Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe: Michael Feinstein in Los Angeles: Liza Minnelli, Luigi’s Jazz Studio, and the Art of the American Songbook

The photograph from the Tapper Plaza catches Michael Feinstein mid-evening in Los Angeles — leaning into warm light, smiling the smile of a man exactly where he belongs. Around him swirl the connections of a lifetime in show business: Liza Minnelli’s book, which he lovingly helped curate. Her brother Joey, with whom Thanksgivings have been celebrated. Margaret O’Brien, ever the bearer of updates from that glittering circle.

And behind it all, Luigi — of Luigi’s Jazz Dance Studio on West 68th Street, where Liza once brought the prince to dance alongside Christine Baranski, Ben Vereen of Pippin fame, and Bebe Neuwirth, under the direction of Luigi and Francis Roach. “Never Stop Moving,” Luigi always said. Few took it more to heart than Feinstein.

From archivist to ambassador

Feinstein’s path to cultural eminence didn’t start with spotlight. It started with devotion — and with Ira Gershwin. As the legendary lyricist’s archivist and assistant in his early years, Feinstein immersed himself in a world where songs were treated as artifacts deserving reverence. He absorbed composition, lyric intention, and the discipline of preservation. Those lessons never left.

As a performer, his instrument is precision: a voice shaped with care, phrasing attentive to each song’s architecture, interpretations that illuminate rather than reinvent. Concert halls, intimate cabarets, grand ballrooms — each becomes, in his hands, a guided tour through the Great American Songbook, a repertoire he approaches with genuine reverence.

The keeper of the flame

His archival work may be his most lasting contribution. Feinstein has spent decades collecting, preserving, and championing rare musical materials that might otherwise have vanished — positioning himself as a bridge between eras. His recordings document and interpret at once, each album adding to a narrative of continuity in a culture addicted to novelty.

Through educational initiatives and collaborations, he keeps pressing the Songbook into younger hands, insisting that preservation is active, not passive. Younger performers discovering the standards today are walking a path he helped keep clear.

There is, as ever, the hope for more Liza projects — and the dream of her return to the New York stages she always loved. Whatever comes, Feinstein’s career already stands as proof of a quieter thesis: that longevity belongs to dedication, relevance to authenticity, and that the past, properly tended, keeps informing the present.

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Originally published on Times Square Chronicles.