2008
My Morning Jacket
For all intents and (media) purposes, My Morning Jacket is at the crucial fulcrum of their career. Thanks to a catalog consistent in its evolution, they have cred galore (from the critics to the punters) and are revered as one of the best live acts today. So it’s crucial that Evil Urges, their fifth studio full-length, is the one that cements their status as a true American musical treasure and catapults them into the upper strata. Jim James throws down no less than four different voices within the 14 tracks. His falsetto is right on in the saccharine groove of opener “Evil Urges” and the tight, lean funk of “Highly Suspicious.” He handles the country psychedelia of “I’m Amazed” and “Thank You Too” smoothly, and he gets loud and playful on the rockers “Aluminum Park” and “Remnants.” And perhaps most gloriously, Jim evokes Nashville Skyline-era Dylan on the ascending, poignant and goddamn incredible “Librarian.” His performance throughout is simply masterful. The melodies are steeped in soul, with a nice measure of rock and roll. Lest we forget the band: the arrangements and production create the essential atmosphere for Jim to fly. Each instrument, though easily recognizable, slices and bends the air with an array of tones and rhythms that are fresh and that refresh. This recording comes at a perfect time for the rock community. It’s something all of us can put our arms around – and never let go.
Jun 1st, 2008 by Troy Butero
Abigail Washburn
When one thinks of bluegrass and old-time mountain music, the mountain range that typically comes to mind is the Appalachians. Abigail Washburn, though, doesn’t care much to stay planted in Bluegrass’s accepted Olympia. Instead, she creates a musical Pangaea, merging the Appalachians with the Qinling or Wudang Mountains of China. Washburn, an experienced claw-hammer banjo player schooled in the classical style of bluegrass, has effortlessly morphed her musical training with another interest: the language and culture of China. A visit as a freshman in college introduced Washburn to a world full of challenges, stories and uncovered beauty. Fascinated, she devoted her time to learning about Chinese culture and the Mandarin language. A newbie to bluegrass at the time, she decided ‘for kicks’ to translate a Gillian Welch song into Mandarin. A recording fell into the right hands, and the rest fell into place. With bandmates Béla Fleck (who also produced her new album), Ben Sollee and Casey Driessen, Abigail and her Sparrow Quartet combine resonant Americana tones with tales told in Mandarin and English to form a baffling study of what you might call ‘globalization.’ “What I am trying to do is capture what it is like to be caught between two cultures … it’s like being a bridge,” said Washburn in an interview with The Wall Street Journal. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet is a lively showcase of each musician’s incomparable talent, as well as Washburn’s great voice, as engaging in her natural alto as in her falsetto soprano. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet is definitively atypical – a promise, perhaps, not only of the vitality of American musical history, but of a new chapter in a dynamic book of stories told in many languages across the globe.
Jun 1st, 2008 by Erin Wolf
VITAL’s 2008 Farmer’s Market Guide
By Amy Elliott & Lindsey Huster The big city grind is tough in the summer. It’s hot, smoggy and crowded. Whole city blocks are periodically shut down for sticky parties and loud, smelly rock shows. Most of us keep our day jobs for the season and then act like we don’t have anywhere to be in the morning. It wears a person out. For a break – an idyll in the heart of the city, or a day-trip to sleepier regions – consider a trip to your friendly neighborhood farmer’s market (or some other neighborhood’s friendly farmer’s market). Replenish yourself with a stroll through the flowers, fresh herbs and handcrafts; some markets even feature cooking demonstrations, live music and – thank God – coffee. Stock up on fresh, locally-grown fruits and vegetables, conscionable meats and cage-free eggs, and the best cheeses, preserves and honey you’ll ever taste. Not only will you and yours be healthy, well-nourished and ready to take on the summer – you’ll enjoy connecting to your community, relaxing in the sun and refreshing your soul. Brown Deer Farmers Market 43rd St. and Bradley Road 9 am – 6 pm, Wednesdays through October. Annuals and perennials, produce and herbs. 414-354-6923. Brookfield Farmers Market City Hall, 2000 N Calhoun Rd 7:30 a.m. – noon, Saturdays through October. Annuals, perennials, fruits and vegetables, Piedmontese beef, cut flowers, maple syrup, chickens, eggs, bison meat, baked goods, dried floral, garden art and much more. Weekly entertainment and demonstrations. Monthly Market and More event featuring handcrafted items. 262-784-7804 or brookfieldfarmersmarket.com. Burlington Farmers Market Wehmoff Square, Burlington. 3 pm – 7 pm, Thursdays, June 5 – November 20. 262-210-6360 Cudahy Farmers Market 4723 S. Packard Ave., Cudahy 10 am – 4 pm, Fridays through October 31. Locally grown and produced baked goods, fresh produce, honey, flowers, plants, crafts and more. 414-769-7799 Delafield Farmers Market Fish Hatchery parking lot, 514 W. Main St. 7 am – 1 pm, Saturdays through October. This producer-only market features locally grown vegetables, fruits, herbs, honey, cider, fresh and dried flowers, annual bedding and perennial plants, ironworks, homespun woolen yarns and handcrafted items by local artisans. 262-968-4471. East Side Open Market Beans and Barley Parking lot, 1901 E. North Ave. Thursdays 3 pm – 7 pm, June 12 – October 9. Produce, agricultural products, flowers, herbs, farmers, amazing artists and weekly live entertainment. 414-226-2113 or theeastside.org East Town Farmers Market Cathedral Square Park, 520 E. Wells St. 7:30 am – 12:30 pm, Saturdays through October. Fresh produce, jellies, jams, cheeses specialty foods, arts and crafts. 414-271-1416 or easttown.com. Fondy Farmers Market 2200 W. Fond du Lac Ave. 7 am – 3 pm Saturdays; 8 am -2 pm Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays; 12 pm – 6 pm Wednesdays. June 14- November 22. Regular cooking demos, prepared food, and fresh locally grown produce. 414-933-8121 or fondymarket.org Fox Point Farmers Market Stormonth School, 7300 N. Lombardy Rd. 8 am – noon, Saturdays, June 21-October 18.Wisconsin-grown fruits and vegetables, mushrooms, native plants, flowers, honey, bakery, […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Amy Elliott
Skybombers
What is it about Australian hard rock bands and aviation references? The Screaming Jets in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s? Jet (the non-screaming kind, apparently) in the aughts? Now Melbourne’s Skybombers, a band of fresh-faced recent high school grads, are playing a brand of hard-edged power-pop on their debut full-length, Take Me to Town. The sound is what you might expect from kids their age — tight and well-executed, but with an unsurprising lack of a unique and singular voice, betraying their youthful inexperience. Make no mistake: they’re hitting the right touchstones — a sprinkle of The Who here, a liberal dash of Cheap Trick there — and the performances are solid. Producer Rick Parker (Von Bondies, Dandy Warhols) has done a heck of a job polishing these guys into a well-oiled, no-frills garage-pop steam engine. The opening-chord gut punch of “On + On” is an attention-grabber, and the instant hooks provided in, well, just about every song hold onto that attention with the stubbornness of a clamped-down pit bull (or, to make that simile more Australian, a dingo chomping on the baby it’s stealing). Still, the album rocks less in an “ohmigod they sound like Cheap Trick!” way and more in an “if I want to listen to Cheap Trick, I’ll listen to Cheap Trick” way. Give these kids a few more years, a few more tours and a few more records in their collection, and they could become a blisteringly original act. For now, though, they remain catchy, solid, fun, and downright forgettable. You’ll hum along during the first spin, but five minutes later you’ll be reaching for your copy of In Color.
Jun 1st, 2008 by DJ Hostettler
Green Bay godfathers and hockey-playing chimps
By now, you’ve probably heard how Wisconsin is destined to become the next great film capital of the world, which it isn’t, and how everyone from the Coen brothers to the rotting, re-animated corpse of D.W. Griffith will be falling all over themselves just for the privilege of filming here, which they won’t. The truth is this: the recently passed Film Wisconsin tax incentive bill will have a long-lasting, detrimental effect that will further tarnish our already-sketchy national reputation (and in a state that’s produced both Jeffrey Dahmer and the TMJ4 “Dirty Dining” team, that’s saying a lot). Before I go any further, I should make it perfectly clear that I’m not setting out to trash our many talented local filmmakers or ridicule the vibrant scene they’ve nurtured over the years. No, I’m here to warn against the legions of out-of-state filmmakers this tax break will attract, and the endless number of awful, awful movies they will almost certainly make in – and about – Wisconsin. Sure, a flick or two about Dillinger is fine for now, but let’s see how we feel after the umpteenth “Aren’t those backwater Midwesterners just so darn quirky!” movie comes down the pipe. Trust me; it’ll make the Bronze Fonze seem like a goddamned Frank Gehry concert hall. To illustrate this further, I recently immersed myself in two different types of films in order to find out which was more unwatchable: movies made in and about Wisconsin, or movies about animals playing sports. My findings proved to be embarrassing, infuriating, and in at least two cases, downright adorable. So, if you, dear reader, have any interest in protecting the image of our fair state, read on, and take heed. THE GODFATHER OF GREEN BAY (2005, d. Pete Schwaba) Vs. AIR BUD: SEVENTH INNING FETCH (2002, d. Robert Vince) The Godfather of Green Bay is a horrible, horrible movie. I mean, it’s really horrible. In all my years as a discerning moviegoer, no film has filled me with such seething contempt for humanity, and yes, I’ve seen Garden State. When an appearance by Mark Borchardt is the least offensive thing about a movie, you know you’re in for a nightmare. Put lightly, GOGB is one of the worst movies ever made. Air Bud, on the other hand, was kind of fun. The list of cinematic crimes GOGB commits is unforgivable: one, it’s about stand-up comics; two, its insights into Wisconsin go no deeper than “ya der hey” accents and frequent mentions of how the Bears, like, totally suck. The plot involves writer/director/star Schwaba – whose performance could give a piece of wet cardboard a run for its money – heading to Wisconsin for a Tonight Show audition, and falling in love with a clearly embarrassed Lauren Holly in the process. Oh, and there’s some sort of crime kingpin with a mullet. Who loves the Packers. And hates the Bears. Ha ha. The fact that Wisconsinites were actually entertained by this poorly made, shamelessly pandering barrel-scraper […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Matt Wild
The Undiscovered
By Ken Olson A door closed noisily. With a lazy start, Greg Norton woke up. Even in the dark, he squinted as he propped himself up on one elbow, listening. Had the door been one of those inside his apartment? Or even the front door? It took him a moment to remember that he wasn’t home alone as he normally was. Tonight he was babysitting his best friend Gina’s son Adam. Maybe the kid had gotten up and gone to the bathroom. Only, it didn’t look like the living room light was on. If it were, he could see it under the bedroom door. Surely Adam would need to turn a light on in order to find his way to the bathroom. The layout of Gina and Adam’s apartment three floors above Greg’s, 602, was the same as his, so maybe not. Greg listened for a minute or two, waiting to hear the toilet flush, or any other sound. But after a few minutes, there was still nothing. He clicked his bedside lamp on, and the room was filled with a golden light, throwing deep, black shadows to all corners. He pushed the sheets behind him and got out of bed, picking up a T-shirt that he’d dropped onto a chair. Greg put the shirt on and stuck his head out the bedroom door. From there, he could see the rest of the apartment. The bathroom door was ajar and the light wasn’t turned on. In the living room, the fold-out bed was indeed empty. There was no one in the kitchen. “Adam?” he called, stepping toward the bathroom door. He leaned in and turned on the white light. Nobody there. He rushed into the living room and turned on the nearest lamp. The kid was gone. “Shit,” Greg said aloud, throwing a glance at the front door. The bolt was unlocked, and the chain was hanging loose. He’d locked them both after he’d put Adam to bed. He jogged to the front door and opened it. He called Adam’s name again, looking side to side down the pale green hall. He didn’t see anybody. “Fuck. Adam?” he called more loudly, stepping out and closing the door behind him. Greg suddenly realized that he wasn’t wearing anything on his feet, and he didn’t want to leave the apartment unlocked if he left to go looking for the kid. With another curse he returned to the apartment and put his keys in the pocket of his sweat pants. He sat on the edge of the fold-out bed and put his shoes on. While he tied them, he thought back to the previous day, Saturday, when Gina had first asked him to babysit Adam. When he’d hesitated to say yes, Gina had said, “Please? Come on, there’s no one else.” “But I don’t like kids.” Out of range for Adam to hear it of course. “It’s just for one night. I’m not leaving until seven, he goes to bed at eight, and […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Vital Archives
Every day’s a holiday
One Friday in the middle of May, my children woke themselves early and were in the kitchen, dressed and ready for breakfast, by 6:30. As I poured my coffee, delighted that we were more than a half an hour ahead of schedule, my youngest ran at me. He grabbed me tight around the middle and shouted, “Happy High Interest Day, Mama!” My middle daughter joined in the hug. “Happy High Interest Day, everybody!” The chatter at the table was light and fun and when it was time to leave for school, the kids raced to the car. The thrill in the air that day was due in equal part to two things. The first is obvious: my children love high interest day at their school. The idea of a whole day free to learn new sports, crafts and skills turns them on intellectually; they look forward to high interest day all year. The second may be less evident: we love holidays at our house, and are always looking for a way to have more of them. Holidays can be useful. No, really, they can! I have to admit, I’ve passed my preference for low-impact celebrations to the kids. Fourth of July and Halloween are our family favorites. Watching parades, cooking out, planning costumes and trick-or-treating have become tribe traditions, and the kids rely on knowing that the outline of these days is going to remain basically the same. As a matter of fact, we have built tribe traditions to celebrate almost every major holiday. These events give structure and a sense of ritual to the year, as they do for families all over the world. But created holidays are more spontaneous and just as joyful. They can also brighten almost any situation. Last winter a friend of ours decided to drive in from out of town for dinner and board games. The kids and I were excited for some levity in the middle of all that snow and cold. We planned the menu carefully and Lena helped me cook while Emma and Jeffrey “decorated” the table. About 30 minutes before she was due to arrive, she called to say that due to a series of setbacks, she was running late. She called back again a little while later; traffic was at a standstill and she wasn’t sure when it would be moving again. She encouraged us to eat without her. But the kids really wanted to wait for her, and were searching for a justification. We declared the day “European Dinner Day,” and had snacks until supper was served around 9:00 p.m. It’s not even hard The need to celebrate must be hardwired. Those months between Valentine’s Day and Easter often stretch out bleakly before us. A similar sense of emotional drag occurs between Easter and Memorial Day. Finding excuses to dress up, have a party or spend the day outside laughing with friends and family relieves the tension of day-to-day life. It can revitalize a sagging family morale, which […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Lucky Tomaszek
Pygmies in Chimayo
By Justin Burke Long before they filed for divorce late in 2004, Mr. and Mrs. Bourbon had lost their hankering for the Corriente cattle ranch. Over the last decade they had made the venture successful and had profited greatly from the growing rodeo market. In March of the following year they auctioned off the stock, equipment, and work vehicles while a realtor out of Las Vegas placed a “For Sale” sign to the left of the massive log placard that arched over the entrance and read in a deep wood-burned script: Bourbon Ranch National Corriente, Ltd. Ocate, New Mexico Mr. Bourbon moved to Phoenix where he had a girlfriend and she moved back east to be with her own people. After cleaning out and locking up the living quarters, the score of ranch hands embraced and wished each other luck before sauntering out in a dusty line of pickups. They all had plans, or at least they all claimed to have work lined up elsewhere. Everyone, that is, except Darren. Until the dissolution of the business and the dispersement of the family of co-workers he had known for the past five years, he assumed — at the age of 28 — that he would grow old on the Bourbon Ranch. Darren had imagined an unbroken destiny of outdoor work, busy hands, the daily pitting of man and beast, the surreal midnight birthings, hooves of horse and calf pounding an anxious beat along the pink earth and the whir of hemp cycling through a dry blue sky. The young man could hardly fathom an end to the monthly Saturday dinners at the Las Vegas Hotel — hearty meals courtesy of the Bourbons, chased by cold pilsners, petty gambling, shots of whiskey that fell in quality at every round, jovial boasts and fibs, and finally, with any luck, a shrugging off of desire and waking to a quiet Sunday morning with Sandy the hostess, who, for the last two years, had demanded nothing of him. All in all his ambitions were met. During the sell off, the most commonly asked question around the ranch was “What are you gonna do?” And until he turned and looked for the last time at the weathered placard towering above the “For Sale” sign, Darren still had little idea. Since they had barely spent a sober moment together and though she had offered respite, he was wary of imposing upon his goodtime girlfriend in Las Vegas. A mother and sister in Oklahoma held no interest for him. But he did have an open invite from an old school friend living in Chimayó and thought he’d pay him a visit—Tricky Nick, currently managing properties and as always, selling marijuana on the side. Without enthusiasm Darren made up his mind and throttled his old S-10 outside of the gate, kicking up dried sprigs of chamisa on his way out. “No, Bro. You can have it,” said Nick as he jarred the entry door, rattling the length of the […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Vital Archives
Gone Fishing
Photos by Erin Landry Summer is never so sweet as it is after a crushing winter. So it’s time to pull out the fishing rod and relax to the tune of water lapping at the shore. Here are two easy fish and shrimp dishes for your catch – with a cocktail to wash them down. Fishbone’s Ragin’ Cajun Pasta Executive Chef and Partner Jessie Souza Fishbones Cajun & Creole 1704 Milwaukee Street Delafield, WI 53018 262-646-4696 For the past eight years, Chef Souza, formerly Corporate Chef for Louise’s in California and Milwaukee, has been wowing patrons with his Cajun-Creole fusion at Fishbones in Delafield. Diners enjoy the colorful, festive décor inside or peaceful view overlooking Lake Nagawicka from the bar or outside deck. Harkening to his roots, the chef has recently introduced a Mexican menu. Particularly notable are his crispy flautas with a moist, tasty chicken filling. ¾ lb Andouille sausage ¾ lb grilled chicken 2 small tomatoes, chopped ½ c sliced mushrooms 1 pint heavy whipping cream 12 shrimp, cleaned 6 T olive oil Salt & pepper to taste Cajun seasoning to taste 1 lb spaghetti pasta (cooked) Method: In a medium sauté pan, add the oil and heat for 2 minutes. Add the sausage and cook for 1 minute. Add chicken and cook for 1 minute. Add shrimp and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add tomatoes and mushrooms, cook for 3-4 minutes. Next add the whipping cream and season with salt and pepper. Let the cream reduce for 3-4 minutes, then add Cajun seasoning to your liking. Finally add the pasta and mix well, place in a medium bowl and serve. Serves four. Tropical Salmon Fantasy + Summer Sensation Cocktail Auto Zone store manager Joseph Russell loves to cook daily feasts and fancy dinner parties for friends. He got his chops from his mother and working as a chef on Amtrak’s Southwest Chief line. 4 salmon filets (about 4 ounces each) Extra virgin olive oil 2 T fresh dill, or 1 T dry Salt and pepper to taste Dust salmon filets with salt and pepper and dill. Place in baking dish skin side down. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and bake at 375 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes or until flakey. Serve with Mango Tango Salsa. Mango Tango Salsa ½ papaya, diced ½ mango, diced ¼ c chopped scallion, green part only ¼ c diced red bell pepper 1 T finely diced fresh jalapeno pepper 1 T chopped fresh cilantro 1 small clove garlic, minced 1 T fresh lime juice ¼ t salt ½ t extra virgin olive oil Combine all ingredients and chill for at least one hour. Serve with baked salmon. Summer Sensation Cocktail 1 shot vodka Prepared raspberry lemonade 1 Lemon wedge 2 Strawberries Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour in vodka and chill in freezer for a few minutes. Take out of freezer and fill glass with raspberry lemonade. Squeeze lemon wedge into drink and garnish with quartered strawberries on a swizzle […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Cate Miller
A stitch in time
Woodland Pattern Book Center Devotion to Thread 720 E. Locust St., Milwaukee Now – June 13 Reception: Saturday May 31, 5-9pm, with a Gallery Talk at 7 pm Photos by Faythe Levine Woodland Pattern has long been a mainstay of the Riverwest neighborhood, and over the years, it has extended its reach to include the greater Milwaukee area with programming ranging from music to workshops to art exhibits and beyond. The venerable non-profit venue is a mix of hippie, uber-hip and points between. A mural fronting the building reads “28 years of power to the people.” Frankly though, some of that power should have been used to quell the endless, booming chatter of the 20-something woman whose loud mindlessness invaded the quiet gallery where I was trying to concentrate on writing this review. Apparently, she’d just dropped by to chat up the worker behind the desk. Quiet Please! Reviewing the work of 15 artists is all but impossible, and I felt myself pulling away from examining each of the approximately 40 pieces. That changed as I circled the room. The lone work I gave a zero rating was “We Other Victorians” (Xander Marro), primarily because it was a bad fit with the other works. A quilt of sorts, with an edgy motif, the colors were heavy, and, well, depressing among the mostly pastel threads used in the balance of the work. That said, I understand it satirizes the dark creepy era of Queen Victoria, so perhaps it was included in the exhibit to add a note of contrast. Jenny Hart’s 23”x36” wall-hung wonder “Pink Forrest (Flattery plus Charm)” is, even at the lofty price of $2,300, what I most wanted to take home. Ms. Hart hails from Austin, Texas and her exquisite naughty threads stitched on sleazy orange-pink satin fabric conjure the balls-out flavor of Western kitsch. If your grandma has a really awful tourist pillow from 1940’s Texas, you’ll get my drift. Kristin Loffer Theiss from out Washington way stitched three lovely heads (perhaps family members?) in black on white material. They reminded me of loose line drawings, or threads unspooling from a bobbin gone wild. Faultless to a tee, they are marvelous in the way that Jean Cocteau’s line drawings are marvelous. Orly Cogan contributed five works, one priced sky-high at $10,000. But what a piece it and her four others are. Surely she must know the work of self-taught Chicago artist Henry Darger (you can see his scroll drawings in the Milwaukee Art Museum folk collection); if not, it’s a real coincidence that her figures resemble Mr. Darger’s “Vivians,” sweet little girls with less than sweet attitudes who now and then sprout penises. Look here at this one: a lady, quite naked, playing ring toss with her naked partner, the object being to toss the ring over his waiting penis. These are delicate sensational works, none more so than “Bittersweet Obsession” where girls snort blow and, wearing nothing but fishnets, crouch while eating cupcakes. The thread work […]
May 29th, 2008 by Stella Cretek
The Boys Next Door
Staging Tom Griffin’s The Boys Next Door can be a tricky endeavor. The comedy about a group of developmentally disabled men and the social worker who looks after them uses a brand of humor that doesn’t always make people feel comfortable. The audience is encouraged to laugh at the cognitively impaired not because they are strange and freakish, but because their offbeat idiosyncrasies are honest reflections of neuroses common to even the most functional among us. The key to a successful staging of the play is the delicate balance between the comedy of the individual and the comedy of disability in a way that maintains a universal level of human dignity. The Sunset Playhouse production, which opened last weekend, comes perilously close to presenting its subjects as stereotypes of mental retardation, but only in brief, fleeting moments. For the most part, this is an exquisite production of a well-written contemporary comedy. Mark Neufang plays Jack Palmer, the social worker keeping track of four men who live in a group home for the developmentally disabled. The play charts Palmer’s uneasy desire to find better, less stressful work elsewhere. Neufang has an impressive amount of nice-guy charm, but the subtleties of his character’s mounting job dissatisfaction are largely missing. However, Neufang brings more than enough compassion to the stage to make up for any other shortcomings in his performance. Scott Kopischke plays group home resident Arnold Wiggins. Wiggins is a reasonably functional individual who works at a movie theatre. Wiggins has a mildly obsessive compulsive personality that is warped by an aversion to internally consistent logic. Kopischke recently played Elwood P. Dowd in a Sunset production of Harvey. His performance here is far more accomplished. Here he shows a profound amount of humanity and a clear aptitude for performance in a larger ensemble piece peppered with a few clever stretches of monologue. Lawrence J. Lukasavage plays group home resident Norman Bulansky. Norman’s cognitive development seems to be stuck at grade school level, but he’s functional enough to hold a job at a local donut shop. This is Lukasavage’s first performance with Sunset and probably one of the few he’s had outside Off The Wall Theatre. Lukasavage takes to the new stage quite well in a brilliantly subdued performance. It’d be all too easy to simply pretend to be a child in the role of Norman, and Lukasavage gracefully avoids this in a very sympathetic performance. Kurtis Witzlsteiner plays mild schizophrenic Barry Klemper. Klemper believes himself to be a professional golfer. Probably the most functional of the four men, Klemper may be one of the trickiest roles to play. The character has to seem completely functional until a key moment when everything turns around for him. Witzlsteiner is capable at conveying the character’s emotional dynamic, but seem to lack the kind of stage experience necessary to make the role as powerful as it could be. Mario Alberts rounds out the central cast in the role of Lucien P. Smith, a profoundly impaired man […]
May 29th, 2008 by Russ Bickerstaff
The Spitfire Grill
The Spitfire Grill still sparkles. The award winning musical, a reprise production from September 2002, literally glows through the book, music, and lyrics by Wisconsin natives and friends James Valcq and Fred Alley – especially on this particular Saturday night, when the four piece orchestra played under composer Valcq’s guest direction. Based on the 1996 film The Spitfire Grill by David Lee Zlotoff, first screened at the 1996 Sundance Film Festival, Valcq and Alley adapted the movie to one of a small Midwestern town: Gilead, Wisconsin. This is where the young ex-convict Percy Talbot dreams of starting over and setting down deep roots, but finds little to love when she reaches Gilead’s only restaurant and discovers its few inhabitants discouraged by life. But as Percy learns to forgive what others think and say about her and how they treat her as she participates in rural living, she also learns to forgive herself for committing a crime of desperation. Overlooking a bright morning sunrise, Percy ultimately begins to believe when she sings that “A diamond of hope shines a light in this dark heart of mine.” The cast of The Spitfire Grill lives out the frustration of a bleak Wisconsin winter on the Skylight’s spare, rough-hewn set, showcasing an open staircase of timber. Yet Alley’s compassionate lyrics, set to Valcq’s lovely melodies, resonate as a paradise of color, similar to a hill of October trees, enhances the backdrop through scene changes on the stage. From the opening “A Ring Around the Moon” to the charming “Into the Frying Pan,” Valcq’s rhythms use every frying pan lid, clanking car chain and snow shovel as percussion in a perfectly-timed performance. In an exceptionally poignant moment of music, Shelby Thorpe — the young woman helping in the grill when owner Hannah breaks her leg — comforts Percy after she reveals her personal grief with the haunting “Wild Bird.” The audience remains as silent as the night woods as the vocals haunt the theater throughout much of the performance, except when down-home humor punctuates the dialogue. This profound attention focuses on a strong professional cast including Katy Blake as Percy Talbott, who at first is all bravado but settles in to the softer aspects of the role as the evening progresses. Leslie Fitzwater as Hannah Ferguson and Elizabeth Moliter as Shelby Thorpe bring touching voices to the musical harmonies, and Becky Spice creates notes of laughter with her portrayal of Effy Krayneck. Today’s audiences still applaud this tale of redemption and hope, which won the Richard Rodger’s Production Award in 2001. Alley, who died only a month before the honor was awarded, continually lives on in through this performance and all his art. The musical resonates evocatively when the lyrics, “Shoot the Moon … Life is hard and gone to soon” resound on stage. His songs speak to the simple but profound truths in life, always delivered with a smile. Since its 2001 premiere in New York, The Spitfire Grill has played continually across the […]
May 27th, 2008 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
