Friday, October 23, 2009

Greetings and BOO to you

Fine Print on a Saturday? Yup, I'm launching this two days early since I will be at a trade show on Monday. Better early than late, I guess. This way, I avoid the call from an unnamed reader. When the post is not up by noon on Monday, I receive a call inquiring "When?". The tone of speaker varies. Often it is concern...is something wrong? But, there have been days of annoyance...will I be seeing it yet today?...to downright rudeness...if I don't see it in an hour, I'm not reading it again.
I have no idea who it is. I cannot recognize the voice, and caller ID onlh reads "cell number." So, here's to you, dear, unknown reader. sip your coffee, read on, and please know there will not be a fresh post on Monday. Live with it.

Masquers, Manitowoc's awesome community theatre group opened its season last week with "Greetings." Since the HTR no longer reviews shows (a fact I stand and applaud), I have decided to toss around some theatre thoughts from time to time.

Let's begin! Great job Jamie! Jamie Strutz directed, and, for a new, young theatre leader. she has much to offer. Her theatre studies in college provided a nice bag of tricks, and she complements that with solid instincts, an ability to play on nuances, and good old fashioned intuition.

Jamie put together a powerhouse cast, loaded with experience and, and artistic respect. Great seeing Chris Kornely back on stage in a major roll. Chris is a rock, a director's dream. Once she locks in her part, you know she will be consistent and strong. Corrie Skubal and Justin Knapp make a fine team as the star-crossed lovers at the center of the show's conflict . They were comfortable with each other, lending a level of naturalness to their scenes. (I enjoy that on stage, as opposed to the school of theatre that promotes "acting".) Their scenes demanded control, and emotional range. (Lotta kissing for you in this roll, huh, Corrie?)

Each actor found a character, eased into his/her skin, and stayed there throughout the performance. For me, the shining stars on opening night were Rick Gerroll, and Giovanni Navarro, who deserved the starring curtain call position. We all know Rick. No one does curmudgeon better than Rick. He cracks me up. Where most pauses between lines drive me batty, Rick knows exactly how long he can hold out before delivering. I heard a some lobby talk comparing him to Archie Bunker...too easy. Sure, the similarities were there, but theatregoers can always count on Rick to add personal style, and playfulness.


Who knows where this Giovanni Navarro fellow came from, or why he turned up in Manitowoc, but let's hope he stays. The guy has chops. He knows it; you can tell. Giovanni could easily have taken the show and run with it, but he knows how to be an ensemble player which is admirable. His performance reminded be of Leonardo DiCaprio's character in "What's eating Gilbert Grape " but because it was live, the impact was amplified. At first his portrayal of the mentally challenged Mickey troubled me, but then, is that not one of the charges of the arts? Do they not encourage us to take fresh looks at the world, the people around us, and our relationship and reactions to them?


The concept of challenge becomes one of the themes of Dudzick's play -challenge of ideas, traditons, mindsets, and beliefs. Dudzick is hailed as the "Catholic Niel Simon, " but, from my perspective, he has a long way to go to reach Simon's level of artistry. "Greetings" is a derivative show, combining elements of Simon's "God's Favorite" with characteristics of Medieval mystery plays (a little comedy, some Bible references, and a lesson intended to get us to change our evil ways). Throw in a little "ET" (you know, the stranger lands to show us how to be better people) and "The Wizard of Oz" (an unlikely character unites a diverse group ) and you have the makings of a not too original script. Despite that, I enjoyed every minute of it.

As a director (and as a former actor) would I have done things differently than Jamie and her cast? Sure. Theatre is all about choices, and that is one of the attractions. Theatre folk join together to commit art, and the product of their choices - the show that hits the boards - bears the mark crafted by the individuals who had the courage to take on the task. That is the beauty. That is the magic.


Personally, I can do without the curtain talk before the show. I just want the play to start - like it does at the Rep, the Guthrie and other pro companies. No commercials. That's what the program is for. I also get a little distressed when group members hoot through the curtain call, and, in their enthusiasm, initiate the standing ovation. Please, wait. Share the pride in a job well done at the cast party. Let the audience have that last moment to show its appreciation. What a gift for the cast to know the thank-you's are spontaneous and sincere, rather than helped along by "mom and dad" who love them no matter what. But, having been at the back of the house watching shows I have directed, I know that jumping out of your skin with happiness for the cast feeling.
That ends the snarky portion of the review. Not too bad, huh? Oh, here's a little more snarkiness....the Capitol Civic Centre should have been filled. We need to support our local groups; we need to respect the tradition that Masquers has established for arts in the Lakeshore. You have three more chances this year to catch their work...."A Christmas Carol," in December, "Some Enchanted Evening," a musical review, in spring. Their middle show is an Agatha Christie mystery. Boy or boy! Mysteries are had to pull off on stage, but if anyone can do it, Masquers can. Get there if you can.


What am I reading: Alice I Have Been, a new book by Melanie Benjamin. There's a glut of spin-off novels out right now and this one tells the back story of Alice Liddle, the girl who inspired Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.


What have I been up to? Last weekend I got a chance to read with Hatrack Storytellers at the Lester Library in Two Rivers. We read Halloween stories to an appreciative audience of about 30. It has been years since I have done any sort of performing. Hatrack was fun, and I got a little reminder of why, long ago, I enjoyed a few trips across a stage. Stacey, Damon, and the lovely little Olivia also read. The mother-daughter team were first time readers, but got the hang of things quickly. I hope we get to read together again.
Damon is an experienced Hatracker. Reading with him is a challenge. He's sneaky, and funny, and gives me the giggles. Once that starts, I can't quit. Damon has a elfish quality that emerges when least expected. Reading with him brings back fond memories of readin with another playful character...Jimmy Mellberg!


On Friday, our book group celebrated our annual Halloween-pizza-movie-and costume extravaganza. Check out Jess as Sophia from the "Golden Girls," Angie as Kate Goslin, and Valerie as Angelina Jolie. Angie even brought a brag book with pictures of her kids. We also had James Patterson, a real housewife of Manitowoc County, and a Little Edie Beale who never quite made it to the gathering. We had lots of chocolate, wine, and other goodies while we discussed "Grey Gardens." I went home still chuckling about the fact that either Nancy's mind is a steel trap for useless information, or she is an adroit lyer skiller at making "facts' up on the fly. Just ask her. She knows everything there is to know about lady bartenders in Colorado. Really! My stomach ached from laughter, and too much pizza.
Thanks for stopping by!

Monday, October 19, 2009

In the Kitchen by guest blogger Steven Head


I spent the weekend visiting my mother, getting her house prepared for the return of winter. A ritual involving furniture rearranging, stowing of hoses, stashing of ceramic pots in the garage, swapping storm window insert for screen in the front door, and a number of trivial but essential chores. Add a couple games of canasta and you just about know everything about the visit.

Most Saturday nights mom goes to a local supper club with a male friend and they dine and dance. This weekend the bandstand was dark so she looked for other possibilities. We agreed on going to see "Julia & Julie" at the old fashion theater from my childhood. I recall summer morning shows for elementary school kids there. For a dime you could win something in a drawing, watch local talent, sing God Bless America led by the theater manager, catch a couple cartoons and the feature. Life was much simpler then.

The striking features of this theater include the series of large repeating art deco panels insets on both walls featuring an M design. The four tier stacked lighting. Each a different color. And stenciled multi-colored design on terraced ceiling panels around the perimeter and right down the middle. It would be a perfect place for a slinky with steps from the projection booth down to the gradually slanted main floor.

My preference for seating in any movie theater is close to the front. I like to be assaulted by the screen, filling my visual field, without obstacles. But I deferred to mom and we sat a little more than halfway back on the main floor. Lots of heads in front of us but an unobstructed view.

I do not have a lot in common with "Julia & Julie" other than the possible exception of enjoying food. It is a rare and welcome occasion when French food, good French food, appears on my plate. I can count the French restaurants I have been to on the fingers of one hand. And there is only one friend who has served French food. Her mother is a French war bride. Say what you will about the French but their food is amazing.

J&J is the parallel story of Julia Childs shared authorship of Mastering the Art of French Cooking with a pair of French women, and Julie, a 20-something woman living in Queens with her husband and working for a government agency handing calls from individuals and families impacted by the twin towers attack. Julia's story reveals her marriage to a diplomat and how they met in the OSS, been stationed in China, and how the McCarthy era touched the life of her husband. Julie's story reveals college friends who have all gone on to 'big things' while she plods along as a government drone, her novel unfinished. All this leads Julie to start a blog with the goal of doing all 524 recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days.

As you can imagine, both of these stories are filled with challenges, disappointments, and crisis. The stories are both well told, the acting by Meryl Streep as Julia and Stan Tucci as her diplomat husband was superb. I did not recognize, and am too lazy to look up, the young actors playing Julie and husband, who were adequate but lacked the polish of the veterans. And of course the scenery of France was enchanting.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film and recommend it to those who love food and those that don't. My only complaint involves the frequent intrusion of the overhead microphone in multiple scenes. How in the world can so much care and craft go into a project only to be diminished by a distracting microphone? Was the film editor drunk, on drugs, suffering from post-Lasik surgery complications, or the incompetent in-law of a producer? It makes me even more appreciative of all the films where all the little things get done correctly as well as the main business.

Monday, October 12, 2009

...with Apologies to Kate DiCamillo

A continuum of consequences exists in regard to addictions. They creep. They clutch. They control. And worst of all, they cling to one's life with the tenacity of a barnacle. Some have devastating impacts on all aspects of an individual's life. People dealing with addiction recovery agree that the first step in ridding one's life of these pesky disturbances in acknowledgement.


Well...here goes...I am addicted to Eggz. Lest you think I am making light of the larger issue, know that I am not. Know that I am fully aware that on that aforementioned continuum, Eggz addiction barely makes the defining cut-off . Just the same, this little computer game has pecked its way into my day, and will not go away. Despite the warning glued to the top of my computer reading "Bev, no playing computer games," and signed by Ivan the Terrible, I cannot resist a dozen or so games a day.


The game oddly combines the old piano-playing chicken trick, pinball and Skeball, with a mouse controlled version of air-hockey minus the air and the hockey. Once you hit the GO button, the chicken clucks, bobs and plunges the mechanism that shoots an egg to the tip of your arrow. If your mouse, keyboard, computer and arrow are all in perfect alignment, you can hit the left click and start cracking those Eggz. An egg must hit at least two other like colored eggs to clear them from the field, with your goal being to get your egg to crash against the back wall. Additional eggs are laid randomly as you play. Once you hit the wall, you move up a level, and the behind the scene chickens get real busy shooting those eggs out.


I have made it to level 7; there is no answering the phone once I hit this level...after all, level 8 may just be an omelet away. Sometime, I even play when there are customers in the store. I have learned to turn down the sound on those occasions, after being called out one afternoon by an 8 year-old. "I know that sound" she said, "but I just can't get past level 10!" Level 10! There's a level 10? How long can this go on? I am replacing mouse batteries daily due to the incalculable number of mouse taps. Bills are piling up. I haven't seen my friends in weeks, and my dog may be starving for all I know.


I have named the chicken Louise. For weeks, I was calling her Edna, but then I read Kate DiCamillos's book, and realized, I had been mistaken. Louise is just a better chicken name. After a series of adventures with pirates, circus performers, and street vendors in a land far, far away, Louise learns that there is no place like home.
Hmmm...sound familiar? DiCamillo has a charming way of re-inventing favorite themes, and archetypes. Last weekend I watched The Tale of Despereaux which calls upon the the hero-quest storyline, along with number of comfortable fairy tale elements. If you haven't read the book or seen the movie, do it soon.
I wonder if Kate remembers me? Two years ago, I frightened the bejeepers out of her at a trade show. Against my better judgement, I went to St.Paul, armed with some crazy antibiotics to combat a stubborn infection. The infection, the stress of being sick, and the lack of sleep due to worry about traveling, ...well, eventually, and at the most importune time, I hit an ugly wall.
I happened to sit down at a table with Kate DiC, and her publicist. My stupor first took me on a rambling one-woman performance on how much I loved all of her books, giving her an oral history of everything she had ever written, as if she didn't know. I was winding down, when The Journey of Edward Tulane came to mind, and that is where I lost it. The thought of that little bunny, Edward, falling overboard, and floating toward an uncertain future, was too much and I broke down sobbing. Poor Kate. She looked terrified. Surely I blubbered something about being tired and sick. I bent down to grab a tissue from my knapsack stashed beneath the table, and when I reappeared, they were gone.
I am sorry Kate. I am not a nut. But then, you don't know that for sure, do you? You write about talking mice, and rats, and bunnies, and princesses who long for soup. In that realm, you are at home, comfortable, and safe. You were supposed to be at the trade show to accept the 2009 Midwest Booksellers Choice Award for Best Children's Picture Book...Louise, the Adventures of a Chicken. Instead, someone from your publishing house accepted the honor. He never said why you weren't there.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

I Love to Go A-Wandering (NOT!) well...sometimes!


If you know me well, you know that for me, there's no place like home. But, I managed to get out and about last week, without being overly traumatized. First, it was off to St. Paul for the annual, regional book trade show. This has become routine for me each fall, and there are sights, places and people I look forward to seeing each year...the awesome, first glimpse of the Mississippi, the park adjacent to the convention hall that pays homage to F. Scott Fitzgerald, and my favorite Peanuts characters, the brew pub across from the park, and the little artsy shops lining the street. Although St. Paul bustles, it is a friendly city, and I could easily live there. No one pushes, or mumbles, or snaps, or beeps horns.

Neighborhoods! Where have they gone? How nice would it be to have all your needs within walking distance? In addition to the mundane necessities, my needs would include a performing arts center, a movie theatre, a bookstore, and an authentic Mexican restaurant. From my current neighborhood, I can walk to a bar, a bank, and a temple. I suppose I could make it the nearest convenience store, but the uphill return would take days, and my survival would be questionable.


The trade show kept me busy for a couple days, and of course, the highlight was meeting authors, and getting a peek at new books. Now I will drop names - Neil Gaimen (The Graveyard Book) Robert Goolrick (The Good Wife), Vicki Myron (Dewey), Lauren Stringer (Snow), Ingrid Law (Savvy), David Wrobleswski (The Story of Edgar Sawtell). These are just a few of the rock star writers and award winners I was lucky enough to meet. The beauty of this event is that these writers not only speak at special events throughout the conference, they stick around and help man/person? their publisher's displays, and spend time chatting. You would be surprised at how many writers have heard of Manitowoc - many recognizing the name from hotel ice machines, and even getting close to the correct pronunciation!

Mike Perry! I look forward to catching up with him each year. This year we chatted about his growing Manitowoc fan base, including two loyal readers, Pat and Margarette, who he has come to recognize by face, if not by name. We talked about his choice to home-school, which has some readers puzzled, confused, and angered. Mike explained that the decision is not a condemnation of the public school system, but rather an opportunity to have his children travel with him.


After a fast, filled, and overwhelming show, nothing was nicer than seeing that big, brown "Welcome to Wisconsin" sign as I crossed the state line at 11:30 on Sunday night.

The picture at the top is Big Horn Lake in Townsend, Wisconsin, about two hours northwest of here. The cabin at the right is one of several once owned by my great grand-parents. Inspired by Sara Rath's novel, Star Lake Saloon and Housekeeping Cottages, I decided it was time to return to this place filled with happy, childhood memories. I found it easily, and the rustic, name plaque nailed to a tree told me that the little fishing "village" is still owned by a distant family member. That is good. No one was around, but I did some exploring anyway. The out houses are still there, although I didn't get close enough to determine if they were functional, or simply left as quirky icons of long ago.
Immediately, I was struck with the memory of pleasant quietness. There are no motor boats on Big Horn Lake. Water laps to the shore, and if you're patient, a fish will jump and splash. That's all for sound on a calm day. The sky and water are both a perfect, sapphire blue. Breathtaking. One of my favorite pass times when we were at the cottages was to float in an inner tube to the middle of the lake and watch the fish, and fiddle with the lily-pads. The water was, and is, clear. I assume the lake is still filled with blue gill and northern.

Some changes have been made. A few new, sweet little cottages have been added to the land, just big enough to sleep two of three people. The fish cleaning shanty has been removed. Fish guts! I can't believe I ever scraped and scaled fish, let along watched my grandfather slice and gut them, but spending time with him remains one of my fondest memories.

I wasn't sure what I would find in Townsend, or how I would feel about seeing the cabins and the lake again. I was afraid that the calm, rustic, happy place in my mind could turn out to be a series of run down shacks, crammed together down some scary,out of the way, road, leading to a muddy, sucker-filled, mosquito infested pond. That was not the case. I am lucky, and maybe I will go back again.

*****TV update. I pulled the plug on dish Network. My 120 channel package, when analyzed, turned out to be too many to count infomercial channels, repeated channels, channels in foreign languages, or 24 hour news channels. 120 of them for sure, but only four or five worth watching. So, I am without TV viewing capabilities for a while. I will look at it as an experiment in hermit-like living and see how it goes.
In addition to the TV business, I also declared a moritorium on needless car travel. Wouldn't you know, right off the bat, I discovered that I had left the book I was reading on my desk at LaDeDa. Torn between my vow to finish one book before opening another, and my decision to think twice before setting out on a ten minute journey that would surely wind up taking me on hours of unplanned adventures, I paced. I bit my fingenails. I walked the dog. I dusted, and rearranged the furniture. I looked up the number for Comcast, and I wrote it down. Then I blindly grabbed a book off the shelf and settled in for a wonderful Sunday afternoon with Under the Tuscan Sun.
Thanks for stopping by.