Pat Metheny, Orchestrion (Nonesuch). The most influential jazz guitarist of his generation hooks up a roomful of solenoid-controlled acoustic musical instruments to his electric guitar, turns them into the world’s biggest one-man band, and causes them to play an albumful of ear-ticklingly lovely original compositions. Go here to see Metheny talk about the technology behind this fascinating project–but by all means listen first (TT).

La Cage aux Folles (Longacre, 220 W. 48). The Jerry Herman-Harvey Fierstein musical-comedy version of the 1978 film is still as tawdry and tinselly as ever, but this small-scale revival, which stars Kelsey Grammer and Douglas Hodge, is so unfancy and heartfelt that it miraculously contrives to turn a show I’ve never liked into one that touched me to the heart. As of now, La Cage is the show to see if you’re looking for a Big Broadway Tourist Trap that’s worth the price of the ticket (TT).

James Shapiro, Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare? (Simon & Schuster, $25). This crisp study of the history of what is euphemistically known in literary circles as “the authorship question” is, or should be, the last word on a bizarre notion that somehow managed to sway such heavy hitters as Mark Twain, Henry James, and Sigmund Freud. If you really, truly think that somebody else wrote Shakespeare’s plays, you probably won’t be persuaded by Shapiro’s closing chapter, a brilliantly pithy summary of the unanswerable evidence that he really, truly did. Otherwise, Contested Will is essential reading for anyone who cares to know how silly smart people can be (TT).

Richard Stark, The Black Ice Score/The Green Eagle Score/The Sour Lemon Score (University of Chicago, $14 each). Volumes ten through twelve in the University of Chicago Press’ uniform paperback edition of the complete Parker novels of the late, lamented Donald E. Westlake, each with a preface by Dennis Lehane. If you haven’t gotten the message yet, get it now: Parker is the ultimate anti-hero, and these lean, stone-hard novels are as good as noir fiction gets (TT).

The Glass Menagerie (Roundabout/Laura Pels, 111 W. 46th St., extended through June 13). Gordon Edelstein’s production of Tennessee Williams’ masterpiece is a recreative landmark, perfectly cast and imaginatively staged, that will make you feel as though you’re seeing The Glass Menagerie for the first time. Every line, every pause, every gesture is as fresh as a shaft of sunlight. It joins David Cromer’s Our Town on the short list of New York’s must-see shows (TT).

Dollison and Marsh, Vertical Voices: The Music of Maria Schneider (ArtistShare). Julia Dollison has joined forces with her husband, the singer-arranger Kerry Marsh, to create an album of Maria Schneider’s compositions for big band in which all of the original horn parts are sung, not played. (Schneider’s own rhythm section provides instrumental support.) More than just a technical tour de force, this CD is a miracle of kaleidoscopically varied vocal color that provides an arresting new perspective on Schneider’s musical genius. If you’ve heard Observatory, Dollison’s 2005 debut CD, you won’t need to be told twice to get Vertical Voices. If not, get them both (TT).

Charles Addams, The Addams Family: An Evilution (Pomergranate, $39.95). All of the 200-plus surviving cartoons–many of them previously unpublished–featuring the members of the decidedly creepy family that “graced” the pages of The New Yorker for a half-century. If you only know the Addams family through its various incarnations on TV and in film, you’re missing most of the point of the output of one of the most gifted and original cartoonists of the twentieth century (TT).

L’Etoile (New York City Opera, Lincoln Center, Apr. 1 and 3). Constant Lambert called Emmanuel Chabrier “the first important composer since Mozart to show that seriousness is not the same as solemnity, that profundity is not dependent upon length, that wit is not always the same as buffoonery, and that frivolity and beauty are not necessarily enemies.” Curious? Then check out Mark Lamos’ 2002 staging of Chabrier’s near-surreal, divinely silly operetta, newly revived by the New York City Opera. It’s the aesthetic equivalent of a chilled split of Dom Perignon (TT).