Ah, Paris! I travelled there as a twenty-something in the eighties on a Contiki tour. I was brimful of excitement and alcohol. While I marvelled at the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Versailles and the Louvre, I did not appreciate the overall magic of what I was experiencing. When I returned with my partner in my sixties, I was intoxicated by the sheer romance of the place.

Louise Blackwell lived in Paris for 10 years on a student visa until the Immigration Department determined that she had one degree too many and cancelled her visa. In that time, she immersed herself in the artistic scene, particularly the jazz scene.

Returning to Australia, Blackwell found that her jazz audiences lapped up the occasional French song she inserted into her performances, to the point that she eventually switched to an entirely French repertoire.

And why not? If you can’t get there, Blackwell and her French Set transport you there with a show that encompasses the Paris of Piaf, the Paris where Miles Davis walked hand in hand with his new girlfriend Juliette Gréco, and Paris in its heyday.

Lou Blackwell & the French Set. Photo Claudio Raschella

Opening with À Paris, Blackwell’s chanson material (and apologies now, as my French is insufficient to translate song titles) included Bon Public, a song about a middle-aged couple reminiscing about kissing and canoodling on public benches and drawing the ire of conservative passers-by, and The Singing Clown, in which Blackwell partnered with her bassist. Blackwell’s upper register is a touch thin (somewhere between Jane Birkin and Françoise Hardy), but the French Set is so proficient that the blend of soft vocals and jazz virtuosity creates a mesmerising whole.

Blackwell relies on the classics. One can’t really go wrong with Yves Montand’s classic La Bicyclette and C’est le paradis. I recognised The Windmills of Your Mind from its tune.

As the show progressed, the material became more familiar. Sha Sha Sha was a feisty jazz number in which the vocal harmonies from the boys in the band transported me to a Parisian jazz café in the sixties, with Serge Gainsbourg in tow. Jacques Brel’s The Devil Is Doing Fine was typical Brel cheek.

Lou Blackwell & the French Set. Photo Claudio Raschella

Tragic chanson came in the form of Barbara’s Barbara, Tell Me When Are You Coming Back?, in which a passionate affair with a diplomat is subverted when the diplomat asks a friend to check on his lover from afar, only for the friend and lover to begin an affair themselves.

Of course, there had to be some Piaf, and L’Accordéoniste was the perfect choice. The finale was a sublime version of the Serge Gainsbourg classic La Javanaise, by the end of which I could practically taste the croissant.

Blackwell surrounds herself with the cream of Adelaide musicians, including musical director Mark Simeon Ferguson (Head of Jazz at the Elder Conservatorium) and Julian Ferraretto on violin, among others. The audience had a ball, and the ambience was très chic.

The Adelaide Cabaret Festival continues until 21 June.