Items filtered by date: November 2007

Not often drawn to live orchestral music, Undertale LIVE was an exception. Fifth House Ensemble and AWR Music produced the world premier of this remarkable presentation January 11 at the ornate 700-seat Studebaker Theater. Similar to a movie shown with live orchestra accompanying, Undertale LIVE is a 90-minute performance by the 12-piece ensemble played below a screen on which a playthrough of the game was shown. The performance was flawless.

Released in 2015, Undertale looks for all the world like a primitive,16-bit generic fantasy video game, styled in the design of games released in the 1980s. But that look and the apparent simplicity are deceiving, and its intoxicating emotional depths have won it millions of fans.

Undertale, the game was developed by Toby Fox, who is also a self-taught musician. Its score, which was inspired by classic role-playing games, has won a number of awards, and critics say it is key to the game’s success.

For Undertale LIVE, Fox and Fifth House Ensemble artistic director Dan Visconti elaborated on the original game’s largely digital and technically constrained soundtrack. Adapted for a 12 piece orchestra for this performance, it featured new arrangements with percussion and electronics by music director Eric Roth with Chris Opperman. Featuring piano, bassoon, base, cello, violin, viola, flute, bassoon, drums, french horn, piccolo, and clarinet, along with the more primitive digital sounds of the game, the music stylistically combines thematic moments of caring with a quirky sense of humor. The musicians, wearing the game's signature Red Heart and whose backs were to the screen, played with a fervor that suggested they, too, were lovers of Undertale.

Exploring a secret world of monsters and adventure, Undertale the game is unique among role playing games, since it gives players the option to spare monsters - who have names like Metaton and Asriel - rather than just "kill everything." This gentler affect encourages players to empathize with those most unlike themselves. The game’s story and outcome are based entirely on the player’s choices.

In faithfulness to the game, the Undertale LIVE concert version gives the audience the opportunity to choose as well. Using their cellphones, the audience texts in a vote at eight or more points on whether to “Fight” or offer “Mercy.” A chipper “thanks for voting, human” is returned each time to your phone.

The group experience is one thing that makes Undertale LIVE so winning (though it is most engaging for its gamer fans ). As the various non-player characters from the game appear on the screen, the audience cheered in welcome. But it is the music that works for someone naïve to the game world.

"For me, part of the charm of classic ‘video game music,’ with its simple-sounding instruments and strong melodies, is that it leaves a space for the listener's imagination,” says Fox. “The simplicity becomes a blank canvas from which people can draw out more complicated or colorful arrangements.” Fox say he wanted a "more eclectic combination of instruments than a typical concert, so I believe it will be a really memorable experience in all respects.” Following last weekends two performances, a touring production of the concert is in the works by Fifth House Ensemble. https://undertalelive.com/

In the action in the game and in Undertale LIVE onstage, the player kills monsters to gain EXP and LV in order to progress. As we delve deeper into Undertale's plot we begin to realize that it's an analysis of what gamers take to be basic truths in games, and what anyone might recognize as a basic truth in life. Both become more challenging if we attempt them with the conventional game mindset of “kill or be killed.” (as is expressed by the NPC "Flowey" in the first few minutes of the game). Undertale becomes more rewarding for players who approach it in a more cooperative way.

While the nuance of the Undertale game plot is harder to pick up if you haven't been steeped in the culture of video games, the core message is something anyone can appreciate: regardless of how they may look, the “other” isn't inherently bad, even though our preconceptions may tell us so. If we take the time to try and understand them, they may surprise us and become some of our favorite people. In a fantasy world full of monsters, it is a human message that is perceivable by all. 

On stage in Undertale LIVE, fans get to share their personal experience of the game with newcomers in the wider world. through an interactive show, high quality production, and a beautifully orchestrated score. Underale LIVE is a fantastic show for gamers, for people interested in musical innovation, and for anyone who enjoys an enriching live performance. Learn more at https://undertalelive.com/

With their usual care and commitment, Black Button Eyes Productions is introducing ‘Whisper House’, a musical ghost story about loss, love and not giving up, to Chicago. The premise is promising. A young boy loses his Airman father in the Pacific during WWII, a loss that his mother cannot handle. He is sent to live with his aunt Lily in a lighthouse in Maine that she tends with the assistance of a Japanese immigrant who somehow got stranded there on his way to find his future. There’s a law-and-order sheriff who may have feelings for Lily. Or not. And there are the tunefully malignant and omnipresent ghosts, who frequently opine that everyone would be better off dead. The pedigree of the musical is impressive, with music and lyrics by Duncan Sheik of Spring Awakening fame and book and additional lyrics by Kyle Jarrow (‘Spongebob Squarepants Musical’). Unfortunately, the plot is predictable, the music bland, and the ghostly sirens quickly grow tiresome—why they want everyone to be miserable or dead is not entirely clear. It is thanks to director Ed Rutherford’s well-paced and elegant staging, and the sincerity of the talented cast, that ‘Whisper House’ is an engaging and ultimately moving love story. Though the resolution, when it comes, is wholly anticipated (except for those Ghosts, whose denouement surprises even them, as the lyrics acknowledge), it is surprisingly affecting. ‘Whisper House’ as a musical is a mess—it feels incomplete and prosaic, like the suspended ambitions of its characters—but the strong Black Button Eyes ensemble reveals the heart that no doubt drew them to this imperfect rumination on the need for love and the ways that humans push it away.

Most of the problems with ‘Whisper House’ stem from the musical’s transparently thin plot and mostly forgettable (with the occasional catchy hook) score. The trite lyrics channel pop psychology via Edward Gorey. The narrative conveniently brings together characters who are bound to mistrust one another: Christopher is sent to the last place on Earth he wants to be to live with an aunt he never met after the death of his father in a firefight with Japanese pilots. A Japanese caretaker helps Lily with household chores she cannot easily do (because of her limp), as well as offering companionship. Also looking in periodically is Charles, a flag-waving law enforcement officer. Christopher is immediately distrustful of Yasuhiro and the rabidly nationalistic Charles is just looking for a reason to get rid of him. Lily is haunted both literally and figuratively by the memory of a yacht that sank 20 years earlier, leading her to mistrust herself even when her instincts are sound. The stage is set for a claustrophobic clash of characters and cultures. And then, there are the ghosts of two stylish drowning victims. It’s hard to tell whether the creators wanted the ghosts to serve as metaphors for the living characters’ hurtful instincts or as actual characters. To the credit of director Ed Rutherford and his team of collaborators, he is able to keep a hold on the humanity of the characters and the genuine good will of the plot to deliver a slight, but entertainingly moving yarn. Rutherford could have done more to flesh out purpose and through-line for the ghostly narrators, and, despite a valiant effort by the design team, the smallish stage makes it difficult to portray multiple locations, including the ocean and an adjoining lighthouse, while also accommodating an onstage backing band. However, the care that was invested in the staging ultimately pays off. Set designer Nikolaj Sorensen focuses on the kitchen of the lighthouse and keeps the space open enough to convey the other locations, albeit with efficient but clunky scene changes (which the occasionally corporeal and accommodating ghosts incorporate into Derek Van Barham’s 1920’s-inspired choreography). With the addition of the color-saturated lighting design of Liz Cooper, nifty period props by Adrian Hadlock, and creaky-spooky sound effects by Robert Hornbostel, the design team effectively creates the gloomy, desolate backdrop the story requires. Costume designer Rachel M. Sypniewski further adds to the effect, with simple, drab costumes for the humans who have no one to dress for (except for the Sheriff, whose uniform is his mask) and stylish Jazz Age formal wear for the ghosts, though, in keeping with their tragic fate, they dress in funereal white and black. Much credit also goes to musical director/conductor/musician Micky York and the other members of the six-piece ensemble, who create a spectrum of musical backdrops for the narrative and generally maintain the right balance with the vocals—not easy in a space of this size and configuration.

At the outset, we are introduced to the characters that in the ghosts believe would be better off dead. The guilt-ridden Christopher wants to care for his mother as he promised but is instead sent to stay with his father’s estranged sister. Leo Spiegel impressively captures Christopher’s grief, outrage and sense of powerlessness, though he does seem to take the omnipresence of ghosts in the lighthouse too much in stride (if ghosts told me I should be afraid, I would take their advice). Kate Nawrocki is the show’s anchor as Christopher’s aunt, who requests that he avoid addressing her as Ma’am or Aunt, insisting on Miss Lily. Pragmatic to the point of being cold, Nawrocki’s Lily nevertheless allows a sly sense of humor and genuine compassion to temper her bone-dry delivery. The growing connection between Spiegel’s needy and impudent Christopher and Nawrocki’s equally needy and uncompromising Lily is a high point in the show. Also living on the lighthouse property is Yasuhiro, who has forged a quiet but strong camaraderie with Lily. It is clear from the start that Lily and Yasuhiro share a bond, but misgivings about their different backgrounds, coupled with ghostly interference and the implementation of Executive Order 9066, keep them from acknowledging this. Karmann Bajuyo fortunately sidesteps the potential for melodrama in his character, offering a quietly self-deprecating and warmly humorous portrayal that provides a softer counterpoint to the flinty Lily. As Charles, the local sheriff who fully embraces the jingoistic and xenophobic patriotism that characterized some of America’s home front response to WWII, T.J. Anderson is cast against type. Lacking the hulking physical presence that one would expect of this stereotypical bully, Anderson tries to create a more complex character than the writing can support, coming across as a nice guy hiding behind toxic attitudes and braggadocio. This attempt at depth throws too much light on the two-dimensional writing and makes one wish for a more conventional bad guy. Anderson’s Charles also is no match for either Lily or Yasuhiro, which means he must rely solely on his badge and gun to intimidate (which violence designer Brendan Hutt wisely acknowledges when Charles’ racism inevitably—and unnecessarily—leads to violence). Mikaela Sullivan and Kevin Webb, as the waterlogged victims of 20-year-old shipwreck, play their roles with macabre relish. They have the voices and musical acumen to move easily through the various pop genres of the score, and beguilingly address both audience and the living characters they torment. Despite thoroughly enjoyable performances, one is still left wondering exactly what these two ghosts need or want (the reason given for their presence does not adequately explain their behavior): revenge? connection? company? all of the above? With these questions left unanswered, it can be occasionally frustrating to watch the spirits alternately charm, comfort, frighten, and belittle the living, often magnifying their most self-destructive musings.

This ghost story would be better off without its ghosts (despite charming and tuneful portrayals by Mikaela Sullivan and Kevin Webb), who mostly meddle in the living characters’ lives by amplifying their fears, misjudgments and self-doubts. They don’t need ghosts to do that for them. And, as much of the musical portion of the musical belongs to the ghostly interlopers, the predictable but ultimately moving story of a family thrown together by blood and circumstance is nearly drowned out by synth-pop hauntings. The balance is so off that it seems touch and go whether the excellent ensemble—with Kate Nawrocki, Karmann Bayuyo and Leo Spiegel as reluctant allies who need to learn trust at its heart—can land the emotional cargo. They do, and there is no denying that this is a good time for a reminder that compassion, and love can heal both a wounded heart and a wounded world. ‘Whisper House’ is decidedly not great theater, but as a musical curiosity it is mostly innocuous and entertaining, and Ed Rutherford’s cast ensures surely propels the plot to a satisfying and emotional conclusion, though a true resolution does not materialize. 

‘Whisper House’ runs through February 15 at the Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport Avenue, Chicago. Tickets are available at athenaeumtheatre.org, by calling (773)935-6875 or in person at the Athenaeum Theatre Box Office.

*Now extended through February 16th due to popular demand

“Lenny Bruce was the defender of all people. Notorious from his belief that people give words power. It’s not the words itself, but the intention,” says playwright and performer Ronnie Marmo in the show’s playbill - A Note from the Playwright titled “Why Lenny Bruce? Why Now?”

‘I’m not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce’ should be one of the hottest shows in Chicago this Fall. Coming hot off a sold-out Los Angeles run, the story of one of the most controversial, yet influential comedians, Lenny Bruce, comes to the Royal George Cabaret Theatre. Directed by legendary actor Joe Mantegna and produced by Lenny Bruce’s daughter, Kitty Bruce, we get a production that is hard-hitting, hilarious and flat out ballsy.

Ronnie Marmo as Lenny Bruce is a powerful force to be reckoned with and his deliciously vivid script couldn’t be performed any better. I’d be hard-pressed to say which is more impressive, Marmo’s dark, daring and funny script or his acting prowess as the controversial 1960’s comic. Let’s just say the two fit perfectly together to give audience members a thrill ride that doesn’t let you go.

‘I’m not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce’ puts Bruce onstage in a stand-up atmosphere where he delivers intimate stories that shaped his life and beliefs – some tragic, some humorous and some heartwarming. He was close to his mother, revered his life love Honey and loved his daughter to no end. He was often arrested for his words. He fought drug addiction – and lost. Marmo as Bruce also becomes the vessel for the fearless and outspoken comedian who tells it like he sees it, often using obscenities and rants about the same topics that are touchy in today’s world – fifty years later – such as racism, government aid, religion, the criminal justice system, gender inequality, etc., etc., but probably most of all censorship. An unwavering advocate for the First Amendment, Bruce vehemently preaches the dangers of losing the right to free speech, often musing the crowd with stories of arrests and harassment by authorities for simply saying words not everyone wanted to hear.

“I disapprove of what you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it.” Evelyn Beatrice Hall (a.k.a. S. G. Tallentyre) wrote in 1906’s The Friends of Voltaire. This quote epitomized Bruce’s beliefs.

Since Bruce, many comedians have followed in his footsteps, often citing him as their greatest influence, such as Richard Pryor, George Carlin and more recently Sarah Silverman and Bill Maher, the latter very outspoken about the censorship put in place by tech communication giants Twitter and YouTube. It is without doubt, Lenny Bruce would cringe at what has been happening over the past few years where some comedians are not allowed to perform on certain college campuses or where “disagreeing” is often quickly labeled a hate incitement and therefore censored no matter your political stance, religious views or assessments on life. Silence opinions - delete instead of discuss.

The perception of recent fragility wafting in the air where people get overly offended at very little or seemingly nothing these days (words over intention) has been a huge talking point for comedians like Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock and David Chapelle (to name a very small few) to the point some might wonder if someone like Bruce could have survived today’s social climate. But, as a betting man, I’m sure Lenny Bruce would still be knocking down walls and fighting to his last breath to exercise the right of free speech.

Ronnie Marmo’s play has come at just the right time at its relevancy in today’s world couldn’t be timelier. Marmo makes his point on the importance of free speech to perfection in this powerful production while also delivering an engaging, inside look at someone who changed the landscape for comedy as we knew it.

Comedy great Richard Lewis says of Marmo’s performance, “Lenny’s life pours out of him,” while Kitty Bruce goes a step further by calling it, “The best portrayal of my father I have ever seen. Brilliant.”

Compelling, inspiring and thought-provoking, ‘I’m not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce’ is highly recommended.

‘I’m not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce’ is being performed at the Royal George Cabaret Theatre through December 1st. For more information visit LennyBruceOnStage.com.

*Extended through February 16th 2020

Dance Nation is the story of a school dance team of thirteen-year-olds. The concept may seem to have dubious appeal, but Dance Nation quickly sinks its teeth into our attention with its opening scene.

Director and choreographer Lee Sunday Evans has put the students in sailor suits, and they rigidly perform a very well-rehearsed but uninspired tap dance number, moving just awkwardly enough through its limited steps and gestures to reveal that they are adolescents.

With that admirable bit of stagecraft by director Evans, the script by Clare Barron comes to life, firmly establishing the players (the actors range in age from their 20s to 60-something) as a believable band of pre-pubescent girls, with one like-aged boy, Luke. Kudos to these actors.

The play itself is strong, compelling enough to merit a Drama Desk Ensemble Award and an Obie Awards Special Citation this year. And it was a Pulitzer finalist. 

Anyone who has been involved with competitive middle school regional, state and national  competitions – soccer, Little League, debate team, what have you – will recognize the frenzied energy that students and faculty put toward winning. In the case of Dance Nation, the strangely imagined choreography and dance storylines are developed and directed by the dance team leader, Teacher Pat (Tim Hopper). 

The dynamic emotional lives of these students is the heart of the play. Audrey Francis is Vanessa; Caroline Neff is Zuzu; Karen Rodriguez plays Amina; Ariana Burkes is Sofia; Adithi Chandrashekar is Connie; Ellen Maddow is Maeve; and Shanesia Davis is Ashlee. Torrey Hansen is Luke. It’s a hoot to see these actors of all ages capture the physical style and the angst of these adolescents. And they do it so well!

Barron gives us, in Teacher Pat, something familiar: a bit of a tyrant, who is as at once capricious, manipulative and authoritarian. Teacher Pat is not imaginative perhaps, but he is filled with conviction and certainty in his beliefs.

Teacher Pat comes and goes on stage. Most of the time is focused on the student interactions. But when he is there, sometimes it's quite harmful, as when he tries to dissuade Zuzu from quitting the dance team telling her that she will ruin her chances of ever pursuing dance again.

We also see the appearance of some of the mothers of the students, who Barron captures perfectly in these fleeting scenes. Some mothers are amazingly nurturant, wise, supportive, while one in particular - Zuzu's mother - has an unhealthy and neurotic emotional enmeshment with her daughter. 

Teacher Pat drives the students forward for the upcoming national competition in Tampa, that they will win in dramatic stages through two smaller regional competitions before getting to the nationals. Aiming to get them fired up about the dance show he will soon reveal, Teacher Pat turns it on:

“Let’s give them something to tell them there is a revolution coming out of Liverpool Indiana!” he says. (Hopper delivers the line so perfectly, appending Indiana after just a beat.) The show that will spark this revolution is overwrought and cockamamie.  

The students struggle through insecurities, personal issues, and the competitive challenges - but are generally bonded as a mutually supportive group. Barron also affords those flashes in scenes in which we can see laid out before us the promise of a young person who is destined to achieve great things in life. 

Dance Nation runs through February 2, 2020 at Steppenwolf Theatre. Don't miss it!

Touring illusion show of five ‘Champions of Magic’ is playing at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance in Chicago, and it is a spectacle to behold. A well-rounded performance, it includes a duo act of British grand illusionists Richard Young and Sam Strange, British mentalist Alex McAleer, American close up magician Kayla Drescher, and Mexican-born escape artist Fernando Velasco. 

Opening the first act is Alex McAleer, who is as charming as he is capable of effortlessly guess your deepest secrets (or at least the name of your childhood friend). Mindreading is one of the most fascinating kinds of magic, as it doesn’t require any props and relies solely on manipulation techniques such as psychics and hypnotists use. I haven’t a clue how he does it, but still spend some time watching him very closely, which, of course, proves a waste of time, because McAleer is a very gifted mentalist and a remarkable showman. 

Kayla Drescher is a cheerful close-up magic performer, who has won multiple awards, including the Society of American Magician’s Presidential Citation and being voted “Magician of the Year”. Her cards act is very intimate, perhaps too intimate for such a large Theater. Though well executed, the cameraman’s presence just a few feet away (in order to project her act on the big screen for the audience to see) feels just a bit distracting. Drescher really shines when engaging the audience members, volunteering someone up on stage with an unassuming charm and then wowing the audience with her brand of [card] magic.

The most spectacular act belongs to Young and Strange. The comedic duo has gotten many tricks up their sleeves: some new, some old. Watching their performance took me back to my childhood, to when circus came to town and everyone went to see a famous illusionist. I was delighted to watch some of my old favorites, like, an assistant being cut in half and then put back together again. I mean, common, it’s a classic and should never go away! But Young and Strange dazzle with many of their original acts as well; they’re highly entertaining performers. 

‘Champions of Magic’ would not be complete without an impressive young escape artist Fernando Velasco’s act; at just 21 years old he is already the world’s youngest to perform magic’s most dangerous illusion, the Houdini Water Torture Cell. Though it’s slightly less spectacular due to the fact that the glass water chamber had become covered with fabric slightly too long, it’s nevertheless very well done. Velasco is a fearless performer, and undoubtedly has a bright future.

Overall, ‘Champions of Magic’ is a wonderful magic show featuring all of the stage magic’s various fields – recommended!

Through December 29th at Harris Theater for Music and Dance.

Epic tragedy shapes a society. For Chicagoans, there were the Great Fire of 1871 (300 dead, 100,000 homeless), and the 1915 SS Eastland sinking (844 died). Less remembered is the Iroquois Theater, which burned to the ground in 1903. The conflagration killed 602 people, and changed fire safety practices in theaters everywhere.
Just over a month after its grand opening run, on December 30, 1903, the Iroquois Theater was destroyed when an arc light ignited a muslin curtain. (That site is now the home of the Nederlander Theatre, the restored Oriental movie palace.)

The Ruffians theater troupe recounts this tale – seminal to Chicago’s theater communit -  in Burning Bluebeard, in a truly inspired production. The performance incorporates dance, music, mime, acrobatics, in a that evokes the atmospheric gymnastics of Cirque de Soleil, or perhaps even more the defunct Red Moon Theater for those who remember it). Let’s say from the start Burning Bluebeard is entrancing, mesmerizing, and something not to be missed.

The Ruffians have been serving up this unusual holiday fare since 2011, when it was originated with the support of the NeoFuturists Theater. This year Porchlight Music Theatre has placed the show on its stage at the Ruth Page Center (1016 N. Dearborn), supplying plenty of seating for the growing cult following Burning Bluebeard has garnered.

Burning Bluebeard retells the story of the fire from the point of view of cast and crew who survived it – all but one escaped - in a mash-up with scenes adapted from the original Mr. Bluebeard on stage at t he time. In so doing, playwright Jay Torrance (who also plays stage manager Robert Murray) and director Halena Kays provide us a sampling of antique theatrical techniques and practices from the period. Choreographic by Ariel Etana Triunfo is exquisite, and scenic design by Doug Kmiec is wonderful.

The show opens with body bags on the smoldering ruins of the stage, the actors emerging in tattered costumes, and launch into the story – reminding the audience they are playing the role of the original audience – more than a third of whom died. This provocative tease (though it goes on a little too long, giving us multiple false starts)
Running 100 minutes with no intermission, the characters are drawn from real people like stage manager Murray, and Chicago vaudeville comedian Eddie Foy (Ryan Walters), who was in the road show production, and earned acclaim in the disaster for helping keep the audience calm.

Most entertaining is Pamela Chermansky as the Fancy Clown, who plays through various vignettes and comic scenes, then periodically steps out of the clown character to comment as a “master thespian” on the production of Mr. Bluebeard.

“History knew better than the playwright, better than any of us, that it wasn’t any good,” she declaims haughtily. Ticket sales were slow, so the producers kept adding scenes, songs, and production embellishments, which also added fuel for the fire. Objecting to revisions in one of her scene, Fancy Clown ironically tells them to go ahead, “Unless you are bored with petty things, like artistry, and craft!” her a voice dripping with disdain.

At the other end of the spectrum is stage manager Robert Murray (Jay Torrance), who is all about the technical mechanics of the show, and knows this production is a dog. He also provides the specific details regarding locked safety doors, incomplete fire escapes, a burning fire curtain, and hemp-filled seating that magnified the effects of the tragedy.

A realistic touch from from the pantomime style of Mr. Bluebeard is the inclusion of The Fairie Queen, with Crosby Sandoval giving an absolutely arresting performance. In a worn white lace and organdy frock, the hairy chested, mustachioed Sandoval delivers engimatic utterances muffled through a tin can hanging on a string around his neck. (Notes in the progam let us know cross dressing, fairie queens, and purely silent scenic interludes were all part of the pantomime theatrical style.) 

Adding to the woe, the day of the Iroquois Theater tragedy was the show’s first sell out in the 1,650 see theater, with scores more packed in, the overflow filling standing room and even seating themselves in the stairway aisles of the upper balconies.

The mayor shuttered all the theaters in town while the fire was investigated. Afterward emerged building code changes like mandatory exit lights, improved fire proofing and readily accessible fire escapes – and other changes that are now the norm in all public spaces.

Burning Bluebeard runs through December 27 at the Ruth Page Center in Chicago, and is highly recommended.

While I’m familiar with Studs Terkel’s oral of history of workers, titled of course ‘Working’, I came into opening night of Theo Ubique’s production of Stephen Schwartz’s musical adaptation completely ignorant of its content, its music, any of it. I didn’t know Schwartz had originally written and staged it in the late 70s. I didn’t know it featured music by a 70s icon, James Taylor. And I didn’t know it had been refreshed in the past decade with tunes by a more modern musical icon, Lin Manuel Miranda. Sometimes it’s nice to come into a show blissfully ignorant; doing so gives you those rare moments of surprise that come in adulthood.

So, I was surprised by much of it. I was surprised by the musical numbers. And I was surprised by the unevenness of this Broadway giant’s work here. But I was not at all surprised by the enthusiasm and talent on display by the cast assembled at this great little treasure of a theater where Chicago and Evanston meet near the Howard station (its name proudly part of the tasteful set).

The musical numbers were a lot of fun — 70s Broadway stuff since, as I now know, this is 70s Broadway stuff. Musical director and keyboardist Jeremy Ramey (who killed it earlier this year in the same roles for Theo Ubique’s killer Hedwig) has maybe the best time of anyone in the house, channeling his love of music and love of this music through his fingers and his constant movement. His band, featuring Hedwig’s Perry Cowdery on guitar and Carlos Mendoza on drums, as well as Rafe Bradford on bass, are in lockstep the whole way, complementing both the cast and the score.

A couple members of said cast really show off their musical talent here, too. Stephen Blu Allen, who I’d yet to see perform, impressed with his overall talent. Maybe the youngest member of the cast, he moved like a veteran and sang like one, too, possessing a smooth voice that worked as well as a lead instrument as it did when hitting just the right harmonies when accompanying his castmates. The presence of Cynthia F. Carter, who’s quickly become one of my favorite local actors and singers (having seen her shine in the Black Ensemble Theater’s tributes to Mahalia Jackson and Chuck Berry), assured me upon seeing her name in the playbill that I was in good hands. And wouldn’t you know it — I was in the steady and experienced hands of both her stewardess and her streetwalker, and blown away by her cleaning woman’s closing number, “If I Could Have Been.”

And that number’s where I’ll list my gripe — only one gripe, really — a gripe not with the players, but with the piece itself. The show could’ve ended right there, with Carter’s number as the closer. But it kept going and kept preaching. When Schwartz lets the characters and their lives do the talking, ‘Working’ works. But when he tries to sum up what the workers have said, wrapping it up all tidy-like and preaching to the audience, it gets, well, a bit preachy. Any audience deserves the playwright’s respect, especially an audience there to see an adaptation of a book by Studs Terkel. They don’t — we don’t — need to be told what to think. We just need a work that’ll make us think, whatever that thinking might be and wherever that thinking might lead.

In ‘Working’’s first half, there’s more of that preaching going on. A schoolteacher played by Loretta Rezos preaches at us with all the stereotyped gripes about kids these days (especially those in neighborhoods where schoolteachers might be especially harried) — knives and drugs and Ritalin, but no respect and no grasp of the English language (except as a second language). Michael Kingston’s moneymaking and money-worshiping businessman is more of the same — a stereotype of money and business without anything new to say about it. But in the second half, both Rezos and Kingston get characters with more to do and thus more to say. Rezos’ restaurant worker gets perhaps my favorite number, turning the work of waiting tables into an art. And Kingston’s “Joe” brings the feels without the heavy-handed attempts to get them as his elderly titular character monologues about watching housefires and long-ago waltzes and old Sunday drunks with cash hidden in their socks.

I can’t forget the last two members of this talented cast, all of whom play multiple characters. Jared David Michael Grant is the show’s heart, as a long-haul trucker, as a laid-off worker, and especially as the fireman at one of those housefires Joe spends his retirement chasing. The firefighter’s soliloquy, not just about the work of first responders but about the world they respond to, was every bit as meaningful as it must’ve been when Terkel and Schwartz encountered it over forty years ago. And Kiersten Frumkin is sort of the cast’s utility worker — in a play about such folks — nimbly playing a millworker, a lot lizard, a housewife, and more. It’s her last worker, a woman proudly watching the child she’s raising grow, that’s her best, and features a beautiful duet with Allen’s nursing home worker.

So, while the play itself is far from perfect, it gets better after intermission. And while the play itself is far from perfect, its cast perfectly plays the many roles they’re asked to play. And, isn’t an imperfect what workers and their worlds are? As Allen’s southside community organizer says late in ‘Working’, “history is made up of a lot of little people,” and ‘Working’ gives all of those little people a voice and a stage to tell their messy, imperfect, and real stories of ‘Working’ and of life, now through January 26 at what’s become one of my favorite spots, Theo Ubique on Howard in Evanston.

Usually it’s the other way around that a show is developed by Lyric and sent on the road. Scenario Two Ltd. instead brings their critically acclaimed production of ‘Light in the Piazza’ from London to Chicago starring our own Renee Fleming. Those looking to warm their hearts without the glittery holiday schmaltz will enjoy this romantic alternative. 

Fleming would call Lyric her home-base, but what a rare treat it is to see the iconic diva perform in Chicago. ‘Light in the Piazza’ is a bit of a departure from the epic operas Fleming is ordinarily associated with. Composer and lyricist Adam Guettel’s adaptation of Elizabeth Spencer’s novella, is a light opera that’s closer to traditional musical theatre than opera.

 
‘Light in the Piazza’ premiered in 2004 and was eventually nominated for the Tony Award for Best Musical. It’s about a wealthy American mother and daughter spending an idyllic summer in Italy during the 50s. Upon arriving in Italy, Clara (Solea Pfeiffer) falls in love at first sight with Florentine Fabrizio (Rob Houchen). It’s unclear why Clara’s mother Margaret (Renee Fleming) is initially so opposed to the union. It’s revealed that Clara is developmentally challenged as a result of an equestrian accident. Her mother fears she is not capable of rational decision making. 

Guettel is the grandson of renown composer Richard Rogers who at one time had ambitions to adapt the novella in the 60s. Guettel’s score is beautiful, and Renee Fleming’s vocals are incredible, but there’s an emptiness to the lyrics that the heavy amount repetition can’t compensate for.

 
The source material is fairly short for a full two-act musical. The book by Craig Lucas delivers some emotional punches that rise above the flat lyrics. Solid performances by Solea Pfeiffer and Rob Houchen are where the strengths of this production lie. The final emotional conflict of the show is bittersweet and haunting. Miss Pfeiffer’s performance is a hidden weapon here. Such simple choices yield huge emotional response.

 
If ever given the chance to see Renee Fleming, obviously do. Seeing Fleming do a romantic musical is an experience few will have. That said, she is an opera singer and that’s a different kind of acting. It would be interesting to see how an actress with a more traditional musical theatre repertoire would approach this complex character. Fleming’s vocals are full of an unmatched passion for the craft, but the segments of spoken dialogue feel disconnected from the depth of the script.

 
Directed by Daniel Evans, this is a lush and grand production of a musical that is generally done on a smaller scale. The luxurious staging by Scenario Two make this tour comparable to the over-the-top sets Lyric audiences are used to. The plot of ‘Light in the Piazza’ has the makings for a tragedy but the unexpectedly romantic path it takes makes for an enchanting and easily digestible evening at the opera. 

Through December 29th at Lyric Opera Chicago. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600

Who doesn’t like Nat King Cole? A band pianist who achieved mega-stardom in the late 1940s and 1950s, Cole’s pitch-true tenor was inflected by a nasal reverb, and that slight rasp that individualized him, making his voice on recordings still fresh, and endlessly interesting.

Because of his immense talent, Cole was immensely popular, and even at the height of Jim Crow, he was the first African-American to have a solo Billboard hit – Mona Lisa in 1950; and to host his own television show, in 1956-1957.

If you don’t know Nat King Cole, that’s him singing Mel Torme’s “Christmas Song” [Chestnuts roasting on an open fire]. Even as the Christmas jukebox cranks up, Cole’s thoughtful, sophisticated interpretations of holiday songs remain a pleasure.

So I was extremely excited to see “An Unforgettable Nat King Cole Christmas,” starring Chicago actor Evan Tyrone Martin. I figured it might be like a television Christmas special. And the venue – in the sleekly appoint 80-seat Venus Cabaret – is a cozy recreation of a posh 1950s night club.

Martin enters the stage, lanky, grey tux with black piping, narrow black necktie, crowned with an Afro, I was not sure what I was gonna get - this didn;t look like Nat. But when he sings, and the band plays, the show becomes “Unforgettable,” to reference another of Cole’s hits – which are plentiful during the evening. (I bought two copies of the recording!)

Rather than a purely Christmas show, Martin sings a representative range of Nat King Cole’s favorites and hits (he recorded more than 100 songs). Martin is backed by a notable jazz quintet (Ryan Bennett on drums; Joshua Ramos on bass; Andy Pratt on guitar; Rajiv Halim on woodwinds; and Jo Ann Daugherty, music director, on piano), who bring us the flavor of the jazz style that Cole fed into mainstream popularity.

Recalling Cole’s story, Martin remains himself, recounting his personal story as well, and contrasting and comparing it with Cole’s – who was brought up in Chicago, the son of a preacher. In the patter between songs, Martin keeps it real; we get the back story on both men (though Martin is much too young to have heard Cole live). 

Nat King Cole died in 1965; he was just 45, from lung cancer. And while he had a television show, it went off the air for lack of a national sponsor, despite NBC’s support. In the story, Martin quotes Cole: “I guess Madison Avenue is just afraid of the dark,” Cole said. 

In singing, Martin interprets Cole, rather than imitating him – and with the band recreates the signature phrasing and color on a number of his hits, notably “Mona Lisa,” “Unforgettable,” “(You Can Get Your Kicks on) Route 66,” “Straighten Up and Fly Right” and “L-O-V-E.” In both the running banter and personal anecdotes, and the music, Martin keeps it authentic. I dearly loved his rendition of "On the Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady, which was so typical of Cole's interpretive magic.

The band in some respects is better able to capture the sound, because Martin’s voice is so rich, and richly trained, that there is just no restraining it when he holds a note too long, and in certain registers. But at points it is uncannily accurate, and we are immersed in Nat King Cole’s musical genius.
I came away touched by this tender attention to Nat King Cole, by the star of this show, Evan Tyrone Martin.

A production of Artists Lounge Live, you can see An Unforgettable Nat King Cole Christmas at Venus Cabaret Theater on Friday, Dec. 13, Saturday Dec. 14, and Sunday, Dec. 15; and then two last chances on Monday, Dec. 16 and Tuesday Dec. 17 at Writer’s Theatre in Glencoe.

Caitlin Jackson as Bette Midler recreating one wonderful cabaret night at the Continental Bathhouse in New York city is a heartfelt, moving and entertaining way to remember and celebrate Bette's humble and "hungry" beginnings as a performer with the legendary “Tommy” (Tommy Robb) her pianist.

 
I really can't say enough about how talented Caitlin Jackson is as a comedienne and vocalist to be able to carry off this show with such style. Jackson's own vocal stylings are superb and many of the songs were delivered so strongly and such emotional insight into Midler's early struggles as a sexually liberated woman searching for love through her loneliness brought me to tears.

I actually lived in the historic pre-war luxury building, The Ansonia, on 72nd and Broadway showcased in Woody Allen's film Manhattan, for 4 years right after graduating from college. The bathhouse was long gone when I lived there in 1983-1988, but sometimes when I was doing laundry in the cavernous basement of the Ansonia, I imagined I could still hear the sounds of Bette's exquisite voice and the excitement of her loving fans laughing and clapping for her bawdy, yet tender humor.

I think Caitlin Jackson has a marvelous, powerful voice and does Bette Midler's humor and patter (taken almost verbatim from one show) justice without doing a full on impersonation which allows the audience to feel they are seeing the young Bette for the first time. 

I had forgotten just how many of Midler's amazingly moving songs are about her extreme loneliness and heartbreak in love relationships - "Empty Bed Blues," “Long John Blues,” “Do You Wanna Dance?” and, of course, "I Shall Be Released" and "Waiting for my new Friends to Come," so I was really happy to discover that this Christmas Edition wisely pumps up the Joy factor with several fantastic renditions of toe tapping Christmas songs and the ever popular "Superstar," "Baby Please Come Home" and "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy".

Sydney Genco and Allison Petrillo are a delight as her backup singers and bring their bright sexy dame harmonies and dance moves that really help support Jackson - who otherwise carries every minute of this very demanding vocal and theatrical "one woman show". 'Bette: Xmas' is adapted by both Artistic Director David Cerda and Jackson, and Jackson also directs this production along with Marc LeWallen while music direction is handled by Tommy Robb.

I highly recommend seeing this unique and talent-filled Hell in a Handbag production, which has only been improved from its original Summer form by being lit up with Christmas lights and the Joy of Christmas.

‘Bette: Xmas at the Continental Baths’ is being performed at Mary’s Attic through December 31st.