Haiku al Fresco
Spring has sprang, so it's time to take to the sidewalks, paths, trails and shores. If you're in the Milwaukee area, I'm sure you have your "go-to" paths, well-beaten or un-. If you're in the west, the state parks are close. If you're in the east, the lakeshore beckons.
Sure, nature is cool. But I'm also fond of a city walk. Get out of your familiar neighborhood and explore someone else's, cracked sidewalks and all. Seek out facades with crazy Sherwin-Williams color schemes. Snap photos of the most creative yard signs. Who's planting what? Is this yard “No-Mow-May,” or is it more "You could sink a 20-foot putt on this immaculately manicured front lawn?"
You might even happen on an ambitious gardener, trowel in hand, and get into a neighborly chat about Better Boys vs. Sungolds vs. Early Girls (tomatoes); to mulch or not to mulch; or even what to do with all that zucchini.
If you do head to the lakeshore, you can commune with the crowds or seek some solitude. That’s not easy on a balmy day, but set your Google destination for the McKinley Park Government Pier. True, it is concrete. There are no trees or grass or even dandelions. But it will take you out to the water without having to wobble on the waves or get your feet wet. And when you have walked out a fair distance, you'll find traces of those who have come before you. They have left marvelous things for you ponder. (Be sure to look in the right lower corner of the first image—I suppose that’s the Krylon version of a 😍).
Aperi Animam
True confession: I do not have a playlist titled “Orlando de Lassus and friends” on my phone. I suspect you don’t either. Sixteenth- and 17th-century choral music (that's before Johann Sebastian Bach for those of you keeping score at home), just doesn’t have that sort of traction on Spotify. But do not miss the chance to hear this music live. Over the years, I’ve seen some dazzling performances of national groups courtesy of Milwaukee’s Early Music Now. And recently, my home town has had the luxury of a early music vocal ensemble all its own.
Aperi Animam is Latin for “open your soul.” They sing this music as it was intended to be heard 400-some years go: in the vocal style of the time (hold the vibrato, please), and in spaces that let the harmonies soar and resonate. Calvary Presbyterian Church is just such a space, and Saturday night the group presented an hour-long concert called “Lacrimae Nostrae: Music for our Tears.” Led by Jackie Willis, the group sang ten pieces, grouped thematically, each described by Willis’s excellent program notes.
For me, the lyrics were almost inconsequential. The slowly shifting harmonies were transporting—a thing in themselves. You could almost visualize the music, an orb hovering over the circle of vocalists in the center of the room, parts shifting slowly, melody lines prevailing then receding into the glowing harmonics, the notes lingering in the air after the final chord faded.
Aperi Animam next performs on September 17, 2023 at All Saints’ Cathedral in a performance called a “Candlelit Compline.”
The Actor’s Life
The theater season is winding down, and stage actors around the country are settling in to their summer jobs—doing Shakespeare or Neil Simon outdoors, or perhaps honing their barista skills. If you’re looking to keep the thee-ah-tah close at hand until September, I suggest a deep dig into the acting life via two new biographies: Jonathan Gillard Daly’s Rough Magic: Scenes from an Actor’s Life and Linda Stephens’ There Is No Backstage: An Actor’s Life.
Having spent some time in the bars where actors go to unwind after a show, I envy the storytelling aplomb of theater folks. Practicing an art form that happens live in front of real people, they have a lot of material work with. But they also have a knack for spinning a yarn (as you might expect—”yarns” are their business), and a savvy insight into the ways of the world and the folks who live there.
Not surprisingly, these two memoirs are filled with great tales (Daly’s chapter on a Peter Pan production from hell, for example), and everyday wisdom from two talented people who have devoted their lives to the craft and art of telling stories.
The Artist’s “Gift”
Gabriel Kahane
Gabriel Kahane will perform his suite of songs, Magnificent Bird, next week in Milwaukee in a concert sponsored by Present Music and Milwaukee Opera Theatre. He’s one of the most thoughtful, innovative musicians working today. And I got to chat with him for a half-hour!
You can read my preview of the concert here. But not all of the conversation found its way into the article. The songs of Magnificent Bird were written during a year-long internet “hiatus” in 2019-20, just as the COVID epidemic was changing the way we interacted with people. And the way artists interacted with audiences. One of the things we talked about was Lewis Hyde’s The Gift, which argues that the relationship between artist and audience be a “gift economy” which is outside the capitalist economy, which means it’s not reducible to a cash value. Here are some of Kahane’s thoughts:
“The Gift helped me to understand the ecosystem of gratitude in which you sing a song for someone and their gratitude or physical presence is enough to restore and rejuvenate your spirit.
This is crucial today for musicians. The internet is subtly teaching us that everything is about scale. That everything can be measured by how many plays you have or how many likes you have or how many followers you have. It turns out that if you organize your life around those incentives, you are on this never-ending, asymptotic approach to never being satisfied: “I have 5000 likes! Oh, now I have 50,000 likes. Well, what if I can get 5 million!?” Whereas, in a gift economy, you realize that these very small exchanges—a letter from a fan, an invitation to sing at someone's wedding because they heard one of your songs on their first date—the kinds of things that put a lump in your throat, and allow you to say, ‘Oh, I've reached two people and that might be enough.’”
Kahane performs with Present Music at Milwaukee’s Jan Serr Studio on May 31 and June 1.
Cez says…Goodbye.
David Cecsarini in UnSilent Night in 2016.
David Cecsarini has directed his last show as Artistic Director of Next Act Theatre. Bill Cain’s God’s Spies was typical Next Act fare—smart, witty, unafraid to ask the big questions. It was also a world premiere, appropriate to a company that thrives on the work of living breathing playwrights (it has produced four plays by Cain).
On stage, he’s played Vince Lombardi, Enrico Caruso, Chico Marx, and a host of imagined people who became quite real through his performances. He’s also directed dozens of shows and designed sound for over a hundred productions. He took the task of institution building quite literally, putting on his hard hat when Next Act built its new facility, which opened in 2011. He leaves a great legacy, producing challenging theater in challenging times. Break a leg, David!
I’m taking next week off so look for the next Friday Five on June 9th.
Have a good two weeks.