Mexico City

A quick work trip to Mexico City with the Dean. We had good meetings and did some touring though the downtown area and the museum of anthropology, which was spectacular. And the Avian influence hit the media the morning we were leaving. Out just in time.

Red Noses at Strawdog

Wow! Matt Hawkins totally blew it out of the water with the great production.



















From Time Out Chicago's review:

"As the black plague ravages Europe, a pious young clergyman named Flote feels a calling from God. With tacit approval from a disinterested pope, Flote assembles a ragtag band of sorry souls to combat despair—and the plague itself, personified as a black-cloaked ghoul in a Pulcinella mask—with clowning.

Brit writer Peter Barnes’s 1985 play sounds on paper a bit like an earnest, potentially patience-trying cousin of Godspell. And that’s not far off the mark, except that our patience reserves remain miraculously full. Whether viewed as a critique of the church (the pope worries that Flote will drive Catholics “out of the salvation business”) or of the Thatcher-Reagan regimes—either view is supportable—Barnes’s work feels utterly, surprisingly relevant in this inventive and kinetic staging.

Hawkins’s 18-actor production makes great use of both the Strawdog ensemble and vets of the House, Factory, Hypocrites and other storefront stalwarts; it’s possibly the canniest assemblage of Off Loop talent since last year’s Hypocrites Our Town. Punctuated by cheekily co-opted renditions of ’80s tunes by the likes of Billy Joel and the Outfield (credit arranger Mike Przygoda and the self-accompanying cast) and featuring Aly Reneé Graves’s astute modern-dress costumes, Red Noses is a major achievement for Hawkins. He skillfully enhances Barnes’s theological themes and tangible-disease schema (“sickly yellow” has never been so literal as in this production’s visual metaphor) with an exhilarating pop-cult playfulness that his performers wholly embrace. Sarah Goeden delivers mute, wide-eyed brilliance as the good-est spirit of all, while John Ferrick finds unexpected nuance in his lead role as the noble priest. In his inviting, winningly unadorned performance, Flote hopes.

Birthday 52

We had a lovely birthday dinner at Blackbird. And there were gifts.












Always have the cheese plate. And the iPod upgrade.

Final Four

Dang those Tarheels.

Book Club: Palace Walk

Wait Until Dark at Court

Knott’s 1966 thriller, in which a recently blinded woman, Susy Hendrix (Gavino), is harassed in her home by a trio of con men, holds up well in Parson’s stylish revival. The playwright was a meticulous plotter; if we allow for the generous suspension of disbelief that a suspense caper like this requires—why would a thug as ruthlessly amoral as the ringleader Roat (a terrifically chilly Hoogenakker) bother with such an elaborate ruse?—the story is relatively airtight.

Delfos Danza

At Columbia Dance Center:

















"Recognized as one of the most important contemporary dance companies in Latin America, Delfos is known for their fully articulated, high-energy style, fast and free of constraint. Delfos brings an exciting program of five works to The Dance Center. Solo y Mi Alma (Alone and My Soul), is a “serenely hectic, puredance” (The New York Times) by Claudia Lavista, creating corporeal calligraphy to the wailing music of Meredith Monk. Bolero, by Claudia Lavista and Victor Manuel Ruiz, is an energetic dance set to the seductive Bolero of Maurice Ravel. The Delfos dancers fly with amazing finesse to the deeply spiritual music of Antonio Vivaldi in Omar Carrum’s Nisi Dominus. La Frontera de Mi Piel (The Border of My Skin) by Xitlali Pina pushes the limits of emotional violence and madness, and Entre Sueños Y Flores (Between Dreams and Flowers) by Víctor Manuel Ruiz evokes eternity, tenderness and mortality."