'The Invasion of Skokie' Doesn't Quite Hit Home

Theater Review


The Invasion of Skokie
a play by Steven Peterson
Chicago Dramatists
Through October 10, 2010
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When I invaded, from Skokie, the Chicago Dramatists' theater for a world premiere drama penned by one of their network playwrights, I had high expectations to take in substantive new work of considerable personal significance.

Not only is Chicago Dramatists a great resource for developing talented new writers--most notably of recent vintage, Keith Huff, whose 'A Steady Rain' ran on Broadway with Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig--but in addition to being a current resident of Skokie, I grew up there.

As a child under the age of 10, I likely didn't grasp the full significance when a group of "Illinois Nazis" requested permission to march & demonstrate in Skokie in 1977-78, and upon being denied, enlisted the ACLU to represent them all the way up to the U.S. Supreme Court. But I was aware--and later became far more so--that Skokie at the time was a village where a vast majority of the population (roughly 40,000 of 70,000 residents) was Jewish, with about one-sixth of the Jews being Holocaust survivors.

I more acutely remember when the Nazis came to demonstrate in Evanston's Lovelace Park, about a 5-minute walk from my family's Skokie home, in October 1980 (I didn't attend, but still recall it being discussed at Hebrew school) and when the events of 1977-78--which ended with the Nazis ultimately gaining permission to march, sans swastikas, but canceling two days prior to the planned demonstration and opting to instead appear in Chicago--were depicted in the 1981 TV movie Skokie, starring Danny Kaye and Eli Wallach. (This is a fairly good chronology from the Skokie Historical Society website of what actually happened; this is a Time article on the legal battle from June 26, 1978)

This unseemly but unifying bit of local history inspired several of the survivors in town to open a Holocaust museum, which ultimately morphed into much larger one that bowed last year with visits from Elie Wiesel and Bill Clinton. Preceding the new museum's grand opening, the Chicago Tribune Magazine featured a long and quite informative background piece written by Howard Reich, the Trib's jazz critic who grew up in Skokie as the son of Holocaust survivors.

So when a friend recommended we see The Invasion of Skokie, which got a positive review from the Tribune's Chris Jones, I was really looking forward to it.

Photo Credit: Jeff Pines

Before I even entered the theater, on the window I read another press clipping from the Chicago Sun-Times in which the playwright Steven Peterson says, "It's not a history play. It's a play about one family, and the march serves as an intensifier for their story." So I knew it wasn't going to be too similar to the movie 'Skokie,' which I recently re-watched, and perhaps not quite what I was expecting, but I went in with an open mind.

'The Invasion of Skokie' started out successfully enough. The best set I've ever seen at Chicago Dramatists realistically depicted a local home and backyard, and with strong performances from everyone in the five-person cast, I thought the first act was pretty strong, if not quite perfectly nuanced.

But by the end of Act 2, I left rather disappointed that Peterson's attempt to weave a melodramatic family plot involving a proposed inter-faith marriage--rendered far more poignantly years ago in 'Fiddler On The Roof'--with a recounting of the outrage (and for some, call to arms) that accompanied the Nazis almost coming to Skokie had struck a discordant note on both strands. Though not quite as bad, The Invasion of Skokie reminded me of Rebecca Gilman's disastrous 'A True History of the Johnstown Flood,' where a truer history would've been far more compelling than a convoluted weaving of factual & fictional narratives.

A good deal of Peterson's intertwined arcs just rang untrue, and while I hopefully won't give much away--unlike a tidbit in the press about the play, which ruined the tension of a key moment--I came away feeling that the main character, Morry Kaplan, in objecting to his daughter's engagement to a "Shabbes goy" long beloved by the family and then heading off to meet the Nazis with rifle in hand (stupidly dressed like Elmer Fudd for some reason), demonstrated self-righteous indignance nearly as ugly as the bigotry of the unseen Nazis. (Although the distinction may not have mattered to anyone indelibly scarred by the sight of swastikas, the idiots in Nazi uniforms were technically the National Socialist Party of America, led by Frank Collin, who was ousted from leadership when it was revealed his father was a Jew who claimed to have been a prisoner at the Dachau concentration camp.)

Photo Credit: Jeff Pines

Morry is clearly identified as having lived his whole life in Chicago and thus not himself a camp survivor nor a European Jew who escaped persecution. Certainly, all Jews--really all humans--should detest and decry what Hitler and his minions did, and anyone who espouses such venomous anti-Semitism, but the rage-cum-rifle toting machismo Peterson instills in Morry is not only criminal and anti-constitutional, it feels like piggybacked vigilantism next to the innate fear, revulsion and rebellion of those with numbers tattooed on their arms, many of whom--as depicted by Danny Kaye in 'Skokie'--saw their loved ones murdered before their eyes.

At the end of the night, I never really bought Morry as an inherently anguished Jew--his faith never seems all that central to him--fearing for his family's safety or fighting to uphold their Jewish identity as much as simply a belligerent asshole who lashes out to prop up his skewed, ever-diminishing sense of purpose. While most fictional works are open to interpretation, I'm guessing this wasn't quite the intent of playwright Peterson or director Richard Perez.

I realize that this is extremely tricky subject matter for any writer to tackle, for it's almost antithetical to suggest to anyone--even ourselves--when and where logic should supersede emotion, especially in regards to issues of race, religion and self-preservation. From a legal, First Amendment standpoint, to say the Nazis should have been prohibited from demonstrating in Skokie due to people hating what they espoused is congruent to suggesting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. should have been disallowed from staging civil rights demonstrations to which bigots violently objected. Or, though the parallel is far from exact, that peaceful Muslims should be precluded from building a mosque in downtown Manhattan because of how loudly certain factions may be shouting it down.

So I applaud Peterson for attempting to pull off, at worst, a challenging, thought-provoking play with a bit of originality. The acting by Mick Weber, Cindy Gold, Tracey Kaplan, Michael Joseph Mitchell and Bradford R. Lund is all first-rate, as is the scenery. And given my high regard for the Chicago Dramatists, combined with the substantive nature of 'The Invasion of Skokie,' I wouldn't suggest that anyone inclined to see it should stay away. But as a play that tries--albeit in a roundabout way--to get to the heart of my hometown's most historical moment, it just didn't hit me where I live.

Songs in the Key of London

My friend Paolo is in London and keeps raving about it on Facebook, posting more frequently and effusively over just two days than he did during 8 days in Italy, a country he loves dearly. And in an email communique, he stated, "When it is all said and done, this is my favorite city in the world."

Not only is this high praise from someone who had just been in Rome, Florence and Venice, but Paolo has visited more places than anyone I know--including virtually every major global city--and has even lived in a whole bunch. Like me, he loves Chicago, where he now resides, and is never quiet about his passion for Boston, where he went to high school and college.

So really, the city of London should put Paolo's proclamation on banners in Hyde Park. And though I haven't traveled quite as widely, I've been to my fair share of world-class cities and I agree with him.

London topped the international portion when I ranked My Favorite Cities Visited in the '00s--its National Gallery did likewise for my list of Favorite Art Museums--and would probably tie with New York overall. Like the Big Apple, London is always teeming with people from everywhere, offers the apex of virtually every art form and provides me with a tangibly electric buzz, even when I'm just wandering around or riding the Tube (their subway). Plus it's got amazing history and beautiful buildings, bridges, parks and squares.

I've been to London six times, including five in the last 10 years, when I repeatedly added it as a 2-3 day stopover following other European travels. I can't wait to go again, especially as I always tell myself that one day it might be nice to be there and not do overtly touristy things, but there are still a good number of museums, attractions and sites I have yet to see and would want to. 

One of my favorite things about London is all the great music that came from there, as I'm a BritPop fanatic. The videos below comprise ten of my favorite songs about London, either referencing the city by name or being about it.

A bit of an anomaly among a bunch of rock tunes, but No Place Like London from the Sondheim musical Sweeney Todd seemed like a good place to start.


London Calling is more famous and included below, but London's Burning is another great Clash classic.


"Lights Out, Lights Out London" a great refrain from a UFO song I've long enjoyed. 


The Wildhearts are one of my favorite bands that not everyone knows. This one doesn't exactly sing London's praises, but is fun nonetheless.


Other than the opening line, "Panic in the streets of London," I don't know that this song is really about the city, but any excuse to find and share a classic old live Smiths clip is fully justified.


Another one that more just mentions London than is really about it. But a great one nonetheless.


London's Brilliant Parade, a lesser known song by one of Paolo's favorites .


Often cited as one the most beautiful pop songs ever written, Waterloo Sunset is a Kinks klassic done here by head Kink Ray Davies, with a chorus, at this year's Glastonbury festival.


Despite the scenario sung about by The Jam in Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, I've never felt the slightest bit threatened riding The Underground alone at any hour.


I was initially hoping to find a clip closer to the original studio version of Werewolves of London, but Warren Zevon's understated, latter day live rendition is pretty cool. Sadly, not only did Warren die in 2003, but Paolo found that "Lee Ho Fook's" no longer exists. Glad I had a big dish of beef chow mein there in 2004 or 5.


For those keeping count, my list of ten goes to eleven. But I can't think of a better way to close than with London Calling. Cheers!

Disgracing an American Hero, Chasing a Childhood Icon

A Pair of Movie Reviews

The Tillman Story
a documentary directed by Amir Bar-Lev
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Although it may seem like a small thing, I think it is rather significant that The Tillman Story--an excellent new documentary by Amir Bar-Lev--is not titled The Pat Tillman Story. For while the film provides substantial biography and background about Pat's brave, selfless and ultimately tragic decision to leave a lucrative football career to enlist in the U.S. Army, the movie is just as much about the Tillman family--including Pat's mother, father, brothers and wife.

The word "story" is also quite connotative, as although several fellow soldiers and, in turn, Army leadership on up, almost instantly knew that Pat Tillman's death in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004 was caused by friendly fire, his family was initially told that he was killed during an enemy ambush, in which his heroic actions saved many of his fellow troops. All of this turned out to be a lie, and the deception only seemed to grow after the fratricide was revealed five weeks after Pat's death.

Employing a firm but low-key approach--rather than a Michael Moore-ish caustic incredulity--Bar-Lev depicts the determination of Pat's mom, Mary "Dannie" Tillman and her ex-husband, Pat Sr., to learn the truth of what actually happened, who knew what when and how high up the chain of command the cover-up went. I'll let you learn the details for yourself and make your own judgments, but for me, the depth of the duplicity is harrowing and a disgrace to Pat Tillman's heroic legacy.

Interestingly and admirably, as part of the point the documentary makes is that Pat didn't want to be seen as a symbol nor have his reasons for enlisting revealed, the film does not serve to over glorify him. I don't believe anybody in the film, including soldiers whose lives he helped saved, ever directly refers to him as a hero; more importantly to them, he was a son, husband, brother and comrade. This all the more heightens the shame of the military and Bush administration in using Tillman as a political football while stonewalling his family's attempt to have the truth revealed.

No matter where one stands politically or feels about the United States' foreign policy decisions over the past decade, The Tillman Story is one you should hear. And see, if you're over 18. For no real good reason that I could tell, except some use of profanity, this movie is rated "R." Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips correctly takes the MPAA (the movie ratings board) to task in this article, in which Bar-Lev is quoted as saying, "This sends a message that [Tillman's story] is somehow not appropriate for young people, who by the way are subject to ROTC visits in their high schools, but can't see the film about Pat Tillman."

(For those who have seen the film, this video of Q&A with the filmmakers, hosted by Michael Moore, might be of some interest.)
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Dear Mr. Fidrych
a fictional feature film by Mike Cramer
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Somewhat akin to Evel Knievel--who I recently wrote about--Mark "The Bird" Fidrych was a phenomenon that aligned perfectly with my childhood. But whereas a substantial amount of hucksterism propelled Knievel's rise to fame and his popularity with kids, Fidrych was a much more organic sensation when, as a gawky 21-year-old rookie with the Detroit Tigers, he went 19-9, drew huge crowds at home & on the road, started the All-Star Game and enchanted the nation--including my 7-year-old self--with his quirky antics (talking to the baseball, manicuring the pitcher's mound), great nickname (inspired by his resemblance to Sesame Street's Big Bird) and surprising success.

Although his career was quickly decimated by injuries and I never gave him too much thought over the years, I was acutely saddened last year when Fidrych died in a freak accident while fixing a truck at his Massachusetts farm. So when I noticed that the Siskel Film Center was having a single showing of a film called Dear Mr. Fidrych, I made a point of going to see it.

I'm glad I did and commend first-time feature filmmaker Mike Cramer--now a Chicago lawyer who grew up in Detroit during the '70s--for seeing through an interesting idea and putting together a respectable movie on a shoestring budget. It is not a documentary about Fidrych, but a fictional, semi-autobiographical story about a Detroit kid who comes to idolize "The Bird" while struggling in Little League, and then when facing challenges of adulthood, takes a road trip with his son on which they seek out Fidrych at his farm.

I don't want to be too harsh on Cramer, but while his movie is laudable, it is far from phenomenal. Although I paid the full $10 Siskel Center admission to see it, I could easily overlook it being the most amateurish film I've ever seen in a theater--complete with poor lighting and almost inaudible sound at parts--if the material was truly first-rate. But except for the 20 minutes at the end in which a 50+ Fidrych is as laid-back, cool, not bitter and quirky as any child of the '70s could have hoped, the movie is only fair.

The dialogue isn't terrible, certainly not compared to much Hollywood drek, but is more perfunctory than revelatory (and Cramer, who was at the screening, shared that the scenes with Fidrych were pre-planned but unscripted). Cramer himself stars in the film, along with his two sons, wife and other friends & family members, and while they bring an engaging realism, a small role played by longtime Chicago sportscaster Mark Giangreco is not only the most fun, it clearly illustrates the professional finesse brought by someone used to being on camera.

The father-son bonding that consumes the second half of the film is sweet if not exactly novel, and while the childhood part of the movie is needed to set up the Fidrych pilgrammage that comes later, far too much time is spent on unexceptional Wonder Years-type stuff, including at least a half-hour of play-by-play of numerous Little League games (besides Giangreco, Chicago sportswriter & radio host Mike Mulligan makes a cameo).

In sum, I'm glad Cramer thought to make--and Fidrych agreed to be in--this film before Mark's tragic death at age 54. The scenes with "The Bird" interacting with Cramer (as Marty Jones) and his son are worth the price of admission alone, augmented by wonderfully nostalgic clips of his pitching performances. None seems to exist, but I would love to see a full-fledged documentary on Fidrych. For while this ultra-indie attempt to merge a coming-of-age story, midlife crisis and ode to a childhood icon is admirable, it just isn't a complete-game victory (of which Mr. Fidrych had 18 in 1976).

(For more on Fidrych: Stats at Baseball-Reference; Wikipedia article; excellent piece upon his death by SI.com's Joe Posnanski; a YouTube video of the end of his most famous televised game.)

A Day of Remembrance and Tolerance

It seems strange to suggest that today should be a holiday, for the anniversary of the worst day in American history is certainly nothing to celebrate.

And while Memorial Day would seem to similarly denote a day of solemn commemoration, I don't know that amidst road trips and barbecues too many of us give active thought to remembering and thanking those who gave their lives in service to our country (except those who have lost relatives and friends). 

So not only would it seem improper for 9/11 to be honored as a day where people have fun instead of going to work or school, coming so close on the heels of Labor Day it would be logistically implausible for September 11th to become an official federal holiday, or at least one with real consequence to as opposed to Flag Day or even Veterans Day.

Obviously, even without being specially earmarked, the date 9/11 will always carry forth a mournful resonance. I've never felt the need for a bumper sticker or window decal saying, "We Will Never Forget," as I have never come close to forgetting--nor I imagine have you--the terrorist acts of September 11, 2001, the lives lost and where I was when I heard about the first plane having hit, the second plane hitting, the third plane hitting the Pentagon, each of the towers falling and the fourth plane crashing in Pennsylvania.

I didn't know anyone who lost their life that day, although one of the heroes of Flight 93, Todd Beamer--the guy who said, "Are you guys ready? Okay. Let's roll!"--was a poker buddy of a good friend of mine.

(Photo credit: Joe Woolhead - Silverstein Properties, Inc.)

It was as surreal as it was shocking & sad and I doubt that anyone old enough to remember it--and probably many of those who aren't--really need a special notation on the calendar for 9/11 not to forever have the same sort of automatic recognition as January 1, July 4 and December 25.

I also feel that in many ways it's a good thing that, now nine years later, the calendar date of September 11 has regained some semblance of normalcy in terms of our daily lives. I never gave much credence to that "if we stop shopping, the terrorists win" crap, but feel no compunction about planning to see a movie, possibly meeting up with a friend and not treating the day with any acute reverence. The official ceremonies with President Obama at the Pentagon, Vice President Biden in New York and Michelle Obama & Laura Bush (why not W. too?) in Shanksville, PA, will hopefully provide whatever possible further comfort to those who lost loved ones, but I highly doubt I will pay attention to anything more than some sound bites.

Yet while life goes on, so too does considerable bigotry, stupidity and malice.

While I empathize with any victims' families who oppose Park 51--a.k.a. the Ground Zero Mosque--for reasons that are, understandably, likely based more on emotion than logic or constitutional propriety, and respect anyone offering sincere debate and even disapproval, the thought of a new Islamic Community Center with a prayer room (as rendered at left) being built within a similar radius from Ground Zero as a strip club, betting parlor and lingerie store doesn't bother me in the least (and polls have shown a majority of Manhattan residents support it).

What bothers me a whole lot more than the mosque possibly being built is all the venom and inaccuracies being spewed about it. And the whole thing this week about Florida pastor Terry Jones threatening to burn a Koran--it seems to have been called off--has been an absolutely embarrassing disgrace.

Now, lest you think me a latter-day flower child overdosing on political correctness, I am a Jew who knows that there are many people, of myriad religions and even none, who may hate me simply for that reason. I am not ignorant of the fact that Al Qaeda is comprised (exclusively, I think) of Muslims who would seek to harm to me, Jews, Americans and almost any innocent people of the world.

But the truth is also this: To hurt, kill or wish such on any other human being is wrong. Period. And people with such desires are clearly not limited to any race, religion or nationality, nor is there much distinction between having those feelings as "action" vs. "reaction."

So let's not presume anyone feels that way just because they happen to be Arab or Islamic, any more than you can assume all white people would do what Timothy McVeigh did, that all college students aim to replicate the horrific actions of Seung-Hui Cho or Steven Kazmierczak or that German, Italian and Japanese people are intent on wreaking the destruction their countries' high command and armies did in World War II.

And let's try not to ever feel that way ourselves. 

Still, I am not here to preach that we all must love one another. We have our differences and for one reason or another they can cause disdain, often beyond conscious thought. There's a song from the irreverent hit Avenue Q musical called "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist," that in offering: "If we all could just admit / That we are racist a little bit / Even though we all know that it's wrong / Maybe it would help us...get along" is as astute as it is funny.

But if universal acceptance, affinity and affection are too much to hope for--though I think there is much to gain from learning about our differences and realizing that they're not all that vast--how about respect and tolerance? If you don't like someone, especially someone who hasn't directly harmed or insulted you, keep your mouth shut.

Why is that so much to ask, and imagine the wonders it could do.

I understand that Presidents and such must often make tough foreign policy choices in the name of national security, and that soldiers during wartime must carry out orders, but even then it's prudent to recall the gloriously sage words of Mahatma Gandhi:

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

So on September 11, 2010, a year before the 10th anniversary of a day no one will ever forget, I am suggesting that whoever is in charge of these things--Obama, Oprah, the people who print calendars, etc.--consider officially commemorating the date as a "Day of Remembrance and Tolerance."

What you'd do on 9/11 would be as up to you as on the other 364 days of any year. But remembering what happened on a sunny morning in 2001 and, at the same time, reminding ourselves to always tolerate--if not quite yet appreciate--all those who don't look, dress or think like us, would be a pretty enlightening way to observe a dark day.

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Pertaining to this topic, some might value reading this article about a Muslim woman who created a book showing the many different walks of life among women of her faith who wear headscarves (and who often get hassled for doing so).

And in addition to this song and performance that has always stuck with me since the Tribute To Heroes telecast after 9/11/01, the one below offers some pretty good words to live by:

The Patriots Will Win the Super Bowl, The Bears Will Win 4 Games and Other NFL Predictions That Won't Quite Add Up

With tonight being the kickoff of the NFL season, as the Super Bowl Champion New Orleans Saints host the Minnesota Vikings in what should be a wonderful rematch of last year's NFL Championship game (won by the Saints 31-28 in overtime), I thought I would make some predictions.

Certainly, there are about 50 million people far more qualified to do so. While I consider myself a lifelong football fan, I didn't watch a minute of any preseason game, rarely watch any regular season NFL games in which I don't have a rooting interest (i.e. I mainly watch my hometown Bears), have almost no interest in college football, have never played Fantasy Football and would be hard-pressed to name 20 current professional players who aren't on the Bears.

Furthermore establishing why you shouldn't take my predictions to Vegas (or your local bookie), last year I said the Bears would make it the Super Bowl--buying into the Jay Cutler hype--and would lose there to the New England Patriots. Cutler sucked, the Bears went 7-9 and the Patriots got crushed in the first-round of the playoffs.

Plus, my 2010 baseball predictions aren't looking all that hot, with only 3 or 4 of the 8 teams I picked to make the playoffs likely to do so.

So take these with a grain of salt and don't be too shocked next February 6 when very few of more forecasts have proven accurate.

(AP Photo/David J. Phillip, from NFL.com)

All this said, I did try to take my predictions seriously. I read through team previews and experts' predictions, and rather than simply say "I think this team will go 11-5," I went through this composite schedule and picked wins and losses for each game.

Unfortunately, though I to tried to ensure that all "win" picks were offset by a "loss" pick for the opposing team, somehow the win column below only adds up to 247. There are 512 games played in the NFL season and excluding very rare ties, half--i.e. 256--are won and half are lost.

Therefore I am 9 wins short of my predictions being mathematically possible, if nothing else. And lest you think I could've just added wins to the records of certain teams, I couldn't really do that without deducting wins from other teams, in utilizing my game-by-game prediction system.

I'm not sure what happened and haven't been able to figure it out. I found at least one mistake in the schedule I used--in Week 6, Arizona is listed as having a Bye Week, but Philadelphia is said to be playing Arizona; the Eagles are really playing Atlanta that week--so perhaps there were others. And certainly I could have made computational errors.

I've put in enough time on this already, so it'll have to stand as it, even if impossible. I doubt anyone would have known if I didn't say anything and the following is an accurate depiction of how I think all teams will finish in the standings and then the postseason.

But all bets are off.


NFC EAST

NY Giants          11 wins  5 losses
Dallas                 10-6 (wild card)
Philadelphia         8-8
Washington         4-12

NFC NORTH

Green Bay         13-3
Minnesota         10-6 (wild card)
Chicago            4-12
Detroit              4-12
Sorry fellow Bears fans; I thought they should win 6-7 games, but after a decent start don's see any wins from Week 10 on. I originally had Green Bay winning 14 through game-by-game picks, but that seemed too high.

NFC WEST

San Francisco      7-9 (division winner)
Seattle                 7-9
Arizona               5-10
St. Louis             4-12

NFC SOUTH

New Orleans      13-3
Carolina              9-7
Atlanta                7-9
Tampa Bay         3-13
This seems strange to me, to not have any teams at even .500 and a playoff team from last year winning only 5 games, but this is how my picks fell out.

NFC Playoffs
(3) New York Giants over (6) Minnesota
(5) Dallas over (4) San Francisco
--
(1) New Orleans over Dallas
New York Giants over (2) Green Bay
--
New Orleans over New York Giants


AFC EAST

New England         13-3
NY Jets                 11-5 (wild card)
Miami                     8-8
Buffalo                   2-14

AFC NORTH

Pittsburgh             11-5
Baltimore              10-6
Cincinnati               7-9
Cleveland               3-13

AFC WEST     

San Diego             12-4
Denver                  11-5 (wild card)
Oakland                7-9
Kansas City          2-14

AFC SOUTH

Indianapolis          13-3
Tennessee            7-9
Jacksonville          7-9
Houston               4-12


AFC Playoffs

(4) Pittsburgh over (5) Denver
(6) NY Jets over (3) San Diego
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(1) New England over NY Jets
(2) Indianapolis over Pittsburgh
--
New England over Indianapolis


Super Bowl XLV
February 6, 2011
Arlington, Texas

New England over New Orleans

There you have it, the Patriots will win the Super Bowl. If Tom Brady stays healthy. And this morning he was in a car accident but seemingly was unhurt and participated in practice.

So that shows how precarious my--or anyone's--predictions can be. On paper, er, on screen, my playoff teams seem pretty solid, but there's always one or two teams that come out of nowhere to have a great season. Of the teams I didn't pick to make the playoffs, Cincinnati would be my best guess to be a sleeper.

And on that note, are you ready for some football?

Reacting to the Daley News: Mayor Will Leave a Rich Legacy

Photo Credit: Antonio Dickey, Mayor's Press Office

Although I have lived in the Chicago area for nearly my entire life, I have never lived within the city limits of Chicago. As such I've never paid Chicago taxes, gone to Chicago schools or directly utilized many Chicago services. Therefore I've never felt the financial or otherwise acute personal impact of many of Mayor Richard M. Daley's decisions.

But as a suburbanite who loves Chicago, has worked at times within the city and has spent countless hours going to events, restaurants and attractions there, I think Daley--who yesterday announced that he will not seek re-election in 2011, ending his reign after 22 years--has largely been a great mayor.

Not perfect, not without numerous missteps, not without considerable arrogance, not without suspicions of corruption, but in sum a mayor who has had a much more positive impact on the city than negative (again, at least to someone not affected in every way).

Yes, there are still far too many murders, although the rate has dropped significantly during Daley's tenure. Yes, there seems to be much disenchantment on--and probably always with--the police force. Yes, coupled with the recession, the Daley administration left the city's finances in dire straits. Yes, I think the parking meter boxes are far too ubiquitous. Yes, I think Daley misread the likelihood of Chicago ever landing the Olympics. And yes, at times the mayor has butchered the English language beyond recognition.

Photo Credit: Brian Cassella, Chicago Tribune

But while the Chicago Tribune's editorial staff, news department and columnist John Kass have been lambasting Daley for years, it's telling to me that theater critic Chris Jones and architecture critic Blair Kamin are today singing his praises for his impact on Chicago's cultural life and appearance.

During Daley's reign--which will end up being just briefly longer than his father's--city streets and parks have been beautified, the theater district has been revitalized, three major stadiums have been built, McCormick Place (and the city's convention business) have been vastly expanded, Navy Pier was renovated and became the city's top tourist attraction (although I don't quite understand why), numerous festivals have been amplified, many arts groups have thrived, new skyscrapers have risen and Millennium Park--Chicago's newest crown jewel--was created, albeit four years late.

For these reasons and others, Time magazine named Daley the best "big city mayor" in 2005, and seemingly as a result, Chicago was recently ranked the 6th best global city by Foreign Policy magazine.

I understand that Daley has numerous detractors and respect the opinions of those who face snow removal, pothole, neighborhood safety, local parking, school quality and property tax issues/hardships that I haven't had to deal with.

But as an outsider looking in, judging him by the following: 1) Will Daley leave Chicago better than he found it?, 2) Did he raise the city's stature around the world? and 3) Will he be easy to replace?, I feel that Richard M. Daley did a pretty damn good job overall, despite whatever foibles and failures.

And I'm being sincere when I say, "Thanks Richie."

An Exhibit Worth 300,000 Words (but I use just 685)

Calle Cuauhtemoctzin, Mexico City 1934-5

Photography Exhibit Review

Henri Cartier-Bresson
The Modern Century
Art Institute of Chicago
Through October 3, 2010
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With nearly 300 pictures by the legendary French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004), the first major exhibition since his death--now showing at the Art Institute of Chicago after being organized by New York's Museum of Modern Art--provided a wonderfully in-depth introduction to the work of an artist I knew relatively little about, other than his name and fame.

With wall after wall lined with beautiful silver-gelatin prints, the exhibit does a great job of illustrating how the extent & import of his worldwide travels combined with the innate acuity of his lens--he's cited as one of the first major photographers to utilize a handheld camera--helped Cartier-Bresson capture "The Modern Century."

Shanghai, 1949

From his early images brimming with unique character, such as the one above, through post-WWII excursions documenting China on the brink of Communism (the photo at right depicts a rush to retrieve gold from a bank with the value of money about to plummet), the Soviet Union after Stalin's death, lighter fare such as baseball in Milwaukee in 1957 and even in his myriad portraits, Cartier-Bresson was a master at depicting--as the exhibit's wall text sums up in a word as simple yet expansive as his images--civilization.

The only negative, so to speak, was that beyond what could be gleaned from a plethora of his photographs, the exhibition provided scant insight into Cartier-Bresson the man. Except for a full chronology of his travels, which was exhaustive to the point of being incomprehensible, there was almost no biography provided, nor a picture of Henri himself. It was only through the Chicago Tribune's fine review of the exhibit and Wikipedia that I learned that Cartier-Bresson was born in 1908 to a wealthy family, that he was a painter before turning to photography, that he worked with renowned film director Jean Renoir who made him act so he could understand how it felt to be on the other side of the camera, that he served in the French Army as a Corporal in the Film and Photo unit during World War II and most notably that he spent 35 months as a Nazi prisoner of war and was presumed dead thereafter but resurfaced to contribute to what was meant to be his posthumous exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA).

Dessau, Germany, 1945 - Denouncing of a German informer

But while I would have appreciated the exhibit offering a bit more connectivity between the artist and his work, I did value the keen observations the wall text made about the photos themselves. Such as saying that "many of his pictures lovingly describe age-old patterns of life, untouched by modern industry and commerce" and revealing that although the volume of photographs he took in the United States was second only to the number taken in France, his U.S. photos are among the least well-known and while his work is largely notable for its neutral observation, "his image of the United States incorporates a distinctly critical thread, alert to American vulgarity, greed, and racism."

I also liked the way the exhibit juxtaposed two Cartier-Bresson photo essays--one on Communist China's "Great Leap Forward" and the other illustrating American Capitalism through pictures taken for the Banker's Trust Company annual report--in a way that revealed plenty of similarities amongst the seeming dichotomy.

In showcasing so many indelible images across many subjects, themes and decades, The Modern Century is clearly a truly superlative exhibition of a remarkable and important artist. I encourage anyone who can to get to the Art Institute by October 3rd to see it--Free Admission Thursdays from 5-8pm should provide adequate time to take it all in and also check out the excellent photography exhibit downstairs showcasing the architecture of Louis Sullivan--or catch it when it subsequently rolls into San Francisco and Atlanta. (If you are a Bank of America customer, you can also get Free Admission to the Art Institute--and other museums--on the first weekend of each month. The Cartier-Bresson exhibit runs through Sunday, October 3 and does not require extra admission, so you can catch it free that way too, as I did this past weekend.)

For those unable to be in the right place at the right time, in addition to several images I've gathered above and below, you can see the whole exhibition online through MoMA's website and even download a PDF with a list & images of all the photos.  

(Images shown from MoMA.org and other online outlets; reproduction rights owned exclusively by Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, Magnum Photos, MoMA and the Art Institute of Chicago. No infringement intended.)

Alicante, Spain, 1933

Dessau, Germany, 1945

New York, 1946

Brie, France 1968

Coronation of King George VI, London, 1937

Easter Sunday in Harlem, 1947

Greenfield, Indiana 1960

Juvisy, France, 1938

Los Remedios, Mexico, 1963

Madrid, 1933

Milwaukee, 1957

New York, 1947

Romania, 1975

Jean-Paul Sartre, Paris, 1946

Ezra Pound, Venice, 1971

Martine's Legs, 1967

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss: Hidden Springsteen Gems To Be Released From 'Darkness'

It certainly is not unusual for talented musical artists to have recorded far more material than they put out on their principal albums. I have just as many CDs worth of fresh Jimi Hendrix studio recordings released 20-40 years past his death than came out during his all-too-brief lifetime. While not all of the long-hidden recordings are quite on par with what's on Jimi's monumental trio of main albums, a great number of songs are stellar enough to wonder why they were kept in the vaults for so long.

Along with substantial posthumously-released material from acts like Nirvana, Johnny Cash and Stevie Ray Vaughn--and look for Michael Jackson's vaults to be emptied regularly over the next several years--several of my favorite current artists (U2, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Pearl Jam, The Killers, Maximo Park--have also put out at least one "rarities album" with plenty of tunes as good if not better than some of what's on their "official CDs." And starting in 1991, Bob Dylan has put out oodles of previously unreleased material through his "Bootleg Series."

Tracks, 1998 66-song rarities box set

But perhaps because I'm such a hardcore fan of Bruce Springsteen--my all-time favorite rock artist--and thus thoroughly know and like almost everything he put out on his primary albums over the years, it was something of a shock to the system back in late 1998 when, in anticipation of reuniting the decade-dormant E Street Band, he released his 4-CD Tracks box set full of good-to-great material that hadn't previously seen the light of day. It was somewhat off-putting to know that so much stellar "Boss" material had existed for so long without me or anyone but perhaps the most avid of Bruce archivists knowing about it.

It felt kind of like it might if we found out today that there were several hilarious Seinfeld episodes that were taped but never aired or that Spielberg or Scorsese made some first-rate movies that no one knew about because they were never released. 

And it turns out the 66 songs of Tracks were really only a drop in the bucket of what exists in the Springsteen vaults. In 2003, he added a third disc of rarities to the Essential Bruce Springsteen collection, talk of a Tracks 2 box set at some point has circulated for years and now this.

Recently it was announced that on November 16, Columbia Records will release "The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story." For a Springsteen fanatic like me, it will be like Christmas came early, as the 3-CD, 3-DVD (or Blu-Ray) set will center around a remastered version of Bruce's fantastic 1978 album (those who care about what remastering can do should also see this blog post), which includes classics like Badlands, The Promised Land, Racing in the Street, Candy's Room and Prove It All Night.

The collection will also feature:

- A new documentary about the making of the original album. Directed by the award-winning Thom Zimny, the doc will be soon shown at the prestigious Toronto Film Festival accompanied by a Springsteen appearance.

- A live performance of the album in its entirety, filmed in 2009 without an audience to simulate the stark atmosphere of the record. I had the pleasure of seeing Bruce/E Street play Darkness in full as part of a concert last October at Giants Stadium in New Jersey, and the band still brings tremendous power to the material.

- Video of a full Springsteen concert recorded in Houston in 1978. I have seen Bruce live 38 times since 1984 and have loved every show, but he was supposedly at his live peak on the 1978 tour, which has never before been officially documented. So this will be a real treat.

But even more than the other goodies, what most excites me--and I'd presume most devout Springsteen fanatics--is the inclusion of two CDs worth of previously unreleased material that Bruce and the band recorded during the Darkness sessions. Also to be available a la carte as simply The Promise, the discs will include 21 songs, a few of which are known through cover versions and/or concert performances over the years--Because The Night, Fire, Rendezvous--but at least 15 will be completely new to my ears. One song--Save My Love--can now be heard streaming at BruceSpringsteen.net and though it seems to feature vocals that Bruce recorded rather recently, it sounds damn good.

According to this video, whereas the eight songs that made Springsteen's 1975 masterpiece Born To Run were culled from just nine that were recorded, the ten on Darkness On The Edge Of Town--whose creation and release was delayed because Bruce was embroiled in a lawsuit with his former manager--came from 70 put on tape.



All this unreleased material might make it seem like Bruce has been holding out on his fans, but his albums--including Darkness--have been so routinely excellent (AllMusic gives his first 8 albums a composite 39 stars out of a possible 40) that Bruce has obviously known what he was doing. He's explained repeatedly that his goal has always been to put out cohesive albums that kept with what he wanted to say at the time, and as quoted in the video above, "Ideas that I was interested in concentrating on would have been diluted at that moment if I'd made more of a miscellaneous grab bag of music, no matter how entertaining it was at the time."

So I'm looking forward to November 16 unreservedly, with no complaints about what I've been previously deprived of hearing.

But given that about his latest, soon-to-be-unveiled treasure trove, Bruce offers, "'Darkness' was my 'samurai' record, stripped to the frame and ready to rumble...But the music that got left behind was substantial [and] perhaps could have/should have been released after 'Born To Run' and before the collection of songs that 'Darkness on the Edge of Town' became." and that I've long felt that from Tracks and other officially released rarities, I could make up at least one "missing Bruce album" that less deeply knowledgeable Bruce fans would have no problem believing, I've decided to do so.

Not that I can really give it to anyone, as I certainly don't have the rights to distribute Bruce's music or even really use the Eric Meola photographs that I employed for my imaginary missing Springsteen album mockup.

But just for fun, here is my fantasy album that I just never knew Bruce released, probably around 1979--don't get too parochial, as a few of my inclusions were likely written a good bit later--titled, Wide Awake Dreams (from a line in the song Restless Nights).

Rather than simply a compilation of some his finest non-album cuts--as the second disc of Tracks could be considered such by itself--I've tried my best to select and sequence an album (though at 53 minutes, it's more the length of a modern one) as Bruce might have 30+ years ago. 

Wide Awake Dreams is intended as a cohesive statement, with songs that work together sonically, thematically and for the most part were chronologically close in their creation. I think many of these songs were written & recorded after the Darkness sessions, perhaps for The River, which came out in October 1980, so 1979 seems about right for where this album would've fallen.

The tracklist is as follows, with links that allow you to purchase MP3's of most songs through Amazon.com (although they have the full MP3 set of Tracks specially priced at $19.99 so you may wish to go that route instead, though a few of the songs are from other sources). You can also hear samples through Amazon.

1. Roulette
2. Don't Look Back
3. Janey Don't You Lose Heart
4. Murder Incorporated (from Greatest Hits)
5. Bring On The Night
6. Iceman
7. Frankie
8. Dollhouse
9. Be True
10. Restless Nights
11. Loose Ends
12. None But the Brave (not available for individual download; on the Essential Bruce Springsteen album)
13. The Promise (released in 1999 as a special inclusion on 18 Tracks, an abridging of the box set, but the new Darkness box will include a "fully orchestrated" version.)

For the few fellow Bruce diehards who happen to still be reading and would be happy to play along, I'd love to see what your "great lost Springsteen album" would include.

After all, at least in a fantasy world, you're the Boss.