2007-01 Vital Source Mag – January 2007

Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

By Russ Bickerstaff Pop music master Roger Bean’s work returns to the Stackner Cabaret with another pleasant evening of 60s tunes in Why Do Fools Fall In Love? The man who put together such past favorites as The Marvelous Wonderettes, The Andrews Brothers and Lana Mae’s Honky Tonk Laundry manages his latest foray into the world of the cabaret musical with a bit less flair than he has in the past. Why Do Fools Fall In Love? is, nevertheless, a thoroughly enjoyable evening of cabaret music. Four women meet for a modest bachelorette party at the home of bride-to-be. Through a series of songs about love, the four women learn quite a bit about each other and themselves. Making her Rep debut, Jessica Rush stars as Millie – the young woman set to be married to a dreamy guy who we soon discover isn’t as dreamy as he looks. Her friends include the liberated individualist Sally (Susannah Hall), the overwhelmingly shy Florence (Robin Long) and the overzealous sweet-tooth-suffering Dee-Dee. The personalities are distinct enough and the four actresses do an excellent job in the roles, but Bean hasn’t managed his usual magic with giving the four of them a strong enough plot with which to interact. Rush is called on to play some of the more intricate emotions in the play and holds up quite well. Susannah Hall (who previously played Cindy Lou in Bean’s Winter Wonderettes at the Stackner in 04/05) is similarly charismatic in what proves to be a somewhat complicated role itself. While admittedly very little is going on in the actual story here, it is refreshing to see some of these old-fashioned 60s love songs fashioned into a plot that seems to lead toward the women becoming more liberated by the end of the story. Hall’s character Sally goads Millie in the direction of taking charge of her life, which makes for a reasonably satisfying plot resolution at the end. Scenic design by Vicki R. Davis is distinctively 60s enough to set the mood. Costuming by Alex Tecoma is completely over the top on this one. The costumes are a vivid technicolor vision with amazing blocks of simple, blinding color. As usual, Milwaukee dance guru Sarah Wilbur has mapped out some incredibly fun choreography to accompany the music. The choreography accompanying “I Will Follow Him” features a magic eight-ball and a box of Bugles snacks rather prominently in one of the most visually memorable moments in the entire production. As usual, song choices range from familiar classics to some of the more obscure pop hits of the 60s. The title song, “My Boy Lollipop,” “He’s a Rebel,” “Goin’ Out of My Head” and others join relatively less popular songs like the inexplicably catchy “Gee Whiz” and the surprisingly compelling “Watch Out Sally!” For the most part, the music is an entertaining trip to the 60s with good music performed well. The title song, however, falls a bit flat. The song as recorder by Frankie Lymon and […]

…And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead

…And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead

Listening to the new album from Austin’s …Trail of Dead reminds me of a 1992 quote from Faith No More’s keyboardist Roddy Bottum, regarding their tour mates Guns N’ Roses, who had morphed from a gritty LA sleaze-metal band into a bloated juggernaut: “I’m getting more and more confused about who’s in Guns N’ Roses, and it’s blowing my mind. Onstage now there’s a horn section, two chick backup singers, two keyboard players, an airplane pilot, a basketball coach, a coupla car mechanics…” One gets the same impression from So Divided. Back when TOD was unleashing chaos-rock on 2002’s brilliant Source Tags and Codes, they were lean and mean, but with their recent releases – 2005’s Worlds Apart and now So Divided – the band has chosen to expand their sound through bizarre stylistic shifts and ballooning instrumentation until you’re left wondering what these guys care about more – writing huge, epic songs, or just being huge and epic? “Stand in Silence,” the first proper song on the album, summarizes this frustration. The track opens with a classic TOD riff; the rhythm marches with a staggering, swaying funk backbeat while the vocals call the listener to action. But just as the song is about to take it to the bridge, it skids off the rails into a confusing symphonic second movement that sounds completely removed from the rock & roll book-ending it. The same thing happens to “Naked Sun,” which inexplicably transforms from a bluesy shuffle into more overwrought Tolkien-soundtrack shenanigans. When …Trail of Dead keep it simple, like on the title track, they’re still powerful, but overall So Divided is a mess with a badass rock record buried somewhere inside. VS

The high cost of low maintenance

The high cost of low maintenance

By Jon Anne Willow Dear Readers, I have the good fortune to be in a family situation that most now consider old-fashioned for all of its modern details. My sisters, my best friend and our respective partners have taken up the old standard of extended family and applied it to the structure of our daily lives. My youngest sister and her four year-old son share my house with me. My middle sister and her three children live in the upper of the duplex behind me, with her partner and two dogs in constant attendance. My best friend and her son live in the lower. My boyfriend and his four kids spend weekends with us. My roommate-sister’s boyfriend has custody of his young daughter and takes care of his toddler nephew; they are increasingly often in the mix. Between us, we have five dogs, three cats, four fish and a guinea pig. For those of you keeping score at home, seven adults and twelve children share three bathrooms and three total garage parking spaces, one of which belongs entirely to bicycles and sleds. It’s not for everyone, but it’s perfect for us. With all this closeness, however, comes a sometimes complex and even sensitive communication network. It’s easy to figure out the morning carpool to school; at 8:00 someone makes the first call and by 8:20 the four elementary school kids and at least two moms are in one car and on the way. But it gets complicated in the area of personal sharing and conflict resolution. At work, there are generally structures in place to deal with these things. Business information is given on a “need to know” basis. Conflicts are dealt with through human resources in a best case scenario, or by the more popular means of drama. And no matter how bad a work day is, at the end of it you go away. But what happens to grownups when they have three or four best friends and live with them all? Do you have to share equally with everyone all the time? How do you confront the desire to not be watched, to not feel judged, in an environment where the people you love best are up in your business every waking moment? The late 20th century created the mobile, global society and successfully fractured the practical application of family as people’s social and emotional center. Today, the majority of “family life” outside our own walls is lived through email, phone calls and stressful, architected trips “home” for cornerstone events. Friends, jobs and even homes come and go, becoming memories that never had the chance to settle into our bones before they’re gone. Our parents live in Texas; our best friend is in New York. Our corporate headquarters is in Idaho. We’re spread out in ways perhaps not even suited to human nature. It’s okay to leave a job, spouse, a friend and even family members when we’re uncomfortable and don’t know how to deal with the […]

We are the new year

We are the new year

By Matt Wild “You always seem to have the same problems, month in and month out. It’s like you never fucking learn.” This gem comes courtesy of an honest-to-a-fault friend during a blurred, never-ending round of drinks at Foundation. It’s nostril-freezing cold outside, and while it pains me to admit it, I know she’s right; nearly every one of my past 20 columns for this fine monthly have trod the same emotionally stunted, unemployment-fueled territory. So if you, dear reader, find yourself in agreement with this assessment, I implore you to brace yourself, because as far as repetitive and depressing columns go, this one’s a real doozy. Hate mail from jilted ex-lovers? Check. Half-hearted suicide attempts? Yup. Soppy, self-indulgent final paragraphs bemoaning a misspent, penniless Milwaukee youth? You better believe it. It’s a few weeks later when I find myself grudgingly attending a rock show at – dear God in heaven, help me – Live. It’s not the bands on the bill that give me pause (although all but the excellent Highlonesome will prove to be utterly useless), but instead the familiar list of aforementioned woes: a perpetual lack of money and a recent email from a former female acquaintance detailing my lack of “…conscience, courage, integrity and a spine.” Nevertheless, I’m placing my bets on the dim hope that some live music – along with the possibilities of the impending new year – can pull me through the evening. Tonight’s crowd is a schizophrenic mess, and can be divided up thusly: the kind of folks that currently frequent Live, and the kind of folks that haven’t stepped within a 20 foot radius of the place since it ceased being The Globe. (So long, bastion of all-ages Milwaukee rock; hello, 2-for-1 Jager bombs!) Style-wise, the assembly is equally polarized: button-ups crowding the bar, tattooed lunatics crowding the stage. Up first are The Sensible Pant Suits (Author’s Note: due to the extreme awfulness of the first two acts, I feel it’s only good manners to use aliases; if you care to know the true identities of these bands, contact me courtesy of this publication.) The group peddles in the kind of boring, outdated punk rock dreck that used to dominate the scene before every local band changed their music to boring, outdated “classic” rock. Their set is filled with the typical “Dude, we’re like, totally wasted!” between-song chatter, as well as the always popular “Come up front and dance!” demand that usually signifies barely-disguised desperation, a collective mental handicap or both. Next up is a solo set from Barry Getz, lead singer for local upstarts Let’s Hear It For Remedial English. Getz’s “sound” is hard to nail down, though imagining a 14-year-old boy giving birth while repeatedly picking up and dropping a series of electric-acoustic guitars seems to sum it up quite nicely. The straights seemed pretty miffed at all the racket, however, and a particularly oafish goon soon gets the boot after repeatedly screaming something about all the “dirty punk […]

Why the caged bird sings

Why the caged bird sings

If you had asked me a couple of years ago, I would have thought that “Extraordinary Rendition” was something that Barbra Streisand did at her shows; but the reality is decidedly more grim than a chorus line performance of Yentl. Extraordinary Rendition is, in fact, the name for our governments’ extrajudicial practice of kidnapping, detaining and utilizing third-party nations to torture individuals with “suspected terrorist links,” a practice that is destroying our nation’s moral credibility and eroding the foundations of our Constitution.

My greatest teachers

My greatest teachers

By Lucky Tomaszek I am lying on the couch with one child spooned up against my belly and another lying on my side. We are covered with a blanket and the television is quietly playing in the background. I doze in and out while they watch a movie. Jeffrey, my youngest, whispers, “You’re the best snuggler in the world, Mama. I love you.” I melt into the couch and drift off once again. A very long day The scene above happened the day after I had disappeared for 14 hours to attend an all-night birth. When I came home in the morning, I was exhausted. Fatigue made me achy and cranky. We had a busy day in front of us, with chores and obligations scheduled throughout the afternoon. I had attempted a brief nap in the morning, but had given up when I couldn’t fall asleep easily. My temper was so short the kids kept their distance and waited the day out. I don’t even know how many times I snapped at them as we moved through the afternoon and into the evening. By the time the sun went down, I was frustrated with myself for my behavior toward them. It wasn’t their fault that I was tired, and I knew it. My inner voice was berating me with vigor and I wondered again if my children would only remember these hard days when they looked back as adults. But then, as if by magic, we found ourselves curled up on the couch, passing the evening in peace. The haves and the have-nots of feelings My kids are good. It’s my opinion that almost all kids are good kids, actually, even when they have a hard time holding their behavior together. They come equipped with enormous hearts to give and receive great big love, and with a desire to do so. They also come with all of the other emotions that we have as adults: sadness, anger, frustration, joy, fear and on and on. What they don’t have is the ability to communicate about those feelings. As infants and toddlers, they don’t yet have the words to tell us exactly how they’re feeling. As school-age children and teens, they often don’t have the context to explain it coherently. The fact that the ability to articulate their emotions haven’t developed doesn’t mean that those feelings are any less real or valid than any of ours. When a toddler is jealous enough to bite, when a second grader is angry enough to punch and when a 16 year old is crazy to proclaim true love all over their biology folder – it’s as real as it gets. Behavior needs to be molded, and corrected in many instances, but the emotions are pure. When my own behavior is out of line, like it was many times during the day I described earlier, I apologize to my kids and tell them why I was misbehaving. I don’t do it to excuse myself, but just […]

Rocky Balboa

Rocky Balboa

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Down on the farm with David Swanson

Down on the farm with David Swanson

The doughboy ditty that poses the question, “How you gonna keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?” has a simple answer for Chef David Swanson. It’s where the food is. Swanson has seen and studied in “Paree.” His many culinary credits include a degree from Kendall College in Evanston, Illinois, and employment with renowned chefs Roland Liccioni, Pierre Polin, Don Yamauchi and Sanford D’Amato. Still, his focus is on the farm. He is a slow food activist, basing all his creations on locally-produced, in-season foods. His recipes are parochial in foundation and if a food is not in season, he will not plate it. Swanson is entranced with ingredients, their provenance, their chemistry and their possibilities. An inquisitive child, he pulled apart every toy he ever got to see its base components and how it worked. In the kitchen, he peppered his mother and grandmother with questions. Babysitters were forewarned that it was normal for David to play in the kitchen, stirring up concoctions, not necessarily edible. Fortunately, his curiosity was welcomed and encouraged. It is the basis of everything he does. Swanson’s educational and professional training has imbued him with a deep understanding of and appreciation for classic French cuisine. Starting as a dishwasher at 15, he worked through every station of the kitchen at Le Titi de Paris, Le Français and Sanford – Midwestern restaurants with national reputations. His time in Paris was short but pivotal. Working sessions at Le Cordon Bleu and a stage at local restaurants (working free for the opportunity to learn), he found a food philosophy that matched his own. “In American kitchens, everything revolves around the chef. In France, there is a reverence for the ingredients. Everything starts from that point, and the chef is just a cog in the wheel.” When Swanson came north to work at Sanford, Milwaukee was not even a blip on the culinary map. But he came anyway, and it was a fortuitous move. “Sanford was finishing school for me. Sandy D’Amato is a fabulous chef and I had worked with a lot of great chefs, but didn’t have my own identity. Coming to Sanford I found out who I was as a chef and became comfortable in my own skin.” After six years there, Swanson left to establish his own enterprise: Braise. The traveling cooking school he currently operates is actually phase 3 of a 5-part business plan that includes opening a restaurant in the Greater Milwaukee area. The restaurant was to come first, but Swanson is still engrossed in the complex process of finding a location for his project. He takes his road show to farms, open markets, breweries and local food providers several times a month, with classes that range from $45 to $80 for a multi-course extravaganza. The night after the first big blizzard of 2006, 16 inchoate chefs slogged through foot-deep slush to attend Swanson’s class. At long wooden tables in the kitchen of Wild Flour Bakery, the students purge […]