In our lifetime, only five years ago, Richard III got a spiffy tomb at Leicester Cathedral, after centuries in an anonymous grave not far away. That came to mind when Ann and I went into the city on Saturday to see a reading of Richard III at the Newberry Library.
It was the same setup as last year, when we saw Titus Andronicus: actors reading their parts, holding scripts, while moving around one of the library’s large rooms, in front of and to the side of the audience. Outside wind blew and rain fell, just above freezing, so that might account for the slightly smaller crowd than last year, but even so a lot of people came out for the tale of murder, intrigue, more murder, double-dealing and a violent denouement. Everything you need in an Elizabethan history play.
Very talented actors, so the lack of any set or costumes didn’t matter. Christopher Prentice, who played Richard, did the demented villain to just the right pitch, and moved himself in ways that didn’t exactly suggest a hunchback, but weren’t quite normal either, and strangely menacing.
One more thing. Here’s the mission statement of the Richard III Society, which was instrumental in finding the king’s bones in our time: “In the belief that many features of the traditional accounts of the character and career of Richard III are neither supported by sufficient evidence nor reasonably tenable, the Society aims to promote, in every possible way, research into the life and times of Richard III, and to secure a reassessment of the material relating to this period, and of the role of this monarch in English history.”
I’m all for historical inquiry, but even so — Richard III gets to be a villain. The literary Richard III is more robust than any historic portrait of him is ever likely to be.
I always take many more pictures than I post in any given year. Here are some from this year to close out the decade. Back to posting around January 5, 2020. That year sounds so far in the future, at least for those of us who vaguely remember Sealab 2020 — and yet here it is.
Near North Side Chicago, January 2019
San Antonio, February 2019
Downtown Chicago, March 2019
Elmhurst, Illinois, April 2019
New Orleans, May 2019
Arcola, Illinois, June 2019
Pittsburgh, July 2019
Oak Park, Illinois, August 2019
Midland, Michigan, September 2019
Charlottesville, Virginia, October 2019
Schaumburg, Illinois, November 2019
Millennium Park, Chicago, December 2019Good Christmas and New Year to all.
Walkabouts in Chicago aren’t so bad in December as long as temps hover above freezing and the wind isn’t too strong. Those are the conditions we had over the weekend, so we spent a while downtown. Took a look at the Millennium Park Christmas tree. We wandered past the skating rink, just below the Bean.
The rink is also in shadow of much larger structures. Earlier, on a street a few blocks to the west, a family asked me directions to the Bean. I think I gave them good directions. I’m glad that even in the age of Google Maps — a really good urban navigation aid — people are still asking other people for directions.
Usually one visit to the city per weekend is enough. On Saturday, the trip to see TheMerchant of Venice involved a drive to a part of town where parking is easy and an El stop is nearby, so we could ride the rest of the way to a neighborhood with far more difficult parking.
Not long ago, I found out that the Hot Sardines were going to be in town the same weekend — but on Sunday — so I decided that I wanted to see them, too. At least driving all the way was an option, since the band was playing at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Lincoln Square. We parked a half a block away.
The only reason I know about the Hot Sardines is YouTube. To be more exact, YouTube algorithms that suggest one thing and another. When it comes to music, that’s almost always very little outside a narrow range, but occasionally something unusual gets through. Probably listening to electroswing a few years ago made the bots suggest the Hot Sardines’ to-the-ceiling-lively version of “Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen.”
They’re just as lively in person. Hot is fitting. Hot jazz and lots of it, in a roughly two-hour show with no intermission and two encores, with frontwoman Elizabeth Bougerol and bandleader Evan Palazzo each hopping their jive — peppy vocals and animated piano, respectively. Other band members jammed on trombone, trumpet, bass, tenor saxophone, clarinet and drums, sometimes including conga. Often enough each of them had solos in which to shine, and shine they did, every jack jazzman of them.
There was also a fellow on stage with no instruments. Sitting in a chair in his fancy duds and fine hat. (Of course, they all wore fancy duds — Bougerol in gold lame and Palazzo in powder blue.) As soon as the first number started, his feet started tapping, and you noticed the taps on his shoes. He was the band tap dancer. Did he ever move, sometimes just sitting down, but often on his feet, moving all over the stage, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap with arms and legs moving every which way, adding his distinctive rhythm to the band. Who thought of adding him? (A.C. Lincoln by name.) What an inspiration.
Some tunes were more familiar, some less, all good. Among others, the Hot Sardines played “Some of These Days,” a Sophie Tucker number, “Bill Bailey Won’t You Please Come Home,” “Lulu’s Back in Town” and “Caravan” (take note of A.C. Lincoln doing his thing in that last video). “Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen” was the first encore.
As we entered the theater, I noticed a few small signs here and there explaining that the show was partly sponsored by the European Union. Odd, I thought, then forgot about it.
About mid-way through, Bougerol, who had a pretty good between-song patter, mentioned it. “Seems like one of our sponsors is the European Union,” she said, making a gesture that told us, How strange.
“Must be because I’m a French national,” she said.
Listening to her speak or sing in perfectly idiomatic and unaccented English, you’d have no clue. Apparently she was born in Neuilly-sur-Seine near Paris, but spent time in Ivory Coast and Canada while growing up — as well she might, since her grandfather was a Canadian jazzman named Bobby Gimby, who wrote a song I might have sung as a six-year-old had I lived in Ontario instead of Texas.
Bougerol did four or five of songs in French — just as jazzy as anything in English — but the only one whose title I know was “I Wanna Be Like You,” or whatever the French equivalent is. She said she knew it from watching the French version of Disney’s Jungle Book as a child.
The band lineup is a little different in this video, but the tune and lyrics are the same.
She also told the amusing story of how the band formed. Namely, the beginning of the musical collaboration between her and Palazzo, who met by answering the same Craigslist ad for a jazz jam. They discovered they both knew a relatively obscure Fats Waller song, “Feet’s Too Big,” and played it at the jam.
Then they played it for us in the audience.
Now that’s a fun song. Fats Waller’s recording of it is here.
On Saturday Ann and I went to the North Side of Chicago to the Pride Arts Center to see The Merchant of Venice as performed on a small stage by Invictus Theatre Co., which did a first-rate job.
Besides enjoying the steady stream Shakespearean turns of phrase — as with any of his works — by seeing that play, we were also dipping our toes into the unending argument about how to interpret the play and especially Shylock.
The modern urge is to want Shylock to be sympathetic, and he is sometimes, such as in his righteous anger. Yet sometimes he’s not, as when he bemoans not his lost daughter, but the money she took with her. I doubt that Elizabethan audiences concerned themselves much with understanding Shylock, however nuanced Shakespeare made him. They just were looking to be entertained, and probably booing and hissing at Shylock was fully part of that.
But we bring centuries of further history with us when we see the play. Invictus referenced this explicitly by setting the action in Fascist Italy, with costumes specific to that period — including the stylish dresses of upper-class women of the time, but also blackshirts. The setting added an extra layer of menace to the situation Shylock found himself in, making him easier to sympathize with.
Also emphasized: Shylock as an outsider. Joseph Beal, who did a fine turn with the part, played it with a Yiddish accent, which might not have meant anything to Venetians of 1600 or even 1938, but which marks him apart from the rest of the cast to our ears.
There are comic elements in the play, of course, some of which actually were funny, especially when Portia’s suitors mulled which box to pick to win her hand. A young actor named Jack Morsovillo briefly stole the show as the comic Arragon in that scene. Though it wasn’t all that funny, the play also featured the comic conceit of two men unable to recognize their wives simply because they were pretending to be men.
In this production, a silent addition marked the end of the play. Jessica, the daughter who abandoned Shylock, emerges on one side of the stage, looking miserably torn about the decision she’s made. Shylock emerges on the other side of the stage, looking at her. Are they going to reconcile? Quarrel? Before anything is said, two blackshirts come from behind Shylock, grab him and take him away.
Quite an ending, even if appended for a modern audience, for a play that’s technically a comedy. So the production was squarely in this new(ish) tradition — since the 19th century, I believe — of making Shylock more victim than monster, but hardly all victim. Well done, Invictus.
During Open House Chicago last month, we saw this. Nothing to do with the event. It’s a Thai shrine of some kind. Not sure whether it counts as a spirit house, but the building behind it (from this angle) is a Thai restaurant — Taste of Thai Town at 4461 N. Pulaski. Previously, the building housed a Chicago PD station. We ate lunch there and were well satisfied with the meal.
In Virginia last month, Ann and I ate at Moose’s by the Creek in Charlottesville. It’s a large diner, decorated with a couple of enormous moose heads, many antlers and other reminders of sizable members of the deer family. Had some good sandwiches there, and when I paid, the woman at the register — it might have been co-owner Melinda “Moose” Stargell herself — said she wanted to take our picture under a major pair of antlers.
For Moose’s by the Creek’s Facebook page. Lots of customers have their pictures there. She said we were free to download it for ourselves, so here it is.
I had to be careful not to bump up against any of those points. Moose’s by the Creek also gave us some stickers.
We had dinner the first evening in Richmond at Belmont Pizzeria in the Museum District, a pleasant old neighborhood not too far from VCU, so maybe students eat its pizza too. Mostly it was takeout, with the large kitchen completely visible from the ordering counter, but there were a few tables, so we sat down to eat as a parade of people came in to get their orders. It was a popular joint, full of wonderful smells, and when we got our pizza — which had shrimp on it — we found it to be wonderful too.
Our visits during the 2019 Open House Chicago event on October 19 weren’t only to churches — just mostly. The opportunity was there.
In the mid-afternoon, we headed down to the Beverly neighborhood on the Southwest Side. Next year, no long drives between neighborhoods — we spent too much time jammed on the Kennedy Expressway, then the Dan Ryan Expressway. I should have known better. But the sites were worth it.
Eventually, we got to Beverly. First stop, Christ the King.
Midcentury Modern, with distinctive brass and glass, completed in 1955. Design by Fox & Fox, who are still in business. The King of Kings indeed. Painted to look like a mosaic from the floor. Some blocks to the south is Trinity United Methodist, designed by Ralph E. Stotzel and Edward F. Jansen. “The present building is its 5th location, begun with the construction of the community house — the northern portion of the current building — in 1924. Construction of the Gothic sanctuary was delayed by the Great Depression, but it was completed in 1940,” says Open House.
The church also has a fine organ.
We heard it in action. According to the church, it is a Möller Pipe Organ, opus 8240, with three manuals and 26 ranks, installed in 1951. Apparently the M.P. Möller Organ Co. of Hagerstown, Md., was a busy organ-maker in its day.
As a saint, Benedict the African (1526-89), or Benedict the Moor, has enjoyed longstanding popularity in Italy, Spain and Latin America, and is also the patron saint of African-Americans. I didn’t know any of that before we visited St. Benedict the African, a church in the Englewood neighborhood of Chicago, as part of Open House Chicago on October 19, but I was going to learn.
The exterior looked unpromising. It’s a modernist design completed in 1989 by Belli & Belli. “Eight parishes were consolidated into St. Benedict the African in the 1980s, the building was designed specifically with and for its predominantly African-American community,” Open House says. The exterior might be utilitarian, but inside is a whole other story. A whole other remarkable story. A welcoming St. Benedict is one of the first figures you see. Fashioned from Ethiopian glass (there’s an industry there) by local artist David Csicsko to honor Benedict’s parents’ birthplace. The Sears Tower and the John Hancock building are in the background.
Not far from that window is an astonishingly large baptismal pool (too big to be called a font?). Open House claims that at 10,000 gallons, it’s one of the world’s largest. The sanctuary is in the round. “An inspired 200-pound, hand-woven tapestry adorns the wall behind the altar and depicts a dancing flame (the spirit of God), choppy waters (daily strife), and the broken body of Christ image as the Bread of Life,” the church says.
In wood, a depiction of St. Martin de Porres, another saint I knew nothing about before visiting the church.
More Csicsko glass. A Living Cross. Elsewhere is another one of his windows, or a pair actually, depicting Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks and Sister Thea Bowman, the last of whom was new to me as well.
According to Open House Chicago, Our Lady of Victory is in the Portage Park neighborhood of Chicago, though it isn’t that far south of the Copernicus Center in Jefferson Park. Other sources put the church in Jefferson Park.
Never mind, Our Lady of Victory was our first church of the day during Open House. Others would follow.
Underneath the main church is a chapel. According to a parishioner on hand to talk to visitors, the chapel was completed decades before the rest of the church — 1928, designed by E. Brielmaier & Sons. Then work stopped. First there were hard times, then there was a war.
“Work on the upper church was delayed until it was finally completed in 1954,” Open House says. “The tan stone of the Spanish-style exterior was selected specifically to complement the color of the ornate terra-cotta around the original entrance.”
By this time, different architects were on the job: Meyer & Cook.“The warmth of the exterior extends to the sanctuary’s lavish tan and pink marble and terrazzo. Polychromatic details throughout, particularly in the stained glass, wooden Stations of the Cross and other painted elements contribute to a colorful and welcoming space tied together with subtle Art Deco influences.”
East of Our Lady of Victory, and east of the Kennedy Expressway in the Irving Park neighborhood, is St. Edward. I don’t know that I’ve ever visited a church named for Edward the Confessor, but there it was. And there he is. Quite a view, looking straight up. The church has a similar construction history as Our Lady of Victory, except the archdiocese managed to complete it before the war. “Plans to build the current St. Edward Church began around 1926,” Open House Chicago notes.
“Construction of the lower level was completed, but the work was halted because of the Depression. Worship took place in the lower church at basement level. The upper church was completed in 1940.”
The distinctive feature of St. Edward is in the narthex. Not too many churches you can say that about.
More specifically, all around the narthex ceiling is a painted replica of the first third of the Bayeux Tapestry, done in oils by an artist named Mae Connor-Anderson and completed in 2005. It’s about 75 feet long and you have to crane your neck to appreciate it, or — as I did for a few moments — lay on the floor.
Just inside the nave a parishioner, maybe only a shade older than I am, sat at a small table with some material about the church and especially the Tapestry, mostly some photocopied sheets. I took an interest and told him that I’d seen the Tapestry. He seemed a little excited at that — not only someone who knew what it was, but who had actually seen it. He told me that he wanted to see it himself, but hadn’t gotten around to it.
So we talked some more about the Tapestry and St. Edward’s replica, and just before I left, he told me to wait a second. From under the table, he produced a professionally made 12-page booklet about the St. Edward and the Tapestry and gave it to me. The cover: The first third was reproduced on the ceiling for reasons of space, but also because it begins with King Edward meeting Harold II — perfidious Harold, according to Norman propaganda — and ends with Edward being interred at Westminster Abbey. Other adjustments were made as well, including leaving the Latin tituli out.
An example page of the booklet: From my perch on the floor, I was determined to get at least one image of the ceiling painting. Who else but good King Edward?
The weekend after I returned from Virginia, where we encountered a number of statues of Thomas Jefferson, I found myself in front of a statue of Thomas Jefferson. In Chicago. In the neighborhood known as Jefferson Park on the Northwest Side. He’s standing in front of an open-air CTA bus terminal. Actually, an intermodal station, since the Jefferson Park El stop is back there, too.
“The statue depicts Jefferson standing at a podium as he signed the Declaration of Independence,” says Chicago-L. “The statue stands on a circular granite base, divided into 13 wedges representing the 13 original colonies. One of Jefferson’s quotations — ‘The will of the people is the only legitimate foundation of any government’ — is imprinted around the outer edge.
“A time capsule, which includes essays from the children from schools in the surrounding area, was buried at the statue’s feet. The statue was made possible through a fund drive organized by the Jefferson Park Chamber of Commerce.”
Elsewhere, I found that it’s the work of Edward Hlavka, erected in 2005.
As interesting as an eye-level bronze of a Founding Father might be, I hadn’t come to Jefferson Park for that. Rather, the area was our first stop during Open House Chicago 2019 on October 19. The fact that I just gotten back from a trip wasn’t going to keep me away. Besides, it was a pleasant fall day in Chicago.
First we went to the Copernicus Center on W. Lawrence Ave. These days, the Copernicus Center is an event venue owned by the Copernicus Foundation, a Polish-American society, which holds events of interest to the local Polish population, but that’s not all. Looking at its list of upcoming events, I found a concert by Iranian pop singer Shadmehr Aghili; Praise Experience, “one of the biggest African gospel concerts in Chicago”; and a stage show called Cleopatra Metio la Pata, “Por fin llega a los Estados Unidos la sexy comedia musical!”
The building opened in 1930 as the Gateway Theatre, “designed in Atmospheric style with classical Roman-inspired flourishes; complete with a dark blue, starlit sky in the 2,092-seat auditorium, and classical statuary and vines on the side walls,” Cinema Treasures says. A movie palace, in other words. Mason Gerardi Rapp of Rapp & Rapp did the design.
Movies are still shown at the Copernicus — the Polish Film Festival in America is coming there soon — but mostly the stage holds live shows.
From there, we walked along Milwaukee Ave., passing the Jefferson statue, and soon arrived at the Jefferson Masonic Temple. The main room was open. A mason was on hand, the fellow wearing the tie, to talk about the temple and Masonry. The subject of the Anti-Masonic Party didn’t come up.
“The Jefferson Masonic Temple, completed in 1913, is one of a few remaining active Masonic Temples in the city limits of Chicago…” Open House Chicago notes. “The Providence Lodge, which built the structure, eventually merged with the King Oscar Lodge, and the space is now shared by several different Lodges and owned by the nonprofit Jefferson Masonic Temple Association.”
It was the same setup as last year, when we saw Titus Andronicus: actors reading their parts, holding scripts, while moving around one of the library’s large rooms, in front of and to the side of the audience. Outside wind blew and rain fell, just above freezing, so that might account for the slightly smaller crowd than last year, but even so a lot of people came out for the tale of murder, intrigue, more murder, double-dealing and a violent denouement. Everything you need in an Elizabethan history play.
Good Christmas and New Year to all.
He’s standing in front of an open-air CTA bus terminal. Actually, an intermodal station, since the Jefferson Park El stop is back there, too.
