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Two Wings a Loving Triumph

May 28, 2019 by Greg Threze

Jason and Alicia Hall Moran photo by Dawoud Bey

Children have no notion of history.  Even that of their own family.  It takes their own curiosity or the initiative of an adult to help shed light on who they are and how they fit into the world.  For most of the Black children whose parents and grandparents left the South between 1901 and 1970, there wasn’t a name tied to their leaving Arkansas to go to Pittsburg.  Or Mississippi to go to Chicago.  Or Georgia to go to New York.  But there was always a reason; few of them frivolous and not all of them spoken.  The root explanation for most could simply be called survival; of the spirit as well as the flesh.  You might be compelled to leave because you took a stance for your own dignity and chose not to pay for it with your life.  Or you might leave because your cousin told you General Motors was hiring in Detroit and you were fed up with picking that “dirty” cotton.  Over those 70 years more than 6 million Black Americans left what could be thought of as bondage of the mind and spirit to go somewhere that had to better than where they were.

It’s that long, painful and ultimately triumphant pilgrimage that Jason Moran and his wife Alicia Hall Moran celebrated at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra last night in a fete that proved as extravagant as it was ambitious.  As beautiful visually as it was musically. 

Period Poster depicting the Great Migration

Intended as a homage to the resilience, fortitude and creativity of those who gambled and traveled north, Two Wings, The Music of Black America in Migration was just as much as reflection of the Morans and their personal heritage. 

Outlining their own families’ migrations from Oklahoma in mezzo soprano’s Alicia Hall Moran’s case and Louisiana and Texas in MacArthur Genius recipient Jason Moran’s, they wove a coat of many colors using strands of classical, blues, jazz, and opera to showcase the breadth of impact black music has had and is having on the culture.  And they used the narrative of Pulitzer Prize winning cultural critic Margo Jefferson to bind it all together.  Jefferson’s clear eyed recounting of growing up black in Chicago proved colorful and beautiful in its own right.

Margo Jefferson

Born in 1947 as the child of a pediatrician and his socialite wife, Jefferson grew up in a city still ballooning with the influx black Americans heading north.  She saw and felt the impact of the migration directly.  Even as a child of black privilege, neither she or her parents were immune from the large and small slights of racism.  Her words as the evening’s host were used to link each segment of the fast gliding three-hour program that included more than its share of highlights.  Words have rarely been so effectively and attractively used to form the foundation of a musical presentation.

Mr. Moran seemed to intentionally downplay his intimidatingly virtuosic piano skills to let everyone else shine.  His rendition of Carolina Strut was one sparkling exception.  Written by James P. Johnson in the early 20’s with “a bass line that walks” and all “about movement and syncopation”, it was a tremendously popular staple of the day.   Ace musicians in Harlem routinely used it to test one another’s creative breadth and technical skills. Moran’s electrifying rendition left the Symphony Center audience surging. 

Jason Moran & Alicia Hall Moran photo by Fadi Kheir

On the other end of the spectrum, his four-part chamber piece performed with renowned wind ensemble, Imani Winds, was wrapped in subtlety and lovely melody with whiffs of a New Orleans wrapped in chiffon and was a dedication to the soil from which his family first began its journey.

Joined by an elite squad of pinnacle artists that included Pastor Smokie Norful whose performance segued from the raucous release of a Saturday night to the reverential reflection of a Sunday morning, he riveted the audience with refreshing intellectualism, passion, and explosive singing talent.

Mr. Moran’s cousin and mentor Tony Llorens later slid in to escort the piano through a round of exceptional blues with the Rico McFarland contributing sumptuous colors on electric guitar.

Jason Moran and the Kenwood Academy Jazz Orchestra

Collaborating frequently on projects like the one culminating in Two Wings, The Morans always manage to look forward even when they’re paying tribute to the past.  Mr. Moran, whose connections with Chicago go deep; has also established a close relationship with Hyde Park’s Kenwood Academy’s Jazz Band.  With his interest and involvement, the band has travelled to D.C. to perform at the Kennedy Center and has recorded a highly capable and successful album with the acclaimed pianist.  It was their youthful energy clothed in tuxes and the simple elegance of one piece long black dresses that filled the Symphony Center stage with an undeniable freshness and glimpse into the future. Accompanied by eight members of the school’s drum and bugle corps, resplendent in red marching jackets and ornate military styled hats, the ensemble added visual flair and the soul rattling urgency of rolling drums to an exhilarating and memorable celebration of musical heritage.

Two Wings:  The Music of Black America in Migration

Symphony Center

May 24, 2019

220 S. Michigan Ave.

Chicago, IL   60604

https://cso.org/

Filed Under: Trollin' Adventures

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Show Your Gratitude to Chicago’s Arts Community

March 28, 2020 By Mitchell Oldham

2400 Block of Estes Ave. – Chicago – photo City Pleasures

The impact of the coronavirus has unalterably reached into the lives of everyone and shown us of our common vulnerability.  We will rise from the withering blow it’s dealt to our spirits and to the way we are accustomed to living our lives.  

This crisis, like most hardships, does not encroach and disrupt our lives equally.   One’s age, calling, income, zip code and profession all determine how deeply the ramifications of the epidemic affect you. 

City Pleasures covers the arts community.  Actors, dancers, musicians and the venues that showcase their talent are being devastated by their inability to either practice their craft or feature artistic talent.  Because they need our help, City Pleasures is sharing ways that allow anyone financially capable to provide support to do so.  Some of those channels extend beyond the arts and entertainment community by design and list opportunities to also contribute needed relief to Chicago neighborhoods and the most vulnerable.

There are several ways to support the theater community.  Individual theater companies as well as all non-profit arts organization accept support through direct donations, the purchase of a ticket, gift cards or subscriptions.  The homepage of your favorite theater or theaters will direct you on how to do so.

If you would like your contributions to be broad based, the City of Chicago and the United Way of Metro Chicago have launched the Chicago Community Covid-19 Response Fund “to unite the funds raised by Chicago’s philanthropies, corporations and individuals to be disbursed to nonprofit organizations across the region”, including those in the arts. 

Click here to donate:  https://www.chicagocovid19responsefund.org/

One Chicago entertainment institution’s Training Center is taking comedy to the clouds by offering classes online. To find out more about or enroll in Second City’s comedy at home lessons, visit:   https://www.secondcity.com/comedyfromyourcouch.   Areas of focus include “Creating and Pitching Your TV Series”, “Teen Standup” and “Voiceover 101”.

Day of Absence, Refreshed and Brilliant at VG

March 6, 2020 By Mitchell Oldham

Sonya Madrigal, Ann Joseph, Bryant Hayes – Jazmyne Fountain photography

When Douglas Turner Ward wrote his pioneering one act play, Day of Absence, in 1965; he had a very clear intent.  He wanted to write a play exclusively for a black audience.  An audience that did not then exist. He was also working with a highly specific set of objectives.  Expectedly, he wanted to write a play that spoke to the lives black people lived, but he also aimed to create a work that was implicit and allowed his audience to fill in the blanks.  One that was subtle and edged with fine threads of sophistication.  And just as importantly, he wanted to write something that did not put his audience to sleep.

He came up with two plays, both in one acts, Happy Ending and Day of Absence that played simultaneously at the St. Mark’s Playhouse in New York.  Both plays grew legs and are regularly reprised on the contemporary stage. 

Douglas Turner Ward – photo courtesy WNYC

When they were originally created 55 years ago, Ward also had to track down and recruit an audience by going anywhere the black public gathered; social clubs, union halls, beauty shops to rustle them up.  His tactic worked and the productions played over 500 shows at the St. Mark’s. 

Congo Square is only presenting Day of Absence on Victory Garden’s Christiansen stage right now.  And as wonderful as it is, the current production won’t be running as long as it did when the play debuted back in ‘65.   Making it even more of a must see. Even today it’s startling to see what Ward did with this jewel.  A spare play with very few props, Day of Absence, like any top-tier theatrical creation intended for live performance, thrives on a gleaming story and fantastic characters.  And it achieves everything Ward originally hoped to accomplish plus. 

Taking an approach that says, “We know how you see us, now let us show you how we see you”, Day of Absence is all about reversals and looking at the world through different eyes.  Normally, the cast is all Black.  But this updated adaptation broadens what “black” is by making it anyone not white; resulting in cast made up of both brown and black performers.

Kelvin Roston Jr and Ronald L. Conner – Jazmyne Fountain photography

The overriding constant is that the play is still performed in white face, (and lots of wigs) with minorities portraying whites in a small southern town.

Opening quietly, a couple of regular guys working in a mall are just getting their day started. Luke (Ronald L. Conner) and Clem (Kelvin Roster, Jr.) share small talk southern style and toss shout outs to regulars as they peruse the routine landscape of their work lives.  Clem’s older and Teddy Bear homey, Luke’s younger, gruffer and lost in his cell phone.  It takes a minute or two, more like several, but Clem finally picks up on something.  Something that’s not quite right or out of kilter.  Suddenly stricken, he realizes he hasn’t seen a black person all day.  Half the population.  Luke’s slower to accept something that ridiculous.  Until he can’t do otherwise. 

Jordan Arredondo, Meagan Dilworth – Jazmyne Fountain photography

Performed as satire, Day of Absence chronicles what happens when a constant of life disappears.  One that you may take for granted, resignedly tolerate or even benignly dismiss depending on your mood.  More interestingly, it’s a story about how people react.  What do they say and do in what quickly escalates into crisis and chaos. 

Anthony Irons directed the production and achieved a master stroke by having his characters, or more precisely his characterizations, vie with the plot for overall strength.  The way Ronald Conner portrays nonchalant insouciance is about as winning as it gets.  Later we find him equally transfixing playing a completely different role.  Roston, with his delicious phrasing and the pitch perfect softness of his drawl, is just as effective as Clem.

Ronald L. Conner, Ann Joseph – photo Jazmyne Fountain

The action streams briskly through three backdrops.  The mall, John and Mary’s bedroom and the mayor’s office.  John (Jordan Arredondo) and Mary (Meagan Dilworth) make their discovery of the vanishing rudely when their new born wails plaintively through the night and there’s no one to tend to it.  There’s no Kiki, no Black three-in-one, nursemaid housemaid cook, to intervene and relieve the stress of parenthood.    Dilworth’s Mary is so preciously inept at doing anything useful you’re tempted to feel sorry for her.  But that sympathy would be horribly misplaced.  Dilworth still makes a splendid Mary whose only skill is to function as a household “decoration”.  Arredondo as her husband fills his role to the brim with manly character and pragmatism.  When he valiantly volunteers to go the hood to look for Kiki and finds nothing short of a ghost town where “not even a little black dog” could be sighted, he’s all business and entitled indignation.

Ward created the consummate repository for the town’s angst and ire in the mayor.  And director Irons knew exactly how to shape the character as an unforgettable foil. Unflappable and supremely confident, the mayor’s sense of privilege and the power she insinuates take on regal dimensions.  In the right hands and under the right direction, it’s a fantastic role and one that Ann Joseph fills beautifully.  Ordinarily a male actor plays the part and Jackson is the last name of his female personal assistant/secretary/gopher.   Here Jackson is the second role Mr. Conner inhabits so vividly and with so much virtuosity.  Always on point and a bit self-consciously effete, he’s deferential to a fault and ever vigilant about watching his own back.

Ward shrewdly built a lot of humor into the play.  And this effort takes advantage of every morsel.  It even adds more zest causing the whole affair to frequently tip over into the hilarious.   The perfume skit alone deserves its own baby Tony award.  Despite the outright comedy, the underlying subtext couldn’t be more biting.  Bryant Hayes as Clan and Kelvin Roston, Jr. in his dual role as Rev. Pious represent the true demons Ward is battling in his lasting contribution to the American stage.

This adaptation, cleverly updated with the playwright’s permission, makes it shine like new money.  

Day of Absence

Through March 27, 2020

Victory Gardens Theater

2433 N. Lincoln Ave.

773-871-3000

www.congosquaretheatre.com

A Fiery Birthday with the Boys

February 25, 2020 By Mitchell Oldham

William Marquez, Kyle Patrick, Sam Bell Gurwitz, Denzel Tsopnang in Windy City Playhouse’s Boys in the Band, photo credit Michael Brosilow

Time and a change of perspective can allow you to appreciate things you once abhorred. That maxim can be true of many things.  Music, art, food.  People.  It was true of Boys in the Band.  When Mart Crowley’s 1968 bombshell of a play rolled out on celluloid in 1970, it rightfully caused the world to shutter.  Never had anyone so boldly pulled back the curtain to reveal the inner-life of the dispossessed as vividly or as candidly as Mr. Crowley had done.  Now celebrating its 50th anniversary, people are still wondering how accurate his painful picture of gay life is.    

Having recently experienced the very fine Windy City Playhouse immersive take on the play, there’s no doubt many will be wondering the same thing 50 years from now.

The cast of Windy City Playhouse’s The Boys in the Band, photo credit Michael Brosilow

Listening to Mr. Crowley talk about how he came to write his landmark; how he was broke, out of work, without prospects and angry, the cathartic aura surrounding the play was finally given a cause.  Still, because you don’t expect friendship to take on such ruthlessly hurtful dimensions, those explanations don’t satisfy the question of intensity or the depths of some the play’s caustic plunges.

William Boles scenic design played a key role in helping to provide the audience a tactile understanding of the times, place and people at this dark birthday party Michael (Jackson Evans) was throwing for his newly 32-year-old best friend Harold.  Ushered six at a time through a tastefully appointed residential lobby and taken up the pretend elevator to the 5th floor, the audience enters Michael’s resplendent apartment as if they themselves were guests.  The party hadn’t started.  Michael wasn’t there.  You could walk around and admire his beautiful spirit decanters.  The lovely artistic touches.  The drama of the sunken conversation pit.  70s chic at its highest.   All in deep red with accents in gold and in blue. The room radiated not only success, but power.

The set of Windy City Playhouse’s The Boys in the Band, photo credit Michael Brosilow

After everyone’s settled, Michael sweeps in doing last minute party preparation things.  Putting the food out and the music on.  You notice that even when the first guest, Donald (Jordan Dell Harris) arrives, things aren’t particularly warm.  Nor are you immediately clear on Michael and Donald’s relationship.  They’re more than just friends but not exactly lovers either?  And even though Donald’s sparring skills are impressive, Michael seems to take pleasure in baiting him with petty criticism.  Everyone else flows in shortly after Donald goes up to change.  Emory (William Marquez) and Bernard (Denzel Tsopnang) arrive together.  Lovers Larry (James Lee) and Hank (Ryan Reilly) are carrying the vestiges of a something bitter between them into the party.  It’s a spat that will continue to swell throughout the play.  Then Harold’s birthday present gets there much too early.  A prostitute, Cowboy is as dull witted as he is beautiful.  Even though he’s taunted by nearly everyone for his lack of intelligence, he’s also silently envied for his physical exceptionalism.  And there’s a straight outlier in the mix.  Michael’s close friend from college, back in a time when he was still in the closet, was in town and needed to see him.  So much so that he wept with desperation when talking to Michael on the phone.  Not being able to dissuade him, Michael invited Alan (Christian Edwin Cook) to the party as well, hoping to somehow camouflage the party’s gay complexion.

Christian Edwin Cook as Alan in Windy City Playhouse’s production of The Boys in the Band, photo credit- Michael Brosilow

The dynamics of the party are already roiling by the time he shows up.  Emory is being quintessential Emory.  So gay.  Not defiantly; more in a liberation of self sort of way.  His racial digs at Bernard, the only Black member of the party, were unsurprisingly catty but very curious.  Were these swipes supposed to be expressions of the times are something else?   Marquez made a splendid Emory.  Later, when he apologized to Bernard for his callousness, promising not to cause such conscious hurt in the future, he was contrite enough and sincere enough to be ingratiatingly convincing.  Which highlights one of key joys of the play; it’s exceptional casting.  The spat that would not die between Hank and Larry centered on Larry’s inability, in fact his refusal, to be faithful to Hank; who had left his wife and children to be with him.  Both James Lee as Larry and Ryan Reilly as Hank deliver a lot of honesty in their portrayals of what two people, who genuinely love one another, are willing to sacrifice to conquer an imposing barrier together. 

Denzel Tsopnang, William Marquez, James Lee and Jackson Evans in Windy City Playhouse’s The Boys in the Band, photo credit Michael Brosilow

Christian Edwin Cook’s characterization of Alan, Michael’s straight friend, proved the most surprising because of the voice director Carl Menninger chose for him to use.  He spoke with the diction and phrasing characteristic of blue bloods in the era when the Carnegies and Vanderbilts were flying high.  His speech alone set him apart from everyone else at the party.  Emory’s effeminacy however brought out his bile and even pushed him to violence.  His punishment:  he must remain at the party. 

Unfortunately, Tsopnang’s Bernard was the least developed of the eight central characters.  When Michael comes up with his insidious parlor game of calling the person you’ve always in your heart-of-hearts truly loved, and telling them your feelings for them, Bernard’s the first to gamely take up the challenge.  It was only then did we catch a tiny glimpse of his inner core.   By this time, everybody had had enough liquid courage to consider doing something so exposing and so ripe for humiliation.  Who Bernard chose to call was also marked by the kind of class and race disparities that shout futility. 

Jackson Evans and WIlliam Marquez in Windy City Playhouse’s The Boys in the Band, photo credit Michael Brosilow

Harold (Sam Bell-Gurvitz) had grandly made his infamous “32-year-old, ugly, pock marked Jew fairy” entrance by the time the game was in full swing.  Despite it ushering in the possibility of something positive for Larry and Hank, as it continues, the game seems to dredge up nothing but pain.  Michael’s adamancy about playing it turns pathological when you realize he’s the only one not drunk.  He’s been on the wagon for five weeks and therefore without an excuse for insisting that everyone take this wanton drive off a cliff.  When it back fires, sorrow for him does not exist.  And when he makes his plea like statement, “If we could just not hate ourselves so much”, you wonder why he doesn’t just direct that question to himself. 

Stonewall happened just one year after The Boys in the Band premiered off Broadway.  Led by a fistful of outraged fed-up drag queens, another landmark, gay pride, was born.  It’s fascinating to look at these two milestones side by side.  Whether you consider them a “before and after” or a continuum, they both are about community; with all the complexity the word embodies. 

Under Mr. Menninger’s enlightened direction, and mounted on Mr. Boles sensational set, Windy City’s staging of The Boys in the Band has proven a highpoint in the theater season.  It’s also an ideal example of how well an immersive approach to theater aids in fully absorbing a captivating story.

The Boys in the Band

Through April 19th, 2020

Windy City Playhouse

3014 Irving Park Rd.

Chicago, IL   60618

windycityplayhouse.com

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