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Jules Verne wrote one of the first science fiction novels in 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas, the story of three travelers who find themselves imprisoned on the Nautilus, a submarine captained by the megalomaniacal Captain Nemo. The novel was light on political detail, though Captain Nemo occasionally claimed to use his supremacy in the seas to right wrongs committed on land, especially those perpetrated by colonial powers. Nemo’s reasons were more fully articulated in Verne’s follow-up, The Mysterious Island, elements of which become the framing device for this Lookingglass Production, adapted by David Kersnar, who also directs, and Althos Low (aka Steve Pickering). Ensemble member Kersnar shows a deft hand and strong familiarity with the resources he can muster to bring the undersea world of the novels spectacularly to life, though the attempt to explain Nemo’s vengeful politics weighs the production down.

At its heart, 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas is an entertaining yarn, filled with hair-raising encounters with monsters, encounters made more terrifying by the fact that they take place in the unforgiving confines of the world’s oceans, with their more ordinary terrors. Kersnar and Low have done a remarkable job of bringing this world to the stage, staying true to Verne’s vision while making updates that make the story more accessible to contemporary audiences. One of these is changing the gender of the marine biologist who recounts Nemo’s travels and scientific discoveries. Pierre Aronnax and his aide-de-camp, Conseil, are recast as Morgan Aronnax and Brigette Conseil. This proves to be a strong choice in terms of storytelling, as it makes a little sense of Aronnax’s initial sympathy for Nemo, as both have felt the sting of being underestimated by those in power. The creators have assembled a team of artists and designers who are up to the task of bringing the tour of the seas to the stage. Todd Rosenthal’s set contains a toy-theater proscenium for the wide-angle shots of the ocean, from the sinking of ships to the horrors of the drowning sailors to the view from the windows of the Nautilus. The Nautilus itself is realized as an exterior platform that rises and tilts precipitously as the story demands, and hints at the confinement of the underwater craft that can be accessed only through a small hatch. Costume designer Sully Ratke combines story-telling and function, creating designs that capture the altered states of the characters as their journeys unwind, as well as their backgrounds and social stations. Props by Amanda Hermann avoid getting too steampunk, but capture the Victorian aesthetic of the novel, reminiscent of the original illustrations. However, it is the more ephemeral design elements that really transport the audience to the depths: sound designer Ric Sims and lighting designer Christine Binder immerse the audience in locations from New York City, the decks of various water crafts, to the depths of the seven seas. Floating in this aural and visual landscape are the puppets designed by Blair Thomas, Tom Lee, and Chris Wooten and athletic actors performing Sylvia Hernandez Di-Stasi’s brilliant aerial choreography, which allows the characters to float and dive beneath the waves. The puppets themselves are worth the price of admission: lifelike and magical at once, they float behind and off the stage to invite audience and characters fully into the terrors and wonders of the oceans.

The play begins with a group of refugees from the American Civil War meeting the man who enabled them to survive their escape, Captain Nemo, now older, alone and questioning his prior life as a terror of the seas. It then flashes back to where the book begins, introducing French professor of natural history Morgan Aronnax, who receives a last-minute invitation to join the crew of the USS Bainbridge, under Captain Farragut, who is commissioned to seek and destroy whatever is terrorizing the seas—be it craft or creature. Aronnax postulates a giant narwhal in a scene that brilliantly establishes her character and her position vis-à-vis her male colleagues. Kasey Foster does an admirable job of injecting charm into the generally no-nonsense and humorless professor, who is almost as single-minded in her pursuit of knowledge as Nemo in his pursuit of vengeance and domination. Kareem Bandealy is hampered by a script that does not allow him to fully realize the zealous evil of Nemo—despite his powerful presence and overbearing bluster, he gets bogged down in the scenes that switch to introspection and long-winded revelation. Scenes that allow him to do this while perpetrating acts of terror (the sinking of a naval vessel, for example) serve the plot much better than dinner time polemics and elegiac remembrances of his role in the Great Mutiny of 1847, which led to the losses that spurred his vengeance against imperialism. Rounding out the quartet that forms the center of the narrative are Walter Briggs as the cheeky Ned Land, a harpooner brought on board the Bainbridge to help destroy the monster responsible for the deaths of so many sailors, and Lanise Antoine Shelley as Conseil. Briggs brings the right balance of swagger and empathy to his role, and Shelley makes a good audience foil for the occasionally delusional professor, pointedly and humorously reminding her of the realities of their positions as women in a male world, and then as prisoners (not guests) of the mad Captain Nemo. Nemo’s “guests” also prove themselves to be up to the physical challenges of taking on human and cephalopod foes (Shelley has a brilliant and harrowing encounter with the latter). The rest of the cast—Thomas J. Cox, Joe Dempsey, Micah Figueroa, Edwin Lee Gibson and Glenn-Dale Obrero--provide some of the most striking moments of the evening and fill the stage with a multitude of supporting characters. Cox anchors the crew of Civil War wanderers and helps flesh out the alternate narrative. Joe Dempsey makes an impression as Pencroff, whose gratitude towards Nemo fuels his understanding and as the surprisingly open-minded and humorous Captain Farragut. Edwin Lee Gibson brings stalwart nobility to Cyrus Smith, one of the men who encounters Nemo in the first scene, and a roguish pragmatism to the self-serving constable who allows Ned Land to board the U.S.S. Bainbridge with a little persuasion from the Captain. Micah Figueroa and Glenn-Dale Obrero also fill the ranks of the Civil War escapees (with a humorous turn from Figueroa as the naïve Harbert), as well as handling the bulk of the fighting and diving, including an amazing sequence of pearl diving that captures the best of Lookingglass’s take on Verne’s novel—providing spectacle and social commentary in a seamless melding of physical theater, puppetry and characterization.

It’s not perfect, but 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas has enough to satisfy young (tweens and up) and old. Though it tries valiantly and not always successfully to engage with the political themes of human rights and colonization, ultimately it is buoyed by a strong sense of good old-fashioned story-telling. The breathtaking special effects, aerial dance, puppet magic, and a committed and capable cast who can match the acting and physical demands of the spectacle more than make up for some ponderous philosophical ballast. There is enough food for thought to inspire conversation, but the focus, as it should, remains mostly on the undersea journeys of the Nautilus and its willing and unwilling crew members’ battles with Kareem Bandealy’s power-hungry Nemo and the natural perils of the seas. It is well worth hopping on board to witness the sea battles, sea spiders, fish, squid and other undersea wonders dreamed up by Lookingglass’s team, under the assured direction of David Kersnar.

20,000 Leagues Under the Seas runs through August 19, 2018, at Lookingglass Theater, 821 N. Michigan. Performances are Wednesdays-Sundays at 7:30 pm, and Sundays at 2:00 pm. For tickets and more information, visit www.lookingglasstheatre.org or call 312-337-0665.

*Extended through August 26th

Welcome to “For the Guitarist.” I am Ron Reis. I have been playing guitar for around forty years, studying theory for over thirty and teaching on and off for over twenty. This column/blog is aimed at all things related to our six-string friend. My guitars have been the best therapists I have ever had. When I need to calm my “monkey brain,” the best thing I can do is pick up my guitar.

Many people underestimate the meditative power of music. As a performer, you get lost in the music. As a listener, you are drawn into someone else’s thoughts and ideas. If you combine the two, you enter a state of nirvana. Music is one of the highest forms of communication. Real musicians do not play together. They carry on a conversation. They bounce ideas off each other’s heads. The audience gets to listen in on this exchange of sonic imaginations. I have even witnessed the two forces interact.

I saw The Grateful Dead in 1988. The last song they played in the second set was a Buddy Holly song, Not Fade Away. The beat was stolen from Bo Diddley. Bop, Bop, Bop...Bop-Bop. The crowd assumed the rhythm of the song. The band left the stage…the crowd kept the beat going for what seemed like five minutes…singing the chorus over and over. I was absolutely amazed. This was communication…real…honest…communication.

Not every musical situation gets this accomplished at that high a level. There should always be a mutual exchange. Both entities give the other what they need. How does this relate to playing the guitar? Well, it seems to me that should be the ultimate goal. Becoming successful on a financial level playing music is a wonderful idea. Having said that, most of the people that actually do are “performers” and not always “musicians.” There is a huge difference.

My goal with “For The Guitarist” is to help point the way. I do not claim to know everything on the subject. The idea is to assist in a somewhat guiding way, while learning for myself as well. I will discuss topics from theory to equipment and everything in between. I am also open to suggestions on topics for future articles. Anyone who likes can contact me at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. to drop me a line or two. I am serious about this, but let’s have a little fun too…the more fun the better!

The Wizard of Oz is fun for all ages — this is as true today as it was in 1939. While there is a special kind of magic exclusive to the film due to the phenomenal cast as well as the strong nostalgia surrounding it, there is another kind of magic exclusive to seeing the musical live onstage.

A cherished family musical, this is the perfect show to bring kids to; with the upbeat musical numbers, colorful cast and sets, and lovable characters, they’re sure to be entertained. The classic songs by Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg include "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," "If I Only Had a Brain," "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead," and more, almost all featuring peppy dance numbers with lively choreography by Amy McCleary.

With direction by Dean Sabon, who previously created the national tours of Fiddler on the Roof and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, this version of The Wizard of Oz brings new elements to a beloved classic.

One of the coolest things about this production is the use of a giant screen to serve as the various backgrounds, as opposed to elaborate set pieces for backdrop. This was utilized impressively during the twister scene when Dorothy and Toto seek shelter in Aunt Em and Uncle Henry’s house, among other scenes, having a 3-D effect that was exciting to watch. Throughout, the production uses a fun combination of traditional theatre sets and tech-y special effects.

The Wizard of Oz is playing at the Chicago Theatre through May 20th. Tickets on Ticketmaster.

Forget everything you know about A Midsummer Night's Dream. Don't recall images of the classical ballet, or lines from Shakespeare's play, and definitely don't think about how often the singular possessive noun is used incorrectly by putting the possessive on the wrong word. A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Joffrey Ballet trumps any rendition of the classic you’ve ever seen. It is a trip, and needs to be experienced in order to fully appreciate it.

The artistic direction was inspired not by the play but by the actual tradition of Midsummer, specifically celebrated in Sweden. In Sweden, Midsummer's Eve is one of the most important days of the year, rivaling Christmas with its festive spirit and traditions. Traditionally, Midsummer was celebrated on June 24, the feast day of St. John the Baptist, but the holiday has its roots in a pre-Christian solstice festival.

The play opens with a sleeping man who awakes in a dream like state to take a roll in the hay. The curtain rises revealing the Joffrey corps beating and rolling in the hay in perfect unison. They are jubilant, frolicking before an enormous sun, the entire stage and wings exposed to lend the scene a rustic, industrial feel. After cleaning up the hay, the midsummer festivities begin, there is laughter, kissing, sunbathing, dancing around a maypole, wearing crowns of wild flowers, toasting to the audience, all culminating in a Gatsby like way until they pass out, crawl, or drag each other home. Americans needs to adopt this holiday immediately. Accompanied by a haunting, ethereal vocalist, the ballet took us on a fantastic and hilarious trip.

Contrasting the first act’s dreamlike party, the second act was a trippy nightmare complete with a passionate pas de deux, dead fish, and Wild Wild Country-like expressions of raw emotion (those who've watched the documentary know what I’m talking about). The trip was a slow burn, building in intensity and complexity, leaving the audience to exclaim, “I have no idea what I just watched, but I loved it.”

Sitting behind the Swedish ambassador to the United States and her delegation, Rahm Emmanuel and his wife in attendance, and a packed house, the Joffrey's premiere of this production could not have been more well received. The swedish guests beamed and marveled at the ballet, and were the first to rise and give a standing ovation. Ashley Wheater, the ballet’s artistic director, celebrating his 10th year with the company, has created a modern festival that encapsulates the fervor and the magic of the Midsummer holiday. The jubilation is not lost in translation even though Americans do not have an equivalent holiday to reference, instead they are exposed to what seems to be the greatest holiday since Halloween. With choreography and set design by Alexander Ekman, and music by Mikael Karlsson, they've developed a piece that showcases not only the ballet dancers contemporary prowess, strength, and grace, but also gave them room to act, and laugh, and show their personalities in a way that I've never seen in any other ballet production. It's nothing short of a modern masterpiece.

There's an old Swedish proverb that says “Midsummer night is not long, but it sets many cradles to rock,” which accurately summarizes this ballet. I encourage you to let your imagination interpret the proverb, think about this when viewing this marvelous and magical production, and to lobby Rahm to adopt this holiday as Chicago’s newest summer tradition.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream plays at the Auditorium Theater through May 6th, tickets can be purchased at http://www.joffrey.org/midsummer.

In so many aspects of life, two is better than one. The Studebaker Theater knows all about this principle and brought together two operas in the space of one evening: il Pigmalione + Rita.

A double bill of Italian composter Domenico Gaetano Maria Donizetti’s first work and one of his last, the two works have been theatrically combined to flow seamlessly together and highlight the progression of Donizetti’s musical artistry and his thoughts on themes of love and romance throughout his compositional career. il Pigmalione is about a devoted artist Pigmalione, shuttered in his studio, toils away in his studio to create his vision of ideal beauty: Galatea. Smitten with his own work, his prayers for true love are answered when she’s brought to life.

The scene then transitions, characters age and develop, and Galatea becomes Rita, a self-reliant café owner on the Italian coast. Pigmalione is revealed to be the sensitive artistic side of Beppe, Rita’s overworked and foolish husband.  In the second comedic opera, a love triangle plunges Rita and Beppe into chaos when her first husband, Gasparo, presumed dead for years, returns. In Gasparo’s return, Beppe sees an opportunity to escape his exhausting situation, and so the two men face off to determine who must stay and who gets to leave.  Meanwhile Rita ponders if she needs either man in her life.

The operas themselves had easy to follow storylines, were short, and in the case of Rita, was lively and humorous. Between operas, the stagehands performed slapstick comedy to entertain the audience and transition the audience, as well as the stage, into the Italian coast featuring Rita’s café. Audience members were pulled into Donizetti’s world even as it surpassed decades. I myself had never seen, nor heard, of the operas, but was pleasantly surprised by the lightness of the operas and the overall experience.

Unlike the Lyric Opera, there was an ease about the performance and an effortlessness in the performances of the singers. They were powerful but not pompous and seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. The Studebaker Theater itself, an inconspicuous theater located in the Fine Arts Building on Michigan Avenue, also lent the feeling of ease. It’s comfortable and intimate space, seating at most 500 people, packed a full orchestra and allowed for the entire audience to see, hear, and experience the opera in a way the grandeur of the Lyric Opera cannot.

For those eager to experience the opera for the first time, or seasoned opera goers, il Pigmalione + Rita is a must see. Though Rita might not be able to decide if two husbands is better than one (or none), two Donizetti operas are far better than one and you could still want more.

il Pigmalione + Rita is now playing at The Studebaker Theater (410 S Michigan Ave, Chicago, IL 60605). Tickets can be purchased at https://www.chicagooperatheater.org/box-office/.

If you’re weary of Chicago’s delayed Spring, do yourself a favor and take a warming break with the sunny pairing of two rarely heard one act operas by Gaetano Donizetti as presented this chilly Saturday evening at the Studebaker Theater by Chicago Opera Theater.

“Il Pigmalione” was Donizetti’s first opera, completed when he was 19, studying at the Bologna Academy. He was a prolific and highly successful composer over three decades of the early 19th century. The comic opera “Rita” was written a quarter century later at the height of his musical and theatrical abilities. In between these operatic bookends are nearly 70 more operas. Only a few have remained in the standard repertoire: the beloved “Lucia di Lammermoor”, “The Elixir of Love”, “Don Pasquale”, and happily of late, the Tudor Queen operas. His other works are occasionally dusted off as a curiosity or a vehicle for an important singing artist. COT does much more than blow the dust off these two neglected pieces; they are infused with life in a thoughtful, loving and altogether winning way.

We have nothing but praise for Amy Hutchinson’s stage direction. It unfailingly served the music and the drama with a light touch which is, sadly, infrequent these days. Ms. Hutchinson trusts the material, the performers and, most importantly, the audience. Her abundant creativity is evident throughout, but she never bludgeons us with her “concept”. Both operas are set in post-World War II Italy, a time of hope and renewal. The press notes would have us think that during intermission, years pass and Pygmalion and Galatea age and develop into the characters for the second opera of the production. This contrivance is neither apparent nor necessary. If they were either, they wouldn’t need to be explained. The contrasting works go quite well together, yet each stand on their own merit as performed by the talented cast and creative team.

“Il Pigmalione” is based on Ovid’s telling of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea; the sculptor who falls in love with his own creation - a beautiful statue of a woman - who comes to life. George Bernard Shaw’s play adaptation concerns not a sculptor and a block of marble, but a professor of phonics and a Cockney flower seller. This version was famously adapted for the Broadway stage by Lerner and Lowe, as “My Fair Lady” starring Julie Andrews, and an Oscar-winning movie featuring the exquisite Audrey Hepburn (with the voice of Marni Nixon), as Eliza Doolittle. An image reminiscent of Ms. Hepburn, or as Bill thinks, more like Sophia Loren, graces the COT promotional materials for the performance and sets the tone for a fresher look at the myth.

Recalling Mozartean strains of the 18th century, we find the artist Pigmalione alone in his shabby, cluttered studio surrounded by his works: paintings, photographs, films, - and a life size statue under wraps. In a space reminiscent of the garret of Puccini’s Bohemians, the distraught Pigmalione tastefully and poetically expresses his obsessive and rather creepy love for his sculpture, as a lonely person might for an inflatable sex aid.

Tenor Javier Abreu brought an ingenuous stage presence and uncommonly warm leggiero voice to the title role. He possesses an innate musicality and an affinity for the Bel Canto style. Florid passages were clean and elegant, but his highest notes lacked the clarion ring our ears wanted to hear. There were also a few awkward register changes, perhaps a technical issue, or as Bill suggested, perhaps the young Donizetti hadn’t yet learned how to write for the tenor voice, which, in time he would do so well. Mr. Abreu has tremendous talent, so we hope he will work those things out.

Projections designed by John Boesche, brought magic and charm to Pigmalione’s dream of his ideal love and the transformation scene, in which Galatea, played by the alluring Angela Mortellaro, comes to life. She joins her creator/new lover in a sweet duet, giving us just a brief taste of Ms. Mortellaro’s vocal gifts. The opera ends with the couple in each other’s arms, with no hint of what lies ahead.

Reading that the cast would be joined by supernumeraries and 500 Clown with Adrian Danzig as “Director of Clowning” gave us pause. In 50 years of opera-going, we’d never encountered a Director of Clowning before. Too often stage directors, especially those with only spoken theater experience, clutter up the stage with meaningless antics as if they themselves find opera boring. Naturally, we were wary, but all fears were dispelled by the remarkably clever but never cloying work of the ensemble. We were introduced to the clowns during the intermezzo, with two bumbling “stage hands” trying to clear the Pygmalion set for the next offering with classic slapstick comedy, in keeping with the tradition of Commedia Dell’ Arte as passed down to Charlie Chapman and Laurel & Hardy. Fun, but not overdone.

The opening of “Rita”, set on the Amalfi coast, was close to breathtaking – the colors, the light, the sea and the attractive hotel-café make it seem the best place ever for your next vacation. Rita (Ms. Mortellano) owns the establishment, and her second husband Beppe (Mr. Abreu) does all the work. You might think he would have to have ten hands and feet to get it all done. The comic flair and physicality displayed by Mr. Abreu was an unexpected treat after his serious and sincere portrayal of the troubled Pygmalion. He is a brave performer.

Ms. Mortellano pulled off the tricky task of making Donizetti’s strong headed female lead, (like Norina and Adina), seem self-assured without becoming a virago. Her plush lyric soprano was at times glorious, but at times lost focus, usually at times of excessive physicality. Bill noted that the best vocalism of the night was when the artists were allowed to stand still and sing. Conductors sometimes needs to rein in the stage directors so that the cavorting doesn’t interfere with the singing.

A guest arrives at the hotel and is discovered to be Gasparo, Rita’s first husband, presumed to have died in a shipwreck. Baritone Keith Phares as Gasparo has a fine robust voice, clear and even from top to bottom, and brings off the swagger and arrogance of a bullying husband in a believable but not too disturbing way. There is no getting around the domestic violence in the piece, but it is handled with care and humor, so that it is not dismissed, but not distressing either. Lessons are learned, and just desserts are served.

In an amusing twist on the usual baritone vs. tenor rivalry for the soprano, the two men actually vie to get away from Rita. In an utterly enchanting scene, Beppe rejoices in his new-found freedom when he wins the right to leave Rita to her first husband.

Written in the opera comique style with spoken dialogue between the musical numbers, as in “The Daughter of the Regiment”, this production took advantage of the opportunity to engage the audience, adding contemporary references and jokes. Brava to Ms. Hutchinson for making the most of the wit and comedy without having to resort to vulgarity or triteness. Credit also must go to Ms. Hutchinson and Mr. Danzig for their collaboration; the clowning was perfect - hilarious and always part of the scene.

The set, ingeniously designed by William Boles and handsomely lit by Ted Nazarowski, the orchestra under the sensitive and capable direction of Francesco Milioto played well. Margaret noted the especially the lovely oboe solos of Grace Hong. Congratulations are due to Mssrs. Boles, Nazarowski and Boesch for the stunning visuals. They provided a refreshing antidote to the dreary Chicago weather outside. Shanna Foster’s creative and appealing costumes were enhanced by the make-up and wig design by Becky Scott.

We left the theater with a feeling of joy. Lovers of Bel Canto opera should relish this opportunity to hear two of Donizetti’s lesser known operas in this marvelous production. More casual opera goers wanting to elevate date night will find it thoroughly entertaining. Two performances remain, Friday April 20th at 7:30 p.m., and Sunday afternoon April 22 at 3:00 p.m. at the Studebaker Theater, 410 South Michigan Avenue, Chicago, IL 60605. For tickets go to chicagotheater.org or call 312 704-8414.

By the OperaSwains (Bill and Margaret Swain)

Seated in the venue before the show, I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. With a title like, The Rosenkranz Mysteries: Physician Magician, my first thought was of a murder mystery. The set, designed to mimic a well-appointed study or office, didn’t give any real clues. Enter our host for the evening, Dr. Ricardo Rosenkranz.

Dr. Ricardo Rosenkranz is not just a character. He really is a REAL DOCTOR. He is a neonatologist and Assistant Professor in Clinical Pediatrics at Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine. He has been practicing both medicine and magic for many years.

In the opening scene, The Puzzle of Life, the well-respected professor sets the stage for what the next 90 minutes will reveal. The Rosenkranz Mysteries are the doctor’s lessons and insights into life shared, with the audience through 12 vignettes using charming storytelling and theatrical magic.

Similar to Stevie Wonders’ weaving song titles like Confusion, Ordinary Pain and Joy Inside My Tears into the album “Songs from the Key of Life”, Dr. Rosenkranz weaves his story with scenes like The Magical Childhood, Perfect Empathy, and finally Ricardo’s Thread (a tribute to his mentor - highly acclaimed magician Eugene Burger).

Dr. Rosenkranz’s skill as a story teller is both calming and reassuring. There is a bit of a mystical vibe in the theatre when he is speaking. The intimate theatre setting, and the warm tone of his voice created a comfort level as if we were all sitting in the parlor of the doctor’s home listening to his sage advice and philosophies on life. He speaks of magic and medicine almost interchangeably, in a manner that I can only describe as Disney-esque. His demeanor could easily place him at Hogwarts. He quickly earned my trust.

The magical content of the performance was equally enjoyable and entertaining… and yes, mysterious. The illusions and magic were truly mind-boggling even though it was not grandiose or glitzy (no fireworks or clouds of smoke). From my front row seat, I was certain that I would “catch a slip up” to disprove the magic, but instead I was left pleasantly confounded and amazed. He is truly gifted as a magician. He definitely brings a personal element to the entire program, and frequently mentions his inspiration during both his dialogue and feats of magic. It’s easy to sense how important the weaving of magic and being a physician together is to him.

This is certainly a “feel good” experience in a way that stays with you. I still catch myself smiling as I’m writing this review 24 hours after the show. I highly recommend this show as it is both witty and intelligent.

While this show is family-friendly, the subtlety of the life lessons may go unappreciated by the pre-teen audience members.

The Rosenkranz Mysteries: Physician Magician is showing at The Royal George Theatre Cabaret, 1641 N Halsted Street in Chicago for a limited engagement.

Returning to the Auditorium Theatre after a long 20-year absence is Hubbard Street Dance Chicago with its 40th Anniversary Spring Series. This edition spotlights Spanish born Resident Choreographer Alejandro Cerrudo, who joined Hubbard Street Dance Chicago in 2005, and was named Choreographic Fellow in 2008 and became the company’s first Resident Choreographer in 2009. He’s a recipient of multiple awards, including prestigious Rudolf Nureyev Prize for New Dance.

The show is a progression of Cerrudo’s works, from old to new. It has a pleasant start with his earliest piece, Lickety Split, originally performed in 2006 at the Harris Theater as part of the Inside/Out Choreographic workshop. Celebrating athletic femininity and confident masculinity and set to music by renowned songwriter Devendra Banhart, Lickety Split is about modern love and romantic relationships. It’s very beautiful and has well balanced energies.
But then something completely unexpected happens. The spotlight is on a balcony where a captivating, extravagantly dressed and coiffed female (Rena Butler) is seated, casually talking to the audience about the nature of reality. She is smoking a pipe, while blowing our minds with [Alan Watts’] philosophical concepts. Amazing.

And so the drama begins. More new age philosophy is injected into the show when David Schultz walks out on stage, wearing a cane and delivering another serving of food for thought. The following piece, Off Screen, though highly theatrical, doesn’t take itself too seriously. Inspired entirely by film, it makes lighthearted mockery of Italian musicals and romantic European movies. The music is comprised of 16 passages from various movie scores. Off Screen features seven dancers layering gorgeous fluid movements as if in a dream, their dancing defying gravity and somehow helping to get across the spiritual points introduced earlier. Off Screen was Cerrudo’s third work created for Hubbard Street back in 2009.

After the intermission, it’s the energetic Silent Ghost that originally premiered in 2015 at the Aspen Santa Fe ballet. It feels tribal yet romantic, despite the monochromatic costumes.

The grand finale of the evening is the world premiere of Out of Your Mind. This piece brings everything together: the mysterious monologues earlier in the show, the flow and progression of the pieces, the dreamy dancing. What makes it futuristic is the pulsating energy, and the shapes and configurations of the dancers. At some point, orderly chaos ensues on stage, dancers moving in waves [and somehow particles]. Set to the soundtrack of the soothing voice of the contemporary philosopher Alan Watts, it’s a breathtakingly beautiful and uplifting experience. The piece was inspired by Alan Watts’ lectures called “Out of Your Mind”; Cerrudo borrowed the music that was used in the audio of the lectures and used it in this piece. I’d say contemplating God possibly never looked more spectacular.

Women Laughing Alone with Salad from Theater Wit is a funny mess. Based on the popular meme of stock photos of women who always seem to be having the time of their lives while eating a bowl of tasteless raw vegetables, the play tries to satirize this concept. The concept being that only stringently healthy and active women can be happy, and the only happy women are stringently healthy and active. As if the hysterical laughing accompanying the salad in the photo will trick us into loving the most boring meal known to humankind.

The best scene might have been when the four person cast did exactly what it says on the tin: they smiled and laughed and eventually full-out boogied while eating salad. The satire here was on point, and I loved the straight-up mocking of ridiculous advertisements aimed toward women. Look at how much FUN we're having depriving ourselves of any carbohydrates - a thing our bodies *need*, by the way!

As far as the actual storyline goes, it was, like the lettuce confetti that rained down onstage at one point, all over the place. Many things were trying to be said, I think, but the play never makes a clear point. Nobody learns anything, characters or audience. The audience is led to believe that all skinny women are annoying and bulimic and "real" women are confident in their voluptuousness, until the rug is pulled out from under us and we learn that, surprise, the "real" woman is a slave to salad, too.

There were a lot of elements that, on the surface, give this play an edge: nudity, a threesome scene, an Oedipal complex, some gender-swapped roles, which were entertaining, but to me seemed like folderol distracting from the fact that the story was haphazard.

I appreciated the bravery of the actors and playwright Sheila Callaghan for taking the leap -- the acting was well-done and the script did shine through occasionally with some great, funny lines -- but this play was anything but salad: Big, flashy empty calories. Fun to eat, but with little nutritional value.

Women Laughing Alone With Salad is playing at Theater Wit through April 29th. Tickets at TheaterWit.org.

*Extended through May 2nd!

Benny Golson is one of the last great tenor saxophone players of his generation. To say he has been around would be an understatement of sizable proportions. He also likes to talk…a lot…about the good old days of Jazz.
Benny is eighty-nine years old, but still plays a horn very well. He comes from the Be Bop school. A legend in his own time, Golson has played with the best of that generation and still is one of the best. Jazz barely exists today like it did in the golden era. Musicians study the art form, but I am not sure they live it as they once did. Being a musician requires a bit of sacrifice to say the least, which was especially true in the early days of Jazz. You played music because that’s what you did.

Golson introduced each number at Jazz Showcase with a somewhat extensive monologue. Nobody seemed bothered by this. In fact, it was quite charming. Each story topped the previous with an absolute sense of sweetness in their general theme. I personally enjoyed his talking as much as his playing. This well-versed man with his amazing vocabulary is living proof of the intelligence that dwells in the musical mind.

But what about the music? The music lived up to the legend. Having an amazing band assured victory in his pursuits. The Benny Golson Quartet was comprised of seasoned veterans. They even did a number without Golson and held their own as a fantastic trio.

Mike Kocour really stood out on Thelonius Monk’s “Epistrophy”. He was on piano and owned that song as far as I am concerned. Monk’s music is eclectic to say the least and Kocour did it justice. Larry Gray played upright bass and delivered some amazingly musical solos. Drummer George Fludas is one solid player who shined like a diamond on “Blues March,” a Golson composition.

Golson touching introduction of “I Remember Clifford” brought me to tears. Clifford Brown was killed in a car accident at the age of twenty-five. This song is Benny’s tribute to a fallen friend and a highly talented trumpet player. The Jazz community was very close knit back in those days. This was essentially an extended family that went beyond the musicians to the fans as well. Actually, that seems to exist, just in much smaller numbers than before.

We all need to do our part in supporting live music and I am not talking about stadium shows either. Without knocking any form of music, I'll just say that going to see music played in a small club like Jazz Showcase is witnessing a creative process in action. There are no video screens or rehearsed dance numbers. All you get is music at its genesis or at a continually evolving level of communication. The other thing you get is to witness are the human expressions of emotion. Joy, sadness and every other possible state of mind are shared with the audience. Cherish these moment while they are still available.