You have to remove all your injury ice packs from your freezer to make room for food.
Your choices for television you haven’t seen yet are down to The Masked Singer and reruns of videos from your lobby showing the mail person delivering the mail.
The guy in line in front of you at the store pulls out a measuring tape, gives you a dirty look, and makes a chalk line on the floor six feet behind him.
You don’t bother to pick the lima beans out of the vegetable medley you bought because they were out of real food.
You’re training your dog to go to the store for you.
You’re making a collage out of all the CEO messages you’ve received regarding company responses to COVID-19.
You live in a multiunit building and are considering saying hello to your neighbors.
BUT, DON’T PANIC YET – here’s some good news from a couple subscribers.
The Berlin Philharmoniker Digital Concert Hall is offering a free month of high quality audio and video—including different angles and closeups of the solos. (And the instructions are in English.)
Finally, thanks to all of you from whom I’ve heard about my recent post-apocalyptic posts. If my brain doesn’t give in to cabin fever, I’ll try, with your help, to keep them coming.
Just because the world has ground to a halt doesn’t mean that I should stop writing, or does it? Have I misinterpreted the signs? Anyway, to help us all pass the time, here are some notes about some of the things I’m not doing.
Speaking of signs, and the stealing thereof, I’m not watching baseball games. I wouldn’t anyway, but my class on the Literature of Baseball at Northwestern’s Osher Lifelong Learning Institute will be held online, instead of in person, which means I don’t get to indulge in the delicious home-made brownies that a member of the class, who is a baker, brings each week.
I’m not watching March Madness or running my pool, which is a shame because I concocted some bizarre rules this year in the hope that no one else would understand them. In that vein, in the absence of games, I have declared myself the winner of the pool.
Despite having been the Wizard of Oz in Wicked on Broadway, Joel Grey apparently does not have the power to make everything right and so is not going to the 25th Anniversary Porchlight Music Theatre Icons Gala honoring him and neither is anyone else, including me, at least until it gets rescheduled.
I’m not going to the postponed Newberry Library Associates Night, where I was hoping to cop some free wine and cheese and then sneak out before the staff droned on about research that would have bored me to tears.
I’m not going to the American Writers Museum to listen to Gene Luen Yang talk about his new graphic novel Dragon Hoops, as he cancelled his in-person book tour, and instead, according to his website, is touring as a cartoon.
I’m not going to the Civic Orchestra of Chicago’s 100th Anniversary Concert, which was to feature Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5, which also was performed at the orchestra’s first-ever concert on March 29, 1920. I missed that one too.
Erwin Helfer is my favorite boogie boogie and blues piano player (and a really nice guy, whom I’ve met a couple times). The last time I saw him was at the 2019 Chicago Blues Festival. Quite by accident, I discovered that he’d be playing at The Hideout, a place I’d never been to before.
The Hideout calls itself “a regular guy bar for irregular folks who just don’t fit in, or just don’t want to fit in.” As such, it’s got my name written all over it. After only one visit, I’d say that it’s my new favorite bar, except I didn’t have an old favorite bar, and I really don’t drink very much. That said, the bar’s Shiner S’more Chocolate & Marshmallow Ale on tap also had my name written all over it, and my name isn’t even Shiner.
Helfer’s trio was to include Rick Sherry on the washboard, which was an added enticement. I don’t know Sherry, but, c’mon, it’s the washboard. I heard my first one in New Orleans thirty years ago, played by a guy who also played the log that night. But Sherry, Helfer told us, had the flu, and was replaced by a drummer who atmospherically wielded a couple drum brushes as if he were Picasso.
Despite the lack of a log or washboard, the ambience I was seeking was maintained by The Hideout’s piano, which, in the true spirit of Helfer’s style and repertoire, is a very old-looking upright, without a top, with the hammers thus revealed.
My next trip to The Hideout will be for A Scientist Walks into a Bar : Thermodynamics – The Hottest Science. (Is this place eclectic or what?) The bar’s monthly interviews are promoted as “Chicago’s premier science-comedy talk show”. Are there others?
As usual, Porchlight Music Theatre’s New Faces event showcased a host of talent, and a host with talent, Cory Goodrich, five-time Jeff Award nominee, and two-time winner, who is soon to star in Porchlight’s production of Freaky Friday, opening April 10th.
There were songs from recent arrivals and entrenched hits, including four of the five longest-running shows in Broadway history – The Phantom of the Opera, Chicago, The Lion King, and Wicked – but none from non-musicals.
One song was from a show that just opened on Broadway, but is familiar to Chicago audiences – Six. Six’s Porchlight connection is strong, as four of the six stars of the show have been featured in the past in the New Faces series.
What’s more, four of the six women in the cast have first names that start with the letter A, and the two who don’t replaced two from the original West End cast who did. Coincidence, or enemy action?
New Faces makes me think of people who literally have a new face, say for example the characters played by John Travolta and Nicolas Cage in the movie Face/Off. I wonder if they would have titled the 1997 movie Trading Faces if not for the 1983 movie Trading Places.
Speaking of John Travolta, he appeared on Broadway in 1974’s Over Here, in the role of Misfit, singing a two-song medley with the Andrews Sisters. Over Here, which I never heard of before despite it having been nominated for best musical, also included the song Don’t Shoot the Hooey to Me, Louie (gotta love the title), sung by Samuel E. Wright, who sang Under the Sea in the animated film The Little Mermaid. With that kind of trivia, Over Here sounds like a candidate for a Porchlight Revisits production.
A musical suite is defined as a group of self-contained instrumental movements of varying character. A medley is a piece composed from parts of existing pieces. Instrumental medleys in overtures are fine, but calling a vocal medley a suite in a show’s printed program doesn’t make it so.
The problem with vocal medleys is that . . . . Just when the audience is starting to . . . . The performer isn’t given’t the chance to . . . . And the composer’s work . . . . It’s as if a writer started a series of sentences that . . . .
There were two so-called “suites” in this year’s Chicago Bar Association annual satire, For Lying Out Loud, that were somewhat, and only somewhat, saved by the fact that the piano accompanist for the show was excellent.
The opening and closing narrator for the show was dressed as Pinocchio, as befitting the theme. He first appeared on stage, however, already having a long nose, and it didn’t grow as a result of anything he said, unlike in the clever Geico commercials. So, was it Pinocchio or Cyrano de Bergerac?
The highlight of the show, for me, was seeing my name in the program as the purveyor of additional material, the reference being to two jokes I gave the writers many months ago. I was heartened to hear, not only the jokes, but also the audience laughing at them. Okay, the one predicting the imminent end of civilization may have elicited more of a groan, but I was back in show business.
Speaking of imminent ends, I was told that the Bar’s home venue will once again be changing, probably moving to the Studebaker Theater in The Fine Arts Building, with the hope, I suppose, that the show can somehow survive dwindling audiences and last four more years to reach an even 100, if civilization doesn’t end before then.
How ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?
The Mystic Krewe of Laff’s bash is promoted as being the biggest Mardi Gras event in Chicago. I don’t know if that claim is accurate, but even if it is, I’ve seen Paree, or rather I’ve seen the Krewe du Vieux Carré in New Orleans. It was 2012 and the theme was Crimes Against Nature, and they meant it.
In New Orleans, the party was outside, where Mardi Gras parties should be, and where you don’t mind standing, unlike in the City Winery, where they oversold the event and didn’t have enough seats, though seating for all had been promised.
In New Orleans the music was better, sounded more like New Orleans, and wasn’t as hard on the ears as the piercing din at the City Winery, though fortunately I was prescient enough to bring earplugs.
In New Orleans the food was better, as City Winery was apparently promoting a bland-food diet. How do you make jambalaya tasteless?
In New Orleans the costumes were more interesting, though a lot of people, not me, tried their best at the City Winery. They just didn’t understand the difference between flapper attire and the decadence and debauchery associated with a real carnival.
In New Orleans there were mule-drawn carts with kegs of beer and other libations on them, which, I admit, might have been somewhat challenging at the City Winery and probably in violation of several laws.
At the City Winery, people were handed beads at the door. In New Orleans, you had to earn them the old-fashioned way.
Other than all that Mrs. Lincoln, I enjoyed my first visit to City Winery.
The New York Times obituary of Mary Martin mentioned how it was her suggestion that her character Nellie Forbush in the Broadway production of South Pacific should literally wash that man right out of her hair (okay, the man wasn’t literally in her hair), as a result of which Martin shampooed her hair on stage for 1000 performances.
I never got to see that, except on a very grainy video of a West End production, but I did get to see Angela Ingersoll do it on stage, without the aid of a shower like Martin had, instead dunking her head into a bucket of water after donning a robe to protect her dress from any splatter. Nothing says show business like good, clean(ing) fun.
Angela’s husband Michael has some substantial credentials (including over 1300 performances in the Broadway touring company of Jersey Boys) and talent of his own, but Angela was the draw for me, having been captivated by her at a couple Porchlight Music Theater productions, including her Jeff Award-winning tour-de-force as Judy Garland in End of the Rainbow.
Among the other women in Angela’s repertoire is Cher, which reminded me of Stephanie J. Block’s story about finding Cher’s speaking voice for her Tony award-winning performance in The Cher Show. “I happened to be reading lines . . . while I was wearing Crest Whitestrips, and all of a sudden, I was beginning to sound more and more like Cher . . . . So I had to figure out how my mouth was projecting the sound and all the energy once I took the product off. Really, that was the key into how I found her exact sound. Thank you, Oral B!”
The singing aside, one highlight for me was the Ingersolls bringing their Greyhound, Dolly, on stage for a number (the dog didn’t sing) and then announcing that it was time for intermission because it was time for the dog, and perhaps some of the audience members, to pee.
But the most memorable moment of the evening may have been the recreation of the Jennifer Grey leap into Patrick Swayze’s arms while the Ingersolls sang I Had the Time of My Life as their closer. I was ready to be extremely impressed, and was, when the couple wound up doing a jumping chest bump that sent Angela flying backwards onto her butt. Cabaret meets The Three Stooges.
It’s not a smudge on your screen. Klaudia Kudełko’s last name is spelled with a voiceless alveolar lateral fricative that adds a stroke to the L that makes it look like a T (and now I know how to make it magically appear).
The Candlelight Concert series produced by Fever (don’t worry, it’s not related to the coronavirus) presents its artists, as advertised, by candlelight, which meant that Kudełko had to know the music and where the keys were, just as if she were Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, or George Shearing.
Though Kudełko was great, I was disappointed by the fact that the candles spread throughout the room all burned (well shone, not burned, as they were battery-powered, because, after all, it was best that Kudełko’s flying fingers were the only thing on fire) yellow. In particular, I would have liked to have seen different colors of candles on top of the piano, changing in sync with the music as if part of some hallucinogenic dream (which led me to an article on “5 reasons to buy color-changing light bulbs”).
Though the colors were uniform, the candles on the piano were of different sizes, which made me hope that Kudełko also might entertain us with some variation of playing glasses of water with different levels, as in the video of the street musician playing Mozart I found. Maybe it doesn’t work with Chopin.
What does work with Chopin is the Tido Music app (which Kudełko promotes in an online video of her playing part of one of the selections she played at the concert), which hears what you’re playing and automatically turns to the next page of music on your tablet at the appropriate time! Most apps can’t hold a candle to that.
A quiet cab ride is a rarity these days, so as our early A.M. trek to the Grammy Awards started, we were grateful for the meditative ride to Midway Airport. It wasn’t until we turned onto Cicero that the driver punched a few buttons, causing the song “Sailing,” by Christopher Cross, to fill the car. It was a nice sendoff, even though we were flying, not sailing, to L.A. The official Grammy fun began on Sunday, January 26th, when our group met in the lobby of Los Angeles’s Hotel Figueroa – an attractively refurbished YWCA hotel built in 1926. Once gathered, we crossed the street to the Microsoft Theater, where the best show of the day – the Premiere Ceremony – began at 12:30. First stop? Posing in front of a Grammy backdrop.
We were there to cheer for Fanm D’Ayiti (“Women of Haiti,” nominated in the Best World Music Album category), conceived and performed by vocalist, composer, and Juilliard-trained flutist Nathalie Joachim, in collaboration with Chicago’s Spektral Quartet.
On the red carpet: Nathalie Joachim in red dress, with Spektral Quartet members Doyle Armbrust, Clara Lyon, Maeve Feinberg, and Russ Rolen, who were nominated for the third time.
We also made a point of cheering at the mention of any Chicago nominee, such as Third Coast Percussion and the Notorious RBG’s son Jim Ginsburg of Cedille Records. Nathalie, a rising star, was chosen to be a presenter in the Classical category, giving us another opportunity to cheer for her, especially as she stepped onto the stage in a stunning red dress created for her by a New York-based designer with Haitian roots.
Not long after the Premiere Ceremony began, word came that Kobe Bryant had lost his life in a helicopter accident. And almost immediately, the area surrounding the theater – just steps away from the Lakers’ home court – filled with Lakers and Kobe fans, quietly holding a vigil for their lost star. Within hours, thousands had streamed into the area, most of them wearing black jackets over Lakers jerseys bearing the numbers 8 and 24.
As it turned out, Chicago was blanked. Third Coast Percussion was bested by Quartet Attacca, Jim Ginsburg was bested by Blanton Alspaugh, and the Joachim/Spektral collaboration was bested by Angélique Kidjo’s album Celia. (Earlier in the program, Kidjo had managed to bring the entire theater to its feet with an on-stage performance of her lively call-and-response song, “Afrika.”) Being good sports, we still cheered for everyone. And though we weren’t in the theater for the presentation of the “packaging award” Grammys, the world might not complain if the awards for Best Boxed or Special Limited-Edition Package and the Best Recording Package were combined into one – or none. That would free up some space to award a new and eminently more interesting category, such as Best Christmas Song.
During the short break between the Premiere Ceremony and the later, made-for-TV ceremony in the Staples Center, we wove through the hundreds of mourners, paying respect along the way, to grab a salad before heading into the security gates at Staples. Grammy survival tip: stay in a hotel close to the ceremonies, wear incredibly comfortable shoes, pack earplugs, plan for chilly weather, and have a salad waiting for you in your hotel fridge between the awards programs. You’re welcome.
Amid the sequins, creative tuxedos, flowing gowns, and colorful hairdos, something else was on display: a generational transition. It was seen in flashback programming such as the Aerosmith/Run-DMC pairing, juxtaposed over Lil Nas X; Brandi Carlile reviving the career of Tanya Tucker; and the amazing-they’re-still-alive Osbournes as filler between younger presenters. It’s unclear that anyone in the Staples Center understood why the sloppily executed “I Sing the Body Electric,” with dancers barely hitting their marks, was chosen as a tribute to 40-year Grammy Ceremony veteran Ken Erlich, though some probably took it as a sign that someone new might be stepping in as the telecast producer. One of the best throwbacks of the night occurred during the after-party, inside the L.A. Convention Center, when disco diva Gloria Gaynor – backed by a tight, nimble band – belted out an extended performance of “I Will Survive” as hundreds – or possibly thousands – sang along. (O.K., Boomers, you will survive.)
Grammy correspondent hard at work.
If a disconnect between the generations exists, it was seen in the faces of many who looked at each other and said, “What the …?” when Billie Eilish was called to the stage as the winner of the Best Pop Vocal Album. It continued when she was named Best New Artist. And again, for Song of the Year. And Album of the Year. And finally, when she was called from backstage to accept the night’s final award for Record of the Year. At that point, a man (her dad?) seated in the front row of the main floor, next to where Billie had been sitting, literally fell off of his chair and rolled on the floor.
As we scrolled through the headlines the next morning, this short piece, quoted from Billboard magazine, caught our eye: Billie Eilish “became just the second artist in Grammy history — and the first woman — to take home the Big Four awards: album, record and song of the year plus best new artist … The first artist to do this was Christopher Cross, 39 years ago.” Hmmmm, we thought. The album was entitled Christopher Cross. And the hit single? “Sailing.”
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.
