I am a Camera – Porchlight Music Theatre – Feb. 9, 2023

In 1951 Walter Kerr famously reviewed I am a Camera with three words – Me no Leica. So perhaps it’s no wonder that the show has never been revived on Broadway.

Having recently seen Porchlight’s still-running, fabulous production of Cabaret, the classic musical that sprang from Camera, I was curious to view the original play (which is, of course, why it was presented as part of the Porchlight Revisits series at this time and despite the fact that it’s not itself a musical). As the guy sitting next to me said, how did they have the vision to turn this play into Cabaret?

The legendary Julie Harris won her first of five Tonys for her depiction of Sally Bowles in Camera. She must have delivered a supernatural performance to convince the voters to care even a little bit about the character. I sure didn’t. Fortunately, the Isherwood self-portrait, which is the centerpiece, picks up some of the slack, and the acting all around was excellent.

Still, I kept wondering whether the unseen interactions between the secondary characters of Fritz and Natalia might not have been more interesting to watch than was the banal relationship between Sally and her mother, which seemed rather beside the point of the second act.

Trio Gaia – Dame Myra Hess Concert – February 8, 2023

This is the first Dame Myra Hess Concert I‘ve attended since Classical Music Chicago (CMC) switched venues three years ago, from the Chicago Cultural Center to the Seventeenth Church of Christ, Scientist, which I previously had walked past more times than there are stars in the sky, but had always been hesitant to enter, for fear that I would be struck down by lightning.

The sky’s were clear today so I took a chance. I was a little late, so I had to take the elevator, instead of the stairs, up to the back of the auditorium, lest the presumptuously-named, but nevertheless talented, Trio Gaia (the mother of all life if you’ve forgotten your Edith Hamilton) become the Quartet Cacophony by my inadvertent addition.

The concerts at the Cultural Center were always packed. This one was not. According to the Church’s website, the auditorium seats 800 and “semi-circle seating enables audience to see and hear one another.”  Fortunately no one was testing the auditory part of that statement, but I was pleased to be able to see everyone, as it allowed me to count the nicely spread-out crowd at 165 while enjoying the Beethoven.

Cabaret – Porchlight Music Theatre – January 20, 2023

What good is sitting alone in your room when you could be at Porchlight’s terrific production of Cabaret?  It’s well worth the money, money, money that makes the world go around.  

Come hear the music play. The band is great. Your table’s waiting, if you sit in the front row.  They’ll be happy to see you and you’ll be happy to see the extremely talented cast, assembled and directed by Michael Weber, and aided by some wild, wonderful, wanton, choreography provided by Brenda Didier to demonstrate the dance of the decadent, dysfunctional, divisive decade depicted.

I particularly want to highlight Josh Walker as the Emcee and Erica Stephan as Sally Bowles, iconic roles that these two performers give great justice to, just as justice is not given to the lives of the characters around them.

I’d never seen Walker perform before and thought I hadn’t seen Stephan either until I realized I saw her recently as Miss Scarlett in Clue, a quite different type of femme fatale. That show could have used the ovation-inducing singing and dancing she displays at the Kit Kat Club. 

Friday Noon Concert – Fourth Presbyterian Church – January 6, 2023

When you can’t tell the difference between the musician warming up and the performance itself, you know you’re in trouble. Imagine watching NBA players taking three steps, without dribbling, before dunking. Surely you wouldn’t confuse that practice routine with game action, when they take four steps, without dribbling, before dunking.

Anyway, I didn’t stay for the whole concert, but still appreciated the fact that I can cross two more composers off my imaginary list. I’m sure the cellist played Amy Heo’s When It Falls in the manner in which it was intended, but to me it sounded like a really bad version of the signals we might send to dissuade an unfriendly group of aliens attempting to land at Devils Tower National Monument.

As for Amy Wurtz’s Songs and Dances, I’m thinking about suing, based on false advertising, for the emotional distress caused me by hearing music that could not possibly be the foundation for any terpsichorean movement I’ve ever seen. The second part, entitled Spitfire, was anything but. Perhaps I was oblivious to an ironical message, but ran for the door anyway, which was perhaps unfortunate, as my later research revealed that the two closing selections I missed, by other composers, I might have enjoyed. They shouldn’t have buried the lede, just the opening music.

My AARP Culture Tour – December 10-18, 2022

It had been four years since I’d seen the Joffrey Ballet’s much-heralded production of The Nutcracker, so I decided to go for a double dose of Tchaikovsky, through the good graces of the retiree’s best friend, AARP, though online, not in person.

First I watched The Royal Ballet’s very traditional version. Everyone was extremely talented, ho-hum. Then I watched The Hip Hop Nutcracker. OMG. So much more fun. And while I acknowledge the fact that the ballet dancers showed off an impressive variety of leaps and jumps (or whatever they’re called in French), the “contemporary dance spectacle” was, well, spectacular (though I could have lived without the mercifully short DJ scratching at the beginning and end of the program).

I remember being in New York years ago, and coming upon a group of break dancers on one of the corners leading into Central Park. I was mesmerized by their athleticism. And they were “just” street performers, ad libbing for spare change (now everyone on the street takes Venmo). The members of the Hip Hop Nutcracker troupe showed off not just their gymnastic abilities, but also their dance moves, and acting, including comedic, chops.

Speaking of which, I also need to mention the AARP online presentation a week earlier of Jane Austen’s Emma: The Musical. I’ve never read the book (or any of Austen’s others), but I have seen the movie Clueless (sort of like Forbidden Planet in lieu of The Tempest). Anyway, the play was quite entertaining, featuring a charming score and a couple of dynamite leading ladies.

If any of this sounds interesting, register to watch Swan Lake at the Bolshoi on February 5.

End of Year Letter to Family, Friends, and Other Disinterested Persons

It’s been another memorable year, if only because I can remember it.

There’s still no one claiming to be a long-lost child of mine, so that’s a blessing again, although it would be nice to have someone who would come over and throw out my junk mail, so that I don’t have to put on pants.

My pet snail, Nehemiah, escaped from the terrarium after I accidentally tipped it over while exercising to a Choy Li Fut video. That was about six months ago, which probably isn’t enough time for he/she/it to have made it out the door, but, just in case, I’ve established accounts on Facebook, WhatsApp, Instagram, WeChat, TikTok, Snapchat, Pinterest, and Reddit in order to put out an all-points bulletin. Recent algorithm changes have apparently caused me to be shadow banned on 17 other social media sites.

I haven’t travelled since the accident, not out of concern for Nehemiah’s whereabouts, but rather out of fear of getting hit by falling space debris. Nevertheless, I plan to renew my passport, not in anticipation of an overseas trip, but, rather, in case there’s another Civil War and I need ID to cross the street for groceries or ammunition.

Not to brag, but I fixed something last month.

Rudy, my third cousin, twice removed, the one who, you may remember, misplaced his car keys three years ago, recently became the last person in North America to order from Amazon for the first time, which, the family decided, was a good excuse for a party. Unfortunately, Rudy couldn’t attend, as he still hasn’t found his keys.

Patsy, my double half-first-cousin, finally got her GED, after being let go by Twitter, so, with Rudy not in attendance, we instead feted her at the party, ironically ordering all the gifts from Amazon.

We welcomed a new addition to the extended family this year, as the as-yet-unnamed ward (name reveal forthcoming on her 13th birthday) of the sister-in-law of my ex-boss’s special friend Alfie, brought home a small, multi-legged, stray animal that appeared to be some type of feline, though it didn’t match any pictures in the cat encyclopedia we found online. Based on the vacant stare in the animal’s eyes, the unnamed one named the creature Rudy.

Finally, and most importantly, . . . wait, I see Nehemiah trying to slide under the door. I have to go. Happy New Year.

The Apple Tree – Porchlight Revisits – Porchlight Music Theatre – December 8, 2022

The Apple Tree, as the title suggests, starts in the Garden of Eden, so I’ll bite into that scene first. It’s too long. Mel Brooks did the whole History of the World, Part I, in 92 minutes.

The production started well, but bogged down under the weight of too many apples. They should have cherry-picked the best parts to get to the core of the story quicker.

My two principle takeaways from the garden were, first, that newcomer Ciarra Stroud, as Eve, is someone to watch in the future, and, second, I want to read Mark Twain’s The Diaries of Adam and Eve, upon which it’s based, because, as great as the authors Jerry Bock, Sheldon Harnick, and Jerome Coopersmith have shown themselves to be in other shows, they don’t have a Prize for American Humor named after them.

I’ll pause here, as did the show for intermission, to mention that Mike Nichols not only directed The Apple Tree on Broadway, but, two years later, also directed Plaza Suite, another show featuring three distinct scenes with different characters played by the same actors (though not in this production), for which he won the Tony Award for Best Direction. That’s quite a niche.

I would have loved to have seen Barbara Harris’s Tony Award-winning performance in The Apple Tree in its entirety, but, in particular, I wonder how she attacked the second scene, The Lady or the Tiger. In this production, I thought the part of Princess Barbara might have been more effective played more light-heartedly. Monte Hall always had a good time when the contestants had to choose a door on Let’s Make a Deal, though I admit their lives weren’t at stake.

The finale, Passionella, made me think of Avenue Q, though not until I realized that I carry a photograph of the actress, Leah Morrow, with me next to some random puppets, on my phone, as evidence of when I saw her as Kate Monster in 2014. Do I think of her as a monster talent? I don’t know, but once again her wonderful comic chops were brought to bear, a joy to watch.

Rent – Porchlight Music Theatre – November 3, 2022

I love the musical Something Rotten. So what does that have to do with Rent? The following are some lyrics from SR’s “It’s a Musical.”

“Some musicals have no talking at all
. . . .
All of the dialogue is sung
. . . .
You just sit there asking yourself
“Why aren’t they talking?”
. . . .
And people actually like this?
No, they love it . . . .”

I’m not one of those people. I’ll save a long explanation of why for another time, after I’ve had time to construct one. For now, it is what it is.

So, when one of the characters in Rent spoke/sang “it’s over” early in the second act, I momentarily got excited, until I realized the line wasn’t directed to me, and I had to sit through another three or four false endings.

That said, if I were on the Jefferson Awards committee, my report would contain numerous nominations, with excellent stage performances and behind the scenes work all around.

To mention only a few, the band rocked throughout, Lucy Godinez, as Maureen, brought the house down with a diva dive into her big solo, and Josh Pablo Szabo, as Angel, captured the audience upon first entrance.

I might have been less anxious for a swifter conclusion if the show had not been up against the fifth game of the World Series, though, to be fair, those broadcasts could use less, not more, talking.

Clue – Mercury Theater – October 29, 2022

Not exactly Agatha Christie. While there were some giggles, the highlight of the first two-thirds of Clue was the guy behind me explaining the intricacies of his Halloween couch potato costume.

Part of the problem was that I didn’t particularly care for the characters (with no offense to the actors, whom I’ve seen do good work elsewhere). The suspects displayed fewer dimensions than their cardboard, board game avatars.

It occurred to me that it would have been more interesting if the dramatis personae had been the survivors of the S.S. Minnow. In fact, Episode 16 of Season 2 of Gilligan’s Island, entitled Not Guilty, wherein the setup suggests that one of the castaways is a killer, was a better whodunnit.

That said, the last half hour or so of Clue provided some real entertainment, beginning with Chicago favorite Mark David Kaplan, as the butler, being cut loose to deliver a rapid, over-the-top summary of the prior action on a par with Nathan Lane’s rendition of Betrayed as his jail cell synopsis of the story in The Producers. They probably have to replace the scenery after every performance once Kaplan gets done chewing it with exquisite aplomb.

Clyde’s – Goodman Theatre – October 1, 2022

I didn’t think to count, but, according to the program, there were 21 sandwiches in this play, set in the kitchen of a truck stop eatery.

The last play I saw with this much food on stage was Sweeney Todd. That time the food wasn’t actually what it was alleged to be in the show (I hope).

Similarly, I doubt that all the ingredients suggested in Clyde’s were as stated, but, this time, I suspect, for convenience and budgetary sakes, not to avoid criminal prosecution.

But that doesn’t mean that the Goodman is cutting corners, as evidenced by the quote in the program from the props supervisor, who had to decide things like, “how many pickles do I need.”

If she messes up and there are too many leftovers, do they take it out of her pay? And I wonder how much food they went through in rehearsals. Did the actors ask to redo scenes so that they could eat more?

Speaking of the cast, their fine performances were highlighted by the fact that no one said their lines with their mouth full, which was particularly important in a performance without captioning.