Items filtered by date: November 2007

Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde, running through March 23 at Strawdog Theatre, is an exciting rendering of the courtroom battles that led to a fatal fall from grace for 19th century literary genius Oscar Wilde.

It is hard to imagine now, with the growing empowerment of the LGBT-plus community, that Wilde’s career was completely destroyed when his attraction to men was discovered and proven. He was sentenced to two years of hard labor, and he lost all his assets and his income, dying nearly destitute three years later.

Promethean Ensemble’s wonderful presentation of Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde (actually a revival of a 2016 production by these talented players), brings us playwright Moisés Kaufman’s 1997 debut work, which won an Outer Critics Circle Award for outstanding Off-Broadway play in New York.

The play has aged well, and is exceptionally well crafted, and carefully researched, drawing from court records, and liberally sprinkled with Wilde’s memorably entertaining expressions. It has all the power of a court room drama, and all the flair of Wilde’s colorful life and friends.

The Promethean Ensemble is in its element, with a work that is loaded with excellent language, and demanding versatility – as 8 actors take on more than 25 characters, plus Wilde. He was a great speaker and writer, and Jamie Bragg’s performance in the lead conveys his brilliant intellect, and great humor. The cast is large, and the characters plentiful – and while the casting includes several women playing men’s roles, gender identities disappear for the audience as soon as the performances commence.

Because it is a revival of an earlier production, with largely the same cast, Promethean hit the ground running even before opening night. Directed by Brian Pastor, the costumes by Uriel Gomez have a creative steam punk that cross the boundaries from 19th century to contemporary leather and safety pin fetishism. 

The first act describes Wilde’s creative world and his social circle, and at one point we leap to the present, as a scholar explains to a television interviewer that in his time, Wilde would not have conceived of himself as “gay,” but merely as a creative aesthete, who was unbound by contemporary mores and taboos, modeling himself after the ancient Greeks in his love for young men.

Wilde was “outed” by the Marquess of Queensbury, accusing him publicly of being homosexual in an effort to end Wilde’s relationship with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas. The Three Trials part follows from Wilde suing Queensbury for defamation, but losing when it was proven that he did have sex with men.

This evidence brought a new trial as Wilde was charged with "committing acts of gross indecency with other male persons," a crime against a recently adopted law. We see enacted the excellent defense mounted by Wilde’s lawyer. But the trial ended in a hung jury, and Wilde was convicted in the third trial, and went to prison.

Wilde’s reputation was reclaimed over the decades, largely by the power of his writing. He is perhaps the second most prized author in English letters for such perfectly realized works las his novel, A Portrait of Dorian Gray, or his plays that remain popular to this day, such as Lady Windermere’s Fan, The Importance of Being Ernest, or The Ideal Husband.

Watching this show, I whispered to myself, “Brexit!” For the play brought to mind a rigidity seen in British Government, which under a Victorian sodomy law, felt duty-bound to continue its unfortunate legal pursuit of him – despite several junctures at which it would have been possible to do so gracefully.

Bound by expectations in a rigid social structure, the Crown’s legal apparatus went over a cliff with Wilde as they destroyed one of the leading lights of British culture, on behalf of the nobility class. (Likewise they are headed over a cliff by slavishly following the Brexit plebiscite – in my humble opinion.)

There is great tragedy there, both in Wilde's original decision to sue for slander, and in his ruin. At the time, Wilde had two immensely popular plays on London’s West End. These closed, cutting off his revenue, and allowing creditors to seize his assets, amid a scandal that, as we learn in Gross Indecency, he largely initiated himself. The Promethean Ensemble show runs through March 23 at Strawdog Theatre, and it is highly recommended.

You may need several moments to come down after witnessing Steppenwolf’s stunning, let me say truly astounding new production of a play by Jackie Sibblies Drury. This powerful work was ahead of its time when it premiered in 2012 at Chicago’s Victory Gardens Theatre – eventually heading for off-Broadway and recognition in multiple awards, but under appreciated at the time, and neglected afterward. But now perhaps the world is better able to receive it.

It tells the story of a high school class enacting a historical recount of three decades of German occupation of what is now Namibia (formerly Southwest Africa), ending with World War I. It was a period replete with the worst of Colonialism, with land theft, cultural destruction, and a deliberate genocide against the Herero people.

The play’s unlikely long name suggests the earnestness of the students producing it: “We Are Proud to Present a Presentation About the Herero of Namibia, Formerly Known as South West Africa, From the German Sudwestafrika, Between the Years 1884-1915.” Since there is little written record from anyone but the occupiers, the students begin with letters written home by German soldiers, and incorporating factual details from other records.

As with any production, the student actors seek the motivation of their characters, and the roles they play. They tell fundamentals like geography and language in a lighthearted engaging way, capturing the audience. As the story progresses, though, and the German government asserts increasingly stringent control, the students must act out cruel and even violent behavior – and they begin to resist. Learning 80 percent of the Herero men were killed in this period, students are overwhelmed and do not want to re-enact the scenes.

"We're talking about a rehearsal for the Holocaust," says one student, horrified. But another corrects him. "It wasn't a rehearsal," he says. 

Yet their teacher pushes them on, beyond the brink, to unbearable acts and emotions, and the audience moves with them. The performances by the cast show real stars on the rise: Will Allan (Actor 3/Another White Man), Terry Bell (Actor 2/Black Man), Taylor Blim (Actor 5/Sarah), Jeffrey Owen Freelon Jr. (Actor 4/Another Black Man) Michael Holding (Actor 1/White Man), and Jennifer Latimore (Actor 6/Black Woman). The performances of Allen, Freelon, Holding, Bell and Blim blew me away, their parts demanding extreme versatility, or in the case of Bell, deep emotion and sentiment.

Playwright Drury gives us a concatenation of the inhumane treatment of tribes by the occupying army in Africa, to the treatment of African-Americans under Jim Crow. These scenes are especially unsettling, and we are reminded of the consequences of laying waste to the social mores that keep us civilized. With social movements like Black Lives Matter, #Oscarssowhite, and following Charlotte and NFL protests, the public at large may be better able to understand this aspect of the play - but it is gut wrenching.

We Are Proud to Present a Presentation… is a consequential work of art, reminiscent of Master Harold & The Boys and Miss Margarita’s Way, which similarly trace the seemingly inevitable power of sinister social forces. Director Hallie Gordon (she co-directed it with Gabrielle Randle) says to reconstitute the account of the tribal people, the production called on the work of Toni Morrison and others who employ "critical fabulation" to reconstitute histories of lost peoples, as well as existentialists like Brecht and or Beckett.

This production of We Are Proud to Present a Presentation is aimed at young audiences and will tour schools and Park Districts after it closes on Halsted. It is without question serious material, and an important production for everyone - the opportunity to see it should not be missed. It comes highly recommended, and runs only through March 23 at Steppenwolf Theatre.

Lookingglass Theatre, known for its excellent production values and its incomparable space at the Water Tower pumping station, brings us an intriguing new work, Act(s) of God. 

Billed as an existential dark comedy, but really much more of a farce, it is a “guess who’s coming to dinner” tale of cosmic proportions. Written by troupe member and actor Kareem Bandealy and directed by Heidi Stillman, the show spares nothing in quality of effort and has an intriguing storyline, but runs off the rails by the third act. 

It opens on a middle-class family home where Father (Rom Barkhordar) and Mother (Shannon Cochran in an outstanding performance) await the homecoming of their boy Middle (Anthony Irons) and his girl Fiancée (Emjoy Gavino). Their two other children will also be arriving soon, a daughter Eldest (Kristina Valada-Viars) and another son, Youngest (Walter Briggs).

Sorting the mail, Mother listens to a radio report on the imminent passage near earth of the asteroid, Apophis, while she and Father reveal in passing that it is April 2029 – a date that gains in significance. Other rather witty exposition tells us how much (and how little) the world has advanced from the present. “Everyone’s driving solar cars, but why do we still have junk mail?” Mother asks.

In the mail pile Mother finds an unusual letter, but she can’t tear the envelope, nor can Father, nor the other children as they each arrive. No one can, that is, until Eldest arrives, disturbing the others who are deep in a stylized, futuristic New Age prayer ritual. (In a  droll touch, Bandealy has them ask God not for forgiveness, but to “Help us forgive ourselves.”) As it turns out Eldest is not only an atheist but also a lesbian, things which estrange her from the family. And perhaps to the detriment of this script, Eldest is a writer. But she is able to open the letter, revealing that it contains a message from God: he’s coming for dinner tomorrow night.

The plot thickens promisingly, and great deal of angst and stress accompanies preparations for their guests’ arrival, with Mother begging the rest, “Please don’t embarrass me in front of God.”

But the play takes a turn for the worse, as family tensions and dynamics fill the remainder of a way too-long show (three acts, two intermissions). These scenes are full of drama, but they do not a play make.  And while Bandealy’s characters are clearly defined personalities, jousting continuously, they seem only vaguely related to each other. Was it a matter of casting or direction?

Perhaps it’s the script – which is not fully jelled. Much of the dialog is actors reciting lengthy written texts, well stated, but mostly unconvincing as spoken language. This is slightly less of an issue with Mother, Youngest, and Fiancee, but is especially a problem with Eldest, who talks over the other characters in sometimes interminable diatribes and expository essays. Such character types have been known to represent the author.

There are also unconvincing dramatic moments, as when Father falls asleep sitting up in a chair for almost an entire Act, while a wild family wrestling and shouting match surrounds him. Or the siblings and Mother sitting unnaturally rigid and immobile throughout a scene as Father comes and goes from the kitchen, talking a mile a minute. 

Bandealy does give each character a moment of glory, with a signal monologue: in the son Middle’s take-down of his sister, Anthony Irons is moving and convincing. In Father’s recitation of an invented religious parable, Rom Barkhordar is flawless. Likewise, Shannon Cochran, who in what might be a ranting soliloquy decrying the raw deal given her by motherhood, instead sings her lines to the accompaniment of a baroque sinfonietta. It’s surpassingly than charming.

Oh yes, and God comes and goes, unseen by us. But we do hear him like a “passing wind” (a nice inside joke for religious folks, he is flatulent on a cosmic scale as well, it turns out). The date of God’s arrival, April 14, 2029, is repeated so frequently in the dialog I looked it up in Wikipedia. It is the day a large asteroid will come within 19,000 miles of the Earth – which clarifies the radio report in the opening minutes of Act(s) of God. 

The set by Brian Sidney Bembridge – the living and dining room of a middle-class family home – is wonderfully appointed, and conveys that indeterminate futuristic point in time with a mix of furnishings dating from 1920 deco and ersatz 1950s French provincial, to mid-century modern and contemporary retro, along with futuristic sconces and wall paper. 

The set matters, as it must also provide a climactic end to the play. But it was not a particularly satisfying one. The coincidence of a visit from God and an asteroid flyby gives a reasonable platform for an existential dark comedy, but hours of family squabbling didn't seem very existential or funny. There’s some good in Act(s) of God, and some great bits, so it's somewhat recommended if you have the patience for it. It will be at Lookingglass Theatre through April 7, 2019.

The Total Bent is a musical show so delightful I wish I could shrink it down, put it in a shoebox and show it to all my friends. But you can (and should) go see it full scale at Den Theatre, where it runs through March 10.

Ostensibly the story traces a British record producer’s effort to record a Gospel music prodigy in Montgomery, Alabama. But to be truthful the real story told by playwrights Heidi Rodewald and Stew depict with color and verve the personal journey of a creative spirit – Marty Roy (Gilbery Domally) – as he finds his voice and attains fame on a global stage.

All that is set against a sweeping portrait of the tense interplay between black music and African-American culture as the Civil Rights movement seized the day. It is told through the oedipal battle of a father and son who are at odds around matters, spiritual, social and musical.

The Total Bent features Chicago treasure Robert Cornelius as Montgomery preacher Joe Roy who has built his career as a Bible-thumping televangelist and Gospel music recording artist. This role taps Cornelius's wonderfully expressive baritone, and his stentorian delivery in the dialog.

But it is Gilbery Domally, as Joe’s young adult son, who steals the show, channelling the role of Marty Roy. He is dazzling! Domally is more like a force of nature than mere performer as he traverses a role that sees him evolve from his father’s hidden spiritual musical muse, moving across multiple musical styles and stage personae as he navigates toward his creative apotheosis on the world stage.

All this is told with an acerbic wit, and that ironic twist we get from the likes of Donald Glover, Jordan Peel, and Spike Lee.
From the moment Marty Roy prances onto the stage, we are treated to a continuous critique of his father, and an uproarious and irreverent running commentary on the conflicts between those clinging to the status quo in the Jim Crow South, as Black Power emerged.

Joe Roy is celebrated for his inspiring, traditional Gospel songs. But to keep the song mill moving, he relied on his wife, now gone, and now his son Marty, to pen the music. As the social revolution rocks Montgomery and the South, Marty encourages his father to tap into it in his preaching and singing, and provides him a lovely song with a scathing refrain: “That’s why he’s Jesus and you’re not, Whitey.” Marty asks the Music Director (Jermain Hill, who also plays Deacon Charlie, is a stitch) to do a retake: "Try a less church-y sound," he says. "I am such a pest!" 

Siding with social conservatives, “This protesting stuff is going to ruin everything,” Joe Roy tells his son. “Is there any real money in it?” He advises Montgomery's white people to ride the buses to combat the boycott by blacks that was launched by Rosa Parks. “If our spiritual rights were in order, we wouldn’t need no civil rights,” he advises his African-American followers.

Then Marty Roy skips across to stage right, waves his hand, and offers an explanation to the audience (it's hard to imagine today, but most white people regarded Parks as a villain): “This all be the past, and shit.” Rather than labor in his father's vineyard, Marty sets out to become a secular music writer, and we watch him transform in stages, becoming a James Brown soul singer with carefully choreographed back-ups, to a Prince-like apparition who has continuous bookings in London.

The Total Bent is largely a sung work, with limited amounts of dialog. It is the latest theatrical script by the creative team of Heidi Rodewald, and Stew. The two rose to fame with Passing Strange, which won a Tony, an Obie, and a Drama Critics Circle Award in 2008. Stew (he doesn’t use his last name, See) is a singer, songwriter, and leader of a pop-rock band in Los Angeles called The Negro Problem, which recorded Post Minstrel Syndrome in 1997. As this background suggest, Stew mines a rich vein of “detached black irony” in his creations.

The music is wonderful, two band members also characters: Frederick Harris as Deacon Dennis; and Jermain Hill as Deacon Charlie. Outstanding also were supporting cast members Michael Turrentine as Andrew and Breon Arzell as Abee – the duo deftly taking on a variety of comical roles as church ladies and bumpkins.

Among so many striking aspects of the show, we get to see and hear several songs composed, Joe Roy's sacred version, then a retake by Marty Roy in a profane rock style. One such is "Sinner I Know You're Lost." It's a lovely classic hymn as Joe Roy originates it; but it is transporting when Marty Roy redoes it in a swinging rock style, coupled with the refrain, "I gotta get up on the cross." 

The Total Bent is highly recommended on its own merits, and especially to see Gilbery Domally’s amazing performance. Jointly produced by Haven Theatre and About Face Theatre, it features dummer Christian Moreno on drums, Anthony Rodriguez on winds, Derek Duleba on guitar, and Kurt Shelby on Bass. It’s at the Den Theatre through March 17.

Opening night, February 21, 2019, at Drury Lane Theatre brought yet another colorful, energy- charged musical, this time in its latest production, "Mamma Mia!" Always a totally enjoyable night out, this production held tight the integrity of the original production and even threw in a few special surprises. Being a fan of both the movie and the stage musical, I noted early on how the producers of this particular play 'mixed it up' to bring the same story line while using their own style, effectively putting their own stamp on it.

If you are not familiar with the musical that features a wonderful Abba-filled soundtrack, the story takes place on a Greek island where Donna Sheridan, along with her daughter Sophie have made a life by opening a cozy, boutique hotel along the oceanfront. Business is good and their life doesn’t come without the usual problems, but it’s a good life.

The story really begins when twenty-year-old Sophie announces she is getting married. Donna wants to throw an amazing wedding and the planning begins. The only problem is that Sophie really wants her father to walk her down the aisle, but she has no idea who her father is. So…what does she do? She pries through her mother’s journal and narrows her father down to three men that Donna documented sleeping with just under a year before Sophie was born. Now knowing which one of the three is her father, Sophie invites all three – without her mother knowing. The hilarity really begins once the three show up on the island for the wedding and, thus, the guessing game commences.

Rebecca Hurd's performance as Sophie Sheridan, is wonderfully done, and her singing voice extremely good, as her range speaks for itself.  Donna, played by Susie McMonagle, also meets the challenge singing a variety of fun and emotional songs, while coming across nicely as Sophie’s caring and protective mother. Especially standing out was one of Donna's love from the past was Sam, portrayed by Jeff Parker. Unlike 'Pierce Bronson' who minimally sang in the movie, Jeff wows us with his powerful, engaging voice many times during the play.

The song 'Dancing Queen' done by the trio of friends, Donna, Rosie (Elizabeth Ledo) and Tanya (McKinely Carter), a.k.a. Donna and the Dynamos many years earlier, reminded the friends of a time in their life when there wasn't a care in the world – and it comes across throughout the theatre perfectly. The way they sang together couldn't help but make the audience smile. The trio together, and in their individual performances, adds an extra dose of fun to the performance!

Liam Quealy who played Sky, Sophie's fiancé had his friends rallying around him to celebrate the upcoming wedding. One very funny moment is when Sky and his friends dance on stage in full swim gear to ‘Under Attack’ causing the audience to laugh at the antics. The song and dance numbers are many, each time energy, coordination and amazing talent taking over the stage. Compliments to the creative folks behind that act, and so many others during the two-hour-thirty-minute performance.

The entire cast and ensemble are wonderful as the Abba hits keep rolling from beginning to end.  “Mama Mia” is a dreamy, uplifting production that is sure to please.

"SOS" - Get your tickets to see “Mamma Mia” at Drury Lane Theatre in Oakbrook Terrace.  Playing from February 21st – April 14th, tickets can be purchased at www.drurylanetheatre.com.

Good news! The future of American opera is looking very bright, indeed! The beautiful and moving new opera, The Scarlet Ibis, was presented last Saturday and Thursday by Chicago Opera Theater as part of their Vanguard Initiative, a program to mentor emerging opera composers, commission and develop new operas, and connect audiences to exciting new works and creators.

The opera, with music composed by Stefan Weisman and libretto by David Cote, is based on the short story of the same name by James Hurst. If this touching, extraordinary production is indicative of what we can expect in the future from COT’s Vanguard Initiative, this is a great day for opera!

Lyrical and atmospheric, the music draws upon the best of 20th century American opera, not in a derivative way, but as you might say that Verdi’s style organically grew out of the Bel Canto tradition of Donizetti and Bellini, which depended upon compositional elements of Mozart and Gluck, which were spawned by Handel, Vivaldi, and Lully. The greatness of these composers was entirely dependent upon those who came before, and established a knowledge base of how to compose for the human voice. Much of the difficulty that many audiences have had with modern American opera, especially mid to late 20th Century opera, is that the compositional styles of those composers were created out of whole cloth, with no prior vocal tradition which allowed their music to be sing-able. The Scarlet Ibis, however, shows a burgeoning maturity in the compositional style and technique of modern opera. Although scored for a small ensemble, the open harmonies and folk-like strains of Weisman’s music are reminiscent of Copeland. Arpeggios and repeated patterns (don’t call it “minimalism”) hint at influence from composers such as Philip Glass and John Adams, although this work is mostly melodically sweet and flowing, without those driving rhythms associated with works by Adams or Glass. And when called for theatrically, the music becomes nearly Stravinskian, with more complex harmonies and lush texture. However, Mr. Weisman has found a voice of his own, guided by the demands of the drama, and the abilities and needs of the human voice. The vocal writing seemed tailor made for the remarkable cast, and lines that were eminently sing-able carried the listener along for an enthralling ride.

As in Copeland’s The Tender Land, the libretto is artfully crafted to capture the colloquial time and place of the story with succinct economy of language. Nevertheless the narrative is clear, with defining voices for each individual character. Every scene is simple, but imbued with a deep sense of poetry and humanity.

David Hanlon conducted with sensitivity and expertise, bringing out the loveliness and power of the score. Under his capable direction, the nine piece orchestra played superbly, without some of the pitch problems in the strings which have been disappointing in earlier productions. Hanlon was always there for the singers, fluently in control as if The Scarlet Ibis was an opera he’d known and loved for years.

Stage and Movement Director Elizabeth Margolius is the kind of opera director who seems to be more and more rare, these days. She is a director who completely trusts her singers and her material to be inherently interesting on their own, without the need to add a lot of meaningless stage business and movement because she is afraid that the audience will become bored. She understands that a singer does not have to be in constant motion, and that a good singer can remain perfectly still, that time can slow down and stretch, yet there will still be intense focus and attention from the audience. This is especially useful when the leading character can’t walk. Doodle’s “Lie” aria, in which he sat nearly perfectly still, was a stellar example. On the extremely simple, but versatile and attractive unit set, Ms. Margolius used the space with great imagination and skill. Nothing ever happened which didn’t make sense. Every movement, every sound, was expertly motivated and realistic.

Set in the home of the Armstrong family in the north-eastern Piedmont region of North Carolina, just after the Wright brothers had made human flight successful at nearby Kitty Hawk, the imagery of the possibilities of the flight of the human soul pervades The Scarlet Ibis. It is comprised of 13 brief titled scenes in one act, and runs just over an hour and a half, although it seemed to take only half that time. Each scene featured an event in the lives of the small rural family over the course of about six or seven years. The opera opens in a fairly straightforward manner. Six year old Brother, the family’s only child, is joyfully anticipating the birth of the family’s second child, who he hopes can be a companion with whom he can run, and jump, and fight, and play. The focus then shifts to his mother. In a scene unique in opera, in our experience, she is having a difficult childbirth. It is quickly apparent that if the baby survives, something will be terribly wrong. It is a boy, but he is a “caul” baby, a child who is born with part of the amniotic sack covering its head like a cowl. Many mystical qualities are attributed to caul babies and to cauls, themselves. Caul babies are reputed to have abilities such as second sight, great creativity, and unfettered imaginations. Cauls themselves, are prized by sailors to prevent drowning, by lawyers to help them win cases, and are thought by some Adriatic cultures to aid in the peaceful passing of the dying. Most disappointing to Brother, the baby also has a severe, but unspecified disability which leaves him incapable of walking and being the playmate that Brother wanted. In a fit of pique, Brother gives the baby the nickname, Doodle, because the only thing a doodlebug can do is push itself around backwards. However, Doodle is special in other ways, teaching himself to read by the age of four, with a flawless and prodigious memory, and an unparalleled imagination.

Jordan Rutter, as Doodle, was a revelation – a term we do not use lightly. He radiated pure innocence with an underlying poetic soul. His countertenor voice, soaring above all the others as the highest vocal part in the opera, is unusually pretty for the type. Mr. Rutter’s singing was moving and affecting throughout, especially in the ensembles and the duets with Brother. Equally remarkable, are Mr. Rutter’s acting skills. As an adult playing the role of a very young child to the age of about seven, he has a directness, simplicity, and economy of movement which are riveting in their expressivity.

Likewise, mezzo-Soprano Annie Rosen was thrilling in the “overalls” role of Brother, playing a boy who ages from about six to thirteen throughout the opera, with a total commitment to her character. She has a gorgeous, clear voice with an extraordinary color palette. She sang with talent, intelligence, and sensitivity, going from boyishly silly or mocking tones to a full, rich sound in moments of deep expressivity. Ms. Rosen is not a large woman, yet she exhibited an impressive physicality and strength as she lifted and carried the adult male actor playing Doodle around in the kind of stage action not usually expected from a female singer. Her future in opera should be brilliant. Both Ms. Rosen and Mr. Rutter made us completely forget that they are adults playing the roles of very young boys.

We have been continuously delighted and impressed with the talent of baritone Bill McMurray. His sturdy baritone is capable of a range of color that bordered on fearsome as Ibn-Hakia in Iolanta earlier this season, but was warm and paternal in this role. He portrayed the role of Father with pathos, dignity, and an uncanny honesty. Every time Father is faced with a crisis, either of sadness or joy, he goes to his shop to build something by hand for Doodle. He is a proud and loving man with little education and few resources, but he has knowledge and talent with wood, so he does the best he can with what little he has. He is not fluent or articulate with words, so he expresses himself through his craft. Each time Mr. McMurray went to his shop, it brought tears to our eyes, either from sadness or gladness. His “Coffin” aria was heart wrenching in the direct simplicity of a father’s pain. Later, when Doodle’s physical disability threatens to also stunt the growth of his mind by confining him to his home, Father expresses his frustration at not being able to afford a bicycle for his son by building him a red wagon in which to explore the world. In his “Red Wagon” aria, McMurray perfectly captures a simple working man’s determination to make his son’s life better than his own.

COT Young Artist alumni Quinn Middleman brought tenderness and a gentle presence to the role of Mother. Her fine, warm mezzo-soprano voice easily met the challenge of vocal demands which included musically notated high notes for sung screams and groans during the first scene’s difficult childbirth. Ms. Middleman musically gave us all of a woman’s pain, fear, agony, joy, and strength while in the throes of one of life’s essential moments. It is common for singers to die on stage, but we have never heard one give birth. However, when Mother discovers a newspaper article about a doctor in Chicago who might offer the possibility of a cure for her son’s disability, Ms. Middleman touchingly exchanged excitement and optimism for the pathos of the forlorn hope of an unattainable goal.

Contralto Sharmay Musacchio sang the role of Auntie. She seemed hesitant at times, as if she needed a little more time with the role to get it into her voice and find the truth in the character. Her performance, while not quite up to the high standard of her colleagues on stage, was more than adequate and did not detract. It’s just that the rest of the singers were so darn perfect in their roles.

It should be noted that music written for three female voices of the same general type and range could have been muddy and undistinguished. However, Mr. Weisman’s excellent vocal part writing, abetted by perfect vocal casting choices on the part of COT, was always marvelously clear and distinct, allowing each of the voices to shine with characterization.

The singers were joined by dancer Ginny Ngo, who portrayed the Bird, the title role, if you will, physicalizing the opera’s overarching and multifaceted theme of flight. Ms. Ngo appeared variously as a doppelgänger for Doodle, a rather spooky owl, as the actual scarlet ibis, and as Doodle’s soul free from the confines of his deformed earthly body. Whether representing the flight of imagination, the flight of the human spirit, or the flight of the human soul, Ms. Ngo’s movement was birdlike, but brimming with human emotion. In the disquieting penultimate scene, the ibis finally appears, storm blown far from where it should be and out of place in an inhospitable environment, like the not-normal little boy.

Scenic Designer Jack Magaw provided the creative and workable set. Charlie Cooper’s breathtaking lighting design was at once clean and atmospheric, while actually being illuminating. Even in scenes which were dark, emotions on the singers’ faces could still be seen clearly. The costumes designed by Brenda Winstead were appropriately plain, yet never uninteresting. An especially nice and amusing touch was Doodle’s goofy pilot’s helmet subtly reinforcing the flight symbolism. How gratifying to see all elements of a production come together in service to the whole of the work. We laughed, cried, hoped, celebrated and mourned with the Armstrong family.

Only one performance remains, Sunday, February 24 at 3:00 p.m. at The Studebaker Theater in the Fine Arts Building. If this review gets posted (without typos) and you are reading this before then, change whatever plans you may have and go see this marvelous production. Let’s hope it will be presented soon and often by other companies. It is a worthy addition to the American Opera repertoire.

Go to www.chicagooperatheater.org or call (312)704-8414.

One could only picture what would have happened should four of the greatest rock and roll pioneers ever step foot in the same studio at the same time. And just imagine if the above referenced were Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash. Well, one winter afternoon in December of 1956, that’s exactly what occurred when these four music trendsetters met unexpectedly at Sun Records in Memphis, Tennessee. Though no one outside of Jerry Lee Lewis himself (only living participant) really knows all the details of what happened during that meeting, most are quite certain a jam session like no other took place, later earning the four the nickname “The Million Dollar Quartet”.

Currently playing at Theater at the Center in Munster, Indiana, ‘Million Dollar Quartet’ brilliantly takes its audience into Memphis’ Sun Records studio where it combines theatre with a truly entertaining rock and roll show. Filled with jaw-dropping singing and instrumental feats, ‘Million Dollar Quartet’ beautifully conveys the excitement of mid-1950’s rock music while at the same time providing audience members with a good feel for the time period itself. It is no wonder this show is already a timeless classic.

Finely directed by Daryl Brooks, ‘Million Dollar Quartet’ does not require elaborate set changes, taking place entirely in a recording studio (Sun) converted from an auto parts store. The show makes its mark as one of the hottest shows on stage thanks to its amazing musical performances, well-defined characters and a storyline that perfectly delivers the enthralling supposition of “What could have been?” The story also points to the importance of Sun Records and their impact on the music world, mainly owner Sam Phillips (superbly played by Sean Fortunato) and his ability to recognize and shape the talent of each recording artist, by having them reach inside themselves. The man was simply a musical genius. But Sun Studios is a small, two-man operation and it is inevitable that each of these great artists will one day outgrow Mr. Phillips distribution and marketing ability and look to hop on larger, well-established labels.

What contributes greatly in making ‘Million Dollar Quartet’ so special is the incredible cast they managed to assemble. Not only does Theater at the Center’s cast deliver the personality traits and behaviors of each, from Jerry Lee Lewis’ dancing eyebrows to Elvis’ sneers and unique body language from the waist down, but it is each actor’s ability to convincingly sing and play as their character that takes this show to a much higher altitude.

At times, Michael Kurowski literally makes the audience forget they are not watching the real Jerry Lee Lewis thanks to his maniacal style of piano playing intertwined with the showmanship that helped the rockin’ pianist become famous. Zachary Stevenson’s sizzling guitar licks and strong vocals makes a highly believable Carl Perkins (you might remember Stevenson from his outstanding performance as Buddy Holly in American Blues Theatre’s ‘The Buddy Holly Story’), while Thomas Malouf nails Johnny Cash with spot on singing and his ability to capture his live qualities. Zach Sorrow, who first stuns the crowd with his accurate rendition of “That’s All Right” and then later seals the deal with a classic performance of “Hound Dog,” plays Elvis Presley. Together they are a force. The cast is rounded out by studio session players Fluke (Nick Anderson) on drums and Jay Perkins (Michael Sinclair) on bass who present a show worth watching in their own right. Aeriel Williams stuns as Elvis’ girlfriend Dyanne who joins in the all-star jam session with a couple songs of her own including an inspired version of “Fever” that really shakes the house.

‘Million Dollar Quartet’ starts off with a bang with “Blue Suede Shoes” and then continues to highlight memorable songs from each performer including “Folsom Prison Blues,” “Who Do You Love,” “Great Balls of Fire,” “Peace in the Valley” and many more. A good mix of concert and theatre, this is a show that is heartfelt, entertaining and sure to leave a lasting impression - not to mention have many searching through their record collection when they get home. This is a show that captures its audience within the first minute, embodies rock n’ roll fun throughout and ends on a high note with its dynamic ending as a show featuring Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis should.

‘Million Dollar Quartet’ is currently playing at Theater at the Center through March 31st. For more information visit www.TheaterAtTheCenter.com.

The skies full of snow,
The weekend seemed dire.
Oh, where would we go?
To Lincolnshire!

On the Marriott stage
To see Seussical,
Straight from the page
To a musical!

All your favorites are there,
Horton and a Who or two,
Gertrude and Mayzie,
We even go to Kalamazoo!

Oh, the thinks you can think
When you think about Seuss.
And the sings you can sing
When you let writers loose.

The play follows Horton
You know him, you must —
The kindly old elephant
With a speck of dust.

With Evan Martin as Horton
And Pat McDermott, moreover,
As the Who on the speck
And the speck on a clover.

But soon there is trouble:
A sour kangaroo
Played by Nicole Kyoung-Mi Lambert
Mocks Horton and his Who!

For the speck is a planet
Filled up with these Whos
Who’ve befriended our Horton
Who soon has the blues.

But Gertrude McFuzz
All bouncy and blonde
Played by Kelly Felthous
Of Horton is fond.

But Gertrude’s not all
No, no, no! No way, Jose!
She’s not the only
Star of this play.

There are Bird Girls galore
By gosh and by golly
Played by Michelle Lauto,
Mallory Madke, and Samantha Pauly

And the Wickersham monkeys
Onstage jump and sing,
Played by Alejandro Fonseca
Brandon Springman, and Ron King.

Horton hatches an egg,
Jojo yearns to be heard,
There’s even red fish and blue fish
Amongst all the birds.

Oh, I almost forgot —
Have you any guesses?
The Seussian favorite
Played by Jon Butler-Duplessis.

A feline who’s tall,
Nearly tall as his hat,
Hosted all the hilarity —
The Cat in the Hat!

On the faces of children
When the play was all done
Were smiles and giggles
Both sure signs of fun.

This musical’s a hit
But it won’t last too long —
Until March 31st
You can hear Seuss’ songs.

So if you’ve got wee ones
Who love Dr. Seuss,
Don’t miss this play,
You’ve got no excuse!

Through March 31st at Marriott Theatre - www.MarriottTheatre.com

Before he was Twilight Zone’s scriptwriter and frontman, Rod Serling broke through with the 1956 teleplay of Requiem for a Heavyweight, a powerful noire telling of a boxer on his way down. This work was originally broadcast live in black and white, and starred Jack Palance, Keenan Wynn, and Kim Hunter. In those days it was performed just once, and in this case the lone recording is of moderate quality. 

Putting such a teleplay onto the stage is transformative for the work. The audience is not limited to the camera’s viewpoint, but it tests the writing and of course, the performances. We can report that Artistic Theater’s production is absolutely first rate – first and foremost because it is very well cast, with a staggeringly good performance by Mark Pracht as Harlan “Mountain” McClintock. Pracht seems born for this role, as he is both a mountain of a man, and carefully expresses Serling's portrait of a Tennessee country boy who has taken way too many punches.

This is also a tragedy, in the Greek sense – Mountain had risen to become a contender for world heavyweight champion, but began to decline before he could get there. Like any tragic hero, he is thwarted by an antagonist: his manager, Maish Resnick (Patrick Thornton), who has skimmed profit from Mountain during his rise. Now as Mountain loses more than he wins, Maish plays a deceitful game – which creates the turning point in the play’s resolution.

Thornton is full throttle in this role, playing convincingly enough that you will come to loathe him. But even more forceful and compelling is the performance of Todd Wojcik as Army, as Mountain’s trainer and constant wingman. Wojcik’s performance is freighted with emotion and empathy, and will touch your heart.

There are a several other colorful characters in this cast, hustlers on the make that Serling drew from his own experience as a boxer. And we have a chorus of lower-level boxers and trainers, and thugs. These characters enact stylized boxer training interludes that are very powerful. And though each has a small part, it makes for a stunning effect overall. The set is a simple canvas platform – the ring – and the audience is seated around it, in a very intimate space.

There are just two female figures in Requiem, and both seem bound to be stereotypes of a 1950s male psyche: Golda (Laura Coleman), a “dame with a bad reputation” and Maish’s main squeeze. “What are you doing vertical; is there a recession on?” Maish asks her, in a reference it’s hard to imagine got through the censors.

The other female role is more substantial – Grace Carney (Annie Hogan), an employment agent who falls for Mountain as she tries to help him transition from boxing to something new. Hogan’s performance mines the role for all the meaning it can bear, and she is a strong heroine against the dastardly Maish. Her character in Requiem for a Heavyweight foreshadows another woman who supported Rocky years later.

The teleplay was influential enough to warrant a British TV version starring Sean Connery with a cameo by Michael Caine, and was turned into a 1962 film featuring Anthony Quinn in the lead. As a genre, teleplays are memories, but perhaps they foretold Netflix and Amazon movie productions. Teleplays have been tremendously influential – think of 12 Angry Men, Marty, The Days of Wine & Roses – all originated as live television productions.

Requiem for a Heavyweight is a great show, and a theatrical event. Running through March 31, there are just 50 seats per performance, so it is highly recommended you plan to attend at The Artistic Home on Grand Avenue in Chicago. 

Guiseppe Verdi’s beloved, romantic heartbreaker, La Traviata was beautifully sung Saturday evening at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. The second offering this season by the great Italian composer, it is the last opera from the famed blockbuster trio of Verdi’s middle period which include Rigoletto, Il Trovatore. Unfortunately, it did not live up to the standard of Il Trovatore presented earlier this season.

The production, which debuted here in the 2013/14 Season is (with the exception of Act Two, Scene 1) just plain ugly. Why such a dismal production would be re-mounted is a mystery. If management wonders why ticket sales are down, maybe they should take a look at their stage sets. Designed by Riccardo Hernandez, the heroine of the opera, Violetta Valery, lives in a giant concrete cylinder with no windows, stark lighting, and nary a picture nor sconce on the wall. Is this to suggest the bleakness of her inner life? If so, the design team completely misses the point. Verdi’s music represents Violetta’s inner bleakness superbly, stringently contrasting it with the artificial opulence of her material world. A bleak set completely avoids that tragic juxtaposition. We understand that budgets are tight, but certainly an international opera house of the stature of the Lyric can afford more than a few pieces of stage furniture. The huge stark edifice and ghostly shadows that worked so well in the darker Il Trovatore a few months ago, seemed totally incongruous in Violetta Valery’s Paris, the City of Light.

Violetta, and the real life woman the character is based on, Marie Duplessis, would have lived in a lavish apartment with every fashionable and expensive furnishing and accessory. The high end courtesans of the 19th century were the era’s style setters, envied and emulated, even while the morality of their profession was held in scorn by ‘Polite Society’. As our society has changed over the last 175 years, there is no exact parallel today to the divas of the demi-monde, but the program notes that suggest Princess Diana are partly right. Where she went, what she wore and who she was with utterly captivated the attention of the public. But imagine, if you can, a combination of the elegant Princess with the looser lifestyle of a Kardashian, perhaps, and you might get a little closer to the famous and fascinating women that reigned in the demi-monde, the “half-world”, of the Courtesans of the past.

“La traviata”, meaning the one who has strayed, does find redemption – not unlike Cheryl Strayed, of the book and movie, Wild, although it is love and not wilderness that brings about the moral transfiguration. In the libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the play from the novel “La Dame aux Camélias” by Alexander Dumas the Younger (son of the famous author of “The Three Musketeers”), we meet the Courtesan at the height of her fame, but near the end of her short life; at 23 she is already quite ill with consumption.

The curtain rises during the soft ethereal prelude to reveal a lacy scrim behind which we see Violetta attended by her maid Amina, preparing for the party which opens the action. It was refreshing to be spared the once meaningful but now over-done prelude as the epilogue with the entire action of the opera as a flashback. This should have provided an opportunity for us to see the frail and exhausted Violetta put on her party face, rally her strength and take the room as the dazzling courtesan plying the talents that led to her meteoric rise to the top of her profession. Unfortunately, this insightful moment did not play out as intended. It felt more like a peeping-tom watching somebody’s maiden aunt getting ready to go to church.

Albina Shagimuratova returned to the Lyric this year as the title character, following recent appearances here as Elvira in “I Puritani” by Bellini last year and Lucia in “Lucia di Lammermoor” by Donizetti the year before. Ms. Shagimuratova was in fine voice, and sang the challenging role magnificently from start to finish, deftly handling the brilliant coloratura, spinning out delicate, silken “fil de voce” or threads of voice, and with clarity and fullness sufficient for the passages requiring a bigger, more dramatic sound. Yet she could not even pretend to have the grace, vivacity, charisma, or sexual magnetism that Violetta must display. In the first scene her acting was the sort of acting that gives opera singers a bad name, plodding around aimlessly, looking matronly, with a few phony gestures here and there. Somehow, during the expansive “Sempre Libera”, in a moment when she must soar as she discards the notion of true love for her life of freedom, luxury and pleasure, Ms. Shagimuratova was, from where we were seated, hidden behind a table bearing a conical mound of fruit. In Act Two however, with its inherent expression of true, romantic, and intimate love, she seemed more comfortable and able to access the emotions of the character; her desperate, passionate singing carried the meaning far more effectively, especially in the crucial duet with the father of her new, true love, Alfredo. Moments of genuine poignancy returned in the intimate final act as she sadly faces death alone, only to be elated by the return of her loved ones arriving just in time to watch her die. If Ms. Shagimuratova is not willing to embrace playing a whore, perhaps she should limit her repertoire to “good girl” roles.

Giorgio Berrugi, in his first performance here, made a fine Alfredo. He brought a clear lyric, tenor voice and Italianate singing to the roll with youthful ardor. His infatuation with Violetta, anger at her perceived betrayal, remorse for his behavior, love and understanding as they were reunited were all believable, despite any semblance of a spark of sexual energy from the soprano.

“Best in Show” turned out to be Željko Luĉić as Giorgio Germont, Alfredo’s father, who arrives to the Act Two “love nest” in the country that Violetta and Alfredo are sharing. He is sternly determined to break up the affair that is causing scandal back home in Provence, and threatening the chances of a good marriage for Alfredo’s “pure-as-an-angel” sister. The outstanding Verdi baritone, familiar to audiences here and at all major opera houses throughout the world, was exceptional. He used his riveting presence not in an intimidating way, but as a strong and loving head of the family doing what he believes to be best for all. But Papa Germont is not unyielding, he recognizes something special about Violetta, and presses his case with compassion and respect, with both vocal tenderness and power. When Alfredo discovers he has been abandoned, his father tries, unsuccessfully, to console him by invoking memories of home and family in the beautiful aria “Di Provenza, il mar, il suol” - “The sun and sea of Provence”, sung superbly by Mr. Luĉić. This is what makes opera singing so difficult and so amazing when it all comes together; the singer requires an extraordinary instrument, excellent technique, abundant acting talent, well-honed stage craft, and the inexplicable ability to use all these things together to communicate on a deep level. Good singers have most of these things. The great singers, like Mr. Luĉić, have it all. The ovation received by Ms. Shagimuratova revealed that the audience is willing to accept two or three out of five, but Mr. Luĉić’s performance was, by far, the most satisfying.

The stage direction by Arin Arbus seemed amateurish for one with such fine credentials from the spoken theater. It was yet another example of how stage directors from the spoken theater do not possess the knowledge or training to be adequate opera directors. The chorus scenes were a disorganized melee, the least problematic of which was the masquerade at the party in Act Two, Scene 2, hosted by Violetta’s friend Flora. Dealing with an opera chorus requires a skilled opera director who understands the music, singing, and who is experienced coordinating large crowds in small spaces, and within the constraints of an exactly limited amount of time as dictated by the music; there is rarely anything quite like it in the spoken theater. Even in intimate scenes Ms. Arbus demonstrated little understanding of basic opera stage craft, allowing singers to upstage or block one another in ways which did not permit them to “cheat” out to be heard in a large hall such as the Ardis Krainik Theater. Ms. Arbus showed talent with one or two nice touches, but overall, the principals could have staged it as well themselves from their previous experience. The prelude to Act Three was staged behind the scrim as well, but what is the point of changing the sheets as Violetta lies dying in her sick-bed? Again, anything which that bit of business could have conveyed is far more thoroughly expressed in Verdi’s music. This seems to be the hallmark of theater directors in the opera house: Stage business for the sake of stage business. We’ve seen worse, but when will this trend end? At least Ms. Arbus didn’t mess with the good supertitles by Francis Rizzo.

The always excellent Lyric Opera Orchestra played beautifully, conducted with skill and extraordinary sensitivity to the singers by Michael Christie in his Lyric debut. Many conductors take tempi that fit their preconceived notion of how a piece should “go”, expecting singers to adjust to those tempi. Mr. Christie is a singer’s conductor who actually listens to his singers, adjusting his tempi to best suit the unique idiosyncrasies of a particular voice, allowing their best qualities to blossom. He is an encouraging addition to the Lyric Opera’s roster.

The comprimario roles were all ably performed, mostly by members of the Ryan Opera Center and by Zoie Reams, a former member of the Houston Grand Opera Studio. Ms. Reams is attractive and has a yummy mezzo voice. She made the most of her two scenes as Violetta’s friend, Flora. We hope to see and hear more of her in future seasons. As Amina, the formidable Lauren Decker brought a touching authenticity to the role of the maid – not as easy as one might think. And what a voice! Ms. Decker should enjoy a respectable career.

Mario Rojas was amiable as Alfredo’s buddy Gastone, with a promising voice. Ricardo Josè Rivera looked young, in spite of grayed hair, but pulled off the arrogant demeanor of Violetta’s older patron, Baron Duphol. His good baritone voice displayed appropriate weight too, in spite of his youth, as did bass-baritone David Weigel as Doctor Grenvil. The Marquis was nicely sung by Christopher Kenny. Eric Ferring, Vince Wallace and Matthew Carroll also acquitted themselves well in their respective parts as Guiseppe, the Messenger and the Servant.

In the Act One party scene in Violetta’s house, the lighting, designed by Marcus Doshi, was as grey as Chicago in February. Um… do we need to point out that a lot of us go to the opera in the winter to escape the dark and the drear? Unless called for dramatically, why subject us to more of the same? The ambience was somewhat relieved by cool golden tones for the country house in Act Two Scene 1, and Flora’s party in Scene 2 was colorful with Chinese lanterns and deep, deep red tones relieved by spot lights on the singers in the concerted finale. Sadly, Act Three returned to the dark and drear, but since Violetta was now on her deathbed and presumably the creditors had taken away her belongings, it made some sense, but there was no contrast to the luxuriousness that should have been there before.

Giant puppets and cross-dressing dancers appeared in the Act Two, Scene 2 party scene at Flora’s, designed by Cait O’Connor and choreographed by Austin McCormick. Fortunately, the rather creepy and garish milieu didn’t detract from the key kick-in-the-gut moment when Alfredo’s fury at being dumped gets the better of him as he ruthlessly insults and humiliates Violetta in front of everyone.

This moving love story, the theatrical genius of Verdi, the beautiful score expertly played and the consistently first-rate singing throughout make this production worth seeing, in spite of its flaws. There are nine more performances through March 22. Verdi’s music will inspire you. If you have never seen “La Traviata”, go. If you have seen it, go again. Log onto www.lyricopera.org for tickets or call 312 827-5600.