Duke Ellington’s Sophisticated Ladies – Porchlight Music Theatre – January 31, 2020

Edward Moore “Ted’ Kennedy, known for his oratorical skills, served in Washington D.C. as a United States Senator for 47 years. Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington, known for his eloquence and charisma, was born in Washington, D.C. and led a jazz orchestra for 51 years.

Sophisticated Ladies is a musical revue based on Ellington’s music that ran for 767 performances on Broadway (1981 – 1983). As far as I know, there never has been a musical about Kennedy’s politics, but there was a 2018 movie, Chappaquiddick, about a rather infamous event in his life.

Sophisticated Ladies is not quite a concert, there being a whisper of a couple plot lines that don’t mean a thing, but it’s all about the music, cause it’s got that swing, accompanied by great singing and dancing, including a lot of tap. I have often expressed my love for tap dancing, but seeing this show inspired me to find an informative entry online from the Library of Congress entitled Tap Dance in America: A Short History.

Lorenzo Rush, Jr., who, when I first saw him a show, wasn’t misbehavin’, kind of is in Ladies, but you still love him, as he struts around the stage, capturing you with his playfulness and powerful voice, expressing all the emotion behind Ellington’s music, even though musical director Jermaine Hill, stationed at the piano and conducting the onstage band, is the physical embodiment of Ellington in the show.

The band and all the singers are excellent, but it’s the dancing that raises the temperature in the room, with kicks, splits, and leaps, and smack talking between the tappers that adds a layer of syncopation to the already animated beat of the music.

Sophisticated is defined as “having, revealing, or proceeding from a great deal of worldly experience and knowledge of fashion and culture”. In a nutshell, not me, but I sure enjoyed the show.

Jake’s Women – Oil Lamp Theater – January 26, 2020

Having never before heard of Neil Simon’s play Jake’s Women, I wasn’t expecting the Odd Couple, and didn’t get it, but did get the odd octet, as Jake struggles with his relationships with seven women, two of whom are actually the same woman, his daughter, at different ages.

But enough about the play, which there’s no particular reason to see, although the acting is solid and there’s one great comedic moment when (spoiler alert) Jake goes to the bathroom, leaving his sister and psychiatrist (with whom he has the most engaging interaction throughout the play) alone in his living room, leading to an obvious, but nonetheless hysterical scene where the two women can’t speak or do anything else until he returns, because Jake has brought them to his apartment only in his mind, where he creates all their dialogue.

Simon provided some other laughs, but the funniest moments actually were provided by Keith Gerth, the Executive and Artistic Director of the theater, during his introduction of the show and his tour de force as ticket taker extraordinaire (he seemed to know everyone except me).

Seeing the theater itself was my prime reason for seeing the show. It’s very small, seating only 60 in an oddly narrow room with a small stage that must narrow the range of plays they might present, though it was perfect for this one as all the action takes place in Jake’s living room.

Next time, however, I’ll know to sit in an odd numbered row (actually odd lettered, if that’s a thing), as visibility is better in those seats.

The experience starts as a doorman does his door job and welcomes you into a cozy waiting area where cups are provided for those who have taken advantage of the theater’s BYOB policy, which, again, was almost everyone but me.

Most importantly though, and the lure to go back, are the free chocolate chip cookies and M&Ms that are laid out on the bar.

Chicago Cellar Boys – Winter’s Jazz Club – January 25, 2020

How could little Red Ridin’ Hood have been so very good and still keep the wolf from the door? It’s a question we’ve all pondered, but who knew there was a song about it written in 1926? Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs – maybe. The Chicago Cellar Boys – definitely.

This is my second time seeing the Boys.  I loved their whole set, but their revelation about that “modern child” “runnin’ wild” was one of my favorites, among a set list that included songs from the 1920s and 30s written by Fats Waller, Jelly Roll Morton, George Gershwin, and others.

My other favorite was Waller’s Truckin’, covered in 1973 as Everybody’s Doin’ It by Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen (Truckin’ by The Grateful Dead is a whole different song), though it made me wish I could have seen Ina Rae Hutton and Her Melodears perform it live, even though Ina’s dancing was more tap than truckin’ (about which I’m not complaining), which, of course, led me to a short clip of a jazz dance instructor demonstrating truckin’ steps along with some others.

Seeing the video of Ina and her all women band also made me thing of Some Like It Hot, but, returning to reality, I also thought about the Boys’ clarinetist/trumpeter giving the beat at the start of each song, which is all fine and good, except it seems like too much to ask of everyone to play the correct notes and contemporaneously maintain the same beat for more than about three measures. I think playing very short songs is the answer.

I also noticed that the piano player held his right shoulder slightly higher than his left, which led me to a website about posture and piano playing. With all these distractions, it’s amazing that I was able to enjoy the music, but I did.

Bugs Bunny at the Symphony (30th Anniversary Edition) – Symphony Center – January 18, 2020

In this, the 80th anniversary of Bugs Bunny’s debut in The Wild Hare, this program of classic cartoons being accompanied live by the Warner Bros. Symphony Orchestra listed Bugs, Elmer Fudd, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Wile E. Coyote, Road Runner, Michigan J. Frog, and Giovanni Jones as starring. I was glad to see that there wasn’t an insert telling me that an understudy would be filling in for any of them. I would have been disappointed at seeing Donald, rather than Daffy, playing the role of the duck.

I also was glad to see that I wasn’t the only adult in the audience unaccompanied by a child. I wasn’t counting my inner child, as it didn’t need its own seat.

The program also told me that Max Steiner composed the Warner Bros. Fanfare. Steiner was a man of many firsts in regard to scoring movies, including the use of click tracks, which the musicians at the Symphony Center were listening to on headphones, which were not merely acting as earmuffs, as I originally contemplated given the cold temperatures outside.

Steiner was a major influence for John Williams, whom, I will gratuitously mention, was played by the son of a friend of mine on the Apple Podcast, Blockbuster, which tells the story of the early directing days of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, and which led me to research further and come to believe that Lucas’s film editor and wife of the time, Marcia, who won the Oscar for Best Film Editing (one more Oscar than George has ever won) was probably the real force behind the success of the original Star Wars.

Speaking of directors, the great Chuck Jones, the animation director of about half the cartoons shown at Symphony Center, was represented by his grandson and great granddaughter, who, on behalf of the Chuck Jones Center for Creativity, presented the Symphony Center with an original drawing by Jones of Bugs as conductor. There’s no Oscar for best animation director, but there should be given how difficult it must be to deal with temperamental cartoon characters, like Yosemite Sam.

What’s Opera, Doc?, an operatic performance even I can get behind, was greeted with cheers from the audience as conductor, and co-creator of these concerts, George Daugherty informed us that we would be hearing eight Wagner operas in the space of six minutes and four seconds, rather than 30-40 hours.

The audience also was treated to three new Road Runner shorts and the world concert premiere of Dynamite Dance, a new cartoon, based on The Dance of the Hours, created for Bugs’s 80th birthday.

Fittingly, at the end of the performance, Daugherty was presented with a bouquet of carrots.

That’s All Folks.

606 Trail – December 26, 2019

I still haven’t scaled Mt. Everest or qualified for the Astronaut Candidate Program (my lack of a degree in one of the required sciences certainly being the only thing holding me back), but now I can scratch off walking the 606 Trail, or at least most of it, from my bucket list (from which I also scratched off a bucket handle tear of meniscus cartilage earlier this year).

Make no mistake about it, the trail has some elevation changes (okay, pretty gentle, more like the ramp leading into Mt. Sinai Hospital than the South Col Route up Mt. Everest). But, at 2.7 miles each way, the trail required me to cover a lot more ground in my extravehicular activity (from a good nearby parking space), and with more gravity holding me back than it did either Neil Armstrong or Buzz Aldrin (the moon’s is one-sixth that of the earth’s), and in a lot less time than their 2 hours, 31 minutes, 40 seconds (but who’s counting).

Besides being unencumbered by automobile or lunar module traffic (but watch out for the bicycles whizzing by), the trail offers great people watching and interesting views down tree-lined streets and into a variety of nearby residences for those who relish peeking into others’ homes (you know who you are).

While the path itself is hard, like a typical sidewalk, each side has a narrow (but wide enough for one person) rubberized lane that is a godsend for the weak-kneed. Water fountains abound, and I assume that, in those months when warm weather is expected (a list that’s growing and will soon include December), the fountains may actually be turned on.

The only thing the trail lacks from my standpoint (besides refreshments and jazz musicians at rest stops), is an intriguing destination (though the dog area at Walsh Park seemed to be popular) and perhaps some moon rocks to gather.

The Other Cinderella – Black Ensemble Theater – December 22, 2019

My favorite cast member in this incarnation of the Black Ensemble Theater’s annual production of The Other Cinderella was Stewart Romeo, who played the Page. According to his bio in the program, Romeo is a trained singer, actor and carpenter (and he’s funny and can dance). When I saw the carpenter credential, I wondered, given the family atmosphere of the theater, whether Romeo had been enlisted to build any sets. Sure enough, he’s listed in the program under set construction. It reminded me of Harrison Ford, who was a carpenter between early acting roles, and Alexander Godunov, who also danced a little during his career, showing off their carpentry skills while nailing their parts in the barn-raising scene in the movie Witness.

The theater’s family atmosphere continued after the show when the actors went into the lobby and formed a receiving line for the patrons. It was like being at Cinderella and the Prince’s wedding, though, disappointingly, there wasn’t any cake. I was a little embarrassed because I didn’t bring a gift (you have a year, right?), but I didn’t bring one to Tony and Tina’s wedding either.

Also embarrassingly, this was my first time at the theater’s current location – they moved into it in 2011. It’s a nice building, but some things haven’t changed. The indefatigable Jackie Taylor is still running it all as the CEO, and, in addition to having written The Other Cinderella, including many of the songs, over 40 years ago, she’s listed as the producer, director, costume designer, and, why not, understudy for this production.

Though the plot is essentially the same, this isn’t Disney’s or the Grimm Brothers’ Cinderella, or Strabo’s Rhodopis. No brothers from the hood there. And Taylor keeps it updated. I’m pretty sure the original production didn’t include references to Idris Elba, Michael B. Jordan, and social media.

Chicago Map Society Annual Holiday Gala and Members’ Show and Tell – Newberry Library – December 19, 2019

Ironically, I found the map society meeting without the help of a map.

While a meeting of a map society may seem somewhat anachronistic, I enjoyed it and am pretty sure it was more interesting than a meeting of computer-driven global positioning system advocates would have been.

Five people presented. The first showed us various inflatable and pop-up globes, including an inflatable one that might have been big enough to transport the stars of the movie The Aeronauts to new heights. The pop-up globes made me think of Sydney, Australia’s Shakespeare Pop-up Globe Theatre, though the closest I’ve come to it is an evening at San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre.

The second person displayed a map of Chicago from the 1933 World’s Fair showing Chicago as it was in 1833, although apparently not really, as it was just something to sell at the fair (printed t-shirts didn’t become popular until the 1960s), without the need for, or regard to, accuracy.

The meeting started to hit its stride with a European map from 1914 that featured dogs, that is, the dogs of war, which should have, again, made me think of Shakespeare (Marc Antony in Julius Caesar), but instead reminded me of Christopher Plummer’s scenery-chewing turn in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.

As proof that maps, computers, and people under the age of 30 can coexist, a student from Jones College Prep then gave the crowd an introduction to Minecraft, the best-selling video computer game of all time(?), and a mapping project he worked on with it, which led to him showing us a prize-winning map of a Canadian province created by one of his Minecraft buddies.

The last map we saw was the most timely, showing receding ice caps, world heat and humidity levels, and annual storm concentrations, a veritable Tempest.

Burning Bluebeard – Porchlight Music Theatre – December 15, 2019

Remember the scene in Animal House when John Belushi grabs the guitar out of the hands of the guy playing on the stairs and smashes it against the wall. I wanted to grab the entire cast of the Ruffians’ production of Burning Bluebeard, a show about the tragic December 30, 1903 Iroquois Theater fire, and smash them against the wall, gently of course, as I’m not a violent person.

On the other hand, a ruffian is defined as a violent person, especially one involved in crime, which seems fair, because, as far as I’m concerned, this play is a crime. But, just as no one was ever convicted in connection with the Iroquois fire, Burning Bluebeard has received great reviews over the years in which it has become a December tradition, and, based on the applause, was found innocent by many of those in attendance the night I saw it, in a clear case of audience nullification (see jury nullification if you haven’t watched enough Law and Order).

The Ruffians say that they use a “multi-disciplined creative process [that] fuses acrobatics, story-telling, and pop culture styling into a joyful anarchy that gives voice to the eerily beautiful harmonic hum of magical-realism.” I would agree with all of that, except the joyful part.

I’m not a big fan of avant-garde theater, the closest I have come to liking it before being the time I saw a production of Austin Pendleton’s Orson’s Shadow about Welles’s production of Ionesco’s Rhinoceros. But, if avant-garde is your thing, then knock yourself out, as opposed to the cast, and see this production. Just don’t sit in the front rows, or the fog, representing smoke, may knock you out.

The play is informative. But, personally, I would recommend, instead, reading the Smithsonian Magazine article about the fire and the reforms that resulted from it.

Q Brothers Christmas Carol – Chicago Shakespeare Theater – December 14, 2019

Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol was first published in 1843. Though the underlying spirit (or spirits, if you will) remains the same, the Q Brothers have made more than a few changes. Bless them, everyone.

This makes six years in a row I’ve seen the Q Brothers ply their trade in this must-see show. I’d call it a tradition, but that implies a handing down between generations. I can’t even get most of my same-generation friends to go because they’re afraid of hip-hop, as if it were some kind of communicable disease. Bah, humbug, Those who have gone, thank me.

Since I’ve written about the show the last two years, there’s not much left to say, except to wonder when the cast will get too old to dance around the stage, and when that happens, will they allow a younger set of performers to replace them in the tradition of some road-weary 60s rock band that has reached its limit and sold their name (see Blood, Sweat, and Tears).

Nonetheless, I’ll mention a few things. Scrooge asking a young girl in the audience whether he’s using the word hashtag correctly. Her hands-up response suggested she didn’t know, which made me feel better. Scrooge’s childhood friend once again going off on a tangent, not one considered by Leibniz or Euclid, but different than last year’s, cracking up not only the other actors and the audience, but also himself, and thereby answering my question as to whether his random departure is part of the show. The Tarik Cohen joke added last year to show currency. The newly-inserted visual marijuana reference to the Illinois law about to take effect. Tiny Tim’s song that matter-of-factly lists all his ailments, none of which, I’m pretty sure, are transmitted by attending a hip-hop show. Just saying.

Two Tales of a City – Northwestern University and Newberry Library – December 4 and 11, 2019

Northwestern’s Chicago in the Roaring Twenties was the best of lectures, Newberry Library’s misnamed Books That Built Chicago was the worst of lectures.

Kathleen Skolnik, who teaches art and architectural history at Roosevelt University, had the Northwestern audience in the palm of her hand as she led them on a photograph-aided journey through design elements of the 1920’s.

On the other hand, or palm, the Newberry Library didn’t even get the name of their program right. There’s a reason why Chicago by the Book: 101 Publications That Shaped the City and Its Image is so named, as evidenced by architect and IIT professor John Ronan’s task to convince us that the original brochure (a publication, not a book) for the 860-880 Lake Shore Drive Mies van der Rohe buildings was worthy of being included.

He failed. Just because the buildings themselves may have been groundbreaking, doesn’t mean that the brochure was significant, its inclusion apparently resting on its attempts to glorify a plain, rectangular, interior living space.

And yet, Ronan held our attention better than David Van Zanten, Professor Emeritus in Art and Art History at Northwestern University, who discussed Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ausgeführte Bauten und Entwürfe, 1910-11 (Executed Buildings and Designs for those of you who don’t read German).

Van Zanten spent most of his interminable bombination, not on the substance of the book, but rather on the way in which the pages opened and folded over one another, and then posited that, perhaps, he should have showed us this origami-related manipulation on the screen instead of through third-rate, mime-like, hand gestures.

There were two other speakers at the Newberry, who informed us about the arguments the chapter selection committee had over whether or not menus should be included in the book.

Sparing you this discussion may be a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.