Musical Pleasures Power 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch' but Excessive Monologues Shortchange the Electricity -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

National Tour

Oriental Theatre, Chicago

Thru March 19

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Until last week, when I began to do reconnaissance on Hedwig and the Angry Inch in anticipation of seeing it Tuesday night at the Oriental Theatre, my familiarity was cursory at best.

Though now remedied on all accounts, I hadn't seen the musical onstage, watched the movie or heard the music.

There's no good reason for this, as even in 1998--when the musical written by John Cameron Mitchell with music & lyrics by Stephen Trask first ran Off-Broadway--or soon thereafter, I was already quite a fan of punk rock, David Bowie, Alice Cooper, the New York Dolls, Iggy Pop, the musical Rent and other clear points of reference, though never too greatly The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Perhaps because it always seemed akin to something else, I would have guessed  Hedwig dated back well before 1998. And maybe I never paid much attention, at any point, because it always felt like something I should have known of earlier.

Photo credit on all: Joan Marcus

But my crash course--until I actually saw the musical onstage--was one of genuine delight.

I liked what I gleaned of the show's premise, synopsis and title character based on a Wikiperusal, and enjoyed the movie, in which John Cameron Mitchell plays Hedwig as he originally did Off-Broadway.

And I loved the music, based on listening--repeatedly, but really only over a few days--to both the Original Cast Recording with Mitchell and even more so, the 2014 Broadway Cast starring Neil Patrick Harris.

The current tour is based on that revival and likewise directed by Michael Mayer, who had helmed Spring Awakening. The production was nominated for eight Tony Awards in 2014 and won four--including Best Revival of a Musical--with a terrific performance clip from the Tonys only adding to my anticipation.

So by the time I got to the resplendent Oriental Theatre--I am beguiled anew by the beauty of the venue every time I visit--I had quickly gone from being fairly clueless about Hedwig and the Angry Inch to being quite smitten with what I knew of the material.

...including much of the show's somewhat confusing conceit and storyline centered around Hedwig, who had been Hansel Schmidt, a "slip of a girlyboy" growing up in East Berlin, where--without a father and mistreated by his mother--he discovered American rock 'n roll and fell in love with a U.S. soldier.

The story is told onstage by Hedwig, so I won't reveal much more of it, but I imagine it could be hard-to-follow for the uninitiated, so reading Wikipedia ahead of time isn't a bad idea.

Having had a botched sex change operation that left her with an "angry inch," Hedwig now wears Ziggyesque makeup and a blond wig and--as the musical opens--she & her band (including her husband Yitzhak) are shadowing the much bigger tour of a rock star named Tommy Gnosis.

I knew all this and more going in to the show, and I truly assumed I was going to absolutely love it, given how much I liked Trask's entire score.

Yet while appreciating the performance of Euan Morton as Hedwig, being empathetic to the character's travails and entirely receptive to the musical's underlying messaging and pathos, the truth is the music is all I really wound up loving.

From my research--including watching the movie, which understandably differs a bit--I hadn't caught on that no characters are embodied onstage except for Hedwig and Yitzhak (played here by Hannah Corneau, who I had seen in the title role of Evita last year at Marriott Theatre Lincolnshire), along with four bandmates who, like Yitzhak, say little or nothing.

So except for the musical numbers, many of which are quite delectable, the entire show running nearly two hours with no intermission is a monologue by Hedwig.

Initially, and at times throughout, Hedwig's rhetoric is charming, endearing, revelatory, ribald and--though I missed most of the punchlines from the upper balcony of a theater way too big for this show--quite humorous.

But after the show essentially begins with a blistering "Tear Me Down"--which, for all the disparate musical allusions of Hedwig, sounds oddly gleaned from Poison's "Nothing But a Good Time" and Matthew Sweet's "Girlfriend"--nearly a half-hour goes by before another song is played.

By any measure, the Scottish Morton embodies Hedwig well, but not only did his vocal timbre not equal what I had heard from Mitchell and Harris, his lack of a known persona likely eroded all the talking of some cheeky, breaking-the-fourth-wall fun. (I feel obliged to note that Chicago Tribune theater critic Chris Jones, in his rave, 4-star (out of 4) review of this production extolled Morton for not being "too famous to ever get in his singular character's way," but I really think a known star might have helped.)

For the most part, musical numbers like "The Origins of Love," "Sugar Daddy," the wondrous "Wig in a Box," "Wicked Little Town" and the closing "Midnight Radio" were blissful.

So it wasn't as if I didn't have an enjoyable time at Hedwig and the Angry Inch, but I think I would have been far more enraptured with simply a Hedwig concert, devoid of all the oratory.

Certainly I get that the backstory of Hedwig's compelling character comes from her own voice, but especially with Trask's strong lyrics, I'm not sure why so much is spoken and not sung.

Or, as in the movie, why some of the other characters involved in Hedwig's tales aren't cast and acted out. 

Let me say here that, from Eddie Vedder to Bruce Springsteen to Bono, I love when rock stars do a considerable amount of speaking from the concert stage. But as the conceit of Hedwig and the Angry Inch is that we are watching a performance--or perhaps a string of them--I can't deny at multiple junctures thinking, "Shut up and sing!"

I also have to believe that had I not come into the Oriental knowing much of the narrative, conceit, music and song lyrics, I would have largely been lost, particularly if I were feeling a bit of weeknight grogginess that can often beset the after work crowd in the upper reaches.

Seeing Hedwig completely cold may well have rendered me even more lukewarm.

As it stands, if you love Hedwig and the Angry Inch as a stage musical, this seems like a rather strong rendition, albeit without some of the star power you might appreciate. (After NPH exited the title role on Broadway, Michael C. Hall, Taye Diggs and John Cameron Mitchell himself were among those who assumed it.)

If like me, you're smitten by the music and movie, I'd still recommend Hedwig, but far less enthusiastically than I imagined.

Though the music is great, and concept unique--albeit in a Ziggy Stardust vein--I rather surprisingly and distressingly didn't find Hedwig and the Angry Inch to be a great musical. 

So for more traditional Broadway musical lovers, perhaps largely oblivious to date, although there is much to appreciate about Hedwig, it may not be your cup of tea. (The Oriental was near capacity on Tuesday night, conceivably because this show was part of the Hamilton subscription series. It's wrong to peg fans of the latter musical as traditionalists, but I did note some patrons walking out on Hedwig.)

Raw Photos: Documenting a Night of Wrestling (with my conscience) -- WWE Raw, Allstate Arena, March 6, 2017

I am not, nor have I ever been, much of a fan of professional wrestling.

To say that I have never watched WWE or its counterparts on TV would be a lie, and indeed I know many of the most famous names in "sports" entertainment.

But I don't think I've ever seen a full program of wrestling until I attended--on a whim--WWE Raw on Monday night at Allstate Arena, just outside Chicago.

It seemed like something to do.

Once.

No, I didn't know who most of the wrestlers were, and the ones I did--Goldberg, Brock Lesner, Chris Jericho, The Undertaker--didn't wrestle full matches. (Mick Foley was also on hand but is no longer a wrestler.)

Basically it seemed like the evening's card--and running nearly 4 hours, I could have easily done with just half--existed to (continue to) set up, promote and extend grudges to be settled at the next installment of WrestleMania, on April 2.

I won't be watching.

But that's why the big names on hand at Allstate--seemingly including one younger guy named Roman Reigns--tossed each other around momentarily, but didn't actually wrestle full matches.

And the name the sold out crowd chanted most--CM Punk, a former champion hailing from Chicago--hasn't been with WWE for three years, due to health issues and resultant disputes.

As someone who loves both sports and theater, I can somewhat understand the massive, longstanding appeal of professional wrestling as an amalgamation of the two.

It was rather endearing to see a good number of dads with their children, whether actually kids or young men with developmental issues.

And I liked noting the goings-on pertaining to the live TV broadcast (on USA Network), including layers of ring canvases being stripped away for each match. That makes perfect sense, given scantily attired men--and for one way-too-long match, women--rolling around in the ring, but I had never given it any thought.

But that the coolest moment of the night came at the end (after the telecast, unless it extended past 10:00pm) when The Undertaker--nearly 52-years-old and slowed by multiple surgeries in recent years--made an appearance to grand pyrotechnics and thunderous applause, might suggest that the WWE would do well to find some interesting new characters.

Anyway, I'm glad I went and--while not being any more enthralled than I expected--found it fun enough and pretty well-paced despite the length.

If nothing else, it made for a collection of photographs I will share below.

A Frightful Interrogation: World Premiere 'Skin for Skin' Probes the Terror of Torture -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Skin for Skin
a world premiere play
by Paul Pasulka
directed by Michael Menendian
Agency Theater Collective
at Rivendell Theatre, Chicago
Thru April 2
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Right or wrong. Good or bad. Acceptable or inappropriate.

The delineations may seem abundantly clear and deceptively easy, particularly when pontificating in peaceful environs.

But without meaning to condone or excuse egregious acts of police brutality or military torture, it's a lot harder to presume the "proper" course of action for those actually in the thick of things.

Or, therefore, to have an immutable sense of righteousness.

Though both an idealist and pacifist, I also value my security and intrinsically assume--without wanting to give it too much thought--that brave men and women do things that I would probably abhor in order to keep me, and millions of others, safe.

As reprehensible as Jack Nicholson's Colonel Jessup character is in A Few Good Men, there's also much truth within the assertions of his famed "You can't handle the truth!" courtroom diatribe.

And great drama can powerfully explore the dichotomy between disparate beliefs and conflicting realities.

The best plays somehow seem to do so without taking sides, while making one see things from new perspectives.

Unfortunately, while the Agency Theater Collective's world premiere of Paul Pasulka's Skin for Skin is an estimable effort from all involved--including the playwright, who is a clinical psychologist--I found its narrative too straightforwardly presented to be as dramatically rich or intellectually arresting as I would have hoped.

Fictionally-derived from the torture conducted at Abu Ghraib prison by U.S. Army personnel during the Iraq War, Skin for Skin features Col. Lewis (well-played by Tony St. Clair, though the character himself seems straight out of central casting) overseeing the torturous interrogation of Ayyub (Steve Silver, excellent here), a Muslim Iraqi-American contractor.

As I know mainly from having read it in the show's press release, Ayyub is supposed to represent the biblical Job, and the torture he endures is clearly brutal and barbaric. I wasn't clear--and I wouldn't reveal it anyway--if he is ultimately shown to be complicit in an act of deadly terrorism, yet as depicted here, the interrogation methods are humanely indefensible.

To feel better about his tactics, Col. Lewis--who is clearly just one cog in a chain of command that goes way above him--enlists an Army psychologist named Dr. O'Brien (Shariba Rivers is quite good, and I'd be curious if the script specifies an African-American woman for the role, which adds depth) who is versed in the appropriate forms and degrees of "interrogation," but unable or unwilling to become much of a roadblock to the Colonel or the troops carrying out his orders.

The seven character play--at least 2 or 3 of whom don't feel all that utilized or necessary--also features some nice dialogue between a pair of soldiers involved with the interrogation/torture, Sgt. Lindsey (Hannah Tarr) and Pvt. Michaels (David Goodloe).

All of the acting is stellar and director Michael Menendian--who heads the Raven Theatre--makes strong use of the Rivendell space, a storefront on Ridge Road.

Even if I didn't love Skin for Skin, seeing it only furthered my regard for those who created it--and everyone in the Chicago theater community--as the considerable talent and effort involved in writing, staging, designing, casting, directing, performing and publicizing it was readily apparent.

That I've been attending Chicago theater at all levels quite voluminously for 17 years and this was my first foray to the Rivendell or familiarity with the Agency Theater Collective certainly bespeaks the incredible depth of theatrical practitioners in our midst.

I was invited to attend & review this show, and actually feel somewhat amiss that I am unable to lavish great praise on it.

For certainly there is much to admire in simply its existence.

But unless I terribly misread things--which may speak to other problems with the script--it appears that a brutish lout of a colonel prescribes the brutal torture of a decent Muslim man, with soldiers and even a psychologist forced into complicity.

Without pretending to be a playwright or a psychologist, I think it may have been much more interesting for both the colonel and the man being interrogated to be far less overt. Perhaps the colonel could be more sensitive and introspective, while still feeling compelled to torture Ayyub, because as Lewis does say:

"What we do, we do to prevent harm."

Though a somewhat similar scenario was recently presented in Northlight's world premiere of Faceless--where a white teenage girl joins ISIS and is prosecuted by a Muslim attorney--I also couldn't help but wonder here:

"What if the Col. Lewis and Ayyub characters were directly switched?"

To see a studious, sensitive Muslim-American U.S. Army Colonel wrestling with the propriety of torturing a possibly duplicitous white contractor might have helped me better appreciate the complex nature of gleaning vital information from uncooperative sources.

As it is, while Skin to Skin is well-acted and staged, I can't say I found it all that riveting, revelatory or challenging to my thinking coming in.

But especially as a world premiere, it's possible to imagine its many worthwhile elements being refined into something far more compelling.

Flights of Fancy: A Photographic Foray Through Chicago's Rather Illustrious Fine Arts Building

In my previous post, I reviewed a Chicago Opera Theater world premiere production of The Invention of Morel, which I saw in the beautifully refurbished Studebaker Theater within the Fine Arts Building.

Given my love of Chicago architecture, arts, history, theater and cinema, this was somewhat surprisingly my first venture inside the building at 410 S. Michigan, also known as the Studebaker Building, as it was built in 1885 to display and sell carriages made by the Studebaker Company.

After extensive remodeling in 1898, the building came to house many artist studios, instrument makers/sellers and other businesses pertaining to the fine arts. I mentioned "cinema" above as the building had housed the Fine Arts Theaters from 1982-2000, with all screens now removed in the spaces turned into the Studebaker Theater and the World Playhouse.

With at least one sheet music store and a bookstore open to the public, even on a Sunday afternoon, I was able to take the manned elevator to the building's top floor--where beautiful murals remain from the 19th century--and work my way down to the ground level, where one enters the Studebaker Theater.

I did not venture into any studios or offices, most of which were closed along with the intriguing L.H. Selman gallery of fine art paperweights.

Open studios are available for the public to peruse on the second Friday of each month, from 5:00pm-9:00pm, and I'm sure a deft photographer with the right permissions could create a rather compelling gallery of artists and students at work within the Fine Arts Building.

But simply from an art and architecture standpoint--including glorious carvings throughout--I was pretty dazzled with what I saw. And hence the collection of photos below.

"Just a Cast Away, an Island Lost at Sea...": Even with Police References Merely in My Head, Stewart Copeland's 'Invention of Morel' Opera Proves Quite Arresting -- Chicago Opera Review

Theater / Opera Review

The Invention of Morel
a world premiere opera
Music by Stewart Copeland
Libretto by Stewart Copeland & Jonathan Moore
Directed by Jonathan Moore
Chicago Opera Theater
at the Studebaker Theater, Chicago
February 18, 24, 26 (run ended)
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A few years ago, I wrote a thesis-like (though not nearly that long) blog post about what I dubbed "Associative Learning," and its seeming erosion.

In it, I theorized about how, when I had to do school reports back in the early 1980s, the acts of riding my bike through town to the public library, stopping for lunch and at the local record store, meandering through two floors of the library to the encyclopedia shelves and perusing World Book and Encyclopedia Britannica well beyond the subject at hand, undoubtedly introduced me to things in ways that much more targeted & precise internet-based research may not as readily prompt kids today to broaden their horizons.

Though I don't have kids of my own and haven't been able to regularly monitor the accuracy of my hypothesis, I still believe it to have validity.

Yet, rather than thinking myself an internet or technology Luddite, I realize the infinite possibilities the web has to empower flights of curiosity.

The trick is finding the impetus for inspiration.

Which brings me to a review of a world premiere opera called The Invention of Morel, whose brief Chicago run ended with the performance I saw. As a work co-commissioned by Chicago Opera Theater and Long Beach Opera, it will supposedly be staged in Long Beach, California next March.

So although I thought the opera in was largely terrific, this review won't provide much acute benefit to anyone. I don't even see specific dates announced for the Long Beach Opera, so it's not like you can even plan a Spring 2018 California trek just yet.

Hence, while I will give a rundown of the opera as best I can, and why I enjoyed it, I think the associative learning backstory is also worth sharing.

For decades, but again somewhat acutely over the past few weeks, I have been fascinated by old movie theaters, with the extant ones around Chicagoland largely now serving as performing arts venues.

Some internet exploring, on the excellent Cinema Treasures website and elsewhere--including the hypnotic Historic Aerials site--brought me to this article about grand renovations to the Studebaker Theater in the Fine Arts Building.

I was familiar with the Fine Arts Building, at 410 S. Michigan in Chicago, having had cinemas showing art-house movies during my lifetime, but not for years.

So it was fascinating to learn of resurrection of the Studebaker Theater--the building itself was built to sell & service Studebaker carriages in the late 19th century--and it was only through the theater's website that I came across The Invention of Morel.

My initial interest was in finding anything on the Studebaker's event calendar that might give me
reason to visit the theater, but learning about the opera itself was intriguing.

As I've written too many times to reiterate in depth here, I appreciate opera to the point of having formerly been a Lyric Opera of Chicago subscriber, and still try to get to 1-3 operas per year, but don't emotionally ingest the art form enough to call myself an opera buff.

Thus, a brand new, 90-minute opera, sung in English and written by Stewart Copeland of The Police--a defunct rock band I really like--seemed especially appealing.

I almost bought a ticket right then and there, about 3 weeks ago, but thought that I should see if A) ticket discounts would be offered on HotTix, Goldstar or TodayTix; B) the first performance got a good review; and C) the winter weather in Chicago wouldn't be too challenging.

There were no discounts offered for the first performance on February 18, but through Goldstar the Feb. 24 & 26 shows were nicely priced. And even after the Chicago Tribune's esteemed classical music critic John von Rhein gave The Invention of Morel 4 stars (out of 4), I was able to snag a nice balcony seat for just $29 + fees.

Though not quite the 65 degree weather last week saw in Chicago--followed three days later by 20 degree weather--Sunday was fairly mild.

I got downtown in time to enjoy a nice waffle at BeeZzee Fresh Food on Wabash and make my way to the Fine Arts Building, still plenty early.

With permission, I took an elevator to the top floor and walked down the entire beautiful building; so lovely--and unseen by me previously--that I'll dedicate an upcoming blog post simply to photos of it. True to the name, tenants include violin makers, various studios, a sheet music seller and bookstore, etc. This in itself would have made for a worthy excursion. 

Then at 2pm, I attended a pre-opera talk by Chicago Opera Theater artistic director--and the opera's conductor--Andreas Mitisek, along with the co-librettist and director Jonathan Moore, who has an impressive list of credits, mostly in his native England. (If Stewart Copeland was on hand, I was never aware.)

This was quite insightful and--along with von Rhein's review and other background info--really helped prepare me for what I was about to see.

Previously unbeknownst to me, The Invention of Morel, written by Argentinean Adolfo Bioy Casares in 1940, remains one of the most famed and beloved novels in Latin America.

It, and therefore the opera, concerns itself with a fugitive arriving on a seemingly deserted island, only to discover a number of well-heeled tourists already there and acting rather mysteriously.

One of these is a beautiful woman named Faustine--yes, like Faust, though not overtly devilish--with whom the fugitive becomes smitten, even more so as she resists his advances. (Author Bioy Casares based Faustine on American silent film star Louise Brooks, with whom he was smitten from afar.)

You should read the book if you wish to know all of what unfolds, but per the title, an inventor named Morel is central, with a rather beguiling device that the fugitive ultimately discovers.

As Moore helpfully explained beforehand, he and Copeland decided to deviate from the book slightly by adding a Narrator (Lee Gregory), who largely sings the narrative as a recollection of events, while the Fugitive (Andrew Wilkowske) observes what happens as he encounters it. Both characters represent the same person and shadow each other throughout.

The singing is in operatic voices, which while artistically remarkable--and top tier here as far as I could tell--still didn't allow the whole thing to connect with me like great musical theater does.

And despite the rather brief running time, I can deny there were some points where my attention--and eyelids--began to flutter.

But the propulsive, rhythm heavy score by Copeland--long one of my favorite drummers--became truly exciting and scintillating, especially toward the end.

I had learned that this was the fifth opera Copeland has written, and following his success with the Police--who initially broke up in 1986 before a 2007-08 reunion tour--he has written numerous film scores.

So I certainly wasn't expecting to hear Police songs or familiar refrains, nor was this--unlike Sting's recent The Last Ship musical--meant to be an autobiographical affair. (Moore explained that Copeland's daughter had recommended The Invention of Morel adaptation.)

But due to associative strains merely within my own brain, given the fugitive's arrival on a supposedly deserted island--which one can see enacted in an Invention of Morel virtual reality app created in conjunction with the opera--I couldn't help but conjure up Police gems like "Message in a Bottle" and "So Lonely."

And as the fugitive watches and pursues the beautiful Faustine (Valerie Vinzant, clearly lovely even from the Studebaker balcony sans forgotten binoculars), my mind went to "Every Breath You Take" and "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da."

Perhaps I haven't done the best job of detailing why, but I really enjoyed The Invention of Morel at face value.

And with Mitisek and Moore holding a post-show Q&A--that still let me get home in plenty of time for the Oscars--I liked the entire experience, and everything associated with it, even more.

Looking Back Locally: Recapping Recent Visits to the Evanston History Center / Dawes House and Wilmette Historical Museum

Charles Gates Dawes House, Evanston, IL

Museum Visit Recaps

Evanston History Center
in the Charles G. Dawes House
House Tour, Permanent Collection
and Special Exhibit to March 16: Through Darkness to Light: Photographs Along the Underground Railroad
Website

Wilmette Historical Museum
Permanent Collection, Special Event: Lecture by Former Major Leaguer Mike Huff (held on n Feb. 12) and Special Exhibit to May 7: Sox vs. Cubs: The Chicago Civil Wars
Website

I live in a condominium in Skokie, Illinois, but am so close to the town of Wilmette that Google Maps and Yahoo Weather often think I live there.

Now, and for a good part of my life--as I grew up just five minutes from where I presently live--the city of Evanston has also been just a few feet away, much closer than most of my hometown of Skokie.

Wilmette Historical Museum

I like and appreciate Skokie but have also made considerable use of the neighboring towns, including their libraries, movie theaters, CTA stations, parks, restaurants, beaches, fireworks displays and much more. 

Because of its size, diverse cosmopolitan feel and being home to Northwestern University, Evanston has been particularly enriching in cultural opportunities, including musical performances by NU students, and a variety of theater troops and venues.

I've long known of the orange-bricked Charles G. Dawes home near the beach north of Dempster Street, once the residence of an early 20th Century U.S. Vice President and now a tourable mansion housing the Evanston History Center (EHC).

But I was never inspired to visit it until the other week.

Dawes House

Mind you, in recent years, I'd visited the Skokie Heritage Center, Niles Historical Museum, Lake County Discovery Center and the Wilmette Historical Museum, which I had cause to revisit the other day (more on this in a moment).

And its not like I haven't made a point of visiting hundreds of museums, mansions, churches and other intriguing attractions, globally and locally.

Heck, before finally venturing to the Dawes House, I even discovered and visited the American Toby Jug Museum in Evanston.

But on a recent afternoon, I cajoled my mom into joining me for a history and architecture lesson, and we both enjoyed the multifaceted visit.

Tours of the house are conducted every day that it's open, and an informative docent named Bill pointed out key features of the impressive house, while giving some background about Charles Gates Dawes.

Dawes--whose Wikipedia entry is fairly intriguing--wasn't an Evanston native. He was born (in 1865) and raised in Marietta, Ohio, graduated from Marietta College and Cincinnati Law School, and practiced law in Lincoln, Nebraska from 1887-1894, where he met both William Jennings Bryan and John Pershing, the latter becoming a lifelong friend.

Married to Caro Blymer, Dawes' business interests included Midwestern gas plants, including Northwestern Light & Gas Co. in Evanston.

The home that is now a museum was designed by H. Edwards Ficken and built in 1895 for a Northwestern University Treasurer named Robert Sheppard, who our docent noted had unrealized ambitions to be become the school's president.

He put the Chateauesque style house on the market in 1908 for $150,000 and sold it to the Dawes family for half of that. Charles Dawes would live there until his death in 1951, and following his wife's passing in 1957, the home was donated to Northwestern University to house the Evanston Historical Society, which it has since 1960.

In 2009, the mansion was donated by Northwestern to the organization now known as Evanston History Center.

For a $10 admission, one can take a tour of the house--largely in the way Dawes left it, but with additional artifacts and information pertaining to him--and see permanent collections relating to Evanston's history, plus Special Exhibits (currently one of photographs by Jeanine Michna-Bales along the Civil War's Underground Railroad).

Dawes worked on William McKinley's 1896 Presidential campaign--in which he beat William Jennings Bryan--and as Comptroller of the U.S. Treasury until McKinley's assassination in 1901. (Bill pointed out that after Lincoln in 1865 and Garfield in 1881, this meant three U.S. Presidents had been killed in office over the course of just 36 years.)

In 1917, in his 50s, Dawes enlisted in the Army to aid in World War I, and under his old pal General Pershing, served as Brigadier General.

Hence, prominent in the house, there are busts of Pershing, French Prime Minister Georges
Clemenceau and other WWI leaders, though notably not U.S. President at the time, Woodrow Wilson, a Democrat.

A hardcore Republican, Dawes was the 1924 running mate of Calvin Coolidge, the sitting President after the 1923 death of Warren G. Harding.

Dawes served as U.S. Vice President from 1925-1929, co-won the 1925 Nobel Peace Prize for his work on World War I reparations and was the United States' Ambassador to the United Kingdom from 1929-32.

He was also a self-taught pianist and composer, and in 1912 wrote "Melody in A Major," a popular instrumental to which lyrics were added by Carl Sigman in 1951, transforming the song into "It's All in the Game." Tommy Edwards' recording of "It's All in the Game" was a #1 hit on in the fall of 1958, posthumously making Dawes the only vice president to be credited with a No. 1 pop hit.

Learning about all this, and seeing the nicely appointed house--including a kitchen with a somewhat odd ceiling--would have made for a rewarding visit in itself, with thanks again to the docent, Bill.

But the next hour at the house was just as intriguing, with exhibits on Evanston covering everything from the city's rise around Northwestern University, to the 1860 crash of a passenger steamer that took 300 lives and led to the building of the Gross Pointe Lighthouse, to a chair Abraham Lincoln is said to have sat in, to displays on Evanstonians of note.

Though I've long known of famed suffragist Frances Willard (of the Women's Christian Temperance Union) and modern acting families like the Cusacks and Pivens, I was intrigued to learn that Evanston has also been home to Tinker Toys, Orange Crush, Pelouze postage scales and Marvin Glass, inventor of toys such as Operation, Lite-Brite and Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em Robots.

As a lover of old theaters, I enjoyed a display of artifacts from the Varsity, which still stands on Sherman Ave., although it now contains storefronts, including The Gap.

And appreciating that Evanston has long been a highly integrated suburb, I valued reading about various African-American pioneers, politicians and community leaders, such as William H. Twiggs, Dr. Isabella Garnett Butler, Edwin B. Jourdain Jr., Fred Hutcherson Jr. and the Hon. Lorrain Hairston Morton, among others.

There is also, rather chillingly--in a display with artifacts pertaining to Abraham Lincoln--a shackle from a slave ship.  

This could help but add resonance to the single gallery containing recent photographs by Jeanine Michna-Bales of Underground Railroad locales and buildings employed to help escaped slaves.

Several photos are quite compelling and the small exhibit is inherently important.

But with several pictures being intentionally underlit, and rather little accompanying text provided, the Special Exhibit, Through Darkness to Light: Photographs Along the Underground Railroad, isn't as extensive or informative as I had hoped.

It's worth a look for anyone who makes their way to the EHC by March 16 but perhaps not reason enough for a special visit.  

I'll post a few more photos from the Evanston History Center/Dawes House below, but also want to loop in a visit I made the same week to the Wilmette Historical Museum on Ridge Rd., a few blocks south of Lake Street.

Familiar with the museum from a nice program I attended in 2015 by a retired architect who wrote a book called 999: A History of Chicago in Ten Stories, the impetus this time was a talk by Mike Huff, a Wilmette resident who played in the major leagues for parts of 7 seasons, including the White Sox in 1991-93.

It was fun hearing Huff reminisce about his days playing at Roemer Park--a spiffy Little League field quite close to where I live and (as a museum photo shows; see below) somewhere Bill Murray also once played--and attending New Trier, where he also played QB on the football team, as well as basketball.

Currently a VP of the Bulls Sox Academy, he encouraged parents to let their kids play multiple sports, not just the one with the seemingly brightest prospects.

Huff was quite proud of having attended Northwestern--he played alongside Joe Girardi--where his education and perceived business income potential persuaded him to turn down his first pro ball offer.

Subsequently he was drafted by the Dodgers in 16th round and--per funny stories he shared--endured some grueling bus trips in the minors, for relatively measly pay, before his tendency to hit .300 and steal 30+ bases earned him a chance in "the show."

With great detail, Huff proudly recalled getting a hit in his first at bat, against future Hall of Famer, Tom Glavine.

Huff's appearance on February 12 was tied to an ongoing Special Exhibit,  Sox vs. Cubs: The Chicago Civil Wars, which was created by the Elmhurst Historical Museum and in Wilmette until May 12.

The museum, exhibit and program I attended were all free, so well worth the time and effort for me. (Note that this upcoming baseball program has a $5 fee for non-members.)

Though the exhibit has some nice memorabilia, and interactive opportunities to hear famed broadcasters, I can't say it's unique or extensive enough to be worth a really long drive. (It should pair well with writer Richard Rothschild's March 12 lecture on The Sox vs. Cubs Rivalry.)

But along with a nice but limited permanent collection--I liked the photo of Bill Murray's baseball team and artifacts from long-gone parts of the Plaza del Lago shopping area, including Teatro del Lago--the Cubs & Sox display makes more an engaging visit for those of us who live in the area.

And along with the Evanston History Center/Dawes House, the Wilmette Historical Museum reiterated the value in surveying the past within lovingly curated--and often volunteer staffed--institutions.

Rather close to home.

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As promised, here are a few more photos, all from the Evanston History Center, except as noted:

 

Abraham Lincoln supposedly sat in this chair during a visit to Evanston.

Artifacts from extinct businesses at Wilmette's extant Plaza del Lago

Photo of a Wilmette Little League team from 1962; Bill Murray is second from the right in the back row.

Sox vs. Cubs: The Chicago Civil Wars Special Exhibit, Wilmette Historical Museum