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Night out in the Parks – Project Inclusion String Quartet – Lake Shore Park – August 19, 2021

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The last time I wrote about Project Inclusion’s concert in the park was July, 2018. Things have changed, and stayed the same. That time there was a musician from Havana, this time from Venezuela. Both times there were string players from a place much less interesting, Texas.

One of them, violinist Audrey Lee, told us that she had never been to Chicago before, and, though she loved it, would soon be returning to her current home in Durant, Oklahoma, where she teaches music. I’ve never heard of Durant, and I’m sure there are several good reasons for that.

I thought I also had never heard of Southeastern Oklahoma State University, where she teaches, but it turns out that Dennis Rodman went to school there, as the Savage Storm (still known as the Savages when Rodman was there) participate in half a dozen men’s and women’s varsity sports, including, for both, rodeo (one of the 73 schools that do!), which makes me wish that the quartet had played some Copeland, rather than the so-so selections they chose.

The program listed one of the songs as The Walzing Cat. I’m pretty sure they meant The Waltzing Cat, unless the song was about a German feline that went on a road trip.

During another piece, they told us it was okay to get up and dance. No one did. During the encore pop mash-up, they said it was okay to sing along. No one did. But the weather was nice.

Meet Me on the Mile – Magnificent Mile – August 15, 2021

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This new event mostly failed to meet my very low expectations. But at least it wasn’t crazy crowded, not filled with those people who go to street fairs just so they can jostle others for no particular reason. A tribute to an underwhelming Magnificent Mile marketing machine.

I was too late for Silent Disco Yoga (though word-of-mouth was that it was well-attended and well-done), but I probably wouldn’t have qualified anyway, as participants were required to bring “good vibes.”

Much more disappointing was that the vendor selling potato donuts had already run out of Dutch chocolate ones with organic callebaut-chocolate ganache before I got there. I’ll set my alarm earlier next time.

I heard a little bit of the Chicago Bears Drumline (not bad), which was performing before a throng of 35 people seated in an ad hoc grandstand. The crowd for Tubad & the Kings of Nola was even smaller (but enthusiastic) for music I would reluctantly describe as tuba fusion.

People stood in line to get their caricatures done in lieu of wearing their “I’m a Tourist” t-shirts.

The highlight, for me, was the Motors on the Mile display, where I was able to snap the attached picture of my next car, though there was a moment of drama when the security guard almost imperceptibly twitched when I moved a little closer to the roped-in roadster.

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Classic Broadway – Grant Park Music Festival – Millennium Park – August 13, 2021

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In past years, an overflowing crowd, limited by barriers, would come on a Monday evening, so chosen, I suppose, because Broadway is generally dark on Mondays and the performers could fly in from New York in the morning, rehearse, do the show, and be back at their jobs on Tuesday, which, in some cases, who knows, might have been as singing waitstaff at Ellen’s Stardust Diner (love that place).

But, unless your name is Bruce Springsteen, your Broadway (or even off-off-Broadway) show hasn’t opened yet, so you can play the Pritzker Pavilion on Friday and Saturday night and not miss any time from work.

This also means that you can concentrate more on the Chicago performance, unless you’re still trying to memorize the menu from Ellen’s. It seemed to me that the performers, always in fine voice, were more engaged with their characters than in past years. Even the guest conductor, Lawrence Loh, pulled down his mask to chip in a few lines in one of the songs, to the great amusement of the crowd.

As readers may recall, my history of seeing (or not seeing) Betty Buckley is somewhat checkered, but Mamie Parris played Grizabella in the revival of Cats, so seeing and hearing her sing Memory last night can finally put that chapter to rest, unless Buckley breaks a dinner date with me.

Courtyard Concert – Fourth Presbyterian Church – August 13, 2021

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Saxophonist Eric Schneider had top billing, well actually the only billing, for the lunch-hour, jazz concert. But he was accompanied by the ever-present, supremely talented, but apparently not talkative, Andy Brown, on guitar, whom I also saw as a featured musician in Michael Feinstein’s recent show at Ravinia, where he didn’t speak either. (I’m waiting for his “Greta Garbo talks” in Anna Christie moment.)

Schneider did the song introductions, showing off at one point the reason why you should not have him on your Broadway trivia (or even essential information) team, as he misrepresented the song Put on a Happy Face as being from Pajama Game, rather than, as the audience members who contorted their faces at the error knew, Bye Bye Birdie.

But I hadn’t come for Schneider’s sober version of drunk jazz history, including his tidbit about the original pronunciation of Mel Torme’s last name (before he gallicized it by adding the aigu accent), but rather for the music, which was excellent.

Grant Park Music Festival – Millennium Park – August 7, 2021

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The orchestra’s rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 1 in G Minor coordinated beautifully with the gentle breeze that was blowing through the pavilion. And renowned violinist Augustin Hadelich’s presentation of Sibelius’s Concerto for Violin in D Minor was an extra special treat. So much for the music itself.

Sibelius had synesthesia, a neurological condition whereby information meant to stimulate one of your senses instead stimulates several of your senses, in his case, sound to color synesthesia.

According to the program, Sibelius experienced the tonal center for this concerto as yellow, although it didn’t sound yellow to me. I tried to envision Hadelich standing on the stage and, instead of making his 1744 Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesu purr like a cat getting its belly scratched, splashing plumbonacrite-infused yellow earth from a Northern Italy quarry on a large canvas with an animal-hair paint brush constructed by a Rembrandt apprentice. Still didn’t sound yellow to me.

If Sibelius were in outer space, and couldn’t hear the music, would he still see yellow? You might not hear the screams from the cast of Alien, but there is enough interstellar gas and dust that sound waves can move through space. We just aren’t able to listen to them because the particles are so spread out, and the resulting sound waves are of such a low frequency, that they’re beyond the capabilities of human hearing. But does that also make them beyond the capabilities of human sight, like ultraviolet light, for those with synesthesia? Should someone with synesthesia wear sunscreen, even at night, when listening to music?

I was troubled, but still able to enjoy the concert.

An Evening With Michael Feinstein and Betty Buckley – Ravinia – August 1, 2021

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The last time I was at Ravinia was August 2010. In case you don’t remember, that was before the pandemic. I saw Crosby, Stills, and Nash, or at least a video of them on a large screen on the lawn. The place was jammed. Excursions to the bathroom required detailed planning.

Last night was different. Parking was easy, as was wandering the grounds and using the facilities.

I sat in the pavilion (free tickets, so I didn’t have to mortgage my home, though parking was the price of a long weekend in the Catskills), where COVID spacing was in effect, as apparently was disinterest, based upon the number of empty seats around us.

And, as far as I know, neither Buckley nor Feinstein have their own craft cannabis brand, as Crosby does.

This was sort of a make-up game for me, having missed Buckley in Hello Dolly when she decided to take the night off the night I went to that show.

Well, fool me twice, shame on me. Buckley showed up this time, but well over halfway through the show, and then sang only two songs on her own (not including that one) and three or four forgettable duets with Feinstein (not exactly Nat King and Natalie Cole), who was otherwise wonderful (worth the price of parking), singing beautifully even though his facial muscles did seem to be stuck in one position.

Lakeview Orchestra – On the Lawn at St. Michael – July 25, 2021

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I arrived, chair in hand, five minutes before the scheduled starting time, at the hottest part of the day, and saw no one I recognized, not even the people who had invited me, among the throng of 10-15 people. I waited around for 15 minutes, entertained by the erection of a gazebo canopy for the musicians. Gazpacho and canapes for everyone would have been better.

Finally, a single guitar player took his position and was, I think, introduced by a woman whose voice carried maybe five feet, at best. Still no one there I knew, so I decided to take a walk, the obvious destination being the Dairy Queen just under a mile away, for a chocolate milk shake.

I took my time and got back 40 minutes later, just in time to see that the orchestra had grown from one to five, and was preparing to play a Mozart clarinet quintet. Attendees now numbered 40, about 10 of whom had instrument cases with them, but still no one even remotely identifiable to me.

I stayed long enough to hear the church bells provide percussion for the group at the top of the hour, though, disappointingly, not with the quintessential Westminster Quarters ditty, and then decided to head back to air conditioning, now indifferent to finding anyone or listening to any music.

Grant Park Music Festival – July 23, 2021

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The program said “Blow, Fly, Pop!!’s orchestration is unlike any other. “ That, my friends, is truth in advertising. It looked like a kids’ party (sans scary clown) gone terribly wrong, with the string section starting the piece by waving plastic pencil boards through the air.

And yet, though the sound of the gym ball being thumped didn’t have quite the gravitas of that of a bass drum, and the third balloon the percussionist popped was out of tune (perhaps suffering from an inflation problem, like the economy), the selection wasn’t terrible.

So I got over any disappointment that the piece was not, as I had wrongly anticipated from a too quick reading of the website, “Pop the Cherry” by Blowfly.

The evening moved from a selection reminiscent of minors to two classical pieces in minor keys, Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 1, and Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 (New World Symphony), which is familiar to movie fans, perhaps for its use in films like Clear and Present Danger and The Departed, but more likely for its place in Killer Tomatoes Eat France!, the fourth sequel to Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.

Broadway in your Backyard – Porchlight Music Theatre – Washington Square Park – July 18, 2021

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If you don’t count Piff the Magic Dragon, and I don’t, the last in-person, no scientist involved, theatrical event (as opposed to instrumental concert, by my definition, which is the only one that counts, as it’s my blog), I had attended before last Sunday was on February 25, 2020. I’m still waiting for the first indoor one, but not until at least the fall, and not anxiously.

In the park I’m surrounded by grass and trees and feel a gentle breeze on my back. In the Ruth Page Auditorium, where Porchlight normally performs, I’m surrounded by the walls of a 1927 building that may or may not have a ventilation system.

At the park event I sat in my own folding chair, which is far more comfortable than any seat at Ruth Page, and placed it so that I didn’t have to rub elbows with strangers exhaling in my immediate vicinity. My view was somewhat limited by overhanging tree foliage, but that’s still better than sitting behind Andre the Giant, which I always wind up doing at the theater, even though he died in 1993.

So, like the groupie I am, I’m looking forward to attending three future Backyard programs in three different parks in August. Have chair will travel.

Grant Park Music Festival – July 16, 2021

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Part of the crowd started leaving during a fine rendition of Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5. (I stayed all the way through the Finnish.) Their departure would have been understandable earlier in the evening during Brouwer’s Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, which was forgettable, hopefully.

It wasn’t raining. Three different weather services told me so. And yet, I and the other attendees were getting wet.

What I hadn’t taken into account was the definition of rain.

Rain is composed of water drops with diameters greater than 0.02 inches (.5 mm), whereas drizzle is defined as water drops with diameters less than 0.02 inches. Who knew. I didn’t have anything with me to measure the drops, in either the metric or imperial system, but they apparently didn’t rise to the necessary level to be predicted by any local or national bureaus.

So It didn’t rain. It drizzled. But I still got wet.