Nell Gwynn – Chicago Shakespeare Theater – October 9, 2018

Nell Gwynn and Tootsie. Almost indistinguishable. Both plays deal with, among other things, plays within plays. The play within Tootsie is a bastardization of Romeo and Juliet (renamed Juliet’s Nurse), changed to accentuate the part of a man, who is posing as a woman unbeknownst to the rest of the actors in, or audience of Juliet’s Nurse.

Several of the plays mentioned within Nell Gwynn are rewritten to accentuate her parts, in more ways than one, as she takes the place previously occupied in the theatrical world of merry old England by men who posed as women, though those men were known to be men by their audiences and fellow actors, unlike in Shakespeare in Love or Victor, Victoria, where women posed as men posing as women on stage.

In any event, David Bedella did a great job as the actor who had always played, if not possessed, the women’s parts. I’m sure Bedella, or do I mean his character, or both(?), would make a great Edna Turnblad in Hairspray, who is always played by a man, because, as explained by creator John Waters, it’s a secret the audience has, that the other characters don’t know. He actually said cast, not characters, but I’ve already made this confusing enough.

Nell Gwynn, the play, is based upon real characters and real events (I’m pretty sure Tootsie isn’t), though extreme liberties are taken to make it an entertaining evening, which leads me to the bubonic plague.

There’s a joke in the play (or was it in the play within the play?) about the plague, which meets with feigned disapproval, whereupon Bedella asks of his compatriots, “too soon?”. Big laugh, unless, perhaps, you know someone who died from the plague. But, as always I provide important research, having found a pseudoscientific inquiry about when a joke is too soon.

 

Tootsie – Cadillac Palace Theater – October 7, 2018

The Tootsie Roll company was founded in Chicago in 1907 by Leo Hirshfield. This has absolutely nothing to do with the musical Tootsie.

Al Jolson sang Toot, Toot, Tootsie! in The Jazz Singer in 1927. This also has absolutely nothing to do with the musical Tootsie.

Mrs. Doubtfire was a 1993 movie, which has never been turned into a play (although it’s under consideration), starring Robin Williams, in which he pretended to be a woman to get a job as a nannie for his ex-wife. And, although that movie has absolutely nothing to do with the musical Tootsie, an inordinate number of people attending Tootsie seemed to think they had come to see a theatrical version of Mrs. Doubtfire, as evidenced by confused discussions overheard during intermission.

I guess it could have been worse. They could have thought they were watching a revival of the play Sugar, based on the movie Some Like it Hot (more men pretending to be women), or wondered why they weren’t seeing Al Jolson sucking on a Tootsie Roll.

My favorite bits in the show were an x-rated song by Tootsie’s roommate, a rant of a song by Tootsie’s friend Sandy, and some dance instruction by the director of the show within the show that channelled Robin Williams, but still, no, this wasn’t Mrs. Doubtfire.

Santino Fontana was a terrific Tootsie. And no one confused him with Santino Corleone, Carlos Santana, or Fontana, Wisconsin. However, his part of Greg on Crazy ex Girl Friend is being taken over by Skyler Astin, which is sure to produce some confusion.

Tootsie is scheduled to open in previews on Broadway in March 29, 2019. Though its competition in the musical category may include Beetlejuice, Ain’t Too Proud – The Life and Times of the Temptations, The Cher Show, and King Kong, I believe that Tootsie, which is a laugh a minute, will win, at a minimum, some individual Tony awards. But who knows. The part of King Kong hasn’t been cast yet.

1,000 Books to Read Before You Die – James Mustich – American Writers Museum – October 4, 2018

At the end of the 1960 version of the movie The Time Machine, Mrs. Watchett, the housekeeper of H.G. Wells’s alter ego George, discovers three empty spaces on the book shelves. George’s friend Filby asks what three books Watchett would have taken (to aid the Eloi in the year 802,701 A.D.), a question that goes unanswered.

Also unanswered, at least for me, is whether The Time Machine, or any other Wells work, is included in 1,000 Books to Read Before You Die. I didn’t think to ask Musitch and the alphabetical by author excerpt on Amazon doesn’t make it to W. Perhaps I should travel back in time and ask Musitch, or, I could buy the book.

Interestingly, Wells’s book doesn’t pose the question about what books to take. And the 2002 movie remake starring Guy Pearce circumvents it by including a photonic librarian in the future who has the knowledge contained in all the books ever published. That’s more memory than my iPhone.

Pearce also plays a character in the movie Memento, suffering from anterograde amnesia, who has short term memory loss approximately every five minutes, so really no point in reading any books. And, while it seems like that would make learning lines difficult, as Marlon Brando demonstrated, memorization is unnecessary as long as you have a fellow actor like Robert Duvall in the Godfather holding up cue cards against his body for your benefit.

Brando said it helped with his spontaneity.  I wonder if I could have used that excuse in order to bring a cheat sheet to an exam. I recall that Woody Allen said he was thrown out of college for cheating on a metaphysics exam when he looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to him.

Musitch demonstrated a healthy memory, rattling off knowledge and opinion about books and authors I’ve never heard of, but I bet I know more about Seinfeld, Law and Order, and The Big Bang Theory episodes than he does.

 

Chicago Shakespeare Theater – Season Preview Party – October 2, 2018

The Urban Dictionary defines ghost as “to avoid someone until they get the picture and stop contacting you.” If only that worked with robocalls. Americans received 30 billion robocalls last year and a friend of mine insists that all of them were to him. But I digress.

Long before it became a verb, Shakespeare wrote about ghosts in five of his plays. And Dickens famously wrote about several apparitions in “A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas.” (How many of you knew the whole name of the novella?)

The Chicago Shakespeare Theater unites with Dickens every year to present “A Q Brothers’ Christmas Carol”. The 2018 production is one of this season’s shows that was highlighted at the preview party. I go every year. Do yourself a big favor and see it (even if you think you don’t like hip-hop).

Barbara Gaines, the Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s Artistic Director, asked the audience how many of them had seen productions of the company in the Ruth Page Auditorium, where it resided for 12 years before moving to its present location in 1999. A smattering of people raised their hands, which inspired me to shout out to Gaines, after only one glass of wine, “What about the Red Lion?”, a pub that is owned by an friend of mine and that also is known for being haunted by ghosts.

Rather than ghosting me or asking staff to remove me from the room, Gaines asked me to repeat myself, and when I did, and she realized that I knew about the company’s birth on the rooftop of the Lincoln Avenue bar in 1986, she rose from her chair, and bowed and raised her hands in praise to me, whereupon Creative Producer Rick Boynton, who was on stage with her, jokingly took it one step further by asking if anyone had been to Barbara’s living room. A woman sitting in front of me raised her hand, thereby unceremoniously putting me in my place.

 

 

Sweet Charity – Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre – September 27, 2018

I’d never seen Sweet Charity, so, in memory of the recently departed Neil Simon, I stayed in the suburbs beyond the limits of my golf visa, knowing that, at a minimum, I would enjoy the show’s two most well-known songs, Big Spender and If My Friends Could See Me Now.

What I didn’t know was that early in Act 2, a scene, including the song Rhythm of Life, seemingly stolen from from Hair, except that Hair debuted the year after Sweet Charity, comes out of nowhere, adding absolutely nothing to the story, but giving me time to daydream, and briefly consider opening the iPad on my lap to resume reading my latest ebook (about pioneering women pilots), as the scene bored me and I couldn’t understand most of what the chorus of hippies was singing anyway.

An exchange between the two main characters as they exited the scene, however, brought my attention back, as it was apropos of my attendance at the show and of my blog. Charity asks Oscar how he found out about the Rhythm of Life Church event they’d just attended under the Manhattan Bridge, and he responds that he’s on the mailing list for the Church of the Month Club. Sounds like me, except it’s theater and music email lists, and never under a bridge.

The rest of the show was solid, if unspectacular, except for the famous scene where Charity and Oscar get trapped in an elevator. Alex Goodrich, as Oscar, played the physical comedy of the scene and his claustrophobia to the hilt, eliciting roars of laughter from the audience as he climbed the walls of the elevator. Wouldn’t it be fun if, instead of showing the always depressing news, hotel elevators with television screens in them showed a version of this scene instead?

Porchlight Music Theater First Rehearsal Meet and Greet for Gypsy: A Musical Fable – September 18, 2018

As I walked into the industrial building Porchlight uses as a rehearsal space, a couple staff members greeted me by name, asked me what color wine I wanted, and pointed me toward the bowl of M&Ms. I love the theater.

At age 13, Bernadette Peters was the understudy for “Dainty June” in the second national tour of Gypsy, when, as the assistant conductor, Marvin Laird, recalled, “I heard her sing an odd phrase or two and thought, ‘God that’s a big voice out of that little girl.”

So I suggest you remember the name Isabella Warren. Get a piece of paper, write it down, and put it someplace where you’ll find it a few years from now. I’m not sure how old she is, certainly not yet 13. Her IMDB page says she played a terrified seven-year-old girl in a 2017 episode of Chicago P.D. What I am sure of is that she’s going to be a star. I know this because, at this first rehearsal, at the end of her big song as Baby June, Isabella held a note so long that the rest of the cast started looking at each other, dropping their jaws, and getting downright giddy about the talent they were witnessing. The only thing that would have been better is if she had done it while standing on her head and drinking a glass of water.

That said, Porchlight built this production around the fact that E. Faye Butler always wanted to play Rose, and she didn’t disappoint at the rehearsal. But the best part of watching the reading, aside from imagining what the burlesque queens were going to be doing during their rendition of You Gotta Get a Gimmick, was seeing how much the actors were enjoying themselves. This is going to be a fun production.

Music of the Baroque – Millennium Park – September 12, 2018

The big screen above the stage was used to zoom in on the musicians, along with showing the occasional picture of something related to the music, like a shot of the score. And while there were a couple photos that left me wondering as to their relationship to the music, I thought this was a wonderful addition, though I noticed, in some closeups, that a couple of the chorus members needed dental work.

Yes, I went to a concert that featured a chorus, but I only stayed for two of their numbers, and got to hear three other uninfected pieces, including Autumn from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, which I, and doubtless countless others, never tire of, no matter how many times we hear it when we’re on hold on the phone.

On the other hand, listening to the chorus repeat the word “rejoiced” six times in a row in Handel’s “Zadok the Priest” reminded me of how agonizing it was to hear the Beatles repeat the chorus of Hey Jude 19 times in a row at the end of that song, unless, I guess, you were stoned.

Another thing I noticed was that the violinists bobbed their heads differently (and apparently for different reasons, as I discovered). I wonder whether violinists sitting next to each other ever bang heads. When holding auditions, do orchestra leaders ever consider whether the seat they have to fill needs someone with a left or right head bobbing tendency. Have they ever thought of choreographing the head bobs, like a Temptations dance routine?

In regard to his Symphony No. 59, the program wrongly showed Hayden’s life as being between 1770 and 1827, which turns out to be Beethoven’s life, whereas Hayden really lived from 1732 to 1809. I wonder if those guys ever got each other’s mail. And I wonder if heads will roll, which is apparently a song by the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, speaking of repetitious lyrics by the Beatles, as opposed to bob, as a result of this mistake.

David L. Carlson, Landis Blair, Charlie Rizzo – The Hunting Accident: A True Story of Crime and Poetry – American Writers Museum – September 6, 2018

I arrived, and departed, confused by the term graphic novel, relieved only by the fact that, according to Wikipedia, author Daniel Raeburn wrote “I snicker at the neologism first for its insecure pretension—the literary equivalent of calling a garbage man a ‘sanitation engineer’—and second because a ‘graphic novel’ is in fact the very thing it is ashamed to admit: a comic book, rather than a comic pamphlet or comic magazine.”

This program had two distinct aspects to it, the discussion of the process of putting together the graphic novel (written by Carlson and illustrated by Blair), and the substance of the story (about Rizzo’s father). Listening to the discussion of the process was not quite as interesting as watching cheese age, which I had occasion to do in 2007 on cheddarvision.tv.

Carlson was overly fond of referencing John Keats’s concept of truth of imagination, as stated by Keats, in an 1817 letter to Benjamin Bailey (whoever he was), as “What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not.”

According to Carlson, he used this philosophy when taking liberties to fill in the story of Rizzo’s father. I always thought we just called that poetic license. Thinking about poetic license led me to a short item on Druid Life comparing it to fake news.

In any event, poetic license would have been a more appropriate reference in this case since the story is about a man who became a poet after being blinded while committing a robbery, and being taught braille by his cellmate, the infamous Nathan Leopold (whom, although long dead, you can friend on Facebook), at Stateville Prison, which the book compares to Dante’s nine circles of hell. Now doesn’t that grab you more than cheese aging?

Chicago Jazz Festival – Chicago Cultural Center and Millennium Park – August 30, 2018

The Chicago Cellar Boys played my kind of music at the Cultural Center – Fats Waller, Count Basie, and Jelly Roll Morton, among others. (I may have to check them out on a Sunday night at the Honky Tonk BBQ in Pilsen.) When I saw Andy Schumm take one hand off his clarinet and pat his head, looking like he was trying to keep a toupee on, I was mildly amused, until I realized he actually was signaling the other musicians about something, I knew not what. So I looked it up. I found “8 Jam Session Hand Signals That Every Musician Should Know”, which explained to me that a head pat “denotes a return to the beginning.”

This is one of the many reasons that I could never be a jazz musician. Isn’t it enough just to be able to improvise on your instrument, which I can’t? You also have to memorize signals as if you were a third base coach waving off the bunt and implementing the hit and run. It’s one thing to be able to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time, after years of practice, but pat your head and play an instrument, way out of my league. I don’t chew gum either, unless I’m seated.

I slid over from the Cultural Center to Millennium Park for the Second-line Procession led by Mystick Krewe of Laff, featuring the Big Shoulders Brass Band. it wasn’t quite like the Krewe du Vieux I once witnessed in New Orleans (here there was no float with a keg on it serving the crowd and nobody in the group was borderline naked), but it was fun to join with them as they marched around the park, playing traditional Dixieland jazz, leading an entourage of people like me making videos with their phones. Next year (or maybe tomorrow) I’ll bring some beads.

Chicago Cubs Baseball Game – Wrigley Field – August 29 2018

Today was the second time I had entered Wrigley Field since October 14, 2003, when some guy named Bartman made Felipe Alou go crazy in a playoff game by reaching for a foul ball. I was there for that game (and still have my ticket stub). Today’s game didn’t have quite the same drama. It essentially was over in the top of the first, when former White Sox player Todd Frazier hit a grand slam homer for the Mets.

So we spent the rest of the game observing things like the number of mound visits registered on the scoreboard and the number of players participating in them. On several occasions, the Cubs seemed to be channeling the movie Bull Durham, bringing half a dozen players to the mound to discuss wedding gifts, jammed eyelids, and cutting the head off a live rooster.

The Wrigley Field bathrooms definitely have been upgraded, or at least the one I inspected. The food still looks unappealing (I opted to bring a power bar from home instead) and the left field Jumbotron looks sort of surreal, but it helped light the field on a dismal day when the highlight of the action for the Cubs was a flock of birds taking up residence in short left field in the late innings.

Kyle Schwarber interacted more effectively with the birds, chasing them away, than he did with the Mets pitchers, striking out three times, and certainly more effectively than Tippi Hedren did in that Bodega Bay phone booth in 1963, a scene that couldn’t be shot today, because there are no phone booths, which also reminded me of the scene in the 1978 Superman: The Movie, when Clark Kent couldn’t find a suitable phone booth in which to change into his alter ego. Today, neither could Schwarber nor any of the other Cubs.