenty of improvisation ahead.

Jane Monheit will be at the Shedd in Eugene, OR on November 28^th before starting a week residency at Jazz Alley in Seattle, November 29-December 4 ( www.jazzalley.com ). She’ll be at Town Hall in New York City on December 8^th ( www.the-townhall-nyc.org)