Printers Row Lit Fest – September 7, 2024

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I started with the Sisters in Crime, represented by four women mystery writers, including Sara Paretsky. As there had been when I saw her there in 2018, a minute mystery competition was promoted. But I was so bored after listening to the first writer read from her forthcoming book, that it was no mystery that I left after 10 minutes to wander around, thereby missing the contest.

At last year’s Lit Fest I recorded a 10-second sound bite for the Get Lit Podcast, As I still haven’t received my imaginary royalties from that appearance, I decided to forego treating them to further words of wisdom this year.

I came across a tent selling t-shirts with messages like “The book was better” and “I’ll stop when I finish this page, chapter, book.” Tempting, but no sale.

For all you Wordle addicts, I came across a book of Wordle limericks, written by a retired oncologist from Fresno (please note, not a single five-letter word in that sentence, or this one).

Deciding to actually listen to a speaker, I dropped in on Thomas Maier, who thoroughly engaged the audience with stories about his career in journalism; his book and later Showtime series Masters of Sex; the recently-released Paramount+ docuseries entitled Mafia Spies: The Inside Story of the CIA, Gangsters, JFK and Castro, based on his 2019 book of the same name; and his newest book, Montauk to Manhattan: An American Novel.

I forgive him for the self-important addition of “An American Novel,” as it was undoubtedly the publisher’s idea.

3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . Blastoff – September 6, 2024

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SpaceX, move over. Stranded astronauts, here I come. It only took me 10 days to build the Artemis rocket and its gantry, even with work stoppages for snacks, naps and the occasional glimpse of the funniest show on television – the Chicago White Sox.

I’ve built a Lego piano, radio, typewriter (all three with moving parts), globe, Atlas rocket, space shuttle and bouquet of roses that I watered the other day; they look that good.

But nothing prepared me for the massive effort required to construct the Artemis set of 3601 pieces, counting a few, not even noticeable, that fell off from somewhere, but the absence of which will not affect functionality, unlike say, door plugs that fall off or propulsion systems that fail.

The 370-page instruction manual ought to be of more help. I’m sure it would be if it were written by Ambrose Monk.

And the online construction video wherein some guy in Australia puts the whole thing together in 32 minutes and 58 seconds just doesn’t fly.

Nevertheless, my personal air and space museum doesn’t look too bad, unless your device doesn’t allow you to see the photo I’ve attached, then never mind.

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Network – Invictus Theatre Company at Windy City Playhouse – September 1, 2024

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I really liked this new theatrical adaptation of Paddy Chayefsky’s movie Network, and not just because a friend of mine was in it.

They tell you to come early to add to your enjoyment of the immersive process, and, sure enough, the bulk of the excellent cast is on and around the stage, in character, doing their business as if really preparing for a tv show that is getting ready to go on air.

I learned a new word, adamantine, a description that, I admit, may occasionally have personal relevance.

Even though the film came out in 1976, the script, the gist of which I’m certain remains unchanged, remains eerily current.

An exception would be the way people were watching Howard Beale back then, the reference being to 21-inch televisions. That seems archaic in the age of size matters.

Speaking of TV sets, the play’s use of screens was well-conceived and executed, a far cry from the use of the screen I criticized in my review of The Band’s Visit.

And speaking of size mattering, the sex scene, normally a boring or uncomfortable, or both, moment in a play for me, was short, cleverly imagined, useful to the story line and funny.

Clown Torture and Spectrum Colors Arranged by Chance – Art Institute of Chicago – August 30, 2024

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I’ve never been scared of clowns, as some people are. I’ve always liked them, until I saw Bruce Nauman’s Clown Torture.

The exhibit, at the museum until November, is described as “utter cacophony, an aural and visual assault.” Is that a good thing? Not to me.

The “artist’s” suggested viewing time of the four films is an hour. A minute is more than enough. The only one that I found at all interesting was of a clown sitting on an accessible toilet reading a magazine (that should tell you something), but the awful racket from the other films, playing simultaneously, drove me from the theater before I could fully appreciate the profundity of the bathroom’s mise-en-scène.

Fortunately, I thought, I could salvage my visit with the soon-to-close Elizabeth Kelly 10-piece exhibit of Spectrum Colors Arranged by Chance. Swing and a miss.

Using papier gommette, which is, we are told, commonly used by French schoolchildren, Kelly’s work fits right into that mode.

She is described as one of the 20th century’s defining artists, creating collages using the “modified random technique.” If it’s random, what skill is she bringing to the table? I’m guessing this is one instance where no one would be able to tell the difference between Kelly’s work and one produced by artificial intelligence, except perhaps by the price tags.

Death, Let Me Do My Show – Steppenwolf Theatre – August 24, 2024

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If you were a fan of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, which I was, it was impossible to resist the temptation to see Rachel Bloom’s current theatrical production.

That said, I didn’t know what to expect from the show, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t what I got, which was part stand-up comedy about life, death and Bloom’s last few years, and part therapy session for her, with a few typically dirty and/or irreverent Bloom songs mixed in, the last of which, my favorite, may or may not have been titled I Am My Daughter’s Well-Intentioned Dog.

What was promoted as a one-woman show turned out to also include the embodiment of death, as played by David Hull, who played White Josh on Crazy Ex. In retrospect I guess the title of the show should have been my first clue in that regard.

Spoiler alert (not really as the show closes today), Hull, wearing a Covid mask, first inserted himself into the show as a heckler in the audience. Before he did his reveal, Bloom ripped into him in humorously startling fashion.

From there, things got serious, then they got funny, then rinse and repeat for the full 90 minutes.

Through Ella’s Eyes – Logan Center for the Arts – August 17, 2024

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In celebration of Ella Fitzgerald’s 107th birthday, the Chicago Jazz Philharmonic put on a show.

I didn’t know that number was one of the big ones, like 50, 75, 100, as this was my first time at someone’s 107th birthday party.

At that, I almost didn’t make it in time, what with all the street closures for the DNC, which apparently stands for Drive No Cars.

After arriving, I wish I had been late enough to miss the opening “aren’t we all wonderful” speeches.

I could have used those extra minutes, en route, to further gaze in awe at the in-progress Obama Presidential Center, perhaps the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.

But, since it isn’t yet completed, there’s still hope. I would suggest that they hire some graffiti artists to work on the outer walls, like the city did a few days ago to paint murals on the CTA trains.

The highlight of the first half of the concert was the opening number, A Lost Panorama. It was followed by Tributary, which I wish had flowed in a different direction. For me, the three featured woodwind players lacked sax appeal.

After intermission, the second half started with a “lively discussion” between conductor/arranger Orbert Davis and long-time jazz critic Howard Reich about Fitzgerald. Though I came for music, not talk, I enjoyed the conversation.

That said, my biggest disappointment about the program was the insertion of too much banter throughout, so much so that the finale, which I was highly anticipating, It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got that Swing), ironically got cut.

The other interruption to my enjoyment of the wonderful orchestra was the constant encouragement by Davis, and vocalists Bobbi Wilson and Margaret Murphy-Webb, to applaud. Jazz musicians are so needy.

I like to show my appreciation, but really, is there a need to applaud after every five second solo? I had to soak my hands in Epsom salts when I got home.

I will, nevertheless, single out three people from the orchestra – John Moulder on guitar, Leandro Lopez Vary on piano, and Zara Zaharieva, who is now officially my all-time favorite female Bulgarian violinist, not just for her skills, but also for the enthusiasm she evidenced throughout the evening.

The Last Wide Open – American Blues Theater – August 16, 2024

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Thank you to the American Blues Theater for using the American spelling of theater in its name and on the building it moved into last year, which I visited for the first time for this show. Noah Webster would be proud.

Now that I’ve experienced their flexible studio space, dressed up as a diner, with the audience at tables, in this immersive experience, I’ll have to go back some time for a different production in their larger space, perhaps their annual production of It’s a Wonderful Life.

To augment the diner experience, each member of the audience even got served cheese and sausage (presumably Polish, given the show we were seeing), but only one piece per customer, so I’m glad I stopped first at BryAnna’s down the block, my first time at this nice restaurant, to have some Salvadoran and Guatemalan cuisine, though I found their pollo amarillo rather bland for my taste buds. I don’t know what sensation “Guatemalan spices” are supposed to elicit, but it just tasted like chicken to me. I only saw one item on the menu that used the word “spicy”. Next time.

In any event, the show was excellent. Real life husband and wife Michael Mahler and Dara Cameron play two people who may or may not be destined for each other in a multiverse that, fortunately, merely asks for acceptance rather than trying to explain itself in 80 minutes, for as much as I enjoy listening to Max Tegmark and Brian Greene, they make my head spin, at least in this incarnation.

Fascinating Rhythm: Gershwin and Friends – Grant Park Music Festival – August 14, 2024

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In 1916, The Georgia Tech football team, coached by John William Heisman (after whom a trophy, not for sportsmanship, would be named), beat Cumberland College 222-0. It is said that one of the Cumberland backs, after fumbling the ball in the backfield, yelled at a teammate to pick it up, whereupon the teammate yelled back – “you dropped it, you pick it up.”

Byron Stripling, conductor of the Grant Park Orchestra for the evening, told a story, he swore was true, of a concert where a man in the front row started snoring. Stripling stopped the music and asked the man’s wife to wake him, the wife responding “you put him to sleep, you wake him up.”

True or not, it made this wide-awake audience laugh, as did his introduction of himself, “for those who did not know,” as Wynton Marsalis, helping to exhibit why Stripling is a quadruple threat, as he also sang, scatted and played a mean trumpet while leading a night of beautiful music.

My enjoyment actually started at the morning rehearsal, sitting in the choral seats behind the orchestra, where I uncovered the secret of how horn players prepare when they aren’t playing – texting, emailing and reading on their cell phones.

I also got to see three union reps quietly storm the stage to inform Stripling that it was break time, whereupon the orchestra was asked to vote whether they wanted to first finish the song they were working on. (Democracy in action.) They did, though the harp player, with nothing to do at that point, and situated near the exit, snuck off.

As Jim Rupp, the drummer for the Cleveland Jazz Orchestra and the Cleveland Pops Orchestra, was brought in to do his thing for the concert, the regular percussionists spent a lot of time out of sight, mentally preparing for their highlighted moments that included a whistle blow and a single strike of the triangle. Good thing all the sound shields in front of them were in place.

Jazz pianist Bobby Floyd was also brought in to wow us, as was vocalist Sydney McSweeney, who earned a standing ovation from the audience shortly before Stripling politely kicked a confused orchestra off the stage, thereby averting another visit from their union reps, to finish the program with Rupp and Floyd in a jam session of, appropriately, Summertime, wherein he held a note so long on his trumpet that I researched, wrote, edited and rewrote this whole blog before he moved on.

Broadway x 3 – July 31, August 6, August 12, 2024

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Three different annual Broadway-related concerts, put on by three different groups, in the span of 13 days, and nothing unlucky about it.

The Grant Park Music Festival opened with Broadway Rocks!, which opened with the overture from Tommy. I would have been satisfied with that alone, but the orchestra and a trio of singers kept the energy going through another dozen selections, closing with Don’t Stop Believing (Rock of Ages).

Six days later Porchlight Music Theatre (PMT) wrapped up its Broadway in Your Backyard 12-concert summer series in Washington Square Park (I also saw them June 27 at Seneca Park), opening with, appropriately, Another Op’nin’, Another Show (Kiss Me Kate) (which sent me off into “what if” land, wondering about what the the reception would have been if Mel Brooks had titled the song from The Producers Another Op’nin’, Another Flop, instead of just Opening Night) and closing with Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In (which was actually the opener in Hair). These things are important.

Then, another six days later, it was back to Millennium Park for Broadway in Chicago, put on by, wait for it, Broadway in Chicago, featuring songs from 16 shows coming to Chicago (starting today with Back to the Future). Some of the shows have been here before, like Come From Away, Les Miserables, Moulin Rouge and the pre-Broadway run of Tina, but the biggest hits of the night were a couple newcomers, Kimberly Akimbo and Titanique (produced by PMT), both of which brought waves of laughter and enthusiastic applause from an audience that packed the park from front to back.

Finally, I would be remiss if I omitted the fact that two songs were included in both otherwise divergent Millennium Park Concerts, the always crowd-pleasing Proud Mary (Tina) and the always crowd-engaged Sweet Caroline (A Beautiful Noise), which closed the last of the three nights.

Broadway Rocks! – Grant Park Music Festival – July 31, 2024

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Robbie Ellis of WFMT emceed the pre concert talk, featuring conductor Lucas Waldin for the first 10 minutes before he had to leave to prepare for the concert.

Then the program went off the rails. Ellis and his other two guests, neither of whom I have any clue about, started comparing jukebox musicals to elements of Harry Potter. Half the attendees, myself included, had no idea what they were talking about.

Then, just as I was ready to bail, Ellis turned the discussion to a jukebox musical coming to town in 2025. Without going into detail, let me say that I, and the Porchlight Music Theatre (co producer of said show, Titanique, with Broadway in Chicago) Board of Directors sitting next to me, let our presence and enthusiasm be known, leading to a short dialogue with Ellis, who praised Porchlight, leading to cheering from the crowd.

It was then on to the concert itself, which consisted of a wonderful array of songs, energetically performed, and more costume changes by Lakisha Jones and Chloe Lowery in 90 minutes than I make in a year.

It was two shows in one, as a woman sitting three rows in front of me relived her youth throughout, while the man who appeared to be her husband sat stoically next to her, apparently no longer excited by her singing and chair dancing to the music.