Arts & Culture
HA!
In Tandem Theatre Company marks their 10th Anniversary with the Midwest premiere of HA! Along with this premiere, the company also debuts their permanent residence at Tenth Street Theater, a few steps underground below a red brick church on Wisconsin Avenue near Marquette University. By opening weekend, In Tandem had finally received temporary occupancy. But even with unfinished features, the high ceilings, cathedral arched doorways and comfortable in-the-round theater will certainly provide the now-established troupe with an elegant space enabling their mission to enlighten, inspire, provoke, and entertain. Rich Orloff’s HA! pursues these themes with three distinctly different yet connected acts of theater. As a playwright, Orloff has won multiple awards for his comedies, and was most recently honored with a 2003 Dramatists Guild Fellowship. This particular play represents his comedic timing, but with biting “a-ha” moments. The first act sets a scene in ancient Greece, with the court of King Oedipus putting a politically correct spin on this unusual crisis in leadership. Act II moves to January 5, 1905, “when the snow in Russia turned red,” looking at this violent act from several points of view including the Russian aristocracy and their servants. The third act develops in a classroom, as a young student attempts to defend his ‘Master of Universe’ degree by designing a complete ecosystem named Earth. Its supreme element, the human being, is called before his professors, who will give him his final grade. At first impression, the entire play appears to be an extended riff on Saturday Night Live, but beneath the humorous lines are buried truths and thoughts worth contemplating. The cast, playing multiple roles, inclues actors Parker Drew, Simon Jon Provan, Kevin Rich and Jacque Troy as well as supporting cast members Jack Lee and Michelle Waide, and together they carry the comedy well. Under Chris Flieller’s direction, time and thought is given both to both laughter and the more controversial subject material. In two hours, HA! creates smiles but also plenty of conversation afterwards if the audience is willing. Several characters offer humorous “insight into the human condition,” asking “why human beings, given all the recipes and resources for paradise, were deemed impractical but at least biodegradable?” This series of comedic moments inspires and provokes, presenting a thoroughly happy 10th Anniversary for In Tandem. Celebrating in their new home on Tenth Street, HA! continues their theater traditions with wit and style. In Tandem Theatre Company continues presentingHA!through October 21 at Tenth Street Theater, 628 North Tenth Street, Milwaukee. For information: 414.271.1371.
Oct 10th, 2007 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
FINAL WEEK!
By Tracy Doyle Windfall Theatre’s latest venture is a bold attempt at staging a very intriguing and challenging piece of drama, David Mamet’s Cryptogram. Mamet’s work, famous for its frequent interruptions, trail-offs and swear words, is often difficult to nail, but Windfall comes close with this production. And although some of the clues in this play of mystery may be misguided, overall the experience is highly engaging and worth the effort. The definition of a cryptogram (according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary) is a communication in cipher or code, and that is exactly what to expect from Cryptogram. Words, props, set pieces, even gestures are all part of the code, and you, as an audience member, need to piece together the clues to figure out what is going on. The play revolves around the strangely absent Bobby (who never appears), his wife Donny (Carol Zippel) and their pre-adolescent son John (Avi Borouchoff), who is set to go on a camping trip with his father. As time passes and Bobby’s absence continues, the situation becomes more and more absurd: secrets are revealed and John drifts further and further toward a strange mental place children should never go, due in part to his insomnia and in another part to his role in the adults’ affairs. John starts questioning everything from the existence of countries on the globe to whether or not his mother has ever wanted to die and eventually brings the play to its surreal ending. The character development is outstanding with Larry Birkett as the family’s bachelor friend, Del, displaying an unsettling, quiet passion. Borouchoff shines with talent rarely seen in young actors, while Zippel’s struggle as her life comes crashing down around her is amazing to watch. However, the pacing was off at times, especially in the first scene, and the blocking left much to be desired. Misdirection of some of the key clues may lead audience members to incorrect conclusions, but all in all, this is a difficult yet fun piece not to be missed. Cryptogram continues though October 13 at Village Church Arts, 130 E. Juneau Avenue in Milwaukee. For tickets call 414-332-3963.
Oct 8th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Martin Ramirez at MAM
Martin Ramirez is an enigma. For decades, he was classified as one of the three greatest “outsider” artists of contemporary American art, but next to nothing was known about him. In the last ten years, two dedicated biographers have beaten back the darkness surrounding the facts of Ramirez’s life, but this endeavor has lead to other questions. Ramirez was born in the Jalisco region of Mexico in 1895. In 1925, like many others — then and now — he immigrated to the United States to find work. He worked on the railroad in Northern California for five years, sending money home to his wife and four children in Mexico. In 1930, Ramirez was arrested for erratic public behavior, and ultimately institutionalized, first in Stockton and then Dewitt State Hospital. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and lived the rest of his life in the institution, where he died in 1963. Most of these facts were not known when Ramirez was categorized as an outsider artist in the 1970s. It was thought he might have been born in Mexico, it was thought he might have died in the 1960s. It was widely thought that he was a deaf-mute, which is not accurate. The term “outsider artist” was coined to denote an artist that did not take part in the “art world” — one that did not exhibit, did not invite or assimilate criticism, did not discuss their art. An outsider artist might be thought of as someone who refused or was unable to think of themselves as an artist. However, along with basic biographical details of Martin Ramirez’s life, we have learned in recent years that he did exhibit during his lifetime. A professor at Sacramento State College visited Ramirez often and arranged for his art to be shown, both in solo exhibitions and as part of group shows, on both coasts. Ramirez was critiqued. He had visitors in Dewitt that came to see him to discuss his art. One must wonder if Ramirez did think of himself as an artist, especially towards the end of his life. All he had was the hospital, and his drawings. All historical considerations and controversies aside, though, it cannot be denied that Ramirez had a vision of some sort. He was driven to create, whether or not he was an “artist” in classical terms. His drawings, on bits of paper pieced together with a glue made of potato and his own saliva, in crayon and colored pencils and whatever else the staff of the hospital had lying around, have a decidedly dreamlike quality. Viewing them, one enters a surreal realm of horses and trains and women wearing crowns. Everything is stylized, and it’s unclear how much of that is due to the fact that Ramirez was drawing from memory after being in an institution for 30 years, and how much of that is due to his schizophrenia. My favorite of his general themes are the trains and tunnels. He does variations; there are a few […]
Oct 5th, 2007 by Ryan Findley
Element Everest
By Kenya Evans Life is a Heist tells the spiraling stories of the hood rich just trying to get by and delivers a verbal vengeance signed and sealed by Ms. Everest personally. The first and only lady of local hip hop group Black Elephant – 2006 WAMI runners-up for best unsigned artist – Element Everest (yes, her real name) is debuting her first solo album. She’s no stranger to MCing, writing rhymes and shutting down naysayers who criticize or question her authority as a female rap artist. Gritty and unapologetic, Life is a Heist booms with 808s, snares and brassy beats against Element’s smoky voice. The up-tempo “Intro” has the layered instrumentals of a marching band, dramatic and charged with musical action. “Good Girls,” the first single, which premiered on local radio station V100, is a sexy and sassy boy-meets-girl love song that’s mellow and made to groove to. Element upholds what Black Elephant does best – telling tales of the city, from grinding streets to head-bobbing beats – but brings a bit more soul to her own songs. Element sings a cappella on “The Wire,” reminiscent of an old Negro spiritual, channeling the stark realities of modern-day urban strife and the continuous struggle of black life: that there’s no difference between slaving in the fields to becoming slaves of the mind and products of an impoverished environment. “Katrina,” a duet with local guitarist/singer/songwriter Evan Christian, speaks for the dismal and discriminated New Orleans natives who were victims of a natural disaster and their own government. Overall, it’s rich and hard-hitting, both lyrically and musically: Element doesn’t play nice. Get ready to take a bite out of some ghetto melodies that bite back.
Oct 4th, 2007 by Vital Archives
An Interview with Paul Robeson
By Jill Gilmer Interviewer: “Why did you stop making films?” Paul Robeson: “Because little Negro girls go to the movies looking forward to experiencing fantasy. But when they come home, they feverishly try to rub the color off of their skin.” The excerpt above is one of the provocative question & answer segments from An Interview with Paul Robeson. The Next Act Theatre opens its season with this probing drama about the legendary African American scholar, entertainer and political activist. The play, written by John Kishline and Paul Mabon Sr., with Mabon starring in the title role, examines Robeson’s life and legacy through a lively discourse between him and a New York Times reporter. Paul Robeson appeared in 12 films and stole the show in the musical Showboat with his soulful rendering of “Ole Man River.” In 1943, he achieved critical acclaim playing Othello in Broadway’s longest running Shakespearean play. Prior to establishing himself as a performer, Robeson led a distinguished academic career. He overcame overt racism and physical abuse to graduate as valedictorian of his class from Rutgers University in 1918, the third black student to attend that institution. In his spare time on campus, he earned 15 athletic letters in football, basketball, baseball and track. He went on to graduate from Columbia Law School. Beyond this string of accolades, Robeson is well-known for using his celebrity to draw attention to social and political issues. He criticized the racial stereotypes that permeated American media during the Jim Crow era and challenged the idea that black people should fight to defend a country that denies them many of the privileges of citizenship. Robeson defended his provocative beliefs with personal sacrifice. He stopped making films that perpetuated racial stereotypes. He announced that, for two years, he would only perform songs about social justice. Robeson’s actions are sometimes credited with jump-starting the Civil Rights movement. Robeson was also a target of the McCarthy era investigations. On several occasions, he visited the Soviet Union and found it a warm and welcoming nation. For urging peace with the Soviet Union and his outspoken views about race in the U.S., the House Committee on Un-American Activities blacklisted his films and recordings for eight years. They also revoked his passport, limiting his opportunity to perform in Europe, where he had his strongest following. Today, it is still difficult to obtain copies of Robeson’s work. The play’s strength is its examination of Robeson’s childhood and early adult years and his contributions to the intellectual debate about fascism and the interplay between class, race and power. Director David Cecsarini creates an ideal venue for showcasing Robeson’s ideas and talent with a minimalist cast and set in the intimate Off-Broadway theatre. Paul Mabon embodies the strength of Robeson’s intellect and character. His rich, bass voice brings a stirring authenticity to Robeson’s most memorable songs, including “Ole Man River.” The playwrights do a commendable job shining a light on Robeson’s ideas while holding the audience’s attention with the drama of […]
Oct 3rd, 2007 by Vital Archives
Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings
They spend all of their free time lending their considerable talents to other people’s work, which makes one wonder how Sharon Jones and her backing band, the Dap-Kings, have had any time for themselves. Jones recently worked with Rufus Wainwright; the Dap-Kings can be heard tearing up pop radio as the backing band on Amy Winehouse’s smash “Rehab.” Yet along comes 100 Days, 100 Nights, their third release, on their own Daptone imprint. Expending all that energy on other projects hasn’t diminished the drive to create on their own; 100 Days sizzles with the classic Motown soul of Aretha and Stevie. While the Dap-Kings’ work on Winehouse’s Back to Black carries a distinctly pop sheen, 100 Days takes wood stripper to that glossy finish, leaving behind raw trumpets, gritty rhythms and the classic two-beat guitar stabs from Motor City faves like one-time Kings’ cover “Uptight (Everything’s Alright).” The lazily upbeat “Tell Me” comes closest to what would have been considered a pop hit in the days of Martha and the Vandellas, but that’s not to say that the midtempo groove that dominates the album won’t get asses on the floor. Of course, the real star here is Jones and her bluesy, ballsy alto, which wails away on tracks like the reproachful “When the Other Foot Drops, Uncle.” Maybe she isn’t likely to become the household name that Winehouse and Lily Allen are on their way to becoming. But since Jones and her band are bringing home plenty of green via their extracurriculars, Amy and Lily are welcome to their celebrity; just occasionally leave this crew to their own devices, and if they keep turning out records like 100 Days, 100 Nights, everyone wins.
Oct 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
The Music Issue
Here at VITAL, we love music, and we figure it’s a pretty fair bet that you love music, too. Every year we showcase everything that thrills us about the wide world of melody and harmony, rhythm and tempo, sound and silence, and this year it’s even more close to our hearts — it’s 100% homegrown. We talked to Milwaukee folk singers, Milwaukee hip-hop artists, Milwaukee legends, Milwaukee upstarts, and one remarkable Milwaukee rock photographer. We talked to five Milwaukee DJs about their best and worst nights and we talked to Milwaukee record collectors about the history of recorded music. We even visited the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music for a photo shoot. And our record reviews were local — we reviewed new releases by The Cocksmiths, The Saltshakers, Testa Rosa and Element Everest. It happened rather by accident, but what emerged from all of this was a sketch of an often misunderstood — and underestimated — music scene. Milwaukee is home to a vibrant, striving and passionate community of music lovers, makers and sharers. A lot of it happens under the surface, but it’s there, pulsing and singing and getting people up on their feet. But it’s there. And it’s here in our pages, and on our website. We hope you like it.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Big Dig
“It swings between passion and obsession, constantly. It’s definitely at the point where I’m like, ‘do I want to buy groceries this week, or do I want to go digging in Indianapolis?’” Aaron Soma spends 12 to 16 hours a week, on average, digging for vinyl. At least once a month, he leaves the state to rummage through basements and backrooms for dusty jewels of sound. He calls it the “great nerd odyssey” – and he’s not being flip, despite the shadow of cool that has settled on record culture in recent years. Aaron can describe what he’s into – Northern soul, forgotten originals of ‘80s pop songs – but it’s hard to put a finger on what he’s really searching for. So in consideration of the question, he made a list, went to some record shops, and thought about it for a while. Here are four things he managed to sort out. 1. Covers, or forgotten originals of songs that were covered and became hits Aaron’s first digs were through his parent’s formidable collection of records. “I picked up Beatles albums,” he says, “wondering, looking at the records, noticing that the song wasn’t written by John Lennon or Paul McCartney, but some American R&B artist somewhere.” “That’s the really exciting thing about collecting,” says Andy Noble, co-owner of LotusLand Records. “You’re always following a path, and you’re probably following multiple paths.” “It could take you back to the beginning of recorded time – or to Africa, or to Brazil – just by following the sound, the producer, the people who were thanked in the liner notes, weird stuff like that. It’s an exploration.” Aaron is always learning; every dig is a research project. “I’ll bring a battery-powered portable record player with me to a shop and just dig through, set stuff aside. That’s how I teach myself what’s going on. I hardly ever know what I’m looking for when I go out: it’s really a dive into the unknown.” 2. Midwestern music Aaron’s serious collecting started with ‘60s psychedelic rock, especially local acts – Michael and the Messengers, The Illusion, The Legends. For the past two or three years, he’s been collecting mainly funk and soul music, and still turns up a lot of local material. “Because I dig regionally, I tend to come up with a decent amount of stuff that was actually happening here – Harvey Scales and the Seven Sounds, The Esquires.” On a sunny late-summer afternoon, Aaron drives me out to an empty storefront on North Avenue. Audie’s Records has been closed since the late ‘80s, and judging from the steamrollers parked next door, it might not be standing for much longer. It used to be a major distribution hub for hip hop, soul and funk in the Midwest. “A lot of that stuff is still here. In bigger Midwest cities – St. Louis, Detroit, Minneapolis – a lot of the shops get really picked through.” Still, good finds don’t come easy – especially with […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amy Elliott
Buffalo
Affordable drinks and public smoking are two things homesick MC Lunaversol9, recent San Francisco implant, misses most about Milwaukee. Another is, of course, the people—not limited to her newfound friend and cohort Nicholas Sanborn. Sanborn, who frequented the coffeehouse where Luna worked, was familiar with her background with local hip-hop mainstays Def Harmonic, and presented her with an instrumental track in need of her flair. Though unable to produce anything for months, Luna eventually found the words, and the results were “Curtains,” a song about loss that would become one of her favorites to perform solo. “Deer Tracks,” where Luna’s smoke-ridden voice begs “I want antlers” the way a spoiled child demands her own golden goose, began as a looped guitar sample and was presented by Sanborn and verbally delivered by Luna in a similar fashion. “It was strange,” she says. “Unlike any other track I had ever been given. But gorgeous.” After two personally challenging and fulfilling songs, not committing to a project with Sanborn would have been foolish. At Sanborn’s request, the two formed Buffalo; Luna covers most of the lyrics, singing, and rapping, while Sanborn lays down the Wurlitzer, organ, piano, bass, guitar, and computer. “He is a musical genius, and I am mainly just a writer,” Luna admits. “There is really nothing he cannot do; his arrangements and choices are baffling. I only write when I can, and hope it fits.” Her unpretentiously earthy, soul-sopped attitude also bleeds out of her lyrics: “Is there a way to be a writer/And still be in love? Is there a way to drown in water/While watching it from above?” A short-lived, albeit intense fling last summer—evidence to support Luna’s rhetorical questions—was inspiration for the lion’s share of Buffalo’s first album. The debut has been recorded and is currently being mixed, but has no due date. While creative undergoings are usually compared to one’s children, Luna says music has always been more like a parent, much like the city she left to pursue life on the West Coast, a choice partner Sanborn respects and understands. Her goals for Buffalo, even after migrating from the Great Plains, are simply “to continue.” She adds, “to tour would be paradise.” Inspired by Fiona Apple, Tom Waits, Cocorosie, and David Byrne, among others, Luna has her eyes toward indie trip-hops TV On The Radio for tourmates. On March 3, 2007, the newly born Buffalo was unveiled to an audience. Live, the band is a different animal, when a drummer and an additional multi-instrumentalist fill out the stage. Despite Buffalo’s infancy, Luna has rapped since 1999 and Sanborn has played keys for Decibully since 2003, tallying volumes of stage and touring experience. The next Buffalo show, slated for her October Milwaukee homecoming, is promised to provide precisely “what you need at the time.” Luna’s own first impressions of Buffalo—strange and gorgeous—are likely to be yours, too. Two tracks are available for listen at http://www.myspace.com/iwantantlers
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
The Doo-Wop Box
I spent my teen years in Kansas City during the ’50s, and like other suburban girls of my era, gloried in wearing Mamie bangs and pony tails, Poodle skirts and saddle oxfords. A few years ago I bought a pair of those famous black and white shoes with pink rubber soles, copies of the originals which are still being churned out in California. Hey nonny ding-dong. Thank heavens, some things never change. Doo-wop. Do you remember doo-wop, the music of the 50s and 60s, rooted in the urban streets and hearts and souls of black Americans? When The Chords, five black guys, cut “Sh-Boom” in the spring of 1954, I was a senior in high school. My best friend introduced me to the sound, a sound so black that the beat stuck in my head and feet for years. To my lily-white ears it had a dangerous edge that signaled freedom and something other than the privileged “Pleasantville” suburbia of my teen years. It was sexy and sweet and heartbreaking. Filled with tears, moons and stars, it addressed the yearnings of most teenagers, but come to think of it, didn’t actually guarantee any answers to our prayers. In many ways, doo-wop resembled a stone-hearted God that we worshipped on a daily basis. Today I’m sitting in my office writing and listening to The Doo-Wop Box, 101 vocal group tunes compiled in 1993 by Rhino. The four CDs cover the years from 1948 to the doo-wop revival era stretching from 1959-1987. Included is a smart book stuffed with black and white photographs, historical information, and a list of 33 “nonsense” syllables, used to replace traditional instrumentation. Can you identify #17: doo wop, doo wadda, or #31: wah wah, shoop shoop? Along the way, I noticed that many of the vocal groups from the early years were named after birds … The Orioles, The Ravens, The Flamingos, The Wrens, The Penguins. But there were also groups named: The Nutmegs, The Jewels, and The Valentines. These folks did not lack for imagination. In 1956, I floated off to a college dance, in a strapless turquoise tulle gown and huge rhinestone earrings, my hair sheared off in a “Duck’s Ass.” It was a daring haircut, but my date, an uptight dental student intent on fixing tooth decay, never asked me out again, even though we sipped rum and Cokes and danced to “In The Still Of The Nite.” The Five Satins recorded the tune in a basement, and the book in my Doo-Wop Box informs me that despite the hollow sounds, it was one of the two most popular oldies of all times. The other was The Penguins, “Earth Angel.” Their name came from the icon on the Kools cigarettes pack. Earth Angel, earth angel, won’t you be mine? Tonite. Tonite, may never reach an end. Long Lonely Nights by Lee Andrews & The Hearts set my heart on fire. It still does. So, what’s an old lady like me doing listening to doo-wop, […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Judith Ann Moriarty
Sondre Lerche
When writer/director Peter Hedges (What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? and Pieces of April) first sought out Norweigan popster Sondre Lerche to compose and produce the soundtrack for his film Dan In Real Life, he had no inkling that the artist he so admired was so green, age-wise. Hedges only knew that organic, folky quality of the 25-year-old pop prodigy’s music reminded him of the soundtracks to The Graduate (Simon and Garfunkel) and Harold and Maude (Cat Stevens). Ultimately, Lerche’s age wasn’t a deterrent to Hedges – it ended up highlighting Lerche’s enthusiasm and his hopeful, earnestly-voiced lyrics, adding a lighthearted tone to a film about a single father of three caught in a bizarre love triangle. Lerche’s contributions to Dan In Real Life line up properly, playing into the first initial hope of a new relationship with the sparklingly optimistic “To Be Surprised,” loaded with bubbly guitars and a cheerful admonition: “baby, better be prepared to be surprised.” From there, the songs are sandwiched with mini-instrumentals of guitars, horns and piano, smoothing hope into rough pessimism. On his have-it-out fight song with a charming appearance by Regina Spektor (“Hell No”), Lerche and Spektor ham it up in true “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” call-and-response style. In “I’ll Be OK,” Lerche unloads a cautious, surrendering piece of pop vaudeville, reminiscent of a baggage-victim pouring out the contents of his heart over something strong, hoping that if the people at the bar pay him no mind, at least the alcohol will treat him kindly. A Lerche-produced version of the classic “Fever” performed by A Fine Frenzy escalates the lounge shtick, but Lerche eases back into his own take on classic vintage pop. He finishes up proper “Human Hands,” a bouncy piano romp; a cover of Pete Townshend’s “Let My Love Open the Door” (complete with trill–y strings); and a song from Lerche’s 2001 release Faces Down – “Modern Nature.” Lerche demonstrates on this soundtrack that not only can he deliver the sound he was originally sought out for, but he can deliver it in a manner that gives a deeper and more far-reaching humanity to the original story.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
The Sadies
The Sadies play like a Quentin Tarantino film — a synthesis of cult genres (surf, rockabilly, psychedelia), characters with memorable names (Sean Dean, Dallas Good) wearing smart suits, and a sweeping casualness about it all. Unlike Tarantino, the Toronto band’s fifth studio release has an absence of curse words and racial slurs. It’s hard to neglect their liner-note acknowledgment of the “financial assistance of the government of Canada through the department of Canadian Heritage” – pretty amusing since their brand is a blend of mindfully resuscitated ’60s American music. The Sadies haven’t reinvented the wheel, but they do hitch it on a wagon that rolls past an enjoyable landscape. “My Heart Of Wood” and “Sunset To Dawn” parade natural harmonies reminiscent of the Eagles. “Anna Leigh,” an organ-permeated trot about a mirage of love, is easily mistaken for a song titled “Emily” given the rambling, raspy lead singer. “Wolf Tones” and finale “The Last Inquisition (Pt.V)” highlight the band’s instrumental adeptness and stand tall without the Bob Seger vocal reinforcement; the upright bass, guitars, autoharp, and drums are eerie, inspired, and practically faultless. Extended family members contribute their musicality to the record – most distinctly, Larry Good’s lively, but buried, banjo artistry on “Never Again.” The filtered autumn colors in fuzzy film grain emblazoned across the CD packaging are representative of New Season‘s sound: inviting, textured, and mature. Maybe it’s okay to occasionally judge a book by the cover.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
