It seems silly to claim that Stevie Wonder is insufficiently appreciated: he’s one of the most celebrated artists of the last 60 years, and his songs are constantly performed by singers, both in and outside of the soul music genre, and played all the time by jazz musicians.  Yet somehow he never gets the kind of attention that results in formal songbook shows or albums, which his music richly deserves.

For instance: I couldn’t miss that 92NY’s Lyrics & Lyricists celebration of Mr. Wonder, “In the Key of Life: The Genius of Stevie Wonder” left out my two favorites of his songs, “My Cherie Amour” (1969) and “Overjoyed” (1985). Yet I could hardly complain, because I have heard the latter played at least four or five times in jazz clubs this year alone — as well as by pianist Vijay Iver at the 92NY just a few months ago.  

Then, too, Darius de Haas, the veteran pop and Broadway singer-actor, who produced and stars in “Key of Life,” obviously excluded those songs because he chose to concentrate on Mr. Wonder’s work from the 1970s, which he apparently views as the artist’s pinnacle decade — and few would give him an argument.

The format was different from the customary Lyrics & Lyricists set-up, in which there’s a producer-host — often a non-singing one, Deborah Grace Winer held that chair for the longest, setting the standard for all who follow, and a rotating cast of usually Broadway-centric singers.

The format this time was more like a pop concert but with copious narration in terms of putting Mr. Wonder’s music in social and biographical context. Mr. de Haas was the center of the action throughout and was on stage for practically the whole of the 100-minute running time. The other four singers were Richard Baskin, Jr., Helen White, J. Hoard, and Kola Rai, and they were present for nearly the whole of the single-act  show as well, functioning mostly as back-up singers but also getting occasional solos.

Early in the show, Mr. de Haas and company set the tone for the program with the upbeat “Sir Duke.”  Famously, Mr. Wonder celebrated Duke Ellington not by recreating the Ellington sound but by creating an homage to Duke in his own soul idiom. 

Conversely, we’ve grown accustomed to singers reinterpreting Mr. Wonder’s songs by shifting them slightly into different but related musical genres, like Kurt Elling’s modern jazz recasting of “Golden Lady,” Mel Torme rendering “All In Love Is Fair” as a traditional torch song, or Frank Sinatra’s big-band swing arrangement of “You Are the Sunshine of My Life.”  Here, pianist and music director Henry Hey worked out new interpretations of classic soul songs but also kept them firmly in the soul idiom.

Mr. de Haas, whom a lot of folks know primarily for supplying the singing voice of the Shy Baldwin character on “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel,” concentrated mostly on Mr. Wonder’s upbeat party songs, starting with a brief nod to Mr. Wonder’s first hit, the 1963 “Fingertips,” and then directly into “Up Tight (Everything’s Alright)” and from there into “Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours” and then “Sir Duke.”  There were also some of Mr. Wonder’s more socially conscious anthems, like “Pastime Paradise” — thankfully they used the original version as a starting point, not the “Gangsta” hip-hop remake.

While the dance numbers predominated, by far the most moving part of the show was a segment in which all five members of the cast performed one of Mr. Wonder’s signature ballads in the most intimate way possible.  Mr. de Haas launched the sequence with “You Are the Sunshine of My Life,” accompanied only by Mr. Hey on very spare acoustic piano, followed by Mr. Baskin crooning “Too Shy To Say” with only electric guitar chords behind him.

Mr. Hoard, who has been consistently impressive at recent shows at Dizzy’s Club Coca Cola and just last Sunday at Birdland with Bryan Carter, then gave us “Knocks Me Off My Feet.”  Ms. Rai followed with the heartbreaking “Lately,” and Ms. White concluded the set-within-the-set with “All In Love is Fair.”  

The segment worked because Mr. de Haas and Mr. Hey — along with director Kenneth L. Roberson — had the wisdom to trust the material: they didn’t try to rush the tempos or cram the songs into a medley, they performed them all at full length. It succeeded not least because it held to the premise of reinterpreting the music within the soul idiom — yet in a way that was more direct and personal than anything you’d ever hear on a Motown record.

Mr. Wonder’s songs compare with any of the best of the last 50 years — comparable with anyone from Joni Mitchell to Bob Dylan to Bob Marley to Dolly Parton to Dave Frishberg — not least because his uptempo numbers, like “Living for The City,” also have a kind of interior morality; they make you feel like it’s okay to party without having to feel guilty about it. Like the song says, these clothes may be old, but they’re never dirty.