Surviving the heat
Despite my oft-expressed preference for summer over winter, and hot weather over cold, there comes a time when I've had enough! Please! I don't even want to think about what my electric bill is going to be. I usually hold off turning on the airconditioning until it's really hot, but it's been impossible to open windows. Not even lake effect helps. And normally, turning on my dining room aircondtioner on high does a decent job of getting the entire apartment tolerable, but yesterday I succumbed and turned on the living room one as well.
The judge to whose courtroom I'm assigned has been on vacation for the last two weeks, so I've been able to dress relatively casually. But tomorrow I'm starting a jury trial. I don't wanna wear suits and pantyhose in 100º weather!! Whaaaa!
Mostly I've been lazing around the house, swilling iced tea. But yesterday I went to two events at Millennium Park. Redmoon Theatre did one of their site-specific pieces, called The Balloon Man, on the Great Lawn. Redmoon infuses dark themes into play for kids
July 25, 2006
BY MISHA DAVENPORT Staff Reporter
Say what you will about Redmoon Theater, but the word "conventional" is unlikely to ever be used in the same sentence.
Who else but Redmoon, known for nonconformist theatrical spectacle, could pull off a children's show that features a song about how everything dies?
The intention behind "The Balloon Man," presented as part of the City of Chicago's weeklong series of free family events, was to create a children's show, though there are a few darker themes and several jokes that will no doubt go over most kids' heads.
It all starts out innocently enough. The Balloon Man (played by newcomer Nick Smaligo), a voiceless clown in a gold lame jacket, brown pants and hat, entertains the crowd by making balloon animals. He pulls one girl (Beatrice, played convincingly by Lindsey Noel Whiting) out of the crowd, brings her up to the stage, begins to make her a balloon animal and is then suddenly hit by a metallic truck outfitted with scaffolding and scientists in lab coats atop it.
"Are you doctors?" she asks.
"We're scientists, that's just like a doctor," says head scientist (and the narrator for much of the show) Brennan Buhl before he and fellow scientist Frank Maugeri haphazardly retrieve the Balloon Man from under the truck.
The scientists don't seem too concerned that they possibly committed clownicide. They explain to Beatrice that they are on the hunt for a mythical beast known as a Picnob (Joe Roche, in a Muppet-like costume). Buhl and the rest of the scientists, accompanied by local acid-folk band the Bitter Tears, quickly launch into a little ditty about how it's a death-filled world (the melody and humor both reminiscent of a They Might Be Giants tune). Initially horrified, Beatrice soon joins in, quickly running through the ABCs of how everything dies. Eventually, the scientists enlist her help in testing out several hypotheses in locating and trapping the beast.
If it all sounds silly and slightly surreal, that's because it is. The show, conceived and directed by Jim Lasko, is an homage of sorts to children's science shows. If Pee-wee Herman had done a science bit on "Pee-wee's Playhouse," it would look something like this. The scientists, led by Buhl (who is quick with a witty remark or improvised comeback), are all extremely likable, mostly for their comedic bumbling.
Younger children might have trouble with some of the show's darker aspects. Another segment on global warming also feels too forced. Still, kids seem to like the cuddly yet elusive Picnob, and it's unlikely that families will ever see anything quite like this again.
And you can't beat the price, even if it does entail having to explain the circle of life on the ride home.
Then I went across the street, grabbed some food to go at Café Bacci, and went back to enjoy a Grant Park Symphony concert of American music. Samuel Barber, Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, that whole crowd.
Today, I went to the Newberry Library book sale. 31 books. It was the last day, so everything was half-off. Still, I went a bit wild in the Collectibles/Art room. I spent the morning buying books, and the afternoon cataloguing them!
The judge to whose courtroom I'm assigned has been on vacation for the last two weeks, so I've been able to dress relatively casually. But tomorrow I'm starting a jury trial. I don't wanna wear suits and pantyhose in 100º weather!! Whaaaa!
Mostly I've been lazing around the house, swilling iced tea. But yesterday I went to two events at Millennium Park. Redmoon Theatre did one of their site-specific pieces, called The Balloon Man, on the Great Lawn. Redmoon infuses dark themes into play for kids
July 25, 2006
BY MISHA DAVENPORT Staff Reporter
Say what you will about Redmoon Theater, but the word "conventional" is unlikely to ever be used in the same sentence.
Who else but Redmoon, known for nonconformist theatrical spectacle, could pull off a children's show that features a song about how everything dies?
The intention behind "The Balloon Man," presented as part of the City of Chicago's weeklong series of free family events, was to create a children's show, though there are a few darker themes and several jokes that will no doubt go over most kids' heads.
It all starts out innocently enough. The Balloon Man (played by newcomer Nick Smaligo), a voiceless clown in a gold lame jacket, brown pants and hat, entertains the crowd by making balloon animals. He pulls one girl (Beatrice, played convincingly by Lindsey Noel Whiting) out of the crowd, brings her up to the stage, begins to make her a balloon animal and is then suddenly hit by a metallic truck outfitted with scaffolding and scientists in lab coats atop it.
"Are you doctors?" she asks.
"We're scientists, that's just like a doctor," says head scientist (and the narrator for much of the show) Brennan Buhl before he and fellow scientist Frank Maugeri haphazardly retrieve the Balloon Man from under the truck.
The scientists don't seem too concerned that they possibly committed clownicide. They explain to Beatrice that they are on the hunt for a mythical beast known as a Picnob (Joe Roche, in a Muppet-like costume). Buhl and the rest of the scientists, accompanied by local acid-folk band the Bitter Tears, quickly launch into a little ditty about how it's a death-filled world (the melody and humor both reminiscent of a They Might Be Giants tune). Initially horrified, Beatrice soon joins in, quickly running through the ABCs of how everything dies. Eventually, the scientists enlist her help in testing out several hypotheses in locating and trapping the beast.
If it all sounds silly and slightly surreal, that's because it is. The show, conceived and directed by Jim Lasko, is an homage of sorts to children's science shows. If Pee-wee Herman had done a science bit on "Pee-wee's Playhouse," it would look something like this. The scientists, led by Buhl (who is quick with a witty remark or improvised comeback), are all extremely likable, mostly for their comedic bumbling.
Younger children might have trouble with some of the show's darker aspects. Another segment on global warming also feels too forced. Still, kids seem to like the cuddly yet elusive Picnob, and it's unlikely that families will ever see anything quite like this again.
And you can't beat the price, even if it does entail having to explain the circle of life on the ride home.
Then I went across the street, grabbed some food to go at Café Bacci, and went back to enjoy a Grant Park Symphony concert of American music. Samuel Barber, Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, that whole crowd.
Today, I went to the Newberry Library book sale. 31 books. It was the last day, so everything was half-off. Still, I went a bit wild in the Collectibles/Art room. I spent the morning buying books, and the afternoon cataloguing them!