Arts & Culture
Charles Mingus
*Cornell 1964 was released in July, but we think it’s worth a listen — and Blaine is here to tell you why. Maybe it is no surprise that a spirit as indomitable as Charles Mingus survives 28 years after ALS shuffled his body off this mortal coil. The bassist/bandleader/writer’s legacy has grown in no small part due to efforts by his wife (and former Milwaukeean) Sue Mingus. Her discovery of this recording, much like recently unearthed live sets by John Coltrane and Thelonious Monk, serves as another chance to pull the image in the rear view mirror up close and marvel at the music created by this great band. With three tunes clocking at over fifteen minutes and another pair sprawling into the half-hour range it becomes obvious these musicians are seriously at work. There is no endless noodling, only tight full-band sections, spotlight solos and some great improvising. Clifford Jordan and Eric Dolphy’s horn playing throughout the two discs sounds like a conversation – squeezing out sparks as the ideas ebb and flow. Mingus once wrote a letter to Downbeat Magazine decrying the free jazzers’ new definitions of musicality, but Dolphy and Jordan’s playing makes use of all the bases within Mingus’s nearly Baroque themes and folk-forms with solos just on the edge of squawking and crying, all held down by the ESP rhythm section of Mingus’s bass and longtime campadre Dannie Richmond’s drumming. Cornell’s version of Mingus’s “Fables of Faubus” would be a great place for any new listener to dive in and the group’s arrangement of Duke Ellington/Billy Strayhorn’s “Take the “A” Train” offers a look at Mingus’s fearlessness and reverence in dealing with a mentor. It is obvious just how much joy these musicians have with these tunes. Shortly after this gig the band toured Europe; Dolphy died at age 36 due to complications from diabetes. As a frozen moment, this recording is more than document. It is a new highlight in the Mingus discography.
Sep 24th, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Life Could Be a Dream
Californian cabaret guru Roger Bean opens the next in a growing number of original musicals at the Rep’s Stackner Cabaret. The same man who brought Milwaukee The Marvelous Wonderettes, The Andrews Brothers and Lana Mae’s Honky Tonk Laundrydebuts his latest, Life Could Be A Dream. Though it’s not quite as accomplished as previous revues, Life is a fun look back at the 1960s doo-wop experience. When a local radio station announces a contest to find the next big musical sensation, Denny (New Yorker Ben Cherry, who last appeared with The Rep in The Andrews Brothers) decides to put together an act in hopes of winning the hot rod of his dreams. With his awkward choir-boy friend Eugene (Richard Israel in his Rep debut), he forms a doo-wop group – complete with choreography – and the opening song is a shaky rendition of the title song by the pair. The group grows to include Piggly Wiggly clerk Wally (Justin Robertson) and auto mechanic Skip (Carlos Martin), and together the friends polish, mature, and struggle as they all become infatuated with the same girl. The show closes with a medley featuring the entire group in a much more sophisticated version of the title song. It can be tricky to do show such progress convincingly, but under the direction of Bean and chorographer Pam Kriger, the cast gives an excellent performance. The only woman in the cast – Julia Graham as Lois – provides much of the conflict within the fledgling doo-wop group. In a particularly smart bit of musical arrangement , each of the guys expresses his feelings for her in a medley featuring “Devil or Angel,” “Earth Angel” and “Only You.” Ben Cherry is inherently likeable as Denny, but he hasn’t been given much more to do than be nice and try to organize things. Some of the best lines are Justin Robertson’s as Wally in an entertaining comic role. But there aren’t as many laughs as there have been in previous Bean shows – and Bean has done the “nice, quirky people thrust into a spotlight” thing before in a number of his revues, so the story feels a little dull. Everything holds together pretty well in Life Could Be A Dream, but without the novel spark of comic wit so characteristic of Bean, it simply isn’t a clever as his previous work. VS The Milwaukee Rep’s Production of Life Could Be A Dream runs through November 4 at the Stackner Cabaret. Tickets can be purchased in advance by calling 414-224-9490 or online at www.milwaukeerep.com
Sep 21st, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
Hana’s Suitcase
“Stories can die if there is no one to tell them.” The line from Hana’s Suitcase, the First Stage Children’s Theater 2007 opening production, is revelatory. The story is the life of a 13-year-old Jewish girl and her family; the play tackles the drama and the difficulty inherent in preserving such tragic narratives. Hana’s Suitcase deals with hard questions about the Holocaust – specifically, how to present to young people the challenging fact that one and a half million children died. At the Tokyo Holocaust Education Center, inquisitive students Maiko (Pahoua Vang) and Akira (Touly Vang) begin a search for the mysterious story surrounding Hana Brady and her suitcase, found at a concentration camp after World War II. As their teacher Fumiko Ishioko transforms questions into answers, they discover that Hana’s brother, George, survived the camps and lives in Canada. And while Hana’s story ends at Auschwitz, George’s story reminds Maiko and Akira that the lives destroyed prejudice, hate and war in the past continue to hold meaning in the present. Based on a true story and a book by Karen Levine, the play was adapted by Emil Sher. The first half of the performance revolves slowly around scenic designer David Minkoff’s imaginative backdrop of bookcases, while throughout the entire play, costume designer Rick Rasmussen effectively uses dark masked figures to illustrate the dreadful days in the camps. As they move silently through the set with bright, blonde Hana, they provide subtle references to the underlying gravity of her circumstances. The action in second half of the play accelerates as the story of the Brady family and their eventual transfer to the concentration camps unfolds. During the talkback, the cast members discuss how performing this play releases emotions. Tears are often shed behind the scenes as orphans George and Hana are split at the camps and Hana’s suitcase is left standing on a train platform. But Fumiko tells the children, “The story may leave us terribly sad, but then we must find our way out of the sadness.” The serious subject matter in Hana’s Suitcase presents opportunities to discuss not only a great tragedy of the 20th Century, but disaster and death as well. Delicately handled, the sadness is dispersed as George reminds Maiko, Akira, and Famiko the love that lasts in his heart will find a way to theirs. Maiko and Akira finally title this love “small wings” as they plan a newsletter to remind others of these horrific events. These small, seemingly significant stories need retelling, including those children’s voices remaining silent or unheard, especially the children who died in the Holocaust. Ultimately this First Stage production belongs to Hana Brady, giving an important voice to all children, past and present, on stage and off. Hana’s Suitcase was left alone and behind but contained remnants of her soul, her story, that survives clear and strong. VS First Stage Children’s Theater presents Hana’s Suitcase through October 7 at Todd Wehr Theater, Marcus Center for the Performing Arts. For ticket […]
Sep 21st, 2007 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
The Book of Liz
The Boulevard Ensemble Theatre presents the Milwaukee premiere of David and Amy Sedaris’s The Book of Liz without the cartoonish costumes, ludicrously artificial sets and other stunts that had New York reviewers raving about the Sedaris’s own production in 2001. By stripping away all of the visuals, director Mark Bucher was able to tackle this cinematic, scene-change-ridden comedy with little or no budget. Bucher’s decision to narrate the action might have been a viable or even bold approach to this technically challenging play if the narration had been funny and stylistically consistent with the script. Unfortunately, it was neither. Instead, Bucher worked against the script, inundating this idiosyncratic play with tired gags and clichés. Thanks to a talented cast, much of the humor of the script managed to shine through. Beth Monhollen played the title character wonderfully straight, navigating bizarre situations (from a religious sect devoted to cheese ball production to a pilgrim-themed restaurant staffed almost entirely with recovering alcoholics) in a simple, genuine performance that proved to be the funniest aspect of the show. The rest of the cast also hit some moments perfectly, especially David Oplinger, Ruth Boulet and Kathleen Williams, but their performances lacked consistency. My personal experiences at the Boulevard have been mixed. They’ve produced many excellent plays, often by playwrights that don’t get much attention elsewhere in the city, but occasionally their productions slide into the kind of amateurish goofing off that almost sank this one. VS The Boulevard Theatre’s production of The Book of Liz continues through September 30. 414-744-557 or www.boulevardtheatre.com for more info.
Sep 18th, 2007 by R. Winsome
2 Henry IV
Milwaukee Shakespeare continues its multi-season presentation of the Henriad with part two of Henry the Fourth. The production, which cleverly fills the space of the Broadway Theatre Center’s Studio Theatre, continues the saga of yet another doomed king on his way out of office. The doomed king in question is the title character as played by Angela Iannone. Thin, sinewy Iannone is a clever casting choice on the part of Milwaukee Shakespeare. Iannone, who has a long history in local theatre, casts the role in a faintly otherworldly light as she makes contact with the character of Henry IV through an almost saturnine stage presence. The king is frail and will die soon — this much is clear in a profoundly visual way before any lines are spoken. The stage is set up much the same way as it was for the 1 Henry IV last year. The audience flanks the stage with half of them facing the other half through the flurry of drama onstage. This season’s set elevates two of the four entrances at a diagonal to each other, providing a dramatic edge to the flow of action onstage. Everything feels pleasantly out of balance as the events of the play tumble across the stage. Even the cast feels a bit uneven, albeit affably. This year’s Prince Henry is played by last year’s Hotspur. This year’s Earl of Westmoreland is played by last year’s Gadshill. This year’s Bardolph is played by … last year’s Bardolph. And Michel Pocaro returns for another year in the role of Henry Percy. Jake Russo is every bit as comic in the role as he was last year. Pocaro’s continued exploration of Percy’s personality has been interesting to watch since he first walked onstage in the role as part of Milwaukee Shakespeare’s production of Richard II at the end of the 2005 – 2006 season. Standout performances by those new to Milwaukee Shakes’ Henriad include a deft Bo Johnson in the role of Lord Mowbray, a fiery DeRante Parker as the Earl of Mowbray and a weighty performance by Bob Adrian as the Archbishop of York. Kevin C. Loomis plays this year’s Falstaff admirably, with all the requisite depth and darkness the character acquires from the first to second part of the series, but he’s playing that role in the shadow of Ricard Ziman’s magnetic performance in the role last year. Loomis stands out in a number of scenes, but his performance here lacks some of the clever nuance Ziman had managed in the same role last year. Brian J. Gill brings Prince Henry to the stage with precisely the kind of charisma that is so important to the role. With everything as intriguingly off-balance as it is, the ending feels remarkably out of synch with everything that has happened in the series so far. The crown peacefully passes from the withered king as all others look on gravely. And there at the center of it all is Gill — the nice guy […]
Sep 11th, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
Cyrano de Bergerac
The panache of Cyrano De Bergerac resonated throughout the Quadracci Powerhouse Theatre at The Rep on opening weekend. Cyrano’s indomitable soul overcomes unsightly features through his unabashed ability to love, conquering both the stage and the audience to begin the 2007 season. Directed by Sanford Robbins from the nationally renowned Professional Theater Training Program (PTTP) in Delaware, which originated at UWM, Cyrano is a tour de force for graduates of the program. Lee Ernst, who studied under Robbins, creates a believable and honorable Cyrano, wholehearted in his unrequited love for his distant cousin, Roxanne. Whether reciting poetic refrains while dueling swords or under the moonlight to Roxanne, Ernst delivers an exceptional persona true to playwright Edmond Rostand’s panache. Add the fight choreography developed by Ernst for the production and the audience begins to understand the complete package this resident Rep actor brings to the theater. Two other graduates of the PTTP include Erin Partin debuting as Roxanne and Andre Martin performing as Christian de Neuvillette. Both light the stage, as lovers and actors, especially Partin as she imbues Roxanne with comely dignity. Torrey Hanson as Rageneau the pastry chef, another PTTP actor, adds comic delight with his patisserie poetry. And a recent performer from the same program, Benjamin Reigal – Ernst’s son – is sure to follow in his father’s footlights as both actor and fight captain. But this Cyrano uses the polish of the PTTP in combination with the superb costume design of Matthew J. LeFebvre who adorns the characters with every ruffle of romance. Lace, bows, tassels and tulle, with wonderfully imaginative shoes, addresses the play’s theatricality. Overhead “the lamps are lit” when two chandeliers rise above the beautifully dressed actors to begin the performance. Linda Buchanan’s scenic design, adaptable and appropriately restrained, allows the candlelight to illuminate the words and performances, particularly in scene three under full moonshine. However, the romantic soul of the story, that Cyrano’s love must go unspoken because of a long and protruding nose, a supposedly ugly presence, is timeless in its telling. In a society requiring more physical perfection than ever before, amid the constant picture of youth, Cyrano De Bergerac reminds us that beauty is window dressing. It is in the depths of spirit, wit, and wisdom, behind those curtains, where love resides. Speaking of heartbreaking tragedy beneath the comedy in the final act, Roxanne says, “I have lost my love twice.” The audience understands the double disappointment of love misplaced and squandered, but also the broken belief that outside appearances are of more value than inner character and integrity. Robbins and Ernst, with the large supporting cast of The Rep, produce three hours of theater demonstrating extraordinary romantic panache. Continuing until October 7, Cyrano De Bergerac, with a soul continually worth revisiting, offers a tragic lesson under the guise of laughter in love and life. VS The Rep presents Cyrano De Bergerac in the Powerhouse Quadrucci Theater at the Repertory Theater on East Wells. For information: 414.224. 9490 or www.milwaukeerep.com.
Sep 11th, 2007 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
The Night of the Iguana
American Players Theatre The American Players Theatre delves into a mid-twentieth century script with its production of Tennessee Williams’ Night Of The Iguana. It’s an interesting choice in material for one of the APT’s few dips into the recent past. While it is true that Williams is widely recognized as one of the greatest playwrights of the twentieth century, The Night Of The Iguana is scarcely as acclaimed as other Williams classics like The Glass Menagerie and A Streetcar Named Desire. (When the play debuted on Broadway in 1961, it received mixed reviews.) That said, The Night of The Iguana is far more entertaining than Williams’ more turgidly acclaimed works. It mixes particularly effective humor with a sense of drama that manages an abstract allegorical nature while still feeling quite natural. The APT production stars the multi-talented Jim DeVita as Reverend Shannon—a defrocked minister who, in his new occupation as tour guide, is leading a church group on a vacation tour through Mexico during World War II. DeVita does an excellent job here, but the character is nowhere near as interesting as the plot he’s a part of. Shannon guides his group to a hotel run by an old friend of his by the name of Maxine. Maxine (Tracy Michelle Arnold) takes the tour group in, certain that Shannon is still the wild party animal he always was—even as he claims to have reformed, cleaned up, and curbed the alcohol consumption. Arnold is very seductive here, possessing a smart, tough kind of allure that serves the character well. The rapport between DeVita and Arnold makes for some of the best moments in the play. The seduction of Shannon is complicated when a virginal young artist named Hannah (Colleen Madden) arrives at the hotel with her aging father (Robert Spencer.) It quickly becomes apparent that father and daughter have no money to pay for their accommodations and must attempt to sell his poetry and her paintings to keep their rooms. Madden is interesting here, but the character doesn’t provide her the kind of challenge she would need to turn out a really great performance. And it’s always great to see Spencer playing the lovable older guy (like he did most recently in the Rep’s production of Tuesdays With Morrie last year). It’s still a bit difficult to see him play such a simple character after his much more recent turn as a sophisticated Russian politico in Milwaukee Chamber’s production of A Walk In The Woods. In absence of any really amazing individual performances, the play comes across as a solid, entertaining ensemble piece. Talented actors squeeze themselves into roles that aren’t quite as good as they are, making for a stage dynamic that never quite manages to get boring. The script is bizarrely uneven in places, making for fascinating friction that seems to have no direct link to the central theme of temptation in a paradise that may be imprisonment. (Showing inexplicable storytelling instincts, Williams throws in a group of vacationing […]
Sep 7th, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
Timon of Athens
Regarded by many scholars as an unfinished, perhaps experimental piece that may not have been entirely written by Shakespeare, Timon of Athens has great potential to be staged in an offbeat style. American Players Theatre in Spring Green has brilliantly realized this potential in what is by far its most accomplished production this season. This year, the APT has fallen a bit short of its usual standards. Timon of Athens goes a long way towards making up for any shortcomings it may have presented in its 2007 season. Aside from a decidedly modern-looking set, the audience’s first indication of the setting shows up in the usual “turn off your cell phones” announcement, cleverly delivered here as a polite notice from one of the title character’s servants. As the audience, we are all greeted as guests of Timon and encouraged to enjoy ourselves. When characters begin to filter onstage, the overall feeling is that of a posh, contemporary dinner party. All the guests are dressed in white except the Painter and the Poet, who reflexively dress in a classy, reflexively nonconformist black. The Painter (Matt Schwader) carries a tiny black leather portfolio. The Poet (Michael Gotch) carries around a black portfolio of his own that holds a disheveled stack of papers. Gotch and Schwader are brilliantly subtle here, delicately playing the part of pretentiously successful contemporary art-world hipsters – the kind you see nervously shuffling about the Third Ward on gallery night. Eventually, of course, the title character shows up in the form of a jovial Brian Mani. Mani has a very robust presence in the role, lending an earthy believability to the overwhelming generosity that is Timon’s tragic flaw. Just as Timon’s guests sit to eat at the banquet of his wealth, in walks Jonathan Soots in the role of true individualist Apemantus — a philosopher. There’s not a whole lot of money in philosophy, so Apemantus has little regard for it; he snacks idly on a carrot, acting as an upstage critic to the pretentious proceedings at center stage. With a presence and comportment vaguely reminiscent of a contemporary Mark Twain, Smoots puts in a pleasantly detached performance as he warns of the treachery of bought friendship. Of course, this being Shakespearian tragedy, Apemantus’s concerns turn out to be valid, and before long, Timon loses all the wealth he ever had. We catch up with him after the intermission on a set that is a dark aberration of the finely appointed atmosphere that started the play. A rusted-over wheelchair tilts in one corer of the stage. Empty cans litter the stage with other detritus. Mani plays the generous Timon now as a surly, soiled misanthrope with a fabulously twisted sense of humor. Inevitably, Timon happens upon a stash of bills – more accursed money, which brings on all those people he never wanted to have to deal with again. The Poet and the Painter show up right away, appearing first offstage, rustling through the foliage around the outdoor theatre. […]
Sep 7th, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
17 Hippies and Dobert Gnahore
By Blaine Schultz Dobert Gnahore Na Afriki Cumbancha There is a pulsating sense of energy just beneath the surface of Dobert Gnahore’s music. Her fluid vocals are gently propelled by musicians led by acoustic guitarist Colin Laroche de Feline. With roots in Africa’s Ivory Coast, it is no surprise that the English translations for Gnahore’s songs tackle some heavy issues – dipping into gender politics, economics and war. A percolating battery of percussionists and vocalists adds up to some intriguing music with a message in any language. Appearing Sunday 5:30 p.m. Global Union festival at Humboldt Park 17 Hippies Heimlich Hipster Records The title cut of 17 Hippies Heimlich “tells what happens when a strong feeling should be kept a secret, so as to keep that feeling alive and strong; whereas blaring it out would destroy it.” But there is nothing secretive about this tribe. While many kids went techno when the Berlin Wall fell these folks went the other route picking up ukulele, dulcimer, violins, accordion and various horns to form this moveable feast. Alternately rollicking and melancholy, they pick and choose influences from Morocco, Romania, France and Germany. This rag-tag bunch is hard to peg unless Cajun-Balkan-Indian is a new genre. One of the members even dated the Velvet Underground’s Nico. Appearing Saturday 1 p.m. Global Union festival at Humboldt Park
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Ministry
Al Jourgenson isn’t about to be considered a politically-charged wordsmith on par with Bob Dylan. Still, this hasn’t stopped him from developing an antipathetic and personal relationship with Bush, Cheney and the Holy War on Terror. Starting with 2004’s Houses of the Mole, followed by 2006’s Rio Grande Blood, the Unholy Trinity concludes with The Last Sucker, a venom-drenched and decidedly non-poetic screed against the Decider and his entourage. Anyone who remembers Ministry’s brutal indictment of Bush Sr., Psalm 69’s “N.W.O.,” is as familiar with The Last Sucker’s formula as is needed. Song after song delivers the same jackhammer drum programming and machine-gun riffage that Ministry’s produced for years, delivered with pit-bull vocals and samples of government icons hypnotically chanting sound-bite mantras. Al doesn’t mince words – lyrics like “I got twins and a Stepford wife/I never had to work a day in my life” don’t leave room for interpretation. But where the Ministry of the Bush 41 era sounded fresh in its rage, the Bush 43 edition has gone stale. The repetitive, stock 16-note chug hammers the brain into a numb paste, perhaps so the listener understands how Jourgenson’s head felt after poring through hours and hours of Bush/Cheney sound bites. Maybe then we won’t notice how cliché it is to name a song about the Veep “The Dick Song,” to say nothing about spending six minutes coming up with new ways to say “Dick Cheney/Son of Satan.” The Last Sucker is Ministry’s final recording, allowing Jourgenson to ride off into the sunset along with lame duck Dubya. Judging by the content of this release (including a baffling cover of the Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues” ), it’s possible that, like Bush the Second, his exit is about eight years too late.
Sep 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Heavy Trash
In Heavy Trash’s latest adventure (which picks up from their last release in 2005), there’s more riff-burning, pompadour-bobbing and gum-smacking than you can shake a fried chicken leg at. Bringing back the days of curvy cars, pinup ladies and smoking without borders, Jon Spencer (Blues Explosion) and Matt Verta-Ray’s (Pussy Galore) “Heavy Trash” moniker is definitely cheeky. Think Chris Isaak gone bad – pretty, blue-eyed boy soul with a sharp, ugly edge. Heavy Trash’s self-titled debut was a welcome addition to Jon Spencer fanatics’ collections. Going Way Out With Heavy Trash stacks up to their first release and even delves into a more fleshed-out, swinging sound. Rolling into the first track, “Pure Gold” hits like a cyclone in Tornado Alley, Spencer channeling Presley more convincingly than many white-caped King wannabes. Strutting like a rooster through a dusty coop of hens, Spencer lolls into the pretty garage n’soul of “Outside Chance,” then greases it up in “Double Line,” pairing up gritty guitar solos, sticks tapping short, short, short as if on a hot tin roof, along with brass-balls bass lines whose rough and ready tones are reminiscent of the infamous relationship between The Sharks and The Jets in West Side Story. Going Way Out With Heavy Trash is a hot little album, full of swagger and strut. The only truly campy departure is “You Can’t Win,” which thankfully comes at the album’s close, with Spencer drawling about “Pepsi-Cola, Doritos and beans” and being “drunk on pomade.” This doesn’t play nicely with the rest of the album. Still, Heavy Trash has turned out another call to all rebel rousers, one which will satiate those with a hankering for some straight-up rockabilly flavor.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Carolyn Mark
Victoria, B.C.’s most acclaimed Party Girl, Terrible Hostess and less lime-lighted half of the Corn Sisters, Carolyn Mark has removed the training wheels of collaboration (her last release was strictly duets) and is again riding solo. Nothing Is Free, whose liner notes devote the disc to “all the Cowboys, Vampires, Pirates, Poets, Scarecrows and Enablers,” is a reflection of the Can-country minx’s adorably kooky “Point o’ View.” In Mark’s universe, hopes are kept “where we can see ‘em,” those without investments can justify spending “thousands of dollars/keeping Friday alive” and aver that “it’s easier to love an idea/than it is a man.” Equally endearing are Mark’s auctioneer vocals on “1 Thing” and “Get Along,” tracks that could easily be caroused to under a state fair beer tent. Not to be pigeonholed to a do-se-do, Mark’s sound flutters from sunny surf rock (“Happy 2B Flying Away” ) to spacey daydream (“Destination: You” ) , pollinated by her husky Natalie Merchant purr and lyrics that pack a Loretta Lynn punch. “Poisoned With Hope” is uncharacteristically bulky and grating, but pardonable given Mark’s unmatched whimsy and otherwise fluid execution. Folksy, nobody’s-fool showstopper “The 1 That Got Away (With It ) ” will most likely earn the attention of femme rags like Venus and Bust, but until she flags down a more mainstream demographic, Mark will continue her notoriety as “the other Corn Sister.” If her liner tribute to the freaks and underdogs is any indication, though, she won’t be shooting off flares any time soon.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
