The New York Times

Re-Imagining the Awe That Is Stevie Wonder's
by Stephen Holden

For a fastidious theater singer like Darius de Haas to take on the music of Stevie Wonder is a little like a gymnastics champion deciding to enter a weight-lifting competition. One sport is synonymous with grace and symmetry, the other with brute strength. Throughout his career Mr. Wonder has aspired to carry the whole world on his shoulders. Until he created his tribute, "Wonder: Songs of Stevie Wonder," for Lincoln Center's American Songbook, Mr. de Haas had seemed happy to balance a few choice territories on one hand while executing double somersaults. So who knew that Mr. de Haas harbored an earthy vocal forcefulness to match his agility?

As he performed 19 Wonder songs from the 1970's and early 80's at the Allen Room of Frederick P. Rose Hall on Friday evening, Mr. de Haas elicited the same sense of awe produced by Mr. Wonder's best records. The earth opened up and released a torrent. The seasons flashed by; passions flared and died; new life took root.

If Mr. de Haas's voice is noticeably higher and lighter than Mr. Wonder's, his connection to the music's spiritual and emotional sources is just as deep. Both singers are childlike nature boys. Both are musical impressionists in whose pantheistic visions voluminous tears and laughter flow from the same fountain. Buoying Mr. de Haas was an excellent pop-soul ensemble consisting of the keyboardist Darryl Waters, Kenny Brescia on guitar, George Farmer on bass, J. T. Lewis on drums, and Ronnell Bey and Nicki Richards singing backup.

Several of the composer's signature songs were completely re-imagined. "Isn't She Lovely" was transformed from a driving cry of joy at the moment of a baby's birth into a sweet lyrical ode. "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" was slowed and deepened with exquisite gospel filigree. Omitting only Mr. Wonder's protest songs, Mr. de Haas covered the rest of the territory. It ran from "Master Blaster (Jammin')," Mr. Wonder's spiky reggae tribute to Bob Marley, to a medley of "Superwoman (Where Were You When I Needed You)" and "Summer Soft," performed with such passion that the clichés about the seasons became a sweeping, sorrowful reflection on change itself.