Chicago Sings Stephen Sondheim – Porchlight Music Theatre, at the Museum of Contemporary Art – May 23, 2022

Back when you were still allowed to talk about Woody Allen, people were fond of saying that they preferred his early movies, when he was funny, before Stardust Memories, though there has been good stuff after that, if not of the same madcap variety as say, Bananas.

What does this have to do with Sondheim. Well, I liked his early work better, and, dare I say it, in particular when someone else was writing the music – West Side Story and Gypsy.

But Chicago Sings was about Sondheim, so no Bernstein or Styne tunes. And, because those of us who support the theater are supposed to be aficionados, we were “treated” to a number of songs that the average Joe (not to be confused with last season’s 13-episode TV show I liked but that has not been renewed – again I’m on the wrong side) might not have picked from his other shows.

As for the performances, I will call out Laura Savage (as I have done several times before), who lights up the stage, and Mark David Kaplan, whose Pretty Little Picture as Pseudolus made me laugh (which was permitted in early Sondheim shows).

But enough about substance. The food was good. The registration line not so much. And, thankfully, no one fell down the winding staircase on their way back down to the auditorium for the show after drinking at the reception.

Spring Awakening – Porchlight Music Theatre – April 28, 2022

This was my second opening of the week. I didn’t enjoy it as much as the first day of the new Whole Foods near me the day before.

The performances at both were fine, but, even though it’s not a classic, I prefer the song from the Whole Foods commercial, Every Beat Of My Heart, by the Du-Ettes, to anything I heard in Spring Awakening, even Totally F**ked, which mostly stood out for the impressive one-handed cartwheel one of the actors did during the “dance break.”

Spring Awakening won the 2007 Tony for Best Musical, beating out Curtains, Grey Gardens, and Mary Poppins. For my money, I would have given the award that year to the not-even-nominated Legally Blonde, which, I guess, wasn’t deep enough, but sure was a lot more entertaining.

So I had to find things other than the play’s hit-me-over-the-head messages to think about while waiting for the final curtain.

The intellectual Melchior made me yearn for Michael Fitzsimmons, the biker loner character who spouted poetry in Peggy Sue Got Married.

Melchior’s obsession with Faust reminded me that I still remember, from high school, the first eight lines, in German, of Goethe’s Prolog im Himmel, which I repeated over and over in my mind to help pass the time.

I also thought about Franz Liebkind, whose play, when put in the right hands, turned out to be a lot more fun.

And, finally, I wished, if I were going to see a musical based on a 19th century German children’s story, that it be an adaptation of the Katzenjammer Kids.

Nunsense – Porchlight Music Theatre – November 18, 2021

I first saw Nunsense in 1990 at the now-defunct Wellington Theater. The only thing I remembered about that production was that the cast included Georgia Engel of The Mary Tyler Moore Show fame. I didn’t remember that Ann-Margret played one of the other nuns . . . because she didn’t.

In the first of its three-performance Porchlight Revisits shows this season, the company built upon its upbeat choice of Pump Boys and Dinettes as the season’s still-running first full show, the set of which did double-duty for this show, a usage artfully explained in the dialogue, which also included other newly-added references, such as Ted Lasso and Roku, which, I think, is either some kind of noodle dish or a son of Odin.

I walked out with a smile, but not a program, as the theater emulated the restaurants that now have you scan a bar code to get your menu, which is fine by me except that I must have done something wrong this time, as, at intermission, someone delivered to me something called Udon, which I previously thought was Roku’s brother’s name.

My Week in Review – Presets, Pump Boys & Dinettes

Eight years after buying my car, I finally figured out how to preset the radio, so now I don’t have to keep listening to golden oldies from the 60s, that’s 1860s, when Stephen Foster was the hot songwriter, or try to search for other stations while driving, which, to be fair, has resulted in no more than twelve accidents, none of them fatal. Who says you can’t teach an old dog . . . something, I forget.

I went to see my first play since Grease at the Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre in February 2020, this time Pump Boys & Dinettes at the Porchlight Music Theatre. Thankfully, given my constant need for continuity, Billy Rude appeared in both shows, this time as Jackson, whose leaps in the air while rocking his guitar reminded me of the fact that my vertical jump, once mediocre, is now, not only potentially dangerous, but also probably nonexistent.

I last saw Pump Boys in the mid 1980’s, when its tale of the Double Cupp Diner, lyrically located on Highway 57 (marked down from Dylan’s earlier Highway 61), not only delighted me, but also gave me words to live by with its Be Good or Be Gone, a song with which Melanie Loren, as Rhetta Cupp, in Porchlight’s production, wowed the audience.

By the way, the Cupp sisters, Rhetta and Prudie, who joined together for another highlight, Tips, bear no relation to Cooper Kupp, who is leading the NFL in receptions and touchdowns, though all of their cups runneth over.

Broadway in your Backyard – Porchlight Music Theatre – Washington Square Park – July 18, 2021

If you don’t count Piff the Magic Dragon, and I don’t, the last in-person, no scientist involved, theatrical event (as opposed to instrumental concert, by my definition, which is the only one that counts, as it’s my blog), I had attended before last Sunday was on February 25, 2020. I’m still waiting for the first indoor one, but not until at least the fall, and not anxiously.

In the park I’m surrounded by grass and trees and feel a gentle breeze on my back. In the Ruth Page Auditorium, where Porchlight normally performs, I’m surrounded by the walls of a 1927 building that may or may not have a ventilation system.

At the park event I sat in my own folding chair, which is far more comfortable than any seat at Ruth Page, and placed it so that I didn’t have to rub elbows with strangers exhaling in my immediate vicinity. My view was somewhat limited by overhanging tree foliage, but that’s still better than sitting behind Andre the Giant, which I always wind up doing at the theater, even though he died in 1993.

So, like the groupie I am, I’m looking forward to attending three future Backyard programs in three different parks in August. Have chair will travel.

The Theory of Nothing

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.

New Faces Sing Broadway Now – Arts Club of Chicago – February 25, 2020

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.

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.

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.

Porchlight Revisits Call Me Madam – Porchlight Music Theatre – November 20, 2019

When Irving Berlin first played the counterpoint song You’re Just in Love for Ethel Merman, her reaction was “We’ll never get off the stage.” For those of us who are musically challenged, counterpoint is the relationship between voices that are harmonically interdependent (polyphony) yet independent in rhythm and contour. Whatever the hell that means, Merman was right. It’s a great song.

Donica Lynn, in the Merman role, is the headliner for this three-performance run, and doesn’t disappoint, but Laura Savage stands out for me, as she has done before, this time not only for her acting, singing, and dancing, but also for her gymnastic skills, demonstrated by her forward and backward flips across the stage that earned her a perfect ten from the audience.

The woman behind me, whom I wouldn’t call madam, coughed throughout the show, her emanations unfortunately not blending in like white noise, but rather more like the black plague. At intermission I was going to offer to pay for her ticket if she would leave, but thought better of it out of fear that she might let loose a torrent of invisible fury directly into my face should I confront her.

Michael Weber’s always entertaining Behind The Show Backstory included frequent mention of the show’s authors Russell Crouse and Howard Lindsey, but, surprisingly, didn’t mention, for us trivia buffs, that Crouse named his daughter, the actress we came to know as Lindsey Crouse, after his long-time writing partner. So I was compelled to grab him at intermission to show off my grasp of useless information.

Weber’s half-hour piece, which he flew through without taking a breath, also included mention of George Sanders as General Cosmo Constantine in the movie version, which leads me to remind people that Sanders is not to be confused with his actor-brother Tom Conway, or with actor John Williams, as can easily happen when half-comatose, watching old movies late at night.