Chicago Live – Navy Pier – September 23-24, 2023

Navy Pier, it’s not just for tourists. Well, maybe most of the time, but not at Chicago Live.

Important information I picked up.

From Theo Ubique Theatre – how they pronounce Ubique. Their presentation of Sondheim songs, including Not Getting Married Today, led me to watch again, online, the great rendition by Katie Finneran.

From the Filament Theatre two-person presentation of something (I don’t what, I was just passing by the stage when they caught my attention) that “It’s hard to balance on invisible legs.”

From the young lady at the Hot Tix booth with an acting degree who currently works as a carpenter at local theaters, that the Nacirema (Society), in the name of the current play at the Goodman, is American spelled backwards. Doh!

Also, it sounds like Hot Tix is considering a membership that would allow you to pick your seat, something I could get behind.

From the marvelous Lucy Darling, that she is going to be the emcee of the new Teatro ZinZanni show opening in October. Lucy did a standard empty bag trick, while insulting audience members in a way that would make Don Rickles proud. The contortionist, Ulzii Mergen, also appeared, being attractive, impressive and cringeworthy all at the same time.

Other stuff I saw.

Porchlight Music Theatre promoting its upcoming Cole Porter Festival, which, I am excited to say, will feature Meghan (Big Red) Murphy in the role of Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. I have it on good information that playing this part has been on her bucket list. I liked Porchlight’s rendition of Now You Has Jazz better than Bing Crosby’s in High Society, though, I admit, having Louis Armstrong playing the trumpet did work in Crosby’s favor.

Lots of percussion – from third Coast Percussion and from a Chicago Philharmonic trio, whose sound was such that I kept waiting for dancers wearing big construction boots and carrying large trash cans to appear.

Dancers did appear for me at Culture Shock Chicago and Chicago Tap Theatre (as my readers know, you can never have enough tap).

Victor Garcia giving a master class on the use of the trumpet mute.

A DJ at a classic show tunes stage presenting a geographical music tour – I heard Kansas City (Oklahoma), Iowa Stubborn (Music Man), and Ohio (Wonderful Town).

Chronologically, the American Blues Theater’s road trip had me from the 50s opening Chuck Berry guitar riff of Johnny B. Goode (though sadly no duck-walking) and cemented my interest with the 60s CCR hit Down on the Corner (which was the song that sustained me while poring over the course catalog junior year of college looking for a new major). I’ll skip ahead to the 2000s to mention Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off because her appearance at the Bears game was apparently the biggest news in the NFL Sunday and thankfully overshadowed the high school team wearing their jerseys against Kansas City.

I love the Black Ensemble Theater but I have to say that I would have liked to hear the performance of Piece of My Heart emulate, not Janis Joplin, but rather the original Emma Franklin version.

Dee Alexander was new to me, but smooth as could be (with a great band behind her). I’ll watch for her in the future and be back at Chicago Live for more next year.

Printers Row Lit Fest – September 10, 2023

Among other things, Jena Friedman has been a field producer at The Daily Show and written for Late Show with David Letterman. She was at the Fest promoting her book, Not Funny: Essays on Life, Comedy, Culture, Et Cetera.

She actually is funny, but the most interesting thing she had to say about her book was that you can find a couple publications on Amazon that appear to want to steal her thunder, including Jena Friedman: The Biography of Jena Friedman and Her Rule to Success, which was written by someone (something) named Justice Wall, who supposedly has written 107 biographies, all published in 2023, sold by Amazon Asia-Pacific Holdings Private Limited. According to Bloomberg.com, that company’s line of business includes providing computer programming services, which provides some insight into how it can be so prolific.

When it was suggested to Friedman that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, she countered that, in fact, payment is the sincerest form of flattery, and so the writers are on strike over, among other things, the threat posed by artificial intelligence.

From a discussion of AI’s potential for taking bread from writers’ mouths, I went to a program on Taking a Bite Out of the Heartland, with Monica Eng and David Hammond, (Made in Chicago: Stories Behind 30 Great Hometown Bites) and Big Jones Chef Paul Fehribach (Midwestern Food: A Chef’s Guide to the Surprising History of a Great American Cuisine, with More than 100 Tasty Recipes).

They discussed pizza, ribs, and tamales, but most importantly, when questioned about hot dogs, the chef voted for Super Dawg (also my pick).

On my way out I paid my annual visit to the popular Vintage Graphic Art vendor and did a 10-second sound bite for this week’s Get Lit Podcast, my first radio appearance in years.

World Dumpling Fest – Logan Square Park – September 9, 2023

Except in passing on my way somewhere else, I haven’t been to Logan Square in almost 50 years, at which time I was coaching a church league basketball team of high school freshman in a game at the local boys club (which I believe has since been torn down and replaced by an apartment building), my primary responsibilities being to drive the players to the game in the church van (without getting into an accident), buy them something to eat at Jack in the Box after the game (win or lose), and hold onto my star player’s switchblade during the game (to avoid any accidents).

So it was not just the lure of eight different food vendors, representing as many different cultures, that lured me to the neighborhood, but also the appeal of walking around without a deadly weapon in my pocket. If anything was going to kill me, it would be deep fried dumplings.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about that either. By the time I got to the fest, a little over an hour after it opened, they were already sold out of food tickets, which was just as well, as each booth had a very long line of people waiting to gorge themselves, and, as we know, I don’t do lines.

But the trip wasn’t a total loss. A couple blocks away I happened across the Chicago Citywide Classic Car Club (or so their t-shirts read) hanging out by dozens of unique, shiny vehicles, which they probably wouldn’t have wanted me to approach with a leaky dumpling in hand.

Chicago Jazz Festival – Millennium Park – September 3, 2023

In some year before I started writing this blog I saw Petra’s Recession Seven somewhere, I think. And I’ve seen clips of them on YouTube, I think. I liked their music, I think.

Probably good enough, when combined with their promotion as performing traditional jazz and swing from the 20s, 30s and 40s, for me to brave the heat and potential crowds to go see them. And then, surprise, I read that bandleader and singer Petra van Nuis is married to guitarist Andy Brown, whom I have enjoyed and written very favorably about on several occasions, I know.

So, it was off to the Von Freeman Pavilion for an hour of smooth nostalgia, with a seat in the shade, including songs from Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller, Billie Holiday and Cole Porter and appropriately finishing with King Oliver’s Doctor Jazz, a song I fondly remember hearing the Ezra Quantine Ragtime Memorial Band play many times in local clubs in the 1970s, I think.

Fourth Presbyterian Church Noonday Concert and Chicago Jazz Festival – September 1, 2023

At the church, Ashley Ertz (oboe) and Lillia Woolschlager (piano) treated us with a Samuel Coleridge-Taylor piece I can’t remember the name of, possibly because I never looked at it in the program. 

I didn’t stay for the rest of the concert, featuring composers unknown to me, and compositions from the latter half of the 20th century, a potential red flag for me, though, I admit, the music wafting through the Sanctuary as I left sounded like something I might have liked. But I had other fish, or beignets, to fry and so headed for the Jazz Festival.  

As promised to myself last week after seeing the Juan Pastor trio at the Noonday Concert, I went to see Pastor’s Chincahno, expecting a quintet, but pleasantly surprised to hear a septet, whose sound filled Millennium Park with Peruvian-inspired top-tapping rhythms.    

And, as with any music festival worth its salt, a wide variety of overpriced t-shirts were available for purchase.  

More interestingly, there was a creole food stand, whose offerings included the aforementioned beignets. The last time I had one of those, it was with a cup of coffee and chicory, sitting outside at the original Cafe du Monde (there are now 10) on the banks of the Mississippi River in New Orleans, where the beignets are served in threes in case eating just one of these deeply fried treats is not enough to clog every artery in your body. The approximately 60 million steps I’ve taken since then hopefully have negated that indulgence, but I decided not to risk further damage this time, even though there was a medical vehicle stationed not too far away.

Chicago Jazz Festival – Chicago Cultural Center – August 31, 2023

I was drawn to this program by the fact that it was promoted as Zack Markstet, Performing Horace Silvers’ 1966 release “The Jody Grind”. My interest may have been surprising as I had never heard of Markstet or The Jody Grind.

However, I have three CDs (remember them) of Silver’s music, two of them featuring The Jazz Messengers. The third is entitled Jazz . . . has . . . a Sense of Humor (his final studio album), a title that fairly reflects part of why I’m a fan of his music.

That said, for all I knew going in, Markstet’s sextet was make up of guys from downtown street corners who would turn the six-track album into something resembling the theme song from The Jetsons. I still don’t actually know anything about the musicians, but they sounded good and, as far as I could tell, remained true to the original recording, though they substituted a trombone for the second saxophone that the Blue note label gave us in 1966.

I don’t write music, so I found a website that told me that a trombone can read alto sax parts by reading as in bass clef and adding 3 flats to the written key. Unless those changes are written out ahead of time, it sounds like playing blindfolded chess to me, which would be a real grind.

Coming Attractions (or not) – September, 2023

I was berated today for not telling people about events before they happen. So, for all of you out there who haven’t yet learned how to use your computer, and since I have a little time to kill, here are some ideas for things to do in September.

First, and foremost, and before you tire of my sarcasm, you must go to the Porchlight Music Theatre’s Icons Gala on the 8th at the Athenaeum Center. It will, as always, be a very entertaining evening and, if you buy one of the top-tier tickets, you get to mingle with me at the pre-show cocktail reception. Also, the guest of honor, Ben Vereen, will be in attendance.

As I alluded to in an earlier post, the Chicago Jazz Festival comes to town the first few days of the month. You’re on your own as to which acts might interest you. I stopped going years ago, as I tired of the modern, atonal nonsense they inappropriately call music, but there are a few acts on the calendar this year that I either have seen before and liked or am confident enough about to risk a trek down to Millennium Park or the Cultural Center for a look-see.

The Fourth Presbyterian Church takes its Noonday Concerts indoors starting this Friday, which seems premature to me, but allows them to put to use their big honking organ, though, fortunately for my tastes, not until the end of the month, so, again, why not keep things outdoors until then.

The Harris Theater for Music and Dance is celebrating its 20th Anniversary (seems like 40 years taking into account having to traverse all those stairs) on the 9th in Millennium Park. The unprecise schedule makes it hard to know when I might want to drop in, though the likelihood of families attending the afternoon sessions is fair warning to avoid those.

The Printers Row Lit Fest is that same weekend (both days). It always presents a plethora of interesting exhibitors and programs, if you can find them in the event’s labyrinth (watch out for the Minotaur).

And, not finally, but I’m tired, the American Writers Museum is hosting Get Lit: Grown-Up Book Fair on the 12th, which will feature refreshments, carnival games, and an Adult Spelling Bee, which, I assume, means either dirty words and/or easier ones than the obnoxiously well-prepared kids at the real one have to tackle.

Chicago Storytelling in Bughouse Square – The Newberry – July 15, 2023

Last year, in regard to this annual event, I quoted Will Rogers about things not being what they used to be. This year, they were even less than that.

Last year, I visited the Society of Smallness table and exchanged small talk with them. But, after many years of underwhelming us with their underachievements, they didn’t make an appearance this year. Perhaps they had little left to say.

A few times, in past years, I’ve been entertained by the ragtag Environmental Encroachment Brass Band, and, last year, the Sheryl Youngblood Blues Band. This year, no offense, musically there only was a DJ whose job it was, I think, to help keep people awake between speakers in Ruggles Hall, which, as far as I know, despite being in a library, is not an eponym for the protagonist of the novel Ruggles of Red Gap, or the movie of the same name, wherein, interestingly, the actor Charles Ruggles plays, not the title character, but rather Egbert Floud.

Last year a couple of the scheduled speakers struck my fancy, including the one who talked about pigeons, a relevant topic when we were in the park as usual, but the threat of bad weather (even that’s not what it used to be – way more often now as Armageddon approaches), kept us inside, and the only orator I listened to was, coincidentally, Chad the Bird, who, in case you don’t know, is Chicago’s leading avian op ed columnist, who gave us the history of Malort, the iconic Chicago undrinkable drink.

Meghan “Big Red” Murphy – Wells Street Art Festival – June 10, 2023

The Wells Street Art Festival should really be called the Wells Street Drinking and Eating Disgusting Fried Foods Festival, but there was art on display.

This was a different kind of Big Red performance than what I have seen in the past, and I’ve seen quite a few – a bawdy holiday show with her and The Boys at a couple different theaters, a tour de force performance as The Lady of the Lake in Spamalot, a solo cabaret show, a third of a We Three trio of ladies at Steppenwolf of all places, a musical guest at the Green Mill’s Paper Machete, a private birthday party performance in the courtyard of my building during the pandemic and, originally, a turn as the star of a production of Woman of the Year.

This time there were no risqué songs, no double entendres, no scatting, and no live music, as if she were David Byrne trying to break the Broadway rules requiring pit musicians. (He finally agreed a couple days ago to use 12, instead of the normal minimum of 19 the union wanted).

There was only great singing and engaging banter in an outdoor street fair setting that is less than perfect for performers, though Red managed to get members of the milling crowd to dance and sing along, all while drinking along (Red stuck to water, I think).

My only disappointment with Murphy was when she sang a disco version of “If You Could Read My Mind” and said how surprised she was to learn that it was originally a Gordon Lightfoot song. I was surprised that there was a disco version.

Totally unrelated, I feel required to mention that I saw former Bears and Illinois head coach Lovie Smith walking around at the festival, one of the few people there who was old enough to know Lightfoot had written the song.

Chicago Blues Festival – Millennium Park – June 9, 2023

You don’t even have to enter the park to hear the music. It was so loud it made my throat hurt and my skin flaked. But the couple acts I heard induced a lot of head-bobbing in the audience and sounded great – Lightnin’ Malcolm, representing his birthplace on the Visit Mississippi Juke Joint Stage, and Stephen Hull, from that hotbed of blues, Racine.

Unsurprisingly, I have no interest in visiting Mississippi, but who doesn’t love a juke joint, which, in turns out, is a term derived from the Gullah word juke, which means bawdy or disorderly. What that has to do with a basketball player juking a defender, I’m not sure.

Besides the music and the everywhere-you-turned, blues-related merchandise, including items from the foundations of Muddy Waters, Eddie Taylor, Little Walter, and Willie Dixon, in case you need something from one of them to fill out your collection, the big draw at the festival is the smokehouse meat, which, I’ve found, has its own section concerning emission factors on the EPA website, which seemed like a good reason for taking a wide berth from where the cooking was taking place.