2007-02 Vital Source Mag – February 2007
Paradise
By Russ Bickerstaff As complicated and as brutal as things have been in the West Bank over the years, it seems incredibly mundane to mention that people actually live there. This fact is important though, because without it, none of the bloodshed or brutality that’s gone on over the course of the past several decades makes the slightest bit of sense. Shedding light on the human element of the West Bank conflict, playwright Glyn O’Malley’s controversial Paradise is a very human drama about two girls living on the opposite sides of a river while dealing with the problems that go along with the distance that separates them. Next Act continues its season with a thoughtful production of O’Malley’s very human political drama. Leah Dutchin plays a 17-year-old Palestinian girl named Fatima living in a refugee camp with her family. She’s irrepressibly human in a place that threatens to tarnish that humanity with duty that is bound to history. Dutchin talks with friend and relative Omar (Joseph Fernandez), a boy who dreams of getting out of the West Bank and into a decent college on a soccer scholarship. Her human side comes out in the dialogues with Omar. There is something other than basic humanity in her interactions with a darker figure known as Bassam (Luke Leonhardt). Leaonhardt cuts a particularly memorable performance out of relatively little stage time. When a cell phone goes off in the audience at the opening of the play, it’s his. Placing a character like Bassam in the audience at the beginning of the play is an intriguing way of bringing the reality of the drama into the audience before the story starts. It’s a bit unnerving considering the last conversation he has with Fatima. Bassam instructs Fatima in something chillingly foreign to the minds of most Americans. It’s a simple moment, unclouded as it is by the complexity of human pretense, but Dutchin and Loenhardt fashion fascinating tension out of the simplicity. On the other side of the river, Sarah (Emily Trask) lives with her mother (Mary MacDonald Kerr) in a Jewish Israeli settlement. It’s an entirely different kind of life for Sarah than it is for Fatima, but they both share themes of trying to grow up human in a world shaped by a history that goes back to a time long before either were born. Sarah’s mother has a sense of belonging in the West Bank that Sarah lacks. It’s an interesting interaction between Trask and Kerr. Aside from staged internal monologues, we only ever see Sarah interacting with her mother, which makes for a particularly focused dramatic energy. Trask has a sophisticated stage presence that seems at odds with the youthful inexperience of the character she’s playing here, but measured against someone who has been performing for as long as Kerr, the illusion is complete. For her part, Kerr shows the kind of textured performance that has made her such a pleasant and entertaining addition to Milwaukee stages for the past 11 […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Everything for everybody
By Vital Staff Let’s face it; this is the time of year when most peoples’ energy ebbs low while commitments proceed at their regularly-scheduled breakneck speed. There was that mental break from the day-to-day world over the holidays (often taking the form of surreal flashes of family, food and lots of driving), immediately followed by a fiery re-entry to work and school life. Yuck. Just thinking about it makes you want to crawl under the covers and not come out until spring. Sadly, that’s not an option for most of us, and if we’re truthful few of us could stay buried for very long before we got real twitchy from lack of stimulus. So what’s a hard-working person to do? We at VITAL decided to hit the road for a weekend, with the following guidelines: must be within reasonable driving distance, yet far enough away so that you won’t run back home for a forgotten item; must be comfortable and, above all, must be a place where you can hear yourself think. Even breathe. Six of us went out and six came back with stories to tell about… mostly nothing, unless relaxation still counts for something in this crazy world. We recommend you try it soon. The Whistling Swan 4192 Main Stret, Door County 920-868-3442 www.whistlingswan.com September 2001 was the last time I took a vacation from work. I had almost forgotten how it feels not to work for a couple of days; to take a break from the daily drudgery. Having too long ignored a need for at least a break from it all, I ventured off to Fish Creek in Door County for a weekend. After a peaceful two and a half hour drive I arrived at The Whistling Swan Inn, Door Peninsula’s oldest operating inn, on a balmy Saturday afternoon. Interesting historic footnote: this beautiful late 19th century Victorian inn was moved across frozen Green Bay in 1907 to its current location. Fish Creek is small, its main stretch spanning roughly seven by three city blocks and housing small shops, galleries, bar and grills, inns and the very well-known Potters Wheel pottery workshop. If you are a people person and love summer activities, Door County, with its small resort towns and abundance of hiking, boating, shopping and dining, is the place to come in warm weather months. Rates won’t be as pocket-friendly but are worth every penny. October’s also a very busy month, with many fall festivals to suit every fancy. This winter, due to virtually no snow and the subsequent absence of winter activities, the area has experienced a decline in tourism. This, however, benefits those who prefer solitude and more reasonable lodging rates. I took off on foot to explore this little town’s offerings. I landed at a local pub to enjoy a nice glass of good scotch and engage in the great activity of people watching. I found a mix of locals and outside visitors, with conversations varying from local gossip to tourists planning […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Lucky Tomaszek
Hat Trick – Third time’s a charm for Al and Susie Brkich
By Catherine McGarry Miller + Photos by Kevin C. Groen Cranky Al’s Bakery, Coffee & Pizza 6901 W. North Avenue 414-258-5282 Hey, Mikey, I got your pizza ready,” Cranky Al Brkich hails a customer. “I only dropped it twice!” Mikey shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “That’s better ‘n last time.” There’s a round of giggles from patrons steaming up the windows at Cranky Al’s this winter night with animated conversations over pizzas and garlic bread. I’m not one to go around outing people, but the truth is Cranky Al is a phony. He’s about as cranky as Rachel Ray accepting applause for yet another miracle recipe. A small warning sign on the door hints at Al’s true nature. It reads, “All unattended children will be given two shots of espresso and a free puppy.” Al is loath to admit it, but “cranky” actually references the hand-cranked donuts he turns out every morning for lines of neighborhood enthusiasts. For owners Susie and Al Brkich, this bakery and pizzeria is a hat trick. They’ve had two other successful eateries. The first was Crabby Al’s, a seafood shack that lit up the dark skies of the Menomonee Valley and then tumbled into a dissolved partnership. Second was Mrs. Java and Company, just four doors down from the new Cranky Al’s, which died last year when the building was sold to another restaurateur who wanted the space for a bistro. The news was sudden and devastating to the couple, who had hoped to buy the building themselves. “We didn’t know if our customers would come back,” Susie says with her chin crumbling and eyes moist with deep appreciation for the support of the community. It took the Brkichs the better part of a year – and every penny of their resources – to relocate, gut the property and install a kitchen in two storefronts that had formerly housed a used auto parts and a vacuum cleaner store. It was a stressful time for the Brkichs, not knowing if their new enterprise would fly. But just a few months into it, this place has all the signs of being yet another success for the hard-working restaurateurs. High windows fill the spacious room with light, the dark woodwork, molded ceilings and pews from Pius X Church – which serve as bench seating – all lend an air of comfortable charm, as do the smells of fresh-brewed coffee and handmade donuts and pastries. This, as everything in their lives, is a joint venture. After two decades of marriage, Al and Susie are still thick as thieves. Al insisted that Susie be there for our interview and every time Al got up during our chat to attend to the business, Susie gushed about him. For their opening in December, she bought him his first chef’s coat. “Same old Cranky with a new coat on,” he boasts. “That’s right, kid, I’m fancy now.” Al, who grew up near State Fair Park and attended Solomon Juneau High School, met Chicago […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Cate Miller
The Early Years
Already in play to sell Nike shoes, the single “All Ones & Zeros” gets The Early Years’ debut out of the blocks at lightning speed; but it’s false advertising for the record as a whole. Although the intro song is a propelling dash, what follows lacks similar kinetic force. Intentionally. This three-piece, comprised of a drummer and pedal-happy guitar duo, adamantly refuse to chase after the skinny-tie, post-punk revivalist trend. Instead of worshipping Gang of Four, the self-proclaimed “experimental” band cite Neu!, Television and Mogwai as influences. If experimental means ambience, feedback and droning, and the preceding bands were reputably boring and uninventive, then these guys are spot on. The Early Years sound more confident when they aren’t trying so hard. The majority of songs, including the utterly beige “Brown Hearts,” are like a game of hot/cold (getting warmer…even warmer… ). The musicians find direction as the tracks count down, leaving questions as to how much improvisation they employed while recording. Likewise, the last two and a half minutes of “High Times And Low Lives” show potential and should have been the project’s starting line. Here, parts move – the darling avant-garde electronics live rightfully among the twangy guitar and incisive percussion. Regrettably, the disc’s closers, though pretty, deflate any remaining hope of resurrecting the buzz. The Early Years live up to their name; they play a diluted imitation of art rock’s early years, contributing little more than better technology. They’re on the heels of something good, but until their sophomore release, why buy a knock-off when you can just as easily listen to the real thing? VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
The Shins
The advent of the Shins’ latest sees them with not an entirely clean bill of health. They’ve paled from the short-term convalescence that the indie film and television world has bled them into. Yet they’ve somehow grown a muscular sonic extroversion from this bloodletting, while still managing to leave their lyrical core of persistent pathos intact. James Mercer’s sweet tenor will never quite echo the nerviness of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith, but it’s more of a “hell yeah” than an “oh, hell.” “Sleeping Lessons” is a fantastic kickoff, much in the way “Kissing the Lipless” was for Chutes too Narrow. Creeping in quietly, it assaults the unsuspecting listener’s ears with the volume cranked up to catch the Lewis Carroll references, blasting a train-chugging bass and a quick-click drumbeat with upswept, Beach Boy vocals. “Phantom Limb” catches the band at their wistful best, creating an atmosphere of ‘60s jangle-pop with an ‘80s bass line often associated with teen films, and a plotline to match. To hear Mercer sing the oh-wah-oh chorus is swoonable. The album is sonically variant starting with “Phantom Limb;” that track, “Sea Legs” and “Turn On Me” are all illuminating. The best surprise is “Sea Legs.” Containing a prominent Beck-ish bass line, flute and lounge piano chords, it features a smokier-voiced Mercer. “Red Rabbits” is another variation, but simple innovation and keyboardist Marty Crandall’s keyboard noodling is not enough to create a decent song. Wincing amps the listener up first with its familiarity, then further with a swing into the new, but fails to push through at the end. It’s promising, but The Shins are apparently still in that awkward stage; they still have plenty of room to grow. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Your last/next month
By Matt Wild Your last month has been rife with unexpected changes, moments of self-loathing and at least one severe car accident. The New Year – still so new! – has left you reeling. It would be easy, therefore, for us to look back and catalog your last month, to dredge up and analyze its highs and its lows. But let’s be honest; the past is for suckers. Instead, let’s pretend your last month is your next month; let’s rewind the Cassingle? of your life all the way back to the first yawning minutes of 2007. There you are – bleary-eyed, drunk and hopeful – kissing the strange/familiar boy/girl next to you, blissfully unaware of what will happen over the course of the next 31 days. This, in fact, is what will happen: You will make a trek back to your hometown to spend time with your family. You will go bowling, smoke some shitty cigarettes and drink an alarming amount of alcohol. One night – while rocking out to William Shatner’s version of “Common People” – you also manage to rear-end another driver, nearly totaling your girlfriend’s car. In the ensuing 48 hours, you will learn a series of valuable lessons: 1). Never give a fake name, number and address to the 17-year-old girl you just hit. 2). Never assume, in a town of barely 5,000 people, that the cops won’t somehow track you down and impound your car at 5 in the morning. 3). Never drive a vehicle off a tow lot – even if it’s your own – without politely asking first. By the end of the weekend you will become small town gossip fodder and rack up nearly $3,000 in damages and fines. Nevertheless, you’re thankful no one was hurt and that your arresting officer graduated high school with your younger brother. Back in Milwaukee, you will decide to keep your nose clean and your head down, your chin turned away in anticipation of the next blow. You will attend any number of dreadful events: hipster dance parties, adult spelling bees, trivia nights. You will make a vow to forever avoid any event prefaced by the word “adult” (kickball, dodge ball, lawn darts). You will start taking more cab rides and keep feeling bad about your girlfriend’s car. Your long-time East Side neighborhood continues down the fast track to becoming a condo-littered strip mall, leaving you bitter and disenchanted. You fall out of love with your city and consider hopping on the “We’re moving to Portland!” bandwagon popularized by that one Dead Milkmen song. You will go out and see some rock shows (the excellent Candliers prove to be a revelation), smoke some shitty cigarettes and drink an alarming amount of alcohol. In spite of all this (or perhaps because of this), you feel bad for yourself a great deal, and often contemplate running yourself through with a 10-inch railroad spike. A concerned friend will eventually calm you down and tell you that trying to off […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Liberty and injustice for all
By Cole J. White If there is ever to be equality in this country, surely it must begin in our courts of law. If we are to believe all men are created equal, then shouldn’t they be judged equally as well? –Thurgood Marshall It has been 43 years since the passage of the Civil Rights Amendment, and still we have crushing poverty, humiliating discrimination, demoralizing racism and a legal system that sees color as an indictable offense. Every night on the news, we hear about another “brown” person committing another crime, another arrest, another conviction, another… another… another. Why? Because the civil rights movement of the 1960s didn’t create a utopian melting pot, where justice is even-handed and equality is equal. Because, in America, if you’re black you have a greater than 1 in 4 chance of going to prison; you have a higher likelihood of being the victim of violence (sometimes, believe it or not, at the hands of the police) and nearly a 40 percent probability that you will live your entire life in poverty. The sheer lack of options makes an “average American life” little more than a fairytale for many “urban” kids. For them, slangin’ and gangin’ have become a means of survival, of pride, of identity. This puts many of these at-risk children on a disastrous collision course with a criminal justice system that has been co-opted by legislative hypocrisy and duplicative agenda-setting. Retired judge Phillip Seymour said, “Playing politics with the law is a dangerous, dangerous thing to do. And every time I hear a politician talk about getting tough on crime, I know someone’s getting screwed.” The class-A rodgering begins with the draconian Mandatory Minimum Sentencing (MMS) guidelines. Trickle-down sentencing Ostensibly, mandatory minimum sentences were designed to target “kingpins” and high-level dealers – a trickle-down drug policy. But these laws almost never nab kingpins. More times than not, addicts and – worse still – innocent people are the ones who wind up in prison. And those people are mostly black. Why? Because mandatory minimums disproportionately target minorities, a claim substantiated by the FBI, which reports that 60 percent of those prosecuted (and convicted) for drug crimes are black; while most drug users – some 74 percent – are white. Intentional or not, these laws are racist. The racial divide is highlighted by the crack and powder cocaine guidelines. A majority of crack users are black. A majority of powder cocaine users are white. Five grams of crack will get you five years. It takes 100 times as much – 500 grams of powder cocaine – for a five-year sentence, effectively creating a generation of young black men who will spend the rest of their lives on the wrong side of the law. Despite the obvious problems with sentencing laws and the objections of the legal and civil rights communities, some members of Congress, like Rep. James Sensenbrenner of Wisconsin, have fought to make mandatory minimums even more stringent – all to appear “tough […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Frozen
By Jill Gilmer A series of asymmetrical screens line the back wall of the set of Frozen. During the play, the screens project rays of blue and gray light, appropriate hues for this dark and disturbing story. But as the cast takes its bow, the screens change to a collection of light and dark still photos surrounding the single image that is in focus: a vibrant amber sunrise. Audience members who quickly exit the theatre may miss this visual synopsis of the play’s underlying theme; forgiveness causes dark experiences to fade into the light and offers the promise of hope. The light display also mirrored the journey of characters Nancy and Ralph. Set in modern day England, Frozen follows the lives of Nancy, Ralph and Agnetha over 25 years. Nancy is an angry and grief-stricken mother whose 10-year-old daughter was sexually abused and killed. Ralph is the flippant inmate convicted of the girl’s murder, and Agnetha is a quirky psychiatrist who chose Ralph as the subject of her research study. In one scene, the audience is cast in the role of students at Agnetha’s lecture on “crimes of evil vs. crimes of illness.” We are asked to consider the evidence supporting the theory that some offenders are biologically incapable of remorse, and are, thus, unforgivable. Ralph appears to be a prime illustration of this theory. Many years after her daughter’s death, Nancy visits Ralph in prison and offers her unsolicited forgiveness. The visit simultaneously leads to a life-changing emotional catharsis for Nancy while setting off a destructive wave of guilt in Ralph. In her interview with Footlights magazine, director Kate Buckley forewarns the audience, “This is not light entertainment.” Frozen explores the cheerful topics of pedophilia, suicide and psychiatric theories about the brains of criminals. It presents images that are shocking and painful. Yet, the brilliance of this play is Buckley’s ability to leave the audience with an unmistakable feeling of hope. The powerful images and topics presented in Frozen appeal more to the intellect than the heart. The characters are introduced through a string of monologs. But it is only when the live action begins that the audience begins to feel a connection with them. Laura Gordon brings a stirring complexity to Agnetha. However, the rest of the cast fails to engage the audience on an emotional level. These “frozen characters” may have been consciously built into Bryony Lavery’s outstanding script. The Broadway production was nominated for four Tony awards in 2004 and the script was a finalist for a Pulitzer Prize. Despite this shortcoming, the play soars in its ability to provoke thought on the origins of morality, the prudence of capital punishment and the limits of forgiveness. The combination of intelligent writing and the subtle spiritual message of forgiveness explain why this is a widely-produced play. Its compelling theme left me speculating whether the tragic turn in Ralph’s life would have been avoided if he had been able to forgive himself. VS Frozen runs through February 18 […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Cortney Tidwell
By Nikki Butgereit Cortney Tidwell’s Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up is an imaginative blend of subtle vocals and electronic sounds that is altogether unexpected from an artist touted for her relationship to the Nashville music scene. Echo effects enhance the delicate, breathy quality of Tidwell’s voice. On the album’s title track, she sounds like vintage Björk, with her combination of quiet enunciation and powerful yodels. Each song is layered with multiple instruments and vocal tracks, which lends an experimental feel to the record. Most songs meander along without verse or chorus, creating an emotional experience rather than something to which you can sing along. “Illegal” is a creative cacophony, with buzzing, whirring and crowd noise alongside keyboard beats and chords. Upbeat synthesizers and stronger vocals on “Missing Link” add another facet to the otherwise down-tempo album. This song is much more frenetic than the others and shows off Tidwell’s underlying versatility. Cortney Tidwell’s music is not pushy or jarring – each track sort of dissolves into the next. Headphones really highlight the intricate craftsmanship – in the car or on a home stereo, the music tends to create a mellow hum, and you can almost forget it’s on, save for the relaxing mood it elicits and the occasional abrupt upswing in volume and tempo. Tidwell has created an enjoyably mellow listening experience built on layers of experimental sound. Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up manages to be low-key and exciting all at once. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
