Pithy Philosophies #14

My friend Ken surfaced this quote, which I think still holds resonance today, particularly due to whom it was said by:

"Capitalism is the legitimate racket of the ruling class."

-- Al Capone 

Let It Entertain You: Exquisite 'Gypsy' Comes Up Roses at Chicago Shakespeare -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Gypsy

Chicago Shakespeare Theater

Thru March 23
@@@@@

It's not inconceivable to imagine someone noting Gypsy being staged at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater and wondering, "When, exactly, did the Bard write a musical about a burlesque stripper and her overbearing stage mother?"

But not only has CST always included works not written by Sir William in its repertoire, and since 2001 has mounted several Stephen Sondheim musicals directed by Gary Griffin--I've now seen all seven such productions and am looking forward to the upcoming Road Show--the 1959 musical based on the memoirs of Gypsy Rose Lee actually has a storyline that feels vaguely Shakespearean.

Photo of Louise Pitre by Michael Brosilow. At the performance
I attended, Rengin Altay played Rose.

Or at least a main character.

For like Julius Caesar, the title character in Gypsy is not the primary one.

Rather than Gypsy herself, the musical much more revolves around her mother, Rose, who like Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear and others from the Bard's oeuvre, is imposing and compelling, yet tragically flawed.

So not only may Gypsy be incredibly apt for its surroundings--the theater is designed in the style of Shakespeare's Globe, though fortunately not outdoors--but the CST's note-perfect renditions of Sondheim's works have celebrated another truly singular master of the theatrical arts.

I have seen a lot of Sondheim shows in a lot of places, including on Broadway, and Griffin's Chicago Shakespeare Theater productions--from his initial, groundbreaking Pacific Overtures, to appreciably appreciation-heightening versions of A Little Night Music, Passion and Follies, to two sublime stagings of Sunday in the Park with George (the 2011 one was by far the best representation I've seen of one of my very favorite musicals)--have consistently outclassed any others.

That continues with Gypsy, even though hardcore acolytes may consider it only half of a "Sondheim musical."

Photo credit: Michael Brosilow

Along with West Side Story, the show likely stands as the most widely beloved and accessible of any that Sondheim helped to create. But in both those cases (and one other), he wrote only the lyrics, not the music as well--in Gypsy's case, original star Ethel Merman insisted the much more seasoned Jule Style be the composer. 

So for CST to put on Gypsy when they've yet to do Company, Sweeney Todd and other "full Sondheim" masterworks seems a tad odd. Perhaps that's why they're soon, for a time concurrently, also staging Road Show, a more recent, much lesser-known work that began life at Chicago's Goodman Theater in 2003 as Bounce.

But not only is this version of Gypsy absolutely sensational, but--aided by reading Sondheim's annotations in his excellent Finishing the Hat compendium (one of two)--Griffin's dazzling production helped me more fully embrace it as a "Sondheim musical."

Working with his West Side Story collaborators--book writer Arthur Laurents and director Jerome Robbins--as well as Styne, Sondheim wrote a typically brilliant set of lyrics that move the story along while conveying more universal truths. 

Photo credit: Michael Brosilow

I won't delay the actual review further by citing examples of lyrical genius, but find it interesting to note that the phrase "coming up roses" was not in the lexicon prior to the song "Everything's Coming Up Roses" that is sung by the Rose character (known as, but never actually labeled Mama Rose).

I also won't spend much time recapping the plotline of a 55-year-old musical regarded as one of the best of all-time--there is also a movie version--but Gypsy begins with Rose managing the fledgling vaudeville careers of her young daughters, the effusively talented June (who would become an actress known as June Havoc) and the mousy, overshadowed Louise, who would evolve into Gypsy Rose Lee.

Everyone in the cast at Chicago Shakespeare Theater is superb--including the kids that play June and Louise in the early parts (Emily Leahy and Caroline Heffernan)--but when I arrived on Wednesday night, I was initially disappointed to learn there would be an understudy for Louise Pitre as Rose.

Pitre, a Tony-nominated Broadway veteran who I had seen years ago on the first American tour of Mamma Mia, has consistently earned raves for her portrayal, including from the Tribune's Chris Jones who called this "the best Gypsy in Chicagoland for years."

Though I hoped for the best, I noted that her understudy--Rengin Altay--didn't even have many musicals among her listed credits. 

Well, while I assume that Pitre--who I was told had performed at Wednesday's matinee but was suffering from a cold--is indeed outstanding in the role, Altay was so good that it's hard to imagine anyone being significantly better.

Photo credit: Liz Lauren

Her singing was consistently terrific--and I can't imagine those old Merman numbers are easy to belt out--but I just as much loved her nuances in portraying Rose.

This comment does not  reflect specifically upon any other actress--and I've seen the great Patti Lupone play Rose twice--but Altay masterfully avoided imbuing the archetypical stage mother with overt bitterness, cruelty or venom.

While you never doubt that Rose's pushiness stems from a damaged psyche, in Altay's hands steely determination is much more apparent  than actual malevolence; thus you also never doubt that Rose really loves her kids and even Herbie, her long-suffering lover and manager of the family act (terrifically portrayed by Keith Kupferer).

Perfectly complementing Altay's (and one presumes, Pitre's) Rose is Jessica Rush as the grown up Louise/Gypsy.

Late in Act I, as Louise remains greatly overshadowed--to her mother and others--by her much more musically gifted sister (Erin Burniston well plays the grown June), Rush subtly makes you feel her clear pain and longing while never corrupting Louise with bitterness or envy.

So early in Act II, despite Louise quarreling with her overbearing mother, Styne & Sondheim's masterful triad song, "Together Wherever We Go," never rings phony or false as Louise, Rose and Herbie affectionately sing of unified determination.

And Rush wonderfully transitions the demure Louise into the luminous Gypsy, showcasing a great set of lungs--in dual contexts--along the way.

It was also a joy to see Chicago stage stalwart Barbara Robertson as one of the three strippers who teach Gypsy the ropes.

Photo credit: Liz Lauren

So while simply to observer a well-sung Gypsy would be a great pleasure, there is a depth to this production that takes it to a whole other level.

Though I am admittedly prone to hyperbole as often as inspired to do so, this production of Gypsy is the best performance of any type I've seen so far in 2014.

And excepting concerts by Springsteen, McCartney, the Stones and a few others, there may not be any form of live entertainment that stirs my soul and enriches my life to the extent of Chicago Shakespeare doing Sondheim.

I look forward to Road Show.

--

While I was happy to avail myself of half-price tickets to Gypsy via HotTix, I wish I was at least 11 years younger so as to take advantage of CST's terrific offer of $20 tickets for those under 35. If you are eligible to purchase a pair of tickets for such a bargain--and only one attendee need meet the age requirements--you'd be silly not to.

Impressive Feet? Certainly, but 'Heartbeat of Home' Rarely Quickens My Pulse -- Chicago Theater / Dance Review

Theater / Dance Review

Heartbeat of Home

Oriental Theatre, Chicago
Thru March 16
@@@1/2

With a stage full of incredibly talented and attractive performers, Heartbeat of Home--a new step dancing extravaganza from the producers of Riverdance--was never unpleasant to watch.

The dancers showcased dazzling artistry, athleticism, syncopation and dexterity through a succession of numbers that varied greatly in style and tone.

The onstage band was demonstrably terrific as it rhythmically traveled across Irish, Latin, African and other global musical languages, sometimes within the same song.

An occasional solo vocalist, Lucia Evans, had a lovely voice that richly carried to the last row of the spacious Oriental Theater.

And the nearly full house gave the tireless performers--totaling 40 dancers and musicians--a well-deserved standing ovation on the show's first night of its U.S. tour.

So if you want to know if Heartbeat of Home is good and if I liked it, "Yes" would be my unadorned answer to both.

But if the question is, "Did I love it?" or "Would I want to see it again?" well, "No, not really."

So I would really only recommended it--at least for considerably more than the $10 I paid as a Broadway in Chicago subscriber with cheap seats--to those who love Riverdance.

Given that that show has been seen by untold millions and has raked in untold billions, that's a pretty expansive recommendation.

And as referenced above, the dancers and musicians are remarkably skilled, and--even as viewed through binoculars from the very top of the theater--rather stunning. I specifically cite Ciara Sexton because she is the top-listed and foremost featured dancer, but she is just one of several gorgeous women and men. It's not hard to imagine this cast may be having a whole lot of fun back at the hotel.

Yet while I enjoyed the fusion of steps and sounds of various worldwide origins, and relished seeing several of the dances--particularly the large group numbers with lots of loud tapping--I was more impressed than ever really captivated.

Ciara Sexton

Admittedly, I am less fond of interpretive and non-narrative entertainment--such as Cirque du Soleil--than I am of more traditional musical theater, plays and rock concerts featuring songs I know and love.

Consequently, while I have enjoyed a couple ballets, absolutely loved tap dancer extraordinare Savion Glover again a few weeks ago and did see Riverdance some years back, dance shows are a rather small part of my live entertainment diet.

I haven't often sought them out, nor truly embraced them when I have.

While I am genuinely amazed at what great dancers--or acrobats, STOMPers, etc.--can do, I usually find the first and/or best 10 minutes sufficient, rather than remaining truly engrossed for two hours or more.

In watching Heartbeat of Home, I perceived that were I to see any one or a few of the dancers as street performers, my mind would be blown by just how awesome they are at an art form that really is pretty cool.

But while I don't mean to convey that Heartbeat of Home is simply two hours of the same thing, as some of the more specialized numbers between the mass step dances that open and close the show are rather imaginative and most quite well done--a construction crew "high beam" piece is emphatically both--too few of the roughly 120 minutes had me acutely wowed. And if there was any type of thematic or narrative strain throughout the various dances, it was lost on me.

Without explicitly remembering Riverdance, my understanding is that this new show is akin, albeit with
greater global flavoring enhancing the Irish step dancing conceit of the original blockbuster.

And, according to the show's producer Moya Doherty in this Tribune piece by Chris Jones, the dancers' skill level has advanced considerably since the rise of Riverdance.

John McColgan, who worked on that show with Doherty, conceived and directs this one; he also introduced it in person on Tuesday night. Brian Byrne is the composer of all original music, Joseph O'Connor the lyricist on the vocal pieces and David Bolger the choreographer. I'll also note percussionist, Steve Holloway, who has considerable front-and-center stage time playing a hand-held drum.

If Heartbeat of Home sounds like something you would like, I have no reason to suggest that you wouldn't. The warm standing ovation certain bespeaks that most in attendance seemed to love it. (Discount tickets seem to be available on both HotTix and Goldstar.)

And while this line is always somewhat blurred, my @@@1/2 (out of 5) rating is likely less representative of the quality of the production than simply my own enjoyment of it.

I'm glad I saw it, and am always happen to expand my cultural horizons, but can I conceive paying over $50 to ever see this show again?

Perhaps, but certainly not in a heartbeat.

--

Below is a short Heartbeat of Home promotional video from Broadway in Chicago. A longer one can be found here.

Pulling the Christopher Wool Over My Eyes? -- Pondering the Current State of Art

This painting by Christopher Wool, or a replica,
sold for $7.7 million at auction in 2012, per Wikipedia.

(Article covers but doesn't specifically rate the following exhibition:)

Christopher Wool

Art Institute of Chicago

Thru May 14, 2014
Exhibit website

I realize that there are plenty of artists--and tons of art--that I love yet others don't care for, or even about.

It's also true that many an artist now widely considered brilliant was derided, or simply ignored, in his or her time.

The Impressionists were considered the scourge of the French art world when they arose in the late 19th century, with Monet and Manet being largely disdained by critics. 

Though many of his works would now fetch well over $100 million at auction, Van Gogh sold only one painting in his lifetime and died penniless.

While the Art Institute of Chicago's prized Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte by Seurat may well be my favorite of any painting anywhere, in his brilliant musical imagining its creation--Sunday in the Park with George--Stephen Sondheim includes a historically-truthful song ("No Life") in which high-brow art patrons rebuke Seurat and one of his preceding masterpieces.

by Christopher Wool

And even though I like to think the swath of art I now embrace is rather broad, it wasn't until I visited some of the great museums in Europe--the Louvre, Prado, Uffizi Gallery, Vatican Museum, Rijksmuseum, Hermitage, National Gallery, Kunsthistorisches, etc.--that I came to properly appreciate the masters of the Renaissance and others who preceded or followed it, including Raphael, Titian, Durer, Vermeer, Velázquez and Murillo, just to drop a few exalted names.

I give this preamble not just in an attempt to defray sounding like a complete philistine for what I'm about to say, but in hopes that I will someday--perhaps even soon--realize that I am wrong.

But already rather unimpressed--or at least unmoved--by almost all examples I've seen of museum-selected and presented contemporary art, I had this general aversion further confirmed by a walk through the Art Institute of Chicago's major exhibition on Christopher Wool.

Don't feel sheepish if you just went, "Who?"

Other than via a check of the museum's website, I had never heard of Wool before arriving at the Art Institute last Thursday afternoon prior to attending a CSO concert across the street.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir - Madame Léon Clapisson, 1883 (original at left)

After discovering that the museum's exhibit on Renoir features just a single painting, Madame Léon Clapisson, whose background formerly had a darker hue--as the museum's conservation department found and digitally recreated--and that a photography exhibition Christopher Williams: The Production Line of Happiness had some nice works but seemed rather disjointedly organized, I ambled to Regenstein Hall--the Art Institute's largest exhibition space--to explore Christopher Wool.

Though I was uninitiated going in, I was somewhat excited to note that the Art Institute--which I consider one of the world's very best--had deemed a living artist worthy of such an extensive exhibit (Wool is an American, born in 1955).

Because honestly, I can scarcely name a currently-working, museum-level painter that I like.

The only two that readily come to mind are Chuck Close, who at 73 doesn't seem to be creating much new work, and Jack Vettriano, who I wrote about in 2010, but whose paintings seem to be more the province of galleries than museums.

The painting at left is Apocalypse Now; it sold for $26.4 million

And had they not died young, I imagine Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat would still be doing some interesting stuff.

Still, while I can't cite much that I've ever liked in Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art or among newer works within the Art Institute's Modern Wing, I want to believe that great extant painters with the talent and vision to rise above today's digitized din aren't as nearly extinct as great rock bands comprised of members born after the Carter administration.

Well, while intending this to reflect my general disappointment with contemporary art, rather than explicitly excoriate the Art Institute's exhibit, or Wool himself--who must have many esteemed admirers to have earned such a prestigious showing--I can't say I really liked, or admired, much of what I saw.

More of Christopher Wool's "Word" paintings

I genuinely tried not to be close-minded and dismissive, to the point of asking a security guard for her assessment after overhearing her suggest to a colleague that patrons saying, "I could do that"--which I never uttered--is insulting and belittling to the featured artist.

I fully agree with her.

And yet, simply in terms of seeing art that I enjoyed and appreciated, I have gotten more pleasure and enrichment from walking through a decent suburban art fair than I did perusing the numerous galleries of Wool's work.

To be fair, there is a certain amount of whimsy in Wool's "Word paintings," and I've come to realize that in contemporary art, having an original gimmick is just as important--if not more so--than creating anything likely to be seen as beautiful, or truly brilliant.

And just to prove that I'm merely an idiot with an opinion and not an accurate arbiter of artistic merit, Wikipedia's bio of Christopher Wool imparts the following: 

Wool's Word paintings made between the late 1980s and early 2000s are the most sought-after pieces on the art market; as of 2013, seven “word” works feature in Wool’s top ten auction sales. At Christie's London in February 2012, Untitled (1990), a later word painting bearing the broken word FOOL, sold for £4.9 million ($7.7 million). In November 2013, art dealer Christophe van de Weghe bought Apocalypse Now (1988) [which features words from a famous line in Francis Ford Coppola's film] for $26.4 million on behalf of a client at Christie's New York. 

So I don't imagine Mr. Wool would be all that distraught to learn that I wasn't all that wowed by his artworks. Nor should he be.

Works by Christopher Wool

But while I can see some merit if not wonderment in his word paintings, as a whole the more abstract stuff impressed me even less. Some were better than others--and I even like the sense of chaotic verve contained within--but there was nothing I'd want to hang in my living room, even if the museum let me take my pick home with me.

Certainly, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

And if you love what you see, by all means tell me why.

For while I have come to appreciate much beauty, and depth, in the paintings of relative minimalists like Kandinsky, Miro, Pollack, Gorky, Mondrian, de Kooning, Dubuffet, Rothko, Motherwell, Lichtenstein, Warhol, Jasper Johns--who, I should note, is still alive--and others, I can't help but think of "The Emperor's New Clothes" when, even a few days later, I consider the abstracts featured in the Art Institute's Christopher Wool exhibition.

Cy Twombly - The First Part of the Return from Parnassus, 1961

I am reminded of a visit, about 10 years ago, to the esteemed Menil Collection in Houston. Prominent in their holdings is the Cy Twombly Pavilion, featuring numerous works by Twombly, who is extolled on Wikipedia as such:

Together with [Robert] Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns, Twombly is regarded as the most important representative of a generation of artists who distanced themselves from Abstract Expressionism. 

Again, I'll defer to more expert assessors, but I recall walking through the galleries at the Menil dumbfounded by art that looked like stuff that would get a 3-year-old scolded for writing on the walls. There, too, I asked anyone I could find--docents, security guards, other patrons, etc.--to try to enlighten me to the greatness I was missing.

I included here a photo of a Twombly work that I coincidentally just noticed at the Art Institute; it's called The First Part of the Return from Parnassus and was created in 1961.

El Greco - The Feast in the House of Simon, 1608/14

And I still don't get it.

So it's not like Christopher Wool is the first "museum-quality" artist whose work has befuddled me. And I'm sure he won't be the last.

And despite not loving it, I really do appreciate the Art Institute deciding to curate the extensive exhibition.

Nowadays, special exhibits at the AIC are included in the general admission price and/or membership fees, and there have been a number of past exhibitions that have opened my eyes to artists I didn't previously know but whose work I enjoyed (primarily in the photography realm, such as William Eggleston).

And just to now know who Christopher Wool is, I guess is something. 

But, while knowing that this is all subjective, I would regret tourists who visit the Art Institute devoting considerable chunks of their limited time to the Christopher Wool exhibit--presumably after "making a point" of seeing the Seurat and other great Impressionist works, plus Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, Grant Wood's American Gothic and a few select others--rather than discovering, say, the multiple miraculous paintings by El Greco in the museum's collection, and even a Botticelli.

Elizabeth Sparhawk-Jones - Shoe Shop, 1911

Heck, as soon as I exited the Wool exhibition space, I walked into the nearby American galleries and saw numerous paintings by artists whose names I didn't know that were leaps and bounds better--at least to my eyes--than anything contained within the exhibit. 

One of these was called Shoe Shop, painted in 1911 by Elizabeth Sparhawk-Jones. If I had seen the work or heard her name before, I didn't recall it.

But without bothering to try to define or debate what "art" is at this juncture, this one random painting certainly seemed a lot more artful than some seemingly random black scribbles or a large stenciled "FOOL."

Though, again, circling back to where I began, I realize people said the same things about the works of Kandinsky, Miro, Pollack, Rothko and others who created new genres by being daringly ahead of their time.

So perhaps I just haven't caught up to the genius of Christopher Wool.

As I said above, I really hope to realize what I'm missing, and come to love it. Feel free to help me get there.

Yet while I won't be Neanderthal enough to say, "It looks like something I could do," or even your average small child, if "FOOL" fetched $7.7 million, perhaps I'm due at least $19.95.

Seth Arkin - It Used to Be OK, 1991

Years ago, largely when I lived in Los Angeles from 1990-92, I dabbled in painting. Especially with a number of friends at the time who were amazing artists, I would be the first to say that I was lousy.

My paintings--see several at this link--were all gimmick, with no real talent or technique.

When I left L.A., I gave one of the paintings shown here--It Used to Be OK--to my friend, Ray Cuevas, a longtime painter who has sold numerous works through prestigious galleries and auctions.

Ray is also an extensive collector who obviously knows great art, but yet he loved my piece of garbage.

In addition to liking my concept of cutting apart the letters "OK" and colorizing the pieces by masking the areas around them, to this day Ray praises my "brilliant use of white space."

I don't really believe it, but remain happy that Ray liked what I did, even if my painting is undoubtedly hidden behind piles of others in his garage. Still, I certainly don't think it, or any of my silly paintings, merited any money.

Seth Arkin - HOPE, 1993

But now I'm thinking I never should have cut apart the O and K.

If the value of "FOOL" is to be believed, "OK" could be worth millions.

Or perhaps, my my slightly more literal "HOPE" is.

I think that one's at my mom's house, in case any world-class museums want to make an inquiry.

Or if you would like to make an offer.

Bidding starts at $1.3 million.

But I'd be thrilled with $19.95.

More works by Christopher Wool

Picture This: Chicago Blackhawks vs. Pittsburgh Penguins in the Snow at Soldier Field -- March 1, 2014

Last night, I went to Soldier Field to watch the Chicago Blackhawks play the Pittsburgh Penguins in an NHL Stadium Series game.

I don't know what the official temperature was, or the wind chill, but it was pretty damn cold and it snowed for most of the game.

Still, excepting my feet becoming blocks of ice, it wasn't too uncomfortable, and it was a lot of fun.

The Hawks won 5-1, and today it seems I survived no worse for wear, excepting a few sniffles and a bit of a scratchy voice.

After a goose-bumping rendition of the National Anthem--with trademark Hawks fan cheering throughout--I also really enjoyed singing along with the crowd, not just on The Fratellis' "Chelsea Dagger" after each home goal, but on PA-pumping pleasures like The Beastie Boys' "Fight for Your Right to Party," AC/DC's "TNT" and Tom Petty's "The Waiting," the latter during an officials' goal review.

In other words, anything to stay active during the down time was a good thing. 

I was in the cheapest seats, down close to the football field--which ironically for a Bears game and even with a similar vantage point for a Hawks game at the United Center, would be among the most expensive--and taking pictures with a Canon Elph point & shoot with double gloves on each hand.

But as my little camera has a great "burst" feature which takes multiple consecutive shots with a single click, I took nearly 2,000 pictures over the course of 3+ hours.

Here's a selection of some of the best, with captions on most and a few videos:

From the bus on the East Side of Soldier Field, arriving at the game.

Waiting to get in, I thought this was fun:

My first glimpse of the field, and rink, with a kids' rink as well.

The Penquins taking the ice.

Here come the Hawks.

Awaiting the anthem.

Video I shot of the entire anthem:

Just before the game-opening face-off. The guy in front of me knocked my arm in excitement during
the actual face-off, so I didn't get any decent photos of it.

A small kerfuffle.

Game action in the snow.

More game action in the snow.

Celebrating the Hawks' first goal:

The game was sold out and seemed mostly full throughout, despite the weather.

Sidney Crosby and Jonathan Toews, good friends, Canadian teammates, good friends and two of the best.

Sharp and Crosby

What's a little snow?

"Fight for Your Right to Party"

The Ice Crew really worked hard, with multiple stops each period to shovel off the snow.

Time almost up (and a good test for my camera's burst feature, which caught 7 frames in the final 1.0)

A nice tradition.

Hawks win and we all go home happy. Except the Penguins fans.

All photos and videos above by Seth Arkin. Please provide attribution if re-posting. 
For a selection of professional photos from the game, click here.

Come Hear the Music Play: On a Stellar NU 'Cabaret' and a Visit to the CSO

Brief recaps & reviews without specific ratings:

Cabaret
Ethel Barber Theater
Northwestern University, Evanston
Thru March 2

---

Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Program of Stravinsky & Ravel
February 27, 2014
Repeats March 1, 2014

I generally don't review college theater productions and don't feel qualified to critique a classical music concert, but wanted to broach on a couple fine performances I attended the last two nights.

In both cases, I was treated to my ticket, all the more reason not to invoke anything approaching pointed criticism.

But as the Northwestern University production of Cabaret and the particular Chicago Symphony Orchestra program I saw have performances tonight, and in the case of the former, tomorrow, I thought I'd make a point of recommending both.

Particularly a rather terrific rendition of Cabaret, for which cheap tickets are listed on HotTix.

The Kander & Ebb masterpiece centered around a Berlin cabaret on the precipice of Nazi rule is one of my favorite musicals of all-time. I've liked it every time I've seen it, including a professional version by Light Opera Works on the Northwestern campus last August, but I found this student-based production even more satisfying.

As one expects from students of NU's acclaimed Theater & Interpretation Center, the singing was superb throughout, with impressive work by Ella Pennington (Sally Bowles), Fergus Inder (the Emcee), Ryan Bernsten (Cliff Bradshaw), Meghan Stanton (Fraulein Schneider) and Jared Corak (Herr Schultz). Which isn't to infer that anyone else wasn't good; the entire cast did a great job.

Directed by Nick Bowling, who has done much stellar work on TimeLine Theatre productions, this version can certainly serve as an excellent introduction to anyone unfamiliar with one of the true masterpieces of musical theater, and likely should please anyone who has long loved Cabaret.

---

I don't get down to Orchestra Hall, Symphony Center or whatever it's called these days as much as I should. And most recently I'd been there for a terrific jazz concert, so it was a pleasure to again see and hear the great Chicago Symphony Orchestra at full bore.

Which actually serves to explain what I loved, and only liked, about Thursday's performance, which repeats again tonight after doing so last night.

The evening's selections were curated by Pierre Boulez, the CSO's conductor emeritus, who was supposed to lead the program until he was precluded from traveling (he's nearing 89 years of age).

As excellently explained by Laura Stanfield Prichard in a pre-concert conversation--I recommend attending anytime you can--Boulez likes to subvert traditional orchestral programming, and thus chose to follow a full-orchestra piece (Igor Stravinsky's Symphony in Three Movements) with eight Stravinsky "miniatures" of about a minute each.

Also within the 80-minute pre-intermission set were Chansons madecasses and Pribaoutki--both series of short operatic songs by Maurice Ravel, well-sung by mezzo-soprano J'nai Bridges--and a partial-orchestra Concertina by Stravinsky.

The "second act" had just three short works--two Stravinsky, one Ravel--and like all the pieces, were introduced on video by Boulez.

While I appreciate Boulez' intent in melding various types of works into an evening's CSO performance, as a classical musical neophyte I found things rather disjointed after the sublime 30-minute opening, full-bore piece.

And like many, I imagine, who don't innately know classical music, I like it most when played loud and/or fast. Thus Stravinsky's Symphony in Three Movements and the final piece--listed as Ravel's Alborada del gracioso, but the Boulez' videos left me uncertain if works were played in program guide order--were the most pleasing, as they let the whole bunch of gifted musicians blast away, so to speak.

I didn't like anything I heard as much as Mozart and Beethoven works I actually know, but everything was well-done, and made for a very pleasing re-acquaintance with the CSO, one of Chicago's great cultural treasures.

I hope to get there again sooner than I had this time. .

United (Center) in Song: Paul Simon and Sting Prove a Terrifically Tuneful Tandem -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Paul Simon and Sting

United Center, Chicago

February 25, 2014

@@@@1/2

When I first heard that Paul Simon and Sting were touring together, I didn't instantly seek to buy a ticket despite never having seen either in a solo incarnation.

This isn't to suggest I don't have great regard for their respective musical legacies.

Although I have found Sting's persona insufferable to the point of largely ignoring his music for years, I think his work with The Police is predominantly brilliant--though the 2007 reunion show I saw at Wrigley was marred by Sting's affected vocal gyrations that appended several of their classic songs--and much of his solo stuff solid and even stellar.

Despite having seen him live just once, on a 2003 Simon & Garfunkel outing, I believe Paul Simon stands securely as one of rock's greatest songwriters ever. But while much of his solo oeuvre is terrific and also groundbreaking, given his explorations of world music, he nonetheless is a prime example of my "Paul Principle," which states that rock 'n roll Pauls--also including Mssrs. McCartney, Weller and Westerberg--are better in groups or duos than as subsequent solo artists. While I realize some may consider Simon's work without Garfunkel more estimable in its scope, just in terms of many more songs I truly love I far prefer the S&G canon to Paul's on his own.

But with my appreciation for Simon counteracting a latter-day aversion to Sting, who supposedly was rather good at Ravinia last summer, when my friend Paolo and I noticed just last week that decent seats at the cheapest price point were still readily available for Tuesday's United Center show, especially after noting impressive setlists at earlier tour stops I agreed that we should buy a pair.

And I'm really glad we did.

Despite being a somewhat unusual pairing, the "Englishman in New York" (played) and "Only Living Boy in New York" (not played) were really quite wonderful On Stage Together--the tour name--in Chicago.

The 8:00pm show started promptly at 8:15pm with no opening act as Paul and Gordon--Sting's given name--took the stage with the latter's "Brand New Day." In tandem, and with both their bands, they then tackled Simon's "The Boy in the Bubble" and Sting's "Fields of Gold" before proceeding to trade off performing individual sets--two each of about 5-6 songs per--with only occasional intersection prior to the encores. (see the full Paul Simon & Sting Chicago setlist on Setlist.fm)

Primarily, to my preference, performing the songs the way he wrote them, Sting initially ran through "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic," "Englishman in New York," "I Hung My Head," "Driven to Tears," and "Walking on the Moon."

Later, after covering Simon & Garfunkel's "America" with Paul offstage, he would play "Message in a Bottle," "Desert Rose" and "Roxanne" among others.

Simon also played several wonderful songs, including "Mother and Child Reunion," "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover," "Graceland," "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard," "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes," "The Obvious Child" and a cover of "Mystery Train," made famous by Elvis, which Paul called his favorite song.

If, at this point, you're saying to yourself, "That's a lot of good songs," you get the general idea. For the entire 160 minutes Paul Simon and/or Sting were onstage, the music was enjoyable, often delightful and at times transcendent.

Of the 32 songs played, there wasn't a bad one in the bunch, although many of most special were those where the two stars sang together.

These included the opening three and even more so Sting's "Fragile," Simon's "Late in the Evening," Simon & Garfunkel's "The Boxer" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water"--truly sublime as the first song of the encore, followed by The Police's "Every Breath You Take" and the show-closing homage to the Everly Brothers, "When Will I Be Loved," written by the recently passed Phil Everly.

While the show in full was outstanding--and Paolo seemed to like it even a bit more than I did--it was so simply through the power of great songs, and at times a bit short in the realm of overt excitement (i.e. in the 3rd deck, we never stood, which was fine with me but also a bit telling).

And as the tour is billed as "Paul Simon and Sting On Stage Together," I think it could have benefited from even more collaboration and musical exchange.

For instance, while Sting covered Paul (& Art) with a nice take on "America"--after conveying how much the song meant to him while on The Police's first tour of the States--I thought the vice-versa might also have been nice.

Odd as it may sound--though seemingly apt given the uniqueness of the co-headlining coupling--I think Paul doing a solo acoustic cover of "De Do Do Do De Da Da Da," acknowledging what a genius creator of intimate popcraft Sting also has been, could have been marvelous.

It certainly wouldn't be hard to name several great songs from each man's past that went unplayed--and with Art Garfunkel's voice supposedly on the mend after years of difficulty, the specter of a Simon & Garfunkel tour may have limited the desire to include too many S&G classics--but I think "Cecilia" could have been a natural tandem choice given the reggae roots that run through it and much of the Police's early output.

And even though Simon's "You Can Call Me Al," which closed the main set, was a delight, it seemed strange that Sting stayed off-stage, as not only would his singing alongside Paul have recalled the old music video with Chevy Chase, but few songs seem better suited for a phenomenal bass player.

Having begun just a couple weeks ago, the Paul Simon and Sting tour continues for another three weeks or so, with about a dozen more shows currently scheduled. If you can catch one in a city near you, particularly at a bargain price like we did, do so as there aren't many concerts you will see with a higher percentage of great music over nearly 3 hours.

For me, it was the perfect way to see Sting "solo"--I sense this was more pleasing than his Ravinia shows would have been--as well as Simon sans Garfunkel, and the the show truly enhanced my regard for each artist on his own.

But my favorite parts were when they were On Stage Together, and as Simon had remarked they are changing things up a bit as they go, perhaps another city will benefit from an increasingly venturesome partnership.