Chicago Reader: print issue of September 15, 2016 (Volume 45, Number 49) by Chicago Reader

C H I C A G O ’ S F R E E W E E K LY | K I C K I N G A S S S I N C E 1 9 7 1 | S E P T E M B E R 1 5 , 2 0 1 6

RIOT FEST

Checking in with the activists who want to keep the festival honest, recommending local Mexican food, agonizing over the Misﬁts reunion, binging on NOFX, and more 19

Higher Education

Is an outspoken Northwestern professor a threat to campus safety? 11 Visual Art

Giant inﬂatable bunnies invade Elmhurst! 13

2 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

THIS WEEK

C H I C AG O R E A D E R | S E P T E M B E R 1 5, 2 01 6 | VO LU M E 4 5, N U M B E R 4 9

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EDITOR JAKE MALOOLEY CREATIVE DIRECTOR PAUL JOHN HIGGINS DEPUTY EDITOR, NEWS ROBIN AMER CULTURE EDITOR TAL ROSENBERG DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY DANIELLE A. SCRUGGS FILM EDITOR J.R. JONES MUSIC EDITOR PHILIP MONTORO ASSOCIATE EDITORS KATE SCHMIDT, KEVIN WARWICK, BRIANNA WELLEN SENIOR WRITERS STEVE BOGIRA, MICHAEL MINER, MIKE SULA SENIOR THEATER CRITIC TONY ADLER STAFF WRITERS LEOR GALIL, DEANNA ISAACS, BEN JORAVSKY, AIMEE LEVITT, PETER MARGASAK, JULIA THIEL SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR RYAN SMITH GRAPHIC DESIGNER SUE KWONG MUSIC LISTINGS COORDINATOR LUCA CIMARUSTI EDITORIAL ASSISTANT CASSIDY RYAN CONTRIBUTING WRITERS NOAH BERLATSKY, DERRICK CLIFTON, MATT DE LA PEÑA, MAYA DUKMASOVA, ANNE FORD, ISA GIALLORENZO, JOHN GREENFIELD, JUSTIN HAYFORD, JACK HELBIG, DAN JAKES, BILL MEYER, J.R. NELSON, MARISSA OBERLANDER, LEAH PICKETT, DMITRY SAMAROV, KATE SIERZPUTOWSKI, DAVID WHITEIS, ALBERT WILLIAMS INTERNS SARA COHEN ---------------------------------------------------------------VICE PRESIDENT OF BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT NICKI HOLTZMANN VICE PRESIDENT OF NEW MEDIA GUADALUPE CARRANZA SENIOR ACCOUNT MANAGER EVANGELINE MILLER ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES FABIO CAVALIERI, ARIANA DIAZ, BRIDGET KANE MARKETING AND EVENTS MANAGER BRYAN BURDA DIRECTOR OF DIGITAL JOHN DUNLEVY ADVERTISING COORDINATOR HERMINIA BATTAGLIA CLASSIFIEDS REPRESENTATIVE KRIS DODD ---------------------------------------------------------------DISTRIBUTION CONCERNS distributionissues@chicagoreader.com CHICAGO READER 350 N. ORLEANS, CHICAGO, IL 60654 312-222-6920, CHICAGOREADER.COM

FEATURE

IN THIS ISSUE

RIOT FEST

4 Agenda True West, Harvest Chicago Contemporary Dance Festival, Jonathan Safran Foer, the ﬁlm Maya Angelou: And Still I Rise, and more recommendations

Where to eat around Douglas Park

CITY LIFE 14 Lit Quimby’s celebrates 25 years with—what else?—a book. 14 Lit In The Art of Waiting, Belle Boggs writes on what to expect when you’re not expecting. 16 Movies London Road turns a community’s response to murder into a brilliant musical.

You know what would go great with Riot Fest? Some of Chicago’s best Mexican food. By ERIN OSMON 19

Emo then and now

Five Riot Fest emo acts—Thursday, Tigers Jaw, the Anniversary, Balance & Composure, and Underoath—talk about how the genre’s reputation has evolved along with its sound. By LEOR GALIL 21

7 Chicagoans In her 150th column, Anne Ford reﬂects on her local subjects’ most memorable quotes. 8 Joravsky | Politics Rahm’s ﬂeet facility deal helps the north side more than the south side.

ON THE COVER: PHOTO BY ALISON GREEN.

31 Shows of note Nao, Carl Craig, DJ Earl, Lush, and more 34 The Secret History of Chicago Music George and Gerry Armstrong were Chicago’s ﬁrst family of folk in the 50s and 60s.

FOOD & DRINK

Thirteen thoughts on the Misﬁts reunion

There are so many reasons to be wary. But nobody can argue with the songs! By JAKE AUSTEN 24

9 Higher Education It’s time to shut down for-proﬁt colleges once and for all.

ARTS & CULTURE Is it possible to overdose on NOFX?

This long-running California punk band has made some pretty great records, but maybe don’t listen to all 13 of them in a row. By LUCA CIMARUSTI 26

11 Higher Education Is an outspoken Northwestern professor a threat to campus safety? 12 Dance Mark the 35th anniversary of the MacArthur Fellowships with work from dance-world geniuses. 12 Theater In Ultra American, comic Azhar Usman sings the MuslimAmerican blues.

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MUSIC

The uprising against Riot Fest continues

Activists refuse to be quiet about the festival’s occupation of Douglas Park. By JOHN GREENFIELD 28 13 Visual Art Giant inﬂatable bunnies invade Elmhurst!

37 New review: Steadfast A pair of promising chefs no longer labor in relative obscurity. 40 Bars: Finch Beer Co. & Kitchen The former Breakroom Brewery in Albany Park is new and improved.

CLASSIFIEDS

42 Jobs 42 Apartments & Spaces 43 Marketplace 44 Straight Dope Are genes that correlate with risk-taking behavior more common among migrants? 45 Savage Love Alt-porn star Small Hands oﬀers Donald Trump some handy advice. 46 Early Warnings Maxwell and Mary J. Blige, Against Me!, Twin Peaks, and more upcoming shows 46 Gossip Wolf Beat Kitchen hosts a panel to confront sexual harassment in music, and more music news.

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 3

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Smokey Joe’s Cafe o BRETT BEINER

THEATER

More at chicagoreader.com/ theater A Comedical Tragedy for Mister Punch Punch, the vindictive wife-beating hand puppet, comes to life as a masked, strutting scoundrel in this “comedical tragedy” from the House Theatre of Chicago. So do his traditional friends: not just Judy but the dog, the baby, the clown, the crocodile, and the prostitute Pretty Polly (nicely rescued from racist stereotype hell by playwright Kara Davidson and played by Echaka Agba). Adrian Danzig plays Pietro, the immigrant puppeteer, who must flee the swinging cudgel of a towering constable (the delightful Will Casey) just to eke out daily bread for himself and his sidekick, the urchin Charlotte. Sarah Cartwright is spot-on in the role, sweeping her hair out of her eyes with just the right finger, cocking her shoulders at somehow the perfect Hogarthian angle to hump a too-big bag. Izumi Inaba’s costumes and Jesse Mooney-Bullock’s puppet bodies and masks are finely imagined. —MAX MALLER Through 10/23: Thu-Sat 8 PM (no show Thu 9/15 and 9/22), Sun 7 PM, Chopin Theatre, 1543 W. Division, 773-769-3832, thehousetheatre.com, $15-$35. Girl Jesus: Resurrected and R Back to School! Public House Theatre’s off-night, shoestring musical

about the Christian messiah reborn as a socially maladjusted teenager torn between saving humanity and getting an awesome makeover is not unlike an early John Waters film. Playwright, director, and performer Jessica Wilcox indulges in tastelessness, absurdity, and self-conscious schlock—Girl Jesus needs to shave her armpits and freeze off her warts, the rapping D.A.R.E. instructor cautions high-schoolers to “never get high on your own supply”—and coaxes a few standout performances from her fellow cast members. She also creates a ragged, disjointed, and at times truly inept evening. Yet like the mesmerizing appearances of Waters regular Edith Massey, the flaws burnish the evening’s disarming oddness. It’s a singular experi-

ence that gets awful just right. —JUSTIN HAYFORD Through 9/29: Thu 8 PM, Public House Theatre, 3914 N. Clark, 800650-6449, pubhousetheatre.com, $10. Mamma Mia Directed by Jim R Corti, Paramount Theatre’s production of this Abba-infused classic had

audience members out of their seats and dancing on the night I attended. The show’s splash, glitter, and style do justice to the famed Swedish pop foursome, and everyone in the cast holds their own as a dancing queen. The story follows Sophie, a young woman about to get married who’s devised a scheme meant to find out the identity of her real father. Sophie’s independent and spirited single mom, Donna, a onetime singer played by a vivacious Amy Montgomery, isn’t thrilled with this dredging up of her past flings, but both women learn more about themselves than they bargained for over the course of a madcap wedding weekend. Donna’s best friends and former backup singers, played by Jennifer Knox and Sara Sevigny, are especially delightful and dynamic. —MARISSA OBERLANDER Through 10/30: Wed 1:30 and 7 PM, Thu 7 PM, Fri 8 PM, Sat 3 and 8 PM, Sun 1 and 5:30 AM, Paramount Theatre, 23 E. Galena, Aurora, 630-8966666, paramountaurora.com, $44-$59. The Memory Tour Pivot Arts’ R 90-minute site-specific piece unfolds primarily on an abandoned

floor of a dreary midcentury office building—the same place residents go for their food stamps and Medicaid hearings. Creators Julieanne Ehre and Tanya Palmer stage a series of dislocations (a fraught family dinner in the middle of a gutted office, an intimate confession revealed in an antiseptic stairwell) through which small audiences tour under the guidance of a “memory docent.” The piece’s musings on memory—its mutability, impermanence, inscrutability, and poignancy—aren’t revelatory, and the audio and video-clip accompaniment (delivered via smartphone) adds little. But even with occasionally oversize acting, the production’s unassuming intimacy is refreshing, as are the myriad ways unforced audience interaction turn iconic cultural memories into something truly collective. —JUSTIN HAYFORD

Scarcity Some of the pain in Lucy Thurber’s searing portrait of the sad, drunk, spiritually bankrupt denizens of a working-class town is played for laughs, but that doesn’t make us worry any less about the two children at the center of this story—a talented high school student and his even more talented young sister, played with grace and power by Brendan Meyer and Ada Grey. We have less sympathy for the self-centered adults around them, in part because Thurber’s dialogue can feel forced, but mostly because the performances in this Redtwist Theatre production, directed by Cody Estle, are so uneven. While Jacqueline Grandt is superb as the overworked, underpaid mom, Johnny Garcia and Mark Pracht are less than satisfying as two men vying for her attention. —JACK HELBIG Through 10/9: Thu-Sat 7:30 PM, Sun 3 PM, Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr, 773-7287529, redtwist.org, $30-$35, students and seniors $25-$30.

True West Kudos to actors Kevin R Viol and Joseph Wiens—and to director James Yost and ﬁght chore-

ographer Christina Gorman—for their handling of the harrowing yet comically extreme stage violence in Shattered Globe Theatre’s new production of Sam Shepard’s 1980 play. Viol and Wiens play two brothers—very diﬀerent men bonded by a traumatic shared family history—drunkenly trying to churn out a screenplay for a Hollywood western even though the movie industry has given up on the genre. Smaller, younger, submissive Austin (Viol) is a screenwriter; burly, volatile, dominant Lee (Wiens) is a drifter and part-time thief, recently returned to suburban LA after a mysterious, perhaps mystical sojourn in the Mojave Desert. What once felt potent as a meditation on the decline of America’s “Wild West” heritage today feels as out of date as the portable manual typewriter on which Austin taps out his script. But it’s still catnip for actors, and Viol and Wiens have a ﬁeld day. —ALBERT WILLIAMS Through 10/22: Thu-Sat 8 PM, Sun 3 PM, Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont, 773-975-8150, sgtheatre.org, $15-$35.

Smokey Joe’s Cafe Drury Lane’s Ubu the King Long touted as R current revival of this popular R proto-Dadaist satire only to be jukebox musical anthologizing the revealed now as a prophetical history work of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller is far better than it has to be. Where other, less ambitious directors might be content to let the hit tunes carry the show, director-choreographer Marcia Milgrom Dodge uses each song as the springboard to a fully realized comic vignette or dance sequence. The result is a glorious evening of live music videos, populated with pop icons and stock figures from 50s and 60s pop culture. It helps that she packs the cast with powerful triple threats who know how to find something new in old chestnuts like “On Broadway,” “Jailhouse Rock,” and “Love Potion #9.” Keirsten Hodgens, in particular, really blows the roof off the joint. —JACK HELBIG Through 10/23: Wed 1:30 PM, Thu 1:30 and 8 PM, Fri 8 PM, Sat 5 and 8:30 PM, Sun 2 and 6 PM, Drury Lane Theatre, 100 Drury Lane, Oakbrook Terrace, drurylaneoakbrook. com, $41.60-$57.20.

of the Trump presidency, Alfred Jarry’s 1896 play follows the exploits of a greedy, cowardly, ﬂatulent, stupid piece of id called Ubu, who overthrows the king of Poland, Macbeth style, at the urging of his equally repulsive (if smarter) wife, steals all he can, picks ﬁghts with everybody, and then runs away. Jarry himself performed a version of it with marionettes, but I think he’d have been more impressed with this bunraku-esque treatment from Rough House Theater, devised by the cast and directed by Mike Oleon. Grace Needlman’s cunning and hilarious soft-body designs give us Papa Ubu as a kind of nasty, talking bag, Mama Ubu as a bag with a face-lift, and braces of soldiers ready for slaughter. Black-costumed koken descend into their own subsidiary coups. And the debraining machine was such a hoot that I stopped minding the kazoos. —TONY ADLER Through 10/1:

The Memory Tour o AUSTIN D. OIE

Best bets, recommendations, and notable arts and culture events for the week of September 15

Thu-Sat 7:30 PM, Chopin Theatre, 1543 W. Division, 773-769-3832, roughhousetheater.com, $20.

DANCE R

Belonging A collaborative performance combining art installations and dance. Fri 9/16, 7 PM, Links Hall at Constellation, 3111 N. Western, 773-2810824, linkshall.org, $15.

Annoyance Theatre, 851 W. Belmont, 773697-9693, theannoyance.com, $8. Chris Redd & Liza Treyger R Former Chicagoans return to coheadline a night of stand-up. Fri 9/16,

8 PM, Laugh Factory, 3175 N. Broadway, 773-327-3175, laughfactory.com, $25 plus two-drink minimum.

Foer returns with Here I Am, the chronicle of a crisis within a family in Washington, D.C., set against the backdrop of a much larger crisis in the Middle East. Wed 9/21, 7:30 PM, Music Box, 3733 N. Southport, 773-871-6604, unabridgedbookstore.com, $32.

Pop-Up Poetry Reading: Eve Ewing Poet and sociologist of education Eve Ewing shares her response to the Art Institute’s African and American Indian Art exhibition in verse. Thu 9/15, 6:30 PM, Art Institute of Chicago, 111 S. Michigan, 312-629-6100, artic.edu.

MOVIES

More at chicagoreader.com/movies

o JAMES MORROW

NEW REVIEWS

Harvest Chicago ContempoR rary Dance Festival 2016 Each night features a lineup of works from

diﬀerent contemporary dance companies from across the country, including Aerial Dance Chicago, Open Dance Project, Project 44, and Same Planet Diﬀerent World. 9/16-9/24: Fri-Sat 8 PM, Ruth Page Center for the Arts, 1016 N. Dearborn, 312-337-6543, hccdf.com, $25. New Heights A multimedia perR formance that combines dance and aerial work. Fri 9/16-Sat 9/17: 8 PM, C5 Creative Center, 5066 N. Kimberly, 773-661-4455, createwithnolimits.com, $25.

COMEDY R

I Know What You Sang Last Summer Improv comedy relies on instincts, as do the laughs. Therefore I’m going with my gut: I Know What You Sang Last Summer is funny as hell, not least because the cast of this improvised musical horror-movie spoof have a knack for drumming up topical references, sustaining them, and bringing them to a fulﬁlling conclusion. In a short 60 minutes the players formulate a scenario based on one of four horror subgenres (slasher, creature, demon, or zombie) and a title suggested by the audience. In my case, the show involved a pair of precocious grade-schoolers who wind up lost in a haunted forest while searching for the three-ﬁngered “hoppity-hop”; even better was the group of hapless ghouls who meet their fate at the hands of Rihanna and Drake. It may sound like sophomoric high jinks, but take my word for it: the humor is legit. —MATT DE LA PEÑA Through 10/27: Thu 9:10 PM,

Talk Show Presents Paula ScaR R ggs and Megan Stalter host this weekly show featuring performances by comedians, drag queens, musicians, and more plus a “wildcard” guest performer every month. Open run: third Tuesday of the month, 8 PM, Public House Theatre, 3914 N. Clark, 800-650-6449, pubhousetheatre.com, $10.

The Apostate This SpanishUruguayan satire (2015) about a man struggling to leave his Catholic church in Madrid oﬀers a wry absurdist take on existential crisis without resorting to cliche. Writer-director Federico Veiroj (A Useful Life) keeps the humor ironic and his tousle-haired protagonist (Álvaro Ogalla) steeped in a familiar middle-aged ennui, but his approach is muted and elegant, revealing the hero’s

For more of the best things to do every day of the week, go to chicagoreader. com/agenda. sister-in-law as the author, supposedly a transgender man and an ex-prostitute with HIV. Feuerzeig has gained access to some of Leroy’s most famous fans, including Courtney Love, Gus Van Sant, and Billy Corgan; according to the director, Albert recorded her intimate phone conversations with them, in which she posed either as JT or as his manager, and the calls provide an unnerving soundtrack for the ﬁlm. But in shaping the story from the writer’s point of view, Feuerzeig allows Albert to soften her lies and paint herself as the victim. The documentary ends with her recounting a tragic childhood to justify her manipulations, but by then you can’t help but wonder if this is just another sob story. —LEAH PICKETT R, 110 min. Landmark’s Century Centre The Beatles: Eight Days a Week—The Touring Years Ron Howard takes on the Beatles saga with this documentary feature about their history as a live stage act. The familiar events presented here were covered more thoroughly in the band’s own 11-hour Beatles Anthology

VISUAL ARTS Adds Donna “Housewarming,” each artist featured in this group exhibition contributed an original work along with a piece from his or her private art collection. Opening reception Fri 9/16, 6-9 PM. 9/16-10/22. Sun 1-5 PM, or by appointment. 4223 W. Lake, 312-912-9601, addsdonna.com. The Chicago Publishers Resource Center Political Portrait Slam, a workshop led by illustrator Rachal Duggan that includes a variety of drawing games based on political ﬁgures. Sat 9/17, 7 PM, 858 N. Ashland, chiprc.org, $20. Tom Robinson Gallery “Underwater Vines,” Aron Packer Projects presents a one-night showing of paintings by Rennie Sparks of the Handsome Family. Tue 9/20, 6-9 PM. 2416 W. North, Chicago, 773-227-3144, packergallery.com.

LIT

Eye on India: Vijay Seshadri R In the ﬁrst event of this year’s citywide Eye on India Festival, Vijay

Seshadri reads poetry from his book 3 Sections, followed by a discussion with Matthew Shenoda, associate professor of creative writing at Columbia College. Thu 9/15, 7 PM, Poetry Foundation, 61 W. Superior, 312-787-7070, poetryfoundation. org. Jonathan Safran Foer After an R 11-year hiatus from novel writing,

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The Apostate predicament slowly through stray comments, glances, and eerie cutaway shots. The narrative grows increasingly surreal, but the clues to this are subtle, which challenges one not only to think critically but also to pay attention. The method is well suited to a story about a man learning to think for himself. In Spanish with subtitles. —LEAH PICKETT 80 min. Fri 9/16, 2 and 8 PM; Sat 9/17, 8 PM; Sun 9/18, 5 PM; Mon 9/19, 8:15 PM; Tue 9/20, 6 PM; Wed 9/21, 8:15 PM; and Thu 9/22, 6:15 PM. Gene Siskel Film Center Author: The JT LeRoy Story Directed by Jeff Feuerzeig (The Devil and Daniel Johnston), this documentary is well crafted but suffers from a deeply unsympathetic protagonist: author Laura Albert, who wrote three lionized books under the pseudonym JT LeRoy and duped the literary world by passing off her

(1995), though Howard has dug up some good ancillary concert footage that illustrates the chaos swirling around every show. There’s some interesting new material about the Beatles’ refusal to play before segregated audiences when they ﬁrst arrived in the U.S. in 1964, which probably fed the southern backlash against them two years later. But despite Howard’s emphasis on the musicians’ work lives, there isn’t much detail about the touring operation, because our heroes must be onscreen every moment. Beatlemaniacs will want to check this out for the digitally restored and colorized concert footage; following the narrative proper is a 30-minute edit of the band’s momentous Shea Stadium concert in 1965. With Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. —J.R. JONES 138 min. Thu 9/15, 9:45 PM; Fri 9/16, 1:45, 4:20, 7, and 9:45 PM; Sat 9/17, 1:45, 4:20, and 7 W

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SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 5

AGENDA B PM; Sun 9/18, 4:20 and 9:45 PM; Mon 9/19, 1:45, 4:20, and 9:45 PM; Tue 9/20, 1:45, 4:20, 7, and 9:45 PM; Wed 9/21, 4:20 and 7 PM; and Thu 9/22, 4:20 and 9:45 PM. Music Box Demon Polish writer-director Marcin Wrona unearthed the old Yiddish legend of the dybbuk for this modern tale of a wedding celebration torn apart by demonic possession. The trouble begins when the groom (Itay Tiran) unearths a skeleton on the property he’s excavating for the couple’s new home; he begins to behave oddly at the reception, and as night stretches into morning the madness proves to be contagious. Tonally the ﬁlm recalls Andrzej Żuławski’s shrieking psychodrama Possession (1981), though the key to that movie was its inexplicability and Wrona’s movie, with its conventional horror backstory, is much less perplexing. Tragically, the talented Wrona (The Christening) hanged himself in September 2015, just after debuting this feature at the Gdynia ﬁlm festival. In Polish with subtitles. —J.R. JONES R, 94 min. Fri 9/16-Mon 9/19, 2, 5, 7:15, and 9:40 PM; Tue 9/20, 2, 5, and 9:40 PM; Wed 9/21, 2 and 9:40 PM; and Thu 9/22, 2, 5, 7:15, and 9:40 PM. Music Box Maya Angelou: And Still R I Rise As this spirited documentary shows, the rise of poet,

author, and activist Maya Angelou was anything but meteoric. As a child she survived Jim Crow racism and rape at the hands of her mother’s boyfriend; as a young divorced parent she paid her bills with a calypso act. Angelou enjoyed her first major success at 41, when her first memoir, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, made her a leading intellectual advocate for black Americans. Directors Bob Hercules and Rita Coburn Whack stick to the American Masters format of archival footage, talking heads, and reenactments, but their seamless integration of excerpts from Angelou’s many interviews makes this feel like a master class in life. With Bill Clinton, Oprah Winfrey, Alfre Woodard, and Jules Feiffer. —ANDREA GRONVALL 114 min. Fri 9/16 2, 6, and 8:15 PM; Sat 9/17, 1 and 5:15 PM; Sun 9/18, 3 and 5:15 PM; Mon 9/19, 6 and 8:15 PM; Tue 9/20, 7:45 PM; Wed 9/21, 6 PM; and Thu 9/22, 6 and 8:15 PM. Gene Siskel Film Center

Silicon Cowboys Compaq Computer Corporation may be slipping into the mists of technological history, but as this documentary reminds us, it revolutionized the computer business in the early 80s with its introduction of a fully portable unit. “You cannot get to the iPhone without the original Compaq portable,” explains one talking head (though in the early 80s this “portable” unit weighed 28 pounds, with a leather strap

6 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

Maya Angelou: And Still I Rise on top). Director Jason Cohen interviews founding partners Rod Canion, Jim Harris, and Bill Murto, who quit Texas Instruments for the brave new world of home computing in 1982. The phenomenal success of their maiden product set them on a collision course with IBM’s patent litigators; Compaq survived this legal assault, but by the end of decade the market had caught up with it and an even younger upstart, Dell, had gotten the jump on it with a lower-cost portable. Cohen solicits commentary from a range of tech entrepreneurs and aficionados (including Chris Cantwell, creator of Halt and Catch Fire); their excitement is contagious, fueling a dramatic rise-and-fall business tale. —J.R. JONES 76 min. Fri 9/16, 7:45 PM; Sat 9/17-Sun 9/18, 6 and 7:30 PM; and Tue 9/20-Thu 9/22; 7:45 PM. Facets Cinematheque Snowden Laura Poitras nailed the story of Edward Snowden with her Oscar-winning documentary Citizenfour (2014), some of which was shot in a Hong Kong hotel room as she and journalist Glenn Greenwald first met Snowden, a 29-yearold computer contractor, and learned from him that the National Security Administration secretly and indiscriminately collected Internet and telecommunications data from millions of Americans. Those same events are dramatized in this lengthy biopic, but director Oliver Stone also reaches back into Snowden’s past to pull out one of his own favorite myths—of an American innocent (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) whose patriotism is tested when he learns about our government’s darker deeds. There’s much more here about Snowden’s relationship with his girlfriend (Shailene Woodley) than about the surveillance programs he exposed, but that’s the bargain a filmmaker strikes when he drags a story like this one into the multiplex. With Melissa Leo, Zachary Quinto, Tom Wilkinson, Rhys Ifans, and Nicolas Cage. —J.R. JONES R, 134 min. Block 37, ArcLight, Century 12 and CineArts 6, Cicero Showplace 14, City North 14, Crown Village 18, Ford City, Lake, River East 21, Showplace 14 Galewood Crossings, Showplace ICON, 600 N. Michigan

Those Left Behind A married couple and their daughter try to reconnect in the summer home where the other child, a son, committed suicide 25 years earlier. The daughter (Daphne Zuniga), now single mother to a 16-year-old boy, returns to visit her aging parents (Debra Mooney, Michael Hogan) while grappling with memories of a charmed childhood and its traumatic end. She and her father each blame themselves for the death, which keeps them stuck in the past and estranged from each other. Writer-director Maria Finitzo (In the Game) doesn’t cover much new ground, and her ﬁlm is plodding and formulaic, washed in an unimaginative gray tone. But her script gives real weight and nuance to the characters’ interactions and oﬀers an interesting perspective on how grief alters people’s courses, changing them from who they might otherwise have been. —LEAH PICKETT 102 min. Finitzo attends the screening. Sat 9/17, 8:15 PM. Gene Siskel Film Center

SPECIAL EVENTS Better Day in Every Way: The Films of Rhody Streeter and Tony Ganz “Quirky, idiosyncratic, and occasionally ironic” short documentaries from the 1970s by Rhody Streeter and Tony Ganz. Fri 9/16, 7:30 PM. Nightingale Body and Soul One of the revelations of this 1925 feature by pioneer black filmmaker Oscar Micheaux is that, in contrast to the faltering technique and garbled film syntax of his sound pictures, he was stylistically assured as a silent director. The great Paul Robeson gives a memorable performance as a duplicitous preacher. —JONATHAN ROSENBAUM 104 min. The Chicago Modern Orchestra Project, conducted by Renee Baker, provides live accompaniment. Sun 9/18, noon. Music Box Films by 21 Elementz Film Group Short films by African American student filmmakers. 87 min. Sat 9/17, 8 PM. Chicago Filmmakers Little Mexico Film Festival Short works by local and international filmmakers. Sun 9/18, 8 PM. Comfort Station v

CITY LIFE Chicagoans

This is the 150th installment of Chicagoans by Anne Ford. o DANIELLE A. SCRUGGS

est. 1967

The interviewer

this. It’s on the Internet.’ I said, ‘You carry a computer up your ass?’”

inner labia, you have to take your ﬁnger and move the clit away. It’s just a big eyebrow to me.”

THE GREAT ORAL HISTORIAN Studs Terkel called himself “gabby.” I’m not gabby. Around strangers, I tend to resemble the way Virginia Woolf described herself and her sister at parties: like two deaf-mutes waiting for the funeral to begin. But years ago, I found the remedy—asking other people questions about themselves. If there’s a better way to disguise social anxiety (besides booze), I haven’t found it. That’s how Chicagoans got started. For the 150th installment, here are a few of my favorite lines from this experiment in curiosity. —ANNE FORD

APRIL ABBOTT, EX-MATCHMAKER: “Women would come in and say, ‘Oh, I’m so attractive, I spend so much time on myself, I’m so wellread, and I work out every day,’ and I would want to say, ‘Go fuck yourself.’”

LINDA CASSADY, WHEELCHAIR USER: “I had thought being in a wheelchair was going to be horrible. But the ﬁrst weekend after rehab, I went to a wedding, and I was like, ‘This isn’t that bad. I’m just short.’ Plus I’ve always been kind of lazy and looking for somewhere to sit down.”

Anne Ford

MARTIN BREINER, TUTOR: “One kid said to me, ‘I don’t have to learn

JENNIFER FRENCH, FBI AGENT: “We’re doing surveillance, and unrelated to that, we come across a mob. Not mob like ‘organized crime’; mob like ‘a group of folks.’ Which you have to clarify when you talk about Cicero.” MARTY COUCH, WICCAN: “You don’t need to buy anything at all. The god and goddess are everywhere. I mean, we use an altar we got at Anna’s Linens for $9.99.”

BRYAN BOWDEN, SUBSTITUTE TEACHER: “In the classroom I had, seven kids had their fathers shot to death. It was really hard to be like, ‘Hey, math is important!’” ALBERT EKEHOR, MINISTER AND TAXI DRIVER: “God has instructed me that every church I build, I should have parking spaces in those churches, because I need to set them free from the bondage of parking tickets.” BETTIE LUCIU, WAXER: “If you’re trying to apply the wax to the

OTHMAN AL-ANI, FORMER REFUGEE: “For my security check, they asked me, ‘Do you feel you are in dangerous situation in Iraq?’ It’s the easiest question ever. The person asking me is working in a building inside a building inside a building inside a very secure building. I’m thinking, ‘If we are in a good situation, why are you sitting in here?’” v

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Chicago SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 7

CITY LIFE

Read Ben Joravsky’s columns throughout the week at chicagoreader.com.

Mayor Emanuel wants to move a city ﬂeet facility from the Elston Avenue corridor to Englewood. o CRAGIN SPRING/ FLICKR

POLITICS

What a deal

Rahm’s ﬂeet facility plan helps the north side more than the south side.

By BEN JORAVSKY

n August 28, Mayor Emanuel had one of his infamous “Oh happy day” press conferences, proclaiming great news for the south side. The cause for celebration? He’s moving a fleet of garbage trucks and other city-owned vehicles from North Avenue and the Chicago River to vacant city-owned land at 67th and Wentworth. The north-side land would be sold to some as of yet unselected developer, who will presumably make a fortune building housing and retail on the site. “This announcement is the latest example of our efforts to revitalize the south side,” the mayor said. Or as the Chicago Tribune—in a burst of goodwill for the mayor—put it: “For Emanuel, the move fits into a broader strategy of trying to leverage valuable real estate assets to create economic development in some of the city’s struggling neighborhoods.” Well, folks, it’s not that I don’t automatically believe absolutely everything I see in the Tribune, but I must confess I had my doubts about this deal as I read about the presser. I mean, it’s rare, if ever, that this mayor—or

8 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

his predecessor, for that matter—puts the needs of the south side first in such endeavors. So I wondered: Is Rahm leveraging northside development to benefit Englewood, or is he using Englewood to shield attention from a lucrative handout that’s about to come down the pike for some very fortunate north-side developers? Let’s take a look at what we know right now. The motor vehicle facility—which stores most of the city’s garbage trucks—is squeezed between Wicker Park and Lincoln Park on the banks of the Chicago River. Historically this area’s primarily been filled with factories and warehouses. But in April, Emanuel announced he was planning to accelerate its transformation by phasing out the zoning protection that shelters industry from encroaching residential development. In other words, time for developers to make some real money! Of course, the city’s got to park its garbage trucks somewhere. So the mayor’s proposing to put them at 67th and Wentworth, where Kennedy-King College used to be. The land was cleared in 2010 after Mayor Daley moved the college to 63rd and Halsted.

A steady stream of students, faculty, and other employers—along with a $10 million TIF handout—has drawn development to that new location, including a Whole Foods and a Starbucks. (It wouldn’t be Chicago without a TIF handout.) Just to remind you, a tax increment financing district is an area designated by the city in which property tax dollars that would otherwise go to the schools and other taxing bodies are frozen for up to 24 years. As land in the district increases in value, the higher taxes paid by property owners get funneled to TIF bank accounts instead. The mayor can spend the money on almost anything he wants. I think we could call this a slush fund—but let’s not get distracted. The ﬂeet facility deal involves TIF districts on both ends of town. The facility’s currently located in the North Branch (South) district. And the mayor’s proposing to move it to the 67th and Wentworth district. Interestingly enough, the North Branch TIF was created to help protect existing industries from encroaching residential development. And the Wentworth TIF was intended to spark residential and commercial development in the absence of Kennedy-King. So now the mayor’s ﬂipped the whole thing, with the north side getting housing and retail and the south side getting garbage trucks. This doesn’t speak well of the Planning Department’s ability to follow through on its plans—unless it’s being ironic, as in the John Lennon song, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

The mayor says he’ll compel whoever buys the north-side site to construct a motor vehicle facility on 67th and Wentworth, saving the city from building one itself. My guess is that the asking price on the north side will be cut to cover the costs of building the south-side facility. So some lucky developer will be getting prime real estate at bargain-basement costs. But maybe the mayor will fool me and drive a hard bargain when he sells the north-side land. Another thing you need to know about this venture: Neither the south-side site nor the north-side site pays property taxes, as they’re both owned by the city. But as soon as the developer buys the fleet facility land, extra property tax dollars will pour into the northside TIF. Second Ward alderman Brian Hopkins tells me that the North Branch TIF will thus increase its yield by “about 80 percent” after the ﬂeet facility is sold and developed. This year the North Branch will collect about $7.5 million in property taxes. So we’re likely talking about a future annual yield of at least $14 million. That’s money the mayor—with input from Hopkins—is free to spend on sidewalks, traffic signals, planters—hell, he could pave North Avenue with gold, if he wants. Meanwhile, 67th and Wentworth won’t be getting any TIF yield, because the motor vehicle facility will still be owned by the city. I’m not sure how it will result in many new jobs for Englewood either, because the city’s simply moving the existing jobs at the fleet center to the site. My guess is that most ﬂeet facility workers will drive in and out of Englewood without spending much money in the community—as seems to be the case with the north-side facility. One of the mayor’s aides told the Tribune in late August that he thinks the facility will draw a bank and a dry cleaner to Englewood. I haven’t seen such optimism since Little Orphan Annie. In sum, the north side’s getting upscale residential and commercial development and most likely at least $14 million a year in TIF money. And the south side’s getting garbage trucks, no TIF funds, and, if all goes well, a dry cleaner. Here’s hoping that future mayoral proclamations about this venture are a little more honest. v

ß @joravben

Read Derrick Clifton’s columns throughout the week at chicagoreader.com.

CITY LIFE

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HIGHER EDUCATION

The miseducation of for-proﬁt colleges

ITT Tech and other for-proﬁt schools prey on poor students of color.

By DERRICK CLIFTON

ducation, they say, is the key to opportunity—but not all chances are created equal. ITT Tech, a well-known network of for-proﬁt colleges, suddenly shut down operations last week, affecting roughly 40,000 students at more than 140 campuses nationwide—including at least three in the Chicago area. The decision came after the U.S. Department of Education issued strict sanctions against the company, banning it from admitting students who depend upon federal student aid, the largest source of ITT Tech’s revenue. Department of Education secretary John King Jr. said the move was necessary to protect both taxpayers and students. ITT Tech and other for-proﬁt colleges have increasingly

come under ﬁre from the federal government for allegations of fraud and deceptive marketing—including misleading students about their accreditation, the nature of program offerings, and postgraduation prospects. The Securities and Exchange Commission filed suit against ITT Tech last year for defrauding investors, and attorneys general in at least four states have sued them for predatory lending practices. In addition, the institution’s standing with the Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools was also in jeopardy; the government’s latest sanctions would’ve required ITT Tech to notify students of this development. (And ACICS itself, which credentials many for-profit colleges, could lose its accrediting power soon if federal reg- J

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 9

MASTER OF ARTS/MASTER OF FINE ARTS IN

CITY LIFE

• Work closely with faculty through workshops and individual mentoring.

ulators have their way.) Although ITT Tech only occasionally released demographic information for each of its locations, many of its campuses were mostly populated by black and Hispanic students—which follows a trend for for-profit institutions nationwide. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, black and brown students made up 52 percent of enrollment at two-year for-profit colleges, and 44 percent at four-year for-profit colleges. With ITT’s closure, some graduating students won’t have the satisfaction of attending formal commencement celebrations. And continuing students may now face the daunting prospect of starting all over again at another school, on top of the burden of existing student loan debt. Still, it’s time for a wider crackdown that would altogether eliminate for-profit schools, before more unsuspecting victims can be harmed by their deceptive tactics—especially the students of color who mostly see these institutions as their best option. If being poor and without education is already expensive in America, for-profit colleges take advantage of the situation and make it even worse. ITT’s trade and vocational offerings were marketed as an opportunity for students to move into higher-paying jobs, provide a better life for themselves and their families, and attain their dream of a college degree. But institutions such as ITT Tech care less about the economic and intellectual advancement of their students—let alone making any substantive scholarly contributions within academia—than they do about generating revenue and keeping investors smiling. Now, for students who got cheated, there are few alternatives for moving forward. As the Washington Post notes, ITT Tech students may have the option of transferring credits to other schools, but few other institutions, including other for-profit colleges, are willing to accept those credits. (The displaced students could also apply for a closed-school discharge of their federal student loan debt, but they’d lose all their credits.) Things could get even dicier for students who took out private loans from the institution, which were allegedly offered at high cost and were very likely to end in default. The vast majority of students don’t complete ITT Tech’s programs, as campus brochures disclose an institution-wide completion rate of roughly 36 percent. And students who had little educational attainment and bleak job

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continued from 9

prospects before enrolling (and arguably even after completion) remain stuck with few options and extreme debt they can’t repay. But in a May press release, ITT Tech positioned itself as “contributing to the growth of the nation’s economy” by serving “nontraditional” students who are “older and balancing family obligations with underemployment.” ITT knew exactly what it was doing. High for-profit college enrollment on the part of students of color means they’ll disproportionately deal with the impact of predatory private loans and heavy federal student loan debt. A 2014 report from the Center for Responsible Lending found that African-American and Hispanic students at for-profit schools borrow more money than their peers attending public or private nonproﬁt institutions.

If being poor and without education is already expensive in America, forprofit colleges take advantage of the situation and make it even worse.

With unemployment rates consistently higher for black job seekers than for their white counterparts with the same level of educational attainment—regardless of how well the economy is doing—it’s much less likely they’ll be able to pay down loans, let alone make ends meet. No educational opportunity should pose dangerous risks for people who are willing to work hard, ready to learn, and striving for a more promising future. We’ve already learned that for-profit colleges can’t teach. Now it’s time to teach these scammers a lesson. v

ß @DerrickClifton

ARTS & CULTURE

HIGHER EDUCATION

Who’s afraid of Jacqueline Stevens? o DANIELLE A. SCRUGGS

By DEANNA ISAACS

t ﬁrst glance, the recent banning of political science professor Jacqueline Stevens from the Northwestern University campus looks like a case in point for this dismissive old quip about university faculty squabbles: “The politics are so vicious because the stakes are so small.” The ostensible issue? A class-scheduling meeting in March between Stevens and a colleague, professor and associate department chair Alvin Tillery. Stevens says Tillery blew up, began shouting, ordered her to leave, and slammed the door behind her. Tillery’s version, as described on his Facebook page, is that Stevens “had a break from reality and began to imagine that I was verbally abusing her.” And things took off from there: Stevens ﬁled a complaint about verbal abuse and door slamming, Tillery had a lawyer send Stevens a warning to stop defaming him, and Stevens requested that Northwestern cover her for any ensuing legal costs. That triggered an investigation by an outside consultant that

led Northwestern to conclude that Stevens is a threat to campus safety. On July 28, College of Arts and Sciences dean Adrian Randolph sent Stevens a letter banning her from campus and from any contact with students, and ordering her to undergo a “ﬁtness for duty” evaluation with a doctor of their choosing. The psychiatric interview was scheduled for this week. The charges? According to the dean’s letter, Stevens’s behavior is seen as “uncivil, disruptive, threatening, and disrespectful.” Moreover, the dean continues, “Some colleagues state clearly that they fear you might physically attack them or instigate an attack against them.” No speciﬁc instances are mentioned. Stevens denies threatening anyone with physical violence, and says the investigator hired by Northwestern to see whether she should be covered for legal costs turned out to be the author of an article in the Journal of College and University Law titled “Dealing With Troublesome College Faculty and Staff: Legal and Policy Issues.” She also says her personnel file revealed

that the provost’s office has been plotting with her department to get rid of her since last fall. Why would they want to do that? She thinks it might be because they noticed an article she published last September in the journal Perspectives on Politics criticizing the “militarization” of university boards and pointing to Northwestern’s trustees as a prime example. At the time, Stevens was also spearheading an ultimately successful campaign to stymie the appointment of retired lieutenant general Karl Eikenberry as head of Northwestern’s Buffett Institute for Global Studies, where Stevens heads the Deportation Research Clinic. And then there was the episode a couple of years ago, when she supported the sexual harassment claim of an undergrad against high-proﬁle philosophy professor Peter Ludlow—it ended with him leaving the university. Northwestern has officially refused to comment, but political science department chair S. Sara Monoson—a supporter of the Eikenberry appointment—referred me to her own remarks as quoted on the widely read philos-

ophy blog Leiter Reports, where she suggests that Stevens’s “online campaign to place herself at the center [of] a grand conspiracy” is “illuminating.” According to Monoson, Stevens’s research and political activity “had nothing to do with [her banning] whatsoever.” Tillery, who declined requests for an interview for this story, told the Chronicle of Higher Education that he finds Stevens “creepy.” “Do I think she might shoot me?” Tillery asks rhetorically in the Chronicle story: “Absolutely. It happens all over the country.” In a phone interview last week, Stevens said: “In all this, there’s no specific threat, and no specific allegation of violence. Tillery’s only evidence for his fear that I might shoot him is that it happens all the time. The worst he’s accusing me of is that I misrepresented what he said in a conversation. I dispute that, but [even if it were true] it’s not a basis for banning me. If he really felt I was an imminent threat, he should have called police, filed for a restraining order.” She has posted her own account of the saga online at brandNU.world. Art history professor Stephen Eisenman, a former president of the Northwestern faculty senate, knows Stevens from the Buffett Institute and says she is “collegial, smart, and brave in her willingness to challenge institutions like the U.S. government and the Northwestern administration.” “I never saw any sign of instability or even remotely any threat of violence,” Eisenman says. “It may well be that in her department she rubs people the wrong way. That can happen. You call in a dean and talk it over. But banning from campus—that’s a serious act, and [according to Northwestern’s rules] it can only happen after determination by a shrink of a threat to self or others.” And there’s something important at stake here, Eisenman adds: “Maybe it had nothing to do with Eikenberry. Maybe it had only to do with her department. But it’s natural to suppose that the Eikenberry thing had some role. We don’t know, but anybody looking at it may assume that it did. And they themselves will be afraid to speak out on a major issue for fear of retribution by the administration. That’s why abiding by the rules is crucial. Otherwise academic freedom and free speech on campus is out the window.” v

ß @DeannaIsaacs SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 11

ARTS & CULTURE

Azhar Usman o CRIMSON CAT STUDIOS

THEATER

The Muslim-American blues

By TONY ADLER

zhar Usman’s website quotes Dave Chappelle as calling Usman a “comedian from the future,” and that’s true enough. A big-bearded, believing, yet “secular” Muslim of Indian descent, who puts himself in the “brown” racial “bucket” and affects hip-hop idioms when it suits him (“Yooo . . . whatsup? ISIS in the house!”), Usman is well situated to appeal to just about every segment of America’s postwhite posterity. His often funny, significantly flawed new one-man show at Silk Road Rising looks at ﬁrst glance like a move toward tapping those burgeoning constituencies. In a dozen vignettes (a prologue, an epilogue, and ten “scenes” repurposing some material Usman’s fans may find familiar from his stand-up act), Ultra American: A Patriot Act addresses subjects like racial profiling, alt-right reactionaries, and, particularly, the double consciousness that W.E.B. DuBois identiﬁed as characteristic of oppressed and marginalized African-Americans. Usman offers a raw interpretation of the concept. “Double consciousness is the idea that Black people in America are of two minds, two hearts, constantly at war, feeling pulled in two opposite directions,” he tells us. “One side

12 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

is like: ‘Yo man, I LOVE America. It’s the greatest country on earth.’ . . . But the other side is like: ‘Yo man . . . FUCK AMERICA!’” Then he gives us a look at how double consciousness haunts him as a Muslim in the era of full-body airport scanners. But you quickly come to understand that Usman’s 90 minutes aren’t aimed at the people he presumes to represent. They’re aimed at white folks—who, at least for now, are likely to constitute the lion’s share of his theater audience. Not that he panders, exactly. No, his approach is playfully oppositional. Usman spends lots of time telling his pinker patrons what he supposes they don’t know or will be shocked at. The abovementioned “ISIS in the house” greeting is followed by a joshing disclaimer: “I’m sorry, I know that shit is too sensitive for some of you.” Later, in a scene about what he calls the white civil rights movement, he gets more speciﬁc: “I can tell that some of our white friends may be feeling a bit uncomfortable.” Of course, Usman wouldn’t have much of a show if he didn’t deploy some version of this shtick; so much of Ultra American: A Patriot Act trades on how his looks determine

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the way he’s treated, not just by his fellow citizens but, in an interesting passage set in Amman, Jordan, by would-be ISIS recruiters. The gambit is disingenuous, though, in that it exploits the very stereotypes Usman is ostensibly refuting. It’s hypocritical and condescending—racial profiling lite that never rises to the level of a taunt yet builds into an alienating annoyance, especially inasmuch as the whites in the audience very likely knew what they were getting into when they signed up for an evening with somebody named Azhar Usman. Usman is much more compelling when he leaves us to our thoughts and focuses on his own instead. He does a clever riff on identity vis-a-vis the Superman/Clark Kent conundrum. Another connects the biblical fall from innocence to modern advertising. Where Usman falls down very, very hard is on the subject of Jews. Having grown up in Skokie (“I went to so many bar mitzvahs . . . I was waiting for mine.”), he considers himself an expert. He isn’t. In fact, he makes all the classic blunders of the well-meaning outsider, starting with the declaration “I love Jews”—as if they were pizza or baseball— and touching on such patronizing tropes as that they’re all high-earning professionals. That sort of thing can be rationalized as Usman’s way of gaming ethnic cliches. He pushes on, however, into Elders of Zion territory with comments about how “statistically non-existent” Jews wield “incredible power and inﬂuence” and run the six media companies that—he and online conspiracists say—“own well over 90% of all the mass media in the United States.” Toward the end of Ultra American: A Patriot Act he claims that those six companies have “brainwashed” good Westerners into hating Muslims. Usman cautions us that he’s talking about Zionists, not Jews, but that’s a distinction without a difference—a rhetorical evasion. If I thought Usman was an out-and-out anti-Semite, I’d have put the previous two paragraphs at the top of my review. I’m hoping he’s just a man with uninspected prejudices— the cure for which, obviously, is inspecting them. That would behoove someone who closes his show by professing to love us all very much. v ULTRA AMERICAN: A PATRIOT ACT Through 9/25: Wed-Thu 7:30 PM, Fri 8 PM, Sat-Sun 4 PM, Tue 7:30 PM, Silk Road Rising, 77 W. Washington, 312-857-1234, ultraamerican.org, $25, students $15.

TO CELEBRATE THE 35TH anniversary of the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation’s MacArthur Fellowships, commonly referred to as “genius grants,” the Harris Theater will open its doors Friday for An Evening of Dance With MacArthur Fellows, a free performance that features work from a handful of dance-world geniuses: Merce Cunningham, Mark Morris, Susan Marshall, Kyle Abraham, and Michelle Dorrance. The marquee lineup comprises ﬁve pieces, two more recent of which should have your attention. Abraham’s Dearest Home is a multimedia work in progress that features solos and duets inspired by the choreographer’s interactions with people of different age groups and subcultures. This compositional process is in keeping with Abraham’s penchant for stressing the diversity of humanity, which tends to be revealed in his work through equal parts ﬂuid movement and raw aggression. The finished product is set to debut in fall 2017; the excerpts on this program will be performed by the choreographer’s troupe, Abraham.in.Motion. Dorrance, a tap artist, is known for defying the conventional norms of the form. Boards and Chains, a piece she developed with Nicholas Young, is titled quite literally: on wooden boards topped with thin metal grates, two tap dancers generate a series of syncopated rhythms while manipulating real chains. It will be performed by her company, Dorrance Dance (which returns to Chicago in November). Rounding out the program are Susan Marshall’s Kiss, performed by Hubbard Street Dance Chicago; Merce Cunningham’s Springweather and People, performed by Erin Dowd and Forrest Hersey; and Mark Morris’s Pacific, performed by Mark Morris Dance Group. —MATT DE LA PEÑA AN EVENING OF DANCE WITH MACARTHUR FELLOWS Fri 9/16,

ß @taadler

7:30 PM, Harris Theater, 205 E. Randolph, 312334-7777, harristheaterchicago.org. F

DANCE

Mark Morris Dance Group’s Paciﬁc o PRUDENCE UPTON

Onstage: Geniuses of dance

Momoyo Torimitsu, Somehow I Don’t Feel Comfortable, 2000

VISUAL ART

o COURTESY ELMHURST ART MUSEUM

Balloon mindstate By TAL ROSENBERG

t might blow up, but it won’t go pop.” So goes the refrain that plays throughout hip-hop trio De La Soul’s 1993 album Buhloone Mindstate, a reference to how the group’s music could appeal to a devoted audience but would never translate to popular success. The Elmhurst Art Museum’s latest production, “Blow Up: Inflatable Contemporary Art”—a traveling exhibit that debuted at the Lesher Center for the Arts in Walnut Creek, California—retools that mantra: the artworks blow up (literally) and go pop (ﬁguratively). As the title makes obvious, all the pieces on display are inﬂatable, and the show transparently intends to attract a wide audience. But these efforts aren’t just a bunch of hot air. “For us this show is a natural,” says EAM executive director Jenny Gibbs. “It is accessible on a variety of levels: there’s a lot of joy and fun and pleasure in it, but obviously there’s also a lot of heavy content.” The intellectual weightiness that Gibbs mentions has to do with inflatable art’s sophisticated origins. In the late 60s and early 70s, when the medium “peaked,” according to Gibbs, married artists Christo and JeanneClaude constructed 5,600 Cubicmeter Package, a 280-foot-tall, seven-ton installation that debuted in Kassel, Germany, in 1968 (it can be seen in a video as part of the exhibit). Other early works were similarly nonrepresentational, unlike the bouncy cages and

inflatable rats that most people first think of as inflatable objects. Though inflatable art fell out of fashion for a few decades, it experienced a resurgence during the turn of the century. This time around, however, the pieces acknowledged the often lowbrow status of air-filled forms. San Francisco artist Guy Overfelt contributes a life-size replica of the Trans Am from Smokey and the Bandit; he developed the work in 1999 with the manufacturers of an inflatable monkey on the roof of a car dealership. Brooklyn sculptor Momoyo Torimitsu provides the simultaneously adorable, vibrant, and terrifying Somehow I Don’t Feel Comfortable, in which smiling oversize hot-pink bunny rabbits are intentionally crammed into a tight space,

a commentary on the oppressiveness of both Japanese culture’s obsession with cuteness and the cramped living spaces of contemporary urban Japan. Today, inflatable art tends to be a fusion of these distinct stages of the genre, best represented by a roomful of fairly recent creations by local artist and SAIC professor Claire Ashley. The weirdly misshapen sculptures are truck-size and resemble the asymmetrical forms of early inflatable art, but the fluorescent, childlike coloring (the result of Ashley’s use of spray paint and children’s backpacks as materials) connects the works to the turn-ofthe-century pieces. Arriving right on the heels of a popular show about Playboy magazine’s role in mid-

MIDWEST PREMIERE

century architecture, “Blow Up” is another exhibit meant to draw a broader audience to EAM, whether by Metra or, for Elmhurst residents, by foot. Hopefully there’s a high turnout, if only to offset what will likely be an enormous electrical bill. “It’s not like a balloon where you blow it up, tie it up, and then you leave it.” Gibbs says. “These balloons are all continuously inﬂating. Every work in here has one or more fans working at all times.” v R “BLOW UP: INFLATABLE CONTEMPORARY ART” Through November 27, Elmhurst Art Museum, 150 Cottage Hill Ave., Elmhurst, 630-834-0202, elmhurstartmuseum.org, $8, free for students and those 18 and younger.

ß @talrosenberg

Written by Aaron Posner Directed by Andrew White From the writer that brought you

Stupid F*#king Bird

Now Playing through November 6 Featuring Eddie Jemison of Ocean’s Eleven

lookingglasstheatre.org • 312.337.0665 Lookingglass Theatre Company in the Water Tower Water Works MICHIGAN AVE AT PEARSON

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 13

ARTS & CULTURE Steven Svymbersky at Quimby’s Bookstore, May 1993 o SUN-TIMES ARCHIVES

LIT

Baby fever By AIMEE LEVITT

LIT

After 25 years, Quimby’s is an Ever Evolving Bastion of Freakdom By BRIANNA WELLEN

n September 15, 1991, Steven Svymbersky opened the Wicker Park zine and comic-book shop Quimby’s (named after the local-art mag he’d created six years earlier in Boston) on the corner of Damen and Evergreen. Vegetarian haven Earwax Cafe had opened in the neighborhood just a year earlier, indie coffeehouse Urbis Orbis was going strong, and artists were taking over warehouses in the then run-down part of town. According to Svymbersky, in that environment it took just a few weeks for Quimby’s to attract a following. “People found me right away,” Svymbersky says. “Dan Clowes of Eightball and Chris Ware, they all lived within blocks of the store. They walked in within the first days of our being open and introduced themselves.” Since then Earwax and Urbis Orbis have closed, and Svymbersky has moved to Amsterdam, but Quimby’s has moved into

14 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

a larger location on North Avenue, where it continues to thrive. Svymbersky will be returning to Chicago to discuss the history of zines, comics, and the store itself during the Quimby’s 25th anniversary celebration on Thursday, September 15, complete with videos and photos from the original space and slide shows of independent publications from the 80s and 90s. The event will also feature the debut of Quimbrew, a pale wheat ale created in collaboration with Marz Brewing; a commemorative print by Chris Ware; a special T-shirt designed by author and artist Gabby Schulz; and the release of the book Ever Evolving Bastion of Freakdom: A Quimby’s Bookstore History in Words and Pictures. The oral history features contributions from longtime customers and employees along with people who are now well-known in the industry, such as Anne Elizabeth Moore, Davy Rothbart, and original patrons Clowes and Ware.

“We’re first releasing it in an ashcan edition,” says Liz Mason, who has been a manager at Quimby’s for 15 years. “It’s black and white, it’s pretty scrappy, it’s zine style and saddle stitched—which really just means stapled. We want to have something to tell our story in honor of our anniversary.” Many of those interviewed emphasize how necessary Quimby’s existence was (and is) to the survival of the local zine and comics scene. When Svymbersky first opened up shop, publishers weren’t accepting zines, so there were few places for independent artists to sell their work. His philosophy—one that the store upholds today—was that anything would be accepted on consignment. And for many artists, the exposure paid off. “Jeffrey Brown consigned a hand-bound duct-taped version of Clumsy here, and then it got published by Top Shelf Productions,” Mason says. “The next thing I know he’s appearing on This American Life and got published by Chronicle Books. It’s really amazing to see somebody grow into their style and discover their own voice.” The digital era has made it much easier to find, create, and share work, but Quimby’s still serves as a meeting ground for local emerging artists because of its specialized products, workshops, and events. Current owner Eric Kirsammer is looking forward to the 25th anniversary celebration as a reunion of sorts for the community that has grown around the shop since it opened. He jokes that he’s a terrible businessman—he owns both Quimby’s and Chicago Comics during a time when independent stores are more often shutting down than not. But when he thinks about the future, especially on the cusp of a big anniversary, all he can picture is “Quimby’s eternal.” “As there are fewer independent bookstores,” Kirsammer says, “it makes the ones that remain more vital.” v R QUIMBY’S 25TH ANNIVERSARY Thu 9/15, 7 PM, Quimby’s Bookstore, 1854 W. North, 773-342-0910, quimbys.com. F

ver the past several years, Graywolf Press has developed a knack for publishing young female essayists who write intelligently and frankly about their lives as women, particularly their experiences of the female body and motherhood. Leslie Jamison considered female pain in The Empathy Exams, Eula Biss examined her decision to vaccinate her son in On Immunity, and now in a worthy successor, The Art of Waiting: On Fertility, Medicine, and Motherhood, Belle Boggs delves into the complicated subject of infertility. Like Biss, Boggs came to her subject through a personal quandary: After a few years of trying to start a family, she and her husband, Richard Allen, realized they wouldn’t be able to do it without help. This was distressing for many reasons. “A large part of the pressure and frustration of infertility,” Boggs writes, “is the idea that fertility is normal, natural, and healthy, while infertility is rare and unnatural and means something is wrong with you.” But what kind of help should they seek? And how far should they go? Through a mixture of personal essay, research, and reporting, Boggs explores various facets of infertility: the onset of what is known in Scandinavia as “baby fever” (symptoms range from “a generalized wishing for a child to a delirious, aching sickness”), the many options for medical intervention, the moral and

ß @BriannaWellen

ARTS & CULTURE

Belle Boggs o TRACE RAMSEY

legal tangles of adoption and surrogacy, the terror of waiting to ﬁnd out if a pregnancy is successful, and the possibility that Boggs’s life will not include the child she always imagined. “The desire for a biological child does not fade into ambivalence or deepen into wise acceptance, post-treatment,” Boggs writes. “It only grows stronger.” Boggs is very aware that the various systems at play in Infertility World favor people like her and Allen: married, heterosexual, white, educated, gainfully employed, and insured. They can afford to pay $20,000 for in vitro fertilization, and Boggs can afford to take time off from work for the many doctors’

appointments this requires. Had they decided to adopt, they wouldn’t have run into the legal difficulties gay couples face. It is to Boggs’s inﬁnite credit that The Art of Waiting never descends into whining or anxious uterus-gazing. “The narrative failed,” she writes at one point of a support-group meeting, “because it was about only one thing: becoming pregnant. I needed my story to be more ﬂexible.” Hers is: she makes the problem of infertility palpable, even for someone like me, who has never had the slightest twinge of baby fever. (And why am I so surprised by this? I’ll most likely never go to war, but I’ve still read plenty of books about it without questioning their relevance.) And she does so with a generosity of spirit befitting both the best parents and the best writers. v R THE ART OF WAITING By Belle Boggs (Graywolf); Boggs appears in conversation with Eula Biss Fri 9/16, 7:30 PM, Women & Children First, 5233 N. Clark, 773-769-9299, womenandchildrenfirst.com. F

ß @aimeelevitt

With a Wink and a Nod Cartoonists of the Gilded Age on view through January 8, 2017

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On the street where you live By J.R. JONES

ate in 2006, a truck driver named Steve Wright was arrested in Ipswich, a river town in Suffolk, England, for the murders of five prostitutes who had offered themselves to men along the town’s London Road, near a newly built sports stadium. The usual media circus ensued, sullying the town’s reputation, before Wright was convicted on all counts in February 2008 and sentenced to life in prison. In the weeks leading up to his trial and afterward, experimental playwright Alecky Blythe interviewed the killer’s immediate neighbors, the reporters covering the case, and even a few sex workers, returning to London with more than 100 hours of recordings. She might easily have turned this material into a radio documentary, but instead, collaborating with composer Adam Cork and director Rufus Norris of Britain’s National Theatre, Blythe turned it into a stage musical, London Road, which pre-

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miered in 2011 to great acclaim and has since been adapted to the screen. On paper London Road sounds like Springtime for Hitler—how could a series of such recent and ugly crimes be set to music and produce anything but distaste? Yet onscreen London Road is a commanding, at times hypnotic experience. Every word spoken or sung is drawn verbatim from Blythe’s interview transcriptions, and Cork has structured his quirky melodies around the rhythms of people’s speech, preserving every pause and interjection. The austere classical music, stirring when even a single character is singing, is positively arresting when the characters join together in a Greek chorus, a single person’s remark becoming a catchphrase and then a common sentiment. These choral sequences feed into Blythe’s story of a community learning to speak for itself again, though in the end the neighborhood deﬁnes itself partly through the people it rejects.

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The first ten minutes alone show how masterfully the filmmakers have merged reporting and musical theater. A montage sequence links all the neighbors, the camera panning around each of their living rooms as they watch news reports on TV. Tense strings accompany the broadcasters, and as they recount the chilling details of the unsolved case, their professional cadences rise into melody. The neighbors begin to comment in spoken dialogue, sharing unpleasant memories of how the streetwalkers ruined their block. “I’ve got a 14-year-old girl!” exclaims Julie (Olivia Colman). “I don’t want girls, um, doing what they did in the streets. And they weren’t just getting in people’s cars. They were doing it in the alleyways and everything else.” Gordon (Duncan Wisbey) has nothing but vitriol for the women: “They were foulmouthed slags really, stab you as quick as anything else, wouldn’t they.” Sitting on their couches and speaking to the camera, the neighbors seem pinched and provincial, workaday people defending their modest middle-class lives. Even as these pitiless sentiments are being expressed, Norris cuts to the streets of Ipswich, where Julie, walking to the local Christmas market, introduces a descending, minor-key melody that will spread from person to person: “Everyone is very, very nervous / Um / And very unsure of everything.” In the market square a spinning Santa Claus statue croons “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” and a local radio station is handing out plastic handheld sirens as a promotional gimmick. Sung remarks from other townspeople snake in and out of the main theme: “I think it’s, um, put Ipswich on the map for the wrong reasons, unfortunately,” sings one merchant. Shoppers take sidelong glances at each other, wondering if the killer might be walking among them, and fall into choreographed lines. As the number builds to a climax, Julie’s words unite the shoppers, who chant the word very over and over again before dropping to their knees on nervous. After Steven Wright is apprehended, Norris develops this powerful use of chorus into something even more complex, showing how the neighbors resent the media intrusion but also hang on coverage of the case. Julie, Gordon, and Gordon’s wife react coldly when they emerge from their homes en route to a community meeting and find TV newsman Simon Newton (Michael Shaeffer) preparing to tape a report outside Wright’s house (the front window has been boarded up, and kids have drawn a little demon cartoon on the wood plank). Over

a spooky dub beat, Newton struggles to recite his lines, stumbling again and again on a long sentence involving DNA science and semen (a word he isn’t allowed to use on the air until ten o’clock). Meanwhile, at the community center, the neighbors agree that Wright is the culprit but fear he’ll go free for lack of any physical evidence. Suddenly Newton’s report comes on TV; they all gather to hear him deliver his piece perfectly, then repeat it in chorus. Blythe grew to sympathize with her subjects during the course of her research, and despite the grim subject matter, London Road ends on an upbeat note after Julie and her graying, rotund neighbor Ron (Nick Holder) call a meeting to help the neighborhood get back on its feet. Spring is coming, and they decide to have a block party with a gardening contest for best flower basket. Later in the movie Norris shows them all coming outside to clean up their yards and plant new flowers and greenery. This time Julie introduces a major-key melody, giving a tour of her fenced-in yard and showing off her flowers; the other neighbors chime in with inventories of theirs. They paint the road’s drab cement walls with cheery colors. In the final sequence everyone gets together for the block party, a long line of tables with white plastic tablecloths running up the street. Neighbors dance to Gordon’s three-piece rock band, and London Road is bathed in sunlight. But not everyone is welcome. Vicky (Kate Fleetwood), one of the hookers vilified by the neighbors in the opening sequence, threads her way uneasily through the party, trailing a balloon behind her and collecting salacious glances from the guys in Gordon’s band before finally retreating to a scaffolding some distance away. Blythe never individualizes the streetwalkers as vividly as she does the neighbors, but in the movie’s last third these women begin to emerge from the shadows—in one scene Vicky and two other women huddle on the scaffolding above the community center and harmonize about their dreams of getting clean. Now that the crisis is over, some of the neighbors express more sympathy for the victims, but some are shockingly cold. “I feel sorry for the families, but not them,” says Julia. “They’re better off ten foot under.” The community has bounced back, but only by driving the less fortunate a little farther up the road. v LONDON ROAD ssss Directed by Rufus Norris. 92 min. Fri 9/16-Thu 9/22, Facets Cinematheque, 1517 W. Fullerton, 773-281-4114, facets.org, $10.

ß @JR_Jones

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18 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

RIOT FEST

· Find even more Riot Fest coverage—including a video of the festival’s neighbors speaking their minds—at chicagoreader .com/music

@ Fri-Sun 9/16-9/18, 11 AM-10 PM, Douglas Park, 1401 S. Sacramento, riotfest.org, $84.98-$159.98 single-day pass, $149.98-$159.98 two-day pass, $209.98-$699.98 three-day pass, all ages

La Chaparrita; Jose Rodriguez of Doña Torta; La Casa de Samuel

Where to eat around Douglas Park You know what would go great with Riot Fest? Some of Chicago’s best Mexican food. By ERIN OSMON | PHOTOS BY APRIL ALONSO

espite Pilsen’s claims to the crown, the best Mexican food in Chicago can be found within the confines of Little Village—which makes a trip to Riot Fest a good opportunity to pair its abundance of music with the Douglas Park area’s wealth of restaurants and food vendors. Though the fest doesn’t allow reentry, you can make time to dig in before or after your visit—and in doing so, you’ll directly support the community that’s giving up its regular Sunday futbol matches in order to host your favorite bands.

LA CHAPARRITA GROCERY A taco at La Chaparrita is like a religious experience. The taquero baptizes the tiny shop’s piping hot charola with salty, fatty stew broth before adorning it with tortillas. The white corn blankets become softer and more ﬂavorful as they convene with the blessed griddle, making perfect cradles for expertly seasoned grilled, roasted, and steamed meats sprinkled with onions and cilantro. With the ﬁrst bite, you’ll be born again, and eating any other tacos

will feel like blasphemy. If your server (likely part of the family that runs this momand-pop operation) asks if you want grilled onions, say yes—La Chaparritas’s cebollitas melt in your mouth. Required ﬁllings include tripe (ordered crispy) and al pastor (ordered with cilantro, onions, and pineapple). If you like, add a generous squeeze of cool avocado salsa or smoky, ﬁery salsa roja, a specialty of the shop. Beverages include tepache (spiced, fermented pineapple water) or not-too-sweet horchata.

é 2500 S. Whipple, Fri-Sat 11 AM-11 PM, Sun 11 AM-10 PM TAQUERIA EL MILAGRO If breakfast or early lunch is in order, this is a great spot. The restaurant runs school-cafeteria style, so that you can see everything before you make your choices: a scoop of chilaquiles verde, a chile relleno, or any of a wide variety of moist, steaming tamales (rajas are excellent) with sides of rice, beans, and cabbage salad. Stewed chicken and shredded, stewed pork also rank high on the menu. Eating at Milagro means mingling with the multigenerational families of Little Village (especially on Sunday mornings), and the cheery dining room holds enough large tables to accommodate big groups. And yes, it’s also the place whose neighboring tortille-

ria cranks out the thick, salty tortilla chips and ten-packs of corn and flour tortillas you see at grocery stores. Take some with you to go, fresh off the line. é 3050 W. 26th, Fri-Sun 7 AM-7 PM LA MICHOAKANA GOLDEN This Mexican sweet shop makes all its paletas, ice creams, and fruit gazpachos in-house, and the portions are generous for the price. The ice cream (in flavors such as coconut, Nutella, cucumber, and pineapple) rivals some of the city’s best gelato in texture and taste. The paletas are silky and flavor forward—try the strawberries and cream, made from a fresh sweet cream base with sliced strawberries lining each side. The giant chopped-fruit gazpachos are traditionally served with

sweet-and-tangy chamoy syrup, and you can also get the whole thing sandwiched with ice cream. The shop sells drinks too, among them mangonada—chilled and diced mango with that same syrup and layers of lime juice and chile, served with a straw wrapped in tamarind. é 3125 W. 26th, Fri-Sun 11 AM-10 PM

ings (the Bomba includes breaded steak, sliced sausage, cheese, pineapple, and avocado), you’re unlikely to feel like triﬂing with the handful of fries on the side. But you might want to wash down one of these monsters with a refreshing fruit water, made in-house. é 3331 W. 26th, Fri-Sun 8 AM-9 PM

DOÑA TORTA MEXICAN RESTAURANT The giant tortas at this neighborhood spot are the stuff of Guy Fieri’s dreams. It’s a good thing that he hasn’t discovered them, because a photo of his porcupine coif would look mighty out of place among all the futbol jerseys on the walls of Doña Torta’s small dining room. Given that the sandwiches are nearly as big around as their plates and generously stuffed with fill-

EL FARO Another great breakfast option is this healthy Mexican spot, which has been in the neighborhood for decades. It oﬀers many vegetarian soy-meat options in addition to traditional fare such as carne asada and posole. Thick house-made corn tortillas enhanced by chia seeds make for surprisingly airy quesadillas, and the fresh-pressed juice combinations and light fruit salads will leave you feelJ

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 19

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MUSIC RIOT FEST Where to eat continued from 19 ing energized and ready to brave a festival crowd. é 3936 W. 31st, Fri-Sun 6 AM-10 PM

Geoﬀ Rickly of Thursday o GETTY IMAGES

LA CASA DE SAMUEL A stone’s throw from the park, this popular spot proudly serves exotic meats such as wild boar, alligator, and rattlesnake, which are unusually chewy but not otherwise all that strange. If you’re pinching pennies, it’s better to stick with classics: tacos and quesadillas on homemade tortillas, heaping plates of fajitas, ceviche, and margaritas (in lime, strawberry, mango, and banana). Live mariachi bands often play for Sunday brunch, but plan ahead—the line can get long. é 2834 W. Cermak, Fri-Sat 8 AM-1 AM, Sun 8 AM-11 PM COCULA RESTAURANT This family-owned chain follows a “bigger is better” philosophy, and its original location at California and Cermak would be a ﬁne spot to sip a giant frozen margarita and nosh on chips, salsa, guacamole, and pickled vegetables after a long day in the park. You can pick from standbys such as tacos, tortas, and tostadas as well as giant platillos heaped with seasoned steak and seafood. If you’re up early and need a bit of the hair of the dog, stop in for the full Mexican breakfast menu and have a michelada. Note: The kitchen piles shredded cheese on almost everything, so if that’s not your thing, speak up when you order. é 2200 S. California, Fri-Sat 8 AM-2 AM, Sun 8 AM-midnight

HONORABLE MENTION: LAGUNITAS TAP ROOM

Lagunitas deﬁnitely isn’t locally owned, but the California-based brewer’s Chicago outpost is mere blocks from the Riot Fest grounds. Why not pop in and try a few quality beers? The tap room serves bar food too, but there’s no reason to bother when you could take a short walk and eat the best tacos of your life. é 2607 W. 17th, Fri-Sun noon-9 PM v

ß @ohnoerino

Emo then and now

Five Riot Fest emo acts—Thursday, Tigers Jaw, the Anniversary, Underoath, and Balance & Composure—talk about how the genre’s reputation has evolved along with its sound. By LEOR GALIL

mo has been around long enough to have shed its skin a few times— the melodic, cathartic strain of posthardcore first blossomed in 1985, and it’s continued to evolve since its mainstream breakthrough in the 2000s. Genre-blending Kansas rock band the Anniversary got saddled with the term in the late 90s and early 2000s, at which time guitarist and vocalist Josh Berwanger was a little insulted by it. But the stigma he was responding to has largely dissolved. “When you ask one person who’s maybe ten years younger than me about emo, they think emo is this whole other genre of music,” he says. As the genre has undergone its sea changes, subsequent generations have come to see the word “emo” in different ways. The Anniversary reunited earlier this year, and they’re among many 2016 Riot Fest acts to have influenced the definition of emo. I spoke with a handful of those artists to get a better sense of how emo, its sound,

and its reputation have changed over the decades. Below are edited excerpts of my conversations with Berwanger, Geoff Rickly (who fronts reunited New Jersey posthardcore band Thursday), Brianna Collins (who sings and plays keys in Pennsylvania indie-rock group Tigers Jaw, part of emo’s recent fourth wave), Timothy McTague (who plays guitar in reunited Florida screamo crew Underoath), and Jon Simmons (who fronts Pennsylvania fourth-wave outﬁt Balance & Composure).

GEOFF RICKLY OF THURSDAY

I had heard of posthardcore ﬁrst—I was into Quicksand and Fugazi in high school. My first trip to college at Rutgers, when I was 17 or so, I heard people calling some of the stuff I already liked “emo.” I thought it was really funny they were calling it that—they thought it was kind of funny too—but then they played me some more overtly emo bands like the Promise Ring, and I kind of got what they meant. J

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 21

MUSIC RIOT FEST continued from 21

CASPIAN

MORGXN

THE APPLESEED CAST

10/06

11/13

LYDIA

93XRT WELCOMES...

SAM ROBERTS BAND 01/27

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11/16

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LEWIS DEL MAR 10/13 THE DUSTBOWL REVIVAL 10/14 SUNFLOWER BEAN 10/21 FOY VANCE 10/28

WWW.LH-ST.COM

JOSH BERWANGER OF THE ANNIVERSARY

o ZACH BAUMAN

SKYLAR GREY

to gravitate toward more was in the original vein of emo. I still feel like I’m a novice as far as what is and isn’t—obviously the music that I was listening to that was called “emo” was very different than Rainer Maria. Lately Tigers Jaw has been included in this wave of new emo, which I think is really funny too. When I was in high school, you’d get made fun of— “Oh, you’re so emo.” My older brothers used to call me that. I don’t think it’s a negative thing so much anymore. Any type of label is just an easy way to describe a certain type or idea of music that you’re into. Saying, like, “I like alternative music” versus saying “I like country music.” But it’s more specific than “alternative.” It’s cool for people to be able to say, “I love this new wave of emo music.” It’s interesting, ’cause I feel like the bands themselves aren’t the ones that dictate these labels—it’s put upon them. But if it’s what people want to call it, I don’t think it’s a negative thing, especially because the music now that’s being labeled as “emo” references the original emo music versus the 2004 emo. Which—hey, I still back it. I listen to Take This to Your Grave to this day. But it’s deﬁnitely different.

There were touchstones of what I thought of at the time as indie rock showing up in it. In general the singers’ voices were more plaintive, more sincere, earnest, and whiny. All these things can sound quite derogatory, but they were skirting this ﬁne line of “should be annoying but is sort of touching,” because it was so fresh, so sincere, and new. It didn’t feel like a commodity yet. I saw some bands like Saves the Day and the Get Up Kids getting a lot bigger. In my mind that’s not what we were doing at all. We were very much a part of—to me—a posthardcore tradition. I was really into bands like Orchid and a lot of bands that would play in my basement—like, Planes Mistaken for Stars or Milemarker. I thought we were sort of this heavier thing, what I would call melodic hardcore. Even our name, Thursday, was a sort of plain, anonymous name. A long name was, to me, a hallmark of an emo band. Later on, when all emo bands had days of the week in the titles, that was a hallmark, and I think we’re probably a part of it becoming that way. That commodification of the emo thing— turning emo into the next wave of Hot Topic pop punk, the thing that I hated being associated with—that’s sort of changed again. Now bands, critics, writers, and fans have had this critical reevaluation of emo with the whole revival. The bands that are coming up with the tag “emo” are actually complex, strange, and thoughtful, and to me that resonates a lot more deeply. To see bands like the Hotelier and stuff like that, it’s great for me. I feel like that’s something Thursday was a part of.

CHRISSY & HAWLEY 10/10

THE RURAL ALBERTA ADVANTAGE 11/05 + 11/06

JONATHAN TYLER

SLOW CLUB

11/11

11/15

GUEST

THE DOVE & THE WOLF

SUUNS 09/25 JILL AND KATE 09/28 KORBEE 09/30 KING CHARLES 10/02

o ROSE U.S.

BRIANNA COLLINS OF TIGERS JAW

SOUTHERNCULTUREONTHESKIDS 10/06 THE SUFFERS 10/07 CARSIE BLANTON 10/08 THE BALLROOM THIEVES 10/08

22 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

My first introduction to the term was when I was 14. I was getting into Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and that wave of what was called “emo” at the time. It wasn’t until I was a little older that I actually listened to the bands that were originally considered emo—the Promise Ring and other bands like that. As I got older, I think the music I tended

I’ve always listened to heavy metal and classic rock. [The Anniversary bassist] Jim David was telling me [emo] was more like Mineral and Sunny Day Real Estate, and I’d never listened to those bands. I was kind of insulted by the word at the time. I think the ﬁrst interview I did after 2000’s Designing a Nervous Breakdown came out—they said, “What’s it like being emo?” I was like, “Well, I think it’s kind of like calling someone a pussy, and we don’t like being called pussies.” We never liked being pigeonholed, and I think you can hear that in our music. So for one person to say, “Oh, they’re emo”—I mean, you’re like, “OK, I guess you’re really narrowminded if you think that’s all this is.” Recently, going back and relearning some of these songs, and knowing more of what the genre

MUSIC RIOT FEST was and is, I can hear why people thought that. Also being part of the Vagrant label—all those bands were somewhat more in that emo category. I totally get it. How do I look at it now? It’s like, what part of time do I look at it? Was I into that later stuff that was more mall punk? Most people would be like, “You guys aren’t emo! Emo was like My Chemical Romance and this and that.” And then you’ve got someone else saying, “Oh, you guys are totally emo, you’re like that second wave,” whatever the fuck that means. My opinion on it is, I just don’t care. Whatever people want to call us, we’ve always just kinda said we’re a rock ’n’ roll band.

I don’t think it exists today. There’s these things called “emo nights,” and you go and it’s just a bunch of people playing Spotify playlists on the PA of a bar; they’re playing Underoath, Taking Back Sunday, My Chemical Romance, Brand New. I think the emo-night culture is awesome, but for me, I want to play Pinback’s “Penelope,” songs off of freakin’ Static Prevails and Four Minute Mile. You start playing that in this genre now, half the kids don’t even know what you’re playing. I totally get it, and I don’t ever want to be that salty old dude who’s like, “Fuck all this, these kids don’t know what real emo is.” Emo to me is very genre specific, and it’s very time specific. And I don’t think there’s been an emo record that’s come out since 2005.

TIMOTHY MCTAGUE OF UNDEROATH

PRESENTS

I first heard of emo when I was in middle school. A friend burned me [the Get Up Kids’] Four Minute Mile and Piebald—he didn’t burn it, he recorded it on a cassette. At the time it wasn’t all this genre-splicing, molecularDNA-reconstructing “No, they’re indie,” “No, they’re emo,” “No, they’re too ‘whatever’ to be emo.” If it made you feel like a sad bastard, it was probably emo. Honestly it’s one of my favorite genres to this day. I feel like Underoath and a lot of the emo bands I like—Benton Falls, Appleseed Cast, Piebald, all these bands—have a lot in common. Because that’s how I write. I was actually very influenced by the emo genre and the indie genre, and I really like the sadness of it. The keys are minor, the chords are dissonant, everything clashes, everything feels real. Four Minute Mile, Jimmy Eat World’s Static Prevails and Clarity, those are some of the best indie-emo records ever. I see colors and I see motion, and if a song can make me see colors and motion, I think that’s really where the sweet spot is for me. I try to write every Underoath song in a very similar way. Like, “This is the part where if it was a movie it would all be slow motion and things would be ﬂoating.”

o DERRICK AUSTINSON

o NATHAN WALKER

JON SIMMONS OF BALANCE & COMPOSURE

I got my ﬁrst Saves the Day CD when I was in sixth grade, and I listened to it for a whole year. When I got to middle school I was wearing a Saves the Day shirt and a kid on my bus was like, “Oh, you listen to emo too?” I didn’t know what it was. I said, “I guess I do?” I stopped calling things by genres, but everyone considered us an emo band when we were starting out. I never was into labeling things for what they were. I think all music is emo technically—if it’s got emotion in it, you can call it that. I just like heartfelt music and music that comes from the heart, and that’s what resonates with people. We’re always gonna get called it because we tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves. I think we’re the new emo, compared to the early 2000s—I think it’s cool that kids are associating us with that. I think it’s great how kids recognize the depth of our songs and our lyrics. They consider it emotional music, and I would agree with that. I never would have expected us to be called “emo” when I was growing up. v

ß @imLeor

SEPTEMBER 20 • PARK WEST

For your chance to win tickets and VIP passes to meet the bands courtesy of Coors Light go to one of these locations Thursday, September 15

Friday, September 16

455 W North Ave. 7-8pm

1622 W Belmont Ave. - 8-9pm

Old Town Social

$15 Coors Light and Miller Lite Buckets

Flagship

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Buy tickets at JAMUSA.COM or online at etix.com SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 23

$ PAUL JOHN HIGGINS o JEAN-PIERRE DALBÉRA

MUSIC RIOT FEST

Thirteen thoughts on the Misﬁts reunion

By JAKE AUSTEN

It’s not an original Misﬁts lineup. Former Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo will be on the skins, which is awesome (though he’s probably too good for the Misfits). But whither Arthur Googy? Why not Mr. Jim?

24 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

Joey Image? More realistically, Robo, the iconic Black Flag drummer who played with the Misfits in the early 80s and did a decent job with a 2000s version of the band, would’ve been great. Unless it’s in a graveyard, the Misfits shouldn’t be playing outdoors. Jerry Only is cornball. When I saw the middle-aged Only joyously bellowing Misfits classics in the 90s, he looked like a man so happy to be onstage connecting with fans that he didn’t care how he might tarnish the band’s legacy. That said, during that era the Misfits released doo-wop covers, recorded a version of “Monster Mash,” did a theme song for the New York Rangers, sanctioned Misfits lounge music, got involved in pro wrestling, and appeared in a movie starring both members of Insane Clown Posse. If anyone doubted Danzig’s authorship of the Misfits’ vision, the straight-up goofball nature of the revived band proved it, casting doubts on Only’s claims of creative contributions past

Hatebreeders I’m also worried that after decades of disgust, litigation, and resentment, Danzig and Only will have the kind of bad chemistry that in 1982 might’ve produced some wicked energy but in 2016 will just make them seem disconnected. When Bo Diddley reunited with estranged 1950s guitarist Jody Williams at the Chicago Blues Festival in 2002, they never looked at each other, and the result was sterile and unpleasant. So I’m wary of semiconsensual reunions. Glenn’s voice His powerful weapon is not what it once was, though his recent work as an Elvis impersonator provides some hope that he’ll surprise me.

There are so many reasons to be wary. But nobody can argue with the songs!

I’m not going to see the Misfits reunion. I’m sure the 13-year-old me (or the 23- or even 43-year-old me) would bean current me with a skull for saying this, but it’s tragically true. I’ve spent thousands of hours listening to the Misfits’ sublimely perfect horror-hardcore incantations, and despite the bad blood between front man Glenn Danzig and bassist Jerry Only (who won a bitter legal battle to revive a hokey, Danzig-free version of the band in the mid-90s), I’ve always dreamed of seeing the original lineup reunited. These fiends need to be honored for devising an alternative template for punk rock during the genre’s salad years (1977-1983), establishing Lodi, New Jersey, as the capital of America’s Transylvania. No band represents the underground more perfectly to me, and I love their music six feet deeply. But . . .

with the seemingly humorless Danzig of the past few decades, but I will never doubt his greatness, no matter how many conservative rants or terrible classical compositions I hear. I interviewed him at length once, and I got bullied for not knowing enough about the Spear of Destiny (the weapon that supposedly pierced Christ’s side on the cross) and for not believing that it gave the Nazis magical powers. And I loved every second of it. But attitude? He’s got a fucking attitude. His shenanigans at Fun Fun Fun Fest in Austin in 2011 tarnished the previous attempt at a Misﬁts reunion. So Texas is the reason I’m still skeptical.

and present. That said, Only’s distinctive bass playing is the second-most-important element of the Misfits sound (after Glenn’s howls), so his presence will mean something musically. Doyle’s dreadfulness The best that can be said of the guitar playing of Jerry’s brother Doyle, aka Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, is that it’s so profoundly inept it ensures the band will have some sort of DIY feel. Aesthetically, Doyle was one of the keys to the Misfits’ greatness. Buff and shirtless, looking like a gay-porn A-lister, he was the living comic book character his more gifted bandmates aspired to be (as Danzig especially seemed to prove with his post-Misfits workouts). But at the partial Misfits reunion during 2011’s Riot Fest (when Glenn and Doyle did a few songs), he brought nothing to the musical mausoleum. Glenn being Glenn I am now and forever on Team Glenn. I recognize that it’s hard to reconcile the jubilant genius of the Ed Wood-adoring young Glenn

Sing-alongs That said, my prediction is that Glenn will point the microphone at the audience and let them sing somewhere between 25 percent and all of the lyrics. It could easily end up more akin to the crowd handling Handel at the annual Do-It-Yourself Messiah concerts and less like the anarchic chaos of the Misfits ’83 Michigan public-access debacle/triumph. Receding devilocks Wheezing whoa-oh-ohs But the songs! God damn it, even if Glenn’s voice is shot, Jerry wears a Giants jersey, Doyle strings his guitar wrong, everyone has an onstage tantrum, and Micky Dolenz fills in on drums, none of that will ruin the bloodcurdling brilliance of those magnificent monsterpieces, will it? Fuck it. I probably will go see the Misfits reunion. v

ß @JAKEandRATSO

MARGARET GLASPY

322 W. Armitage • parkwestchicago.com

SPECIAL GUEST:

BAD BAD HATS

THIS TUESDAY & WEDNESDAY! SEPTEMBER 20-21

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BRIAN FALLON & THE CROWES / RYAN BINGHAM – This Tuesday! Sept. 20 • ADAM CONOVER – Oct. 3 • PUDDLES PITY PARTY – Friday, Oct. 7 • TOM ODELL – Oct. 13 MOON TAXI – Friday, Oct. 14 • JAKE HURWITZ & AMIR BLUMENFELD Friday, Oct. 21 • JAMESTOWN REVIVAL Saturday, Oct. 22 • MELISSA ETHERIDGE Oct. 25 • LAPSLEY Nov. 8 JESU / SUN KIL MOON Nov. 13 • SULLY ERNA – Friday, Nov. 18 • MIKE GORDON – Nov. 20 • NEW MASTERSOUNDS & TURKUAZ Friday, Nov. 25 • MICHAEL KIWANUKA Saturday, Dec.3

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OPETH – Oct. 9 • INGRID MICHAELSON –Oct. 11 • CATFISH & THE BOTTLEMEN –Oct. 12 • RAE SREMMURD –Oct. 13 • M83 –Oct. 20 • TEGAN & SARA –Oct. 21 JON BELLION –Friday, Oct. 28 • PURITY RING –Saturday, Oct. 29 • GOOD CHARLOTTE – Friday, Nov. 4 • ELLE KING – Nov. 5 • THE NAKED AND FAMOUS – Nov. 6 • FOALS – Nov. 9 REBELUTION –Saturday, Nov. 12 • UMPHREY’S MCGEE – Dec. 29 • PATTI SMITH –Friday, Dec. 30 • THE DEVIL MAKES THREE – Saturday, Jan. 21 • PASSENGER –Friday, Mar. 17

BUY TICKETS AT SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 25

MUSIC RIOT FEST

SEPTEMBER 15TH

THE SPECIALS

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ENANITOS VERDES RIOT FEST AFTERSHOW

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o SUNSHINE TUCKER; ILLUSTRATION: SUE KWONG

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W/ DEATH ANGEL, DEVIL LAND

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W / GABY LUNA, THE PONDERERS

WWW.CONCORDMUSICHALL.COM 2047 N. MILWAUKEE | 773.570.4000 26 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

Is it possible to overdose on NOFX? This long-running California punk band has made some pretty great records, but maybe don’t listen to all 13 of them in a row. By LUCA CIMARUSTI

his spring, the Reader got an advance copy of NOFX: The Hepatitis Bathtub and Other Stories, written by the band with Jeff Alulis (aka lateperiod Dead Kennedys singer Jeff Penalty). It wound up in my hands, so of course I read the whole thing. The book is a memoir a la Motley Crue’s The Dirt, and it details every up and down the popular California band has gone through since its inception in (holy shit) 1983. It’s a pretty entertaining read, diving into harrowing tales of desperation and addiction, explaining a wildly violent hardcore scene, and chronicling the struggles of a bunch of grimy punks in a pre-Nirvana world. The book also details NOFX’s incredible successes, and how their DIY approach (not relying on radio play or major-label support) has managed to make them very wealthy. The big question I had by the end of The Hepatitis Bathtub was “Is NOFX any good?” I mean, I dug the band when I was 14 or 15, but I haven’t given them a whole lot of thought since 1999. The best way to answer that question deﬁnitively, I decided, would be to listen to all 13 of their studio albums in a row. I can’t imagine what I was thinking.

Liberal Animation (1988) Not a

bad start, all things considered. I ﬁnd a lot of things about this record bothersome (the nonstop complaining about vegetarians, the tongue-incheek ripoﬀ of Zep’s “Black Dog,” the fucking ska part), but it’s mostly the kind of fast, snotty hardcore-ish punk I aspired to play when I was in junior high.

S&M Airlines (1989) Oh no,

the dreaded sophomore slump. This album is very

MUSIC RIOT FEST

terrible. Sloppy punk rock with a baﬄing edge of hairmetal shredding, topped oﬀ with some of the most brutally out-of-key vocals I’ve ever heard. The lowest point might be the closing cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way.” Woof.

sound of NOFX growing up: thoughtful lyrical content, experimentation with genres other than pop punk and ska, and really great melodies. Who knew I’d get so much enjoyment out of a record whose cover art is a painting of a guy ﬁngerbanging a sheep?

Ribbed (1991)

Also a painful listen. It’s similar to its predecessor, but packed with cringe-inducingly childish lyrics and straight-up joke songs, including one where front man Fat Mike explains at length how much he hates taking showers.

White Trash, Two Heebs and a Bean (1992)

A lot of NOFX heads apparently consider this a classic, but I’m having a very hard time with it. I mean, it’s leaps and bounds better than Ribbed, but it’s by no means great. Still present is the weird 80s-metal vibe, and the album is seriously half joke songs—including a lounge cover of Minor Threat’s “Straight Edge” with guitarist El Hefe doing a Louis Armstrong impression.

Punk in Drublic (1994)

Whoah, what happened here? Suddenly NOFX got good. For the ﬁrst time in this ridiculous undertaking, I’m not totally hating my life.

Heavy Petting Zoo (1996)

Deﬁnitely a turning point for the band. This is the

So Long and Thanks for All the Shoes (1997) Dude,

maybe this is the NOFX talking, but I’m pretty sure NOFX rules. This is a legitimately excellent 90s skate-punk record, front to back. I even kind of dig the obligatory ska track.

Pump Up the Valuum (2000)

Oh no. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but I didn’t think it was going to happen so soon: all this shit is starting to blend together. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that I’ve listened to a decade’s worth of warpspeed skate punk in three hours. I think NOFX stopped trying.

The War on Errorism (2003)

The most ofits-time NOFX record, The War on Errorism is largely about keeping George W. Bush from winning a second term. As someone who’s staring down the barrel of a possible Trump presidency, though, I can’t even begin to give a fuck about this thing.

Wolves in Wolves’ Clothing (2006) I am

starting to resent NOFX. The opening track of this record, “60%,” comes right out and says that the band doesn’t really care, and it shows. The whole thing is a snooze—and maybe I’m thinking about it too much, but I’m actually sort of insulted. Oh no, NOFX is hurting my feelings now.

OCT 15

Coaster (2009)

Remember back in 1996, when I said that NOFX had grown up? Well, they’ve apparently put out so many records that we get to hear them growing up twice. Maybe my brain has been poisoned by listening to so much of this shit, but I think I might really like this one. It’s kind of dark and “mature,” and the songs are pretty sweet.

NOV 12

Self Entitled (2012)

NOV 19

My brain has oﬃcially gone numb. I have no idea what’s even happening on this one. I’m pretty sure it sounds like NOFX, though.

First Ditch Eﬀort (2016)

Judging by the lyrics on this album, which drops in October, Fat Mike has gotten sober—and he’s very open about it. Good for him, but when was the last time you heard a good post-sobriety record? Remember Generation Swine? v

NOV 3

ß @LucaCimarusti SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 27

MUSIC RIOT FEST 4544 N LINCOLN AVENUE, CHICAGO IL OLDTOWNSCHOOL.ORG • 773.728.6000

Concerned Citizens of Riot Fest in Douglas Park meet at Freedom Square on August 2.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 16 7 & 10PM

Calexico

o JOHN GREENFIELD

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 17 8PM

Iain Matthews and Plainsong featuring Andy Roberts

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 18 10:30AM

The Dreamtree Shakers Record Release Party Kids' concert

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22 7:30PM

Fifth House and Baladino present Nedudim THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22 8PM

The Pines In Szold Hall

with special guests Jim White & Paul Fonfara

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 8PM

Mike Peters of the Alarm

The Spirit of '86 in 2016 • In Szold Hall

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 2 10AM & 1PM

Dan Zanes Song Gusto Hour

Kids' concert

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 7 7PM

9th Annual Chicago Battle of the Jug Bands WORLD MUSIC FESTIVAL 2016 9/21 Rajab Suleiman & Kithara On tour as part of Center Stage World Music Wednesday 9/23 Doña Onete / Silvia / Manrique & Neusa Sauer with Luciano Antonio

ACROSS THE STREET IN SZOLD HALL 4545 N LINCOLN AVENUE, CHICAGO IL

9/16 Global Dance Party: Chicago Cajun Aces 9/24 The Gentle Shepherd: A Scottish Folk Opera 9/25 Jim Kweskin / Geoﬀ Muldaur 9/30 Global Dance Party: West Indian Folk Dance Company

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9/28 Rajasthan Josh 10/5 Perujazz

28 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

The uprising against Riot Fest continues

Activists still won’t be quiet about the festival’s occupation of Douglas Park.

By JOHN GREENFIELD

n August 2 at Freedom Square, a tent city raised across the street from the Chicago Police Department’s Homan Square facility as a protest against police brutality, Concerned Citizens of Riot Fest in Douglas Park held an alfresco strategy session. Local resident Sharaya Tindal outlined the group’s grievances against the festival, which debuted in the west-side green space in September 2015, for 16 or so people gathered on folding chairs under a canopy. As I reported in May, Concerned Citizens formed last year when Riot Fest relocated to Douglas Park from Humboldt Park following backlash from Humboldt residents who claimed its organizers failed to adequately repair turf damage. Concerned Citizens argued that the mostly African-American and Latino residents of neighboring North Lawndale and Little Village had been given little to no say in the matter.

At Freedom Square, Tindal discussed how foot traffic from 135,000 attendees at the 2015 festival damaged Douglas Park so badly that much of its south end was fenced off for repairs from late September to late November. Mayor Emanuel, the local aldermen, and the Chicago Park District (as well as Riot Fest itself, of course) had promised the event would bring big economic beneﬁts to the communities. But Tindal claimed that the roughly 150 temporary jobs created didn’t make a dent in the area’s unemployment problem, that high vendor fees shut out small businesses, and that neighborhood retail strips saw little increase in sales during the festival weekend. “Meanwhile the city spends extra money on transit, extra money on Streets & San, and extra money on police, and Riot Fest pays nothing for it,” Tindal said. “So we pay to get overpoliced, underprotected, and shut out.” From a camp seat, Damon Williams, codirector of the #LetUsBreathe Collective

(which is leading the Freedom Square occupation), voiced solidarity for Concerned Citizens in their efforts to oust the fest from the park. “We’re here because people are being tortured,” he said. “We’re here because 70 percent of [young men in] the community have felonies. It’s the most closings of public schools. So for people to be having something literally called a ‘riot’ here . . . ” “Thank you,” said Tindal. “[What] poor taste. How disrespectful. How dare you, when people are dying. When our community has not recovered from the last riot in ’68. How dare you bring your concert, your merriment, your laugh riot to our broken community.” Not everyone in the area shares that sentiment. Some locals say they appreciate that Riot Fest donates to local community organizations. Youth football coach Charles Rice told me he sees the fest as “beneficial” and said he was grateful the company provided $900 worth of beverages to the league’s awards dinner. Riot Fest also donated Thanksgiving turkeys, held a Christmas toy drive, and organized a free soccer clinic for neighborhood kids with players from the Chicago Fire, among other things. “I believe it’s a positive,” says Paul Norrington, a North Lawndale retiree who helped lead an unsuccessful effort to bring the Obama presidential library to the neighborhood. He adds that the fest will raise the proﬁle of the community and spur investment. “Last time more than 130,000 people came to the area, many of whom had never been to North Lawndale or possibly even heard of it.” (Tindal, on the other hand, doesn’t see this influx as a good thing. She recently tweeted to rapper and 2016 festival performer Nas that Riot Fest is “a racist concert meant to gentrify a black community.”) In a statement to the Reader earlier this month, Riot Fest pointed to several initiatives meant to ensure the event “has a positive effect on both Douglas Park and its neighbors.” To begin with, the company paid a $225,000 permit fee for the 2015 event into the Chicago Park District’s general fund, and it will pay a similar fee this year. In response to a Freedom of Information Act request in early August, a Park District representative said that this permit fee goes into the department’s general operating fund. She

MUSIC RIOT FEST didn’t say whether any of it was earmarked for Douglas Park, which has a $511,782 direct operating budget. At the time of the FOIA request, the Park District had not yet closed a contract with Riot Fest for 2016. In addition to the 2015 fee, the festival has spent more than $192,000 on park repairs and improvements, and by the time this year’s event rolls around it will have hosted three Douglas Park beautification volunteer work days. Riot Fest says improvements to the green space have included mulching, leveling low-lying areas, weeding, power washing, laying 30,000 square feet of sod, and grading, aerating, and seeding all fields. The fest also held job fairs for residents of the communities surrounding Douglas Park—all positions pay $12 per hour. On the same days, the company set up a tent in the park where people who live within four blocks could register for free tickets. (A state ID and two pieces of mail were required for address verification.) There will have been three such days this year before Riot Fest begins. These efforts could be seen as answers to activists’ complaints that Riot Fest shuts out people in the neighborhoods that host it. But Concerned Citizens’ Sara Heymann (who, like Tindal, lives near the park) told me her group isn’t impressed. When I spoke to her this spring, she claimed that the closure of soccer and baseball fields last year resulted in the Park District losing significant revenue— she said these facilities bring in $40,000 to $50,000 in permit fees annually. For my article in May, I confirmed the fall 2015 field closures with Park District officials but failed to run the $40,000-$50,000 figure by the department. While I didn’t state Concerned Citizens’ claim as fact, I apologize for this oversight. Park District spokeswoman Jessica Maxey-Faulkner didn’t respond to a more recent query about the accuracy of this number. A handout distributed at the Freedom Square meeting in August includes two other claims the Park District says are inaccurate. It states that “Douglas Park lost nearly $40,000 in revenue from permits” due to field damage and that “Douglas Park is no longer issuing permits to use the natural turf baseball or soccer fields for the fall 2016 season.” Heymann said the handout was a group effort by Concerned Citizens members. Maxey-Faulkner indicated that the agency did, in fact, lose some revenue last fall due to Riot Fest-related wear and tear. However, she said the “nearly $40,000” figure was “way off base” because the cost of renting the J

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continued from 29 fields ranges from free to, on rare occasions, $55 per hour for adult for-profit groups. “The average rental income for the grass fields typically would not exceed $500 during that [twoand-a-half-month] time period,” she said. Maxey-Faulkner added that “Douglas Park has not discontinued the issuance of permits for the grass fields this season.” After I shared Maxey-Faulkner’s statement with Heymann, who’s a member of the Douglas Park Advisory Council, she and a fellow DPAC member went over their notes from a February 2016 advisory council meeting and confirmed that someone there—they’re not sure who—stated that the fields bring in $40,000 to $50,000 per year. Heymann conceded, “I possibly did mishear how much [revenue] was lost.” But Heymann said that, after July’s DPAC meeting, she asked Douglas Park supervisor Angela Sallis whether permits would be issued for the grass fields this fall, and Sallis told her they would not be. Heymann said the field closures caused more than just financial harm—neighborhood youth weren’t able to use their local playing fields. She also argued that Riot Fest had done a half-assed job of repairing the turf damage. She provided photos of a section of southern Douglas Park that was fenced off between late May and early July for resodding. The images suggest that some of the new grass died before all the sod pieces could grow together. Heymann added that at a March meeting of the Douglas Park Advisory Council, Riot Fest and 24th Ward alderman Michael Scott, a festival booster, agreed to host a vendor workshop for local businesses and send the council all the information about becoming a vendor. “Neither happened,” Heymann said. “That’s not the case,” responded Scott, explaining that a community meeting for vendors took place on the evening of July 7 at Nichols Tower, just north of Freedom Square. “It was not as well attended as I would have liked it to be,” he acknowledged. “I sent the information to the [Douglas Park Advisory Council] president and vice president. I wasn’t going to send it to every member.” A Riot Fest spokesperson added that, while the usual vendor fee is roughly $3,000, for the first time this year the company is waiving the fee for businesses in the neighboring 12th, 24th, and 28th Wards. (Local vendors must still pay rental fees to the festival for equipment.) The spokesperson did not immediately disclose how many neighborhood businesses have applied for spots at the fest.

Informed that there had in fact been a vendor workshop, Heymann remained skeptical. “I’m wondering if they told a few select businesses about this to make it look like they had community engagement,” she said. She also suspects that only certain residents were informed of the opportunity to register for free Riot Fest tickets. Heymann added that she’s seen almost no mention of these initiatives on social media, though she follows the La Villita Facebook page as well as accounts maintained by Alderman Scott, 12th Ward alderman George Cardenas (who didn’t respond to a request for comment), the Little Village Chamber of Com-

“I hope the community gets benefits, but if no one knows about them, then what’s the point?” —Sara Heymann of Concerned Citizens of Riot Fest in Douglas Park

merce, the Cermak Chamber of Commerce, and the North Lawndale Community Coordinating Council. “I hope the community gets beneﬁts, but if no one knows about them, then what’s the point?” Heymann reiterated Concerned Citizens’ grievances against Riot Fest from a socialjustice standpoint, and said the group started a petition drive against the event this summer—it’s collected between 400 and 500 signatures so far. But she left the door open to acceptance of the festival. “If they spent the big money that the park would need to handle this event—adding a sprinkler system, a new drainage system, new engineered soil and grass that can handle high-impact use, and made it so that the park was not closed for the entire fall . . . I would rethink my position on Riot Fest.” v

John Greenfield edits the transportation news website Streetsblog Chicago. ß @greenfieldjohn

MUSIC

Recommended and notable shows and critics’ insights for the week of September 15 b

THURSDAY15

ALL AGES

material, all spun as one continuous mix by Craig himself. —TAL ROSENBERG

One of the most arresting qualities about bossa nova pioneer João Gilberto is how intimate and close to the mike his aspirated voice sounds on albums—each breath, whisper, and cloud of sibilance is an inextricable ingredient of his delivery. Those records were all made in professional studios, but in some ways they inadvertently presaged the indie bedroom-recording revolution. On last year’s self-released -11, Ricardo Dias Gomes seems to bridge those two worlds. In recent years he’s played bass (and occasional keyboard) for Caetano Veloso’s lean rock band, backing the Brazilian legend on a series of records that rank among the best in his storied career. With a sparse but aggressive sound, those albums were clearly inspired by indie rock. But -11, which features just voice and acoustic guitar, is beautifully delicate and quiet, an update of Gilberto’s work. The record alternates between gorgeous ballads sung in an intimate bossa nova cadence and abstract instrumentals that feel built around tiny kernels of sound. “Voei” reminds me of the music created by Caetano’s son Moreno Veloso, its almost claustrophobic closeness accompanied by the sweet tickle of acoustic-guitar arpeggios and warm, undulating electric piano. “Alonga” conjures a diﬀerent kind of proximity, with the hummed melodic shapes, exhalations, and simple electric bass lines creating a sort of levitation for Gomes’s fragile, nasal voice. On the humorously titled “Some Ludicrous Self-Indulgence to Develop” he messes with a kind of denatured electro-funk, while the closing track, “Last Fry (Pra Onde Aponta),” traffics in abrasive noises. But by and large Gomes keeps everything small, though there’s nothing diminutive about the music’s impact. —PETER MARGASAK

PICK OF THE WEEK

Nao levitates her luminous, soulful voice with the power of electronics and funk o SONY

NAO

Mon 9/19, 8 PM, Lincoln Hall, 2424 N. Lincoln, $20, $18 in advance. 18+

FRIDAY16 Carl Craig Olin & Phillip Stone open. 10 PM, Smart Bar, 3730 N. Clark, $20, $15 in advance.

THE BREEZY, LUMINOUS singing of Neo Jessica Joshua (long for “Nao”) is the easiest thing to praise on her debut full-length, For All We Know (Little Tokyo). The British singer-songwriter is so delicate in the positioning of her lilting R&B melodies—layering one atop another with the deliberation of a card stacker—that she’s able to whisk you away with the persuasion of her soulful voice alone. But what really makes Nao levitate above middling R&B artists is her incorporation of electronic and funk elements: on one track she might holler back to 70s-era Casablanca space funk (“Get to Know Ya”) while on another she’ll build to a breakdown reminiscent of longtime hot-shit electronic-rock purveyors Ratatat (“In the Morning”). The album’s staccato rhythms are often the most foreboding and fascinating element, no better heard than on the single “Fool to Love,” whose stalking pulse lures along a chorus of swirling, descending synth sounds, only occasionally halting to recalibrate its strut, ﬁnd the line again, and restart. —KEVIN WARWICK

Detroit techno was born in the 1980s, but its creative heyday didn’t come till the 90s, and of this second generation of artists, no one (with the possible exception of Richie Hawtin) did more to expand the genre’s musical and geographical reach than Carl Craig. Though he collaborated early on with first-generation techno artist Derrick May, Craig grew famous through his own productions, released under both his real name and numerous aliases— prominently 69, BFC, Innerzone Orchestra, Paperclip People, and Psyche. He’s also the founder and current head of Planet E Communications, the Detroit label that puts out not only Craig’s music but also the work of many other big-name ﬁgures in the city’s techno scene (of particular note is Moodymann, whose work is much diﬀerent though no less influential than Craig’s). And as a DJ, Craig is as storied and experienced as they come. As a primer check out 2008’s Sessions (Planet E), a careerspanning two-disc overview of his original and remix

o ALEXANDER RICHTER

Ricardo Dias Gomes Flux Bikes open. 8 PM, Experimental Sound Studio, 5925 N. Ravenswood, $10, $8 members. b

DJ Earl River Tiber headlines. 9 PM, East Room, 2354 N. Milwaukee, $7.

Incomparable footwork collective Teklife launched its own eponymous label earlier this year when it released Afterlife, a posthumous compilation of unreleased material by cofounder DJ Rashad. Chicagoan turned New Yorker DJ Earl had the honor (and surely felt the pressure) of putting out the label’s second release, August’s Open Your Eyes. It evokes the core of Teklife not just through the music—with its alternatively claustrophobic and winning percussive punch—but through Earl’s inclusion of other producers on every track, carrying on the collaborative spirit that’s vital to both the Teklife collective and the entirety of footwork as a culture. Some of the best results come out of partnerships with artists who operate outside of footwork’s gravitational field: experimental R&B beat maker Suzi Analogue helps create an inviting air on “All INN,” while Daniel Lopatin (aka Oneohtrix Point Never) pops up on three tracks alongside Chicago-reared producer MoonDoctor. The shuddering, highpitched synth squeals that open “Smoking Reggie” and balance out Earl’s battle-ready beats tingle with the nervy energy of Lopatin’s retro-sampling material. —LEOR GALIL

Rooms Cecil open. 8:30 PM, Constellation, 3111 N. Western, $10. 18+

On their new self-released album, Vigil, Chicago piano trio Rooms take a huge leap forward: their bold experimentation both live and on their earlier releases has paid serious dividends. Pianist Dan Pierson, drummer Matt Carroll, and bassist Charlie Kirchen still explore sound as a sculptural element, but they balance that predilection with gorgeous music. The new record opens with a computer device called a monome that synthesizes the trio’s sounds acoustically in real time, giving them an abstract feel a bit like an ambient backwardtape experiment. But there’s a much greater sense of serenity, with individual components suggesting motion in varied directions. Rooms use the device on a couple of pieces, meshing processed sounds with live performance—on “Monolith” elec- J

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 31

MUSIC

Haymarket Opera’s production of Haydn’s The Desert Island o TOPHER ALEXANDER

continued from 31

tronic effects interrupt an expansive, loping groove. Otherwise the new album features the group in an acoustic setting, interpreting Anton Webern’s serialist ditty “Children’s Piece for Piano” and crafting their own “Little Martin” with a pop concision that would suit the Bad Plus. Throughout Vigil they move between disruptive rhythmic tactics—Pierson’s lines are punctured with wonderfully rumbling, sprawling gestures—and simpatico performances that deliver a stunning unified sound. In a deep improvised-music scene, Rooms are clearly emerging as a significant new force. —PETER MARGASAK

SATURDAY17 Haymarket Opera perform Haydn’s The Desert Island See also Sunday. 5 PM, Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport, $15-$67. b The immensely proliﬁc Franz Joseph Haydn wrote more than 100 symphonies, nearly 70 string quartets, and a slew of other works—including a couple of gorgeous oratorios—many of which are still performed. His 17 operas, not so much. This weekend, however, those with a taste for musical time travel are in store for a treat: Haymarket Opera Company presents two performances of Haydn’s opera L’isola disabitata (The Desert Island). Written in 1779, with a libretto by Haydn’s onetime neighbor Pietro Metastasio, it’s the story of a pair of shipwrecked sisters and a husband kidnapped by pirates. Haydn’s score will be played on classical instruments by the Haymarket orchestra, conducted by Craig Trompeter, with Jory Vinikour on fortepiano. The cast features soprano Kimberly McCord and mezzo-soprano Suzanne Lommler as the two sisters, tenor Scott Brunscheen as the abducted husband, and baritone Jonathan Beyer as his buddy. Sarah Edgar directs, with sets by Zuleyka V. Benitez and costumes by Meriem Bahri. —DEANNA ISAACS

SUNDAY18 Handsome Family See also Monday. Anna & Elizabeth open. 7 PM, Maurer Hall, Old Town School of Folk Music, 4544 N. Lincoln, sold out. b

32 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

There’s little wonder why Brett and Rennie Sparks named the Handsome Family’s new album Unseen (Virtual Label). In just about every song, the long-running duo detail a hidden entity or force that’s exerting its pull on a sometimes hapless, sometimes acquiescent, sometimes eager protagonist. On “Silver Light” the oxygenated glow of a casino—complemented by free drink reﬁlls and an all-you-can-eat buffet—casts an indulgent spell on petty gamblers. “Underneath the Falls” and “The Sea Rose” feature sirenlike underwater seducers, while in “Tiny Tina” a miniature horse at a state fair haunts the narrator because he passed her up to eat funnel cakes, chili dogs, and deep-fried beer and check out the largest ear of corn. Mostly sung by Brett in his beguilingly morose croon, the songs suggest a world in which our best attempts to navigate temptations, disasters, and tricks are perpetually derailed by personal emptiness. The songs rarely reach resolutions or end on positive notes. Rennie’s lyrics pull the listener in with a mix of mordant humor and otherworldly imagery, while tender melodies set to elegant, rootsy arrangements work to heighten the album’s magnetism. Aside from a track like “The Red Door,” which includes ﬂourishes of vintage R&B, the band seldom veers from its formula, but somehow it remains fresh. Tomorrow the pair will conduct a workshop across the street titled “Words & Music With the Handsome Family.” See Monday for details. —PETER MARGASAK

Haymarket Opera perform Haydn’s The Desert Island See Saturday. 3 PM, Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport, $15-$67. b Dustin Laurenzi 9 PM, Hungry Brain, 2319 W. Belmont, $10 Young improvisers have a tendency to show off their chops when they’re first starting out, using recordings to strut their stuﬀ. Saxophonist Dustin Laurenzi has already made a couple of albums as part of the collective Twin Talk, so the measured, subtle display on his debut as a leader, Natural Language (Ears & Eyes), might not seem so striking in that regard. From the very beginning, though, he reveals himself to be a player of great thoughtfulness and maturity. Leading a strong band with guitarist Jeﬀ Swanson and drummer Charles Rumback

Find more music listings at chicagoreader.com/soundboard.

MUSIC (who play together in the trio Whirlpool) as well as bassist Mike Harmon, Laurenzi unfurls lyric improvisations amid compositions that sparkle with rich harmonies. His tunes are direct and unfussy, imbued with folkish grace. Combined with Swanson’s hovering guitar colors, Laurenzi’s lines maintain a lovely drifting quality; Rumback provides the slightly turbulent bottom, his Paul Motian-like rumble perfectly fitting in with the ethereal writing. Laurenzi wrote “J.P.” as a tribute to guitarist Jeff Parker, but it’s only during the track’s closing moments that the tense guitar finally relaxes with a melodic phrase redolent of its subject. With a title that reflects the leader’s deceptive simplicity, “Folk Song” serves another attractive theme shaped with airy refinement, while on “Weller,” a lurching gem written for fellow reedist Chris Weller, Laurenzi and Swanson show some rare extroversion. As the former blows long, glancing shapes that convey an unrealized portent, the latter brings an effective needling quality, his biting tone expertly soured with distortion. I imagine there will be an increased intensity and power live, but either way Laurenzi has already achieved one of the toughest things to do in jazz without overdoing it: a genuine presence. —PETER MARGASAK

Lush Tamaryn open. 8 PM, the Vic, 3145 N. Sheﬃeld, sold out. 18+ First-wave UK shoegaze bands My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, and Ride have recently reunited for sold-out world tours and headlining festival spots, and last year Lush—4AD’s answer to Huggy Bear— decided their time had come. In the 90s singersongwriters Miki Berenyi and Emma Anderson were brash twentysomethings whose hazy shoegaze provided a vehicle for riot-grrrl undercurrents. “Hypocrite” satirizes what would eventually be thought of as Mean Girls culture by ending the song with the acknowledgment that the narrator hypocritically talks mad shit. Their later wannabe Brit-pop hit “Ladykillers” flaunts glorious irritation at smarmy, horny men (rumors persist that Berenyi was referencing Anthony Kiedis). But now the 90s are over, and Lush have grown up. They’re decades removed from their 1992 Lollapalooza appearance, at which they famously scrawled a note to Ice Cube in lipstick on his trailer mirror. These days band members are parents—and some even work in oﬃces. Reunited, the quartet released a great EP earlier this year called Blind Spot (Edamame), but it’s still the dreamscape feminist anthems of yore that fans will react to most. Shoegaze has always been saturated with feminine energy, and Lush took the aesthetic to high levels of rock as other bands remained only timidly experimental (though older material, such as 1992’s Spooky LP, did show some adventurous roots). Their most notable work remains a hybrid of delicious shoegaze and riot-grrrl pop, as on their best album, 1994’s Split. Lush’s music is a gift to women who want to be both sweetly carefree and carelessly brazen. —MEAGAN FREDETTE

MONDAY19 Handsome Family See Sunday. 7-8:30 PM (workshop), Old Town School of Folk Music, 4545 N. Lincoln, $25, $24 members.

Nao See Pick of the Week on page 31. 8 PM, Lincoln Hall, 2424 N. Lincoln, $20, $18 in advance. 18+

TUESDAY20 Margaret Glaspy See also Wednesday. Bad Bad hats open. 7:30 PM, Green Mill, 4802 N. Broadway, $17. On her terrific full-length debut, Emotions and Math (ATO), Margaret Glaspy often declares that she’s had it with no-account lovers. The singersongwriter writes with an appealing plainspokenness: she shuts down a know-it-all suitor who oﬀers

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unsolicited advice in “Situation,” while on “You and I” she overcomes feelings of sexual ecstasy or empathy (“You and I have been a mistake / I let it linger too long”). Glaspy’s moments of strength are sometimes contradicted by withering insecurities, like on “Somebody to Anybody,” where she simply wants to disappear, or on “Pins and Needles,” where the narrator messes with her essence in an attempt to score someone who seems unattainable (“Looks like I near forgot who I was to be who you’d want”). Those contradictions, however, are what make the record so eﬀective, as Glaspy cuts to the quick, nailing the internal dialogues we have about love. Lyrics are set to deceptively simple arrangements marked by her biting, scrappy electric guitar and the roomy grooves sculpted by bassist Chris Morrissey and drummer Tim Kuhl. But the real power comes from

her unfussy singing, which delivers one infectious melody after another. Subtle emotional gradations match the nuanced ambiguity of her lyrics, giving the listener the sense of being pulled this way and that way, the peregrinations of romance either budding or rotting. —PETER MARGASAK

Wiki DJ Lucas opens. 8 PM, Reggie’s Rock Club, 2105 S. State, $15, $13 in advance. 18+

As cofounder of Ratking, Manhattan rapper Wiki invokes hip-hop’s past, present, and future. That group’s 2014 double-LP debut, So It Goes (Hot Charity/XL), tips its hat to NYC’s hip-hop legacy without letting that history get in the way of their portraits of the confined, gentrifying city as J

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KAYNAK PIPERS BAND, YVES LAMBERT TRIO

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 33

Find more music listings at chicagoreader.com/soundboard.

MUSIC continued from 33

they experience it. Ratking’s visceral, kaleidoscopic instrumentals move with the tectonic might of noise that builds into exultant melodies, while alternately snarling and sedate vocals barrel toward an unknown fate. Right now the group’s own future appears in doubt: rapper Hak publicly left this summer, and Wiki’s debut solo mixtape, 2015’s Lil Me, drops blatant hints of the band’s demise in its scattered crowd chatter (“I heard Ratking broke up”). Running a little more than two hours, Lil Me seems imposing, but the diminutive rapper approaches tracks with an easygoing patience, delivering rhymes with the same incandescent bite that’s made Ratking a phenomenon. If I have a complaint, it’s that Lil Me could use a little more assistance from other voices (I’m not counting the final cut, which is a nearly hour-long conversation with NYC scenester Aaron Bondaroﬀ). Micachu’s drowsy contributions on “Cherry Tree” and Skepta’s staccato vocals on “God Bless Me” show the importance of good palate cleansers. Still, Wiki remains the hero of the day, outshining collaborator Nasty Nigel on the thunderous jam “Living With My Moms” and coasting through tongue twisters on “Crib Tax” as casually as a city kid riding an express F train—his vocals anticipate upcoming melodic twists and turns without interrupting the pace or speed of his ﬂow. —LEOR GALIL

WEDNESDAY21

Margaret Glaspy See Tuesday. Bad Bad Hats open. 7:30 PM, Green Mill, 4802 N. Broadway, $17.

Glyders Fred & Toody Cole headline; Strychnine and Glyders open. 9 PM, Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western, $15, $12 in advance.

At a time when one might get the distinct impression that far too many rock-folk-psych-country fusion bands would rather do key bumps and dress like their favorite performer in The Last Waltz than take the time to make music that isn’t hackneyed and lukewarm, local trio Glyders introduce an idiosyncratic reinterpretation of the all too famil-

iar. Clearly enchanted by Bolan-esque faerie-folk magick and the kind of stoner choogle that was hot stuﬀ during Nixon’s reign, Glyders don’t settle into such simple categorizations, instead revealing a genuine versatility that’s hard to come by. Maybe it’s the refreshing lack of cymbals—the most distracting and predictable embellishment in all of rock ’n’ roll—but even during a relatively heavy jam such as “Better Days” (from last year’s self-titled seven-inch on Tall Pat Records), there’s a relaxed confidence and admirable restraint. Even when they, in the immortal words of the Meat Puppets’ Curt Kirkwood, “Get way out there now, man,” there’s no need to worry about extended middles careening into tedious self-indulgence—which makes it that much easier to just relax and enjoy what they’re doing. —BRIAN COSTELLO

Ben Wendel 7:30 and 9:30 PM, Constellation, 3111 N. Western, $15. 18+ In his work with the hard-hitting electric-jazz combo Kneebody reedist Ben Wendel looks forward, pushing jazz into liminal spaces between stylistic disciplines while largely shutting out the genre’s past. He embraces a much different mind-set on his new acoustic-quartet album, What We Bring (Motema). It’s a record that still aims ahead, but one that does so by examining and reformulating specific moments in jazz history. An anagram of John Coltrane’s classic “Naima,” throttling opener “Amian” slices and dices the original melody while also sharing the practice of tenor blowing that keeps it floating weightlessly over a churning groove. The reedist wrote “Song Song” after he gorged himself on a live version of Ahmad Jamal’s hit “Poinciana,” creating a loping rhythm with an indelible bass line by Joe Sanders, an infectious beat pattern by Henry Cole, and an elegant, tightly coiled piano solo by Gerald Clayton. What We Bring includes two very sleek, meticulous arrangements that originally appeared as part of Wendel’s online Seasons project, for which he wrote a duo piece each month for different instrumentalists. The quartet also reinvents the fragile ballad “Doubt” by indie-rock band Wye Oak, reinforcing the wobbly melody line but giving it a rhythmic backbone absent from the original. The same lineup from the recording performs here. —PETER MARGASAK v

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SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 35

36 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

FOOD & DRINK NEW REVIEW

With Steadfast, a pair of promising chefs no longer labor in obscurity

At the Fifty/50 Group’s latest spot, Chris Davies and Chris Teixeira have been given a more prominent stage in the Loop. By MIKE SULA

Honey ice cream, sage pound cake, bee-pollen-infused whipped cream; laminated brioche; chicken-fried quail o DANIELLE A. SCRUGGS

STEADFAST | $$$$$

120 W. Monroe 312-801-8899 steadfastchicago.com

hocolate-covered foie gras tops the menu at the latest from the Fifty/50 Group, Steadfast, a restaurant with a broad mission that in some ways feels like a peak in the trajectory of this concern, which launched with its namesake Wicker Park bro bar and an obscure regional pizzeria but then branched into classy cocktail bars and downtown hotel partnerships that earned the burgeoning empire high regard. Until now the crown jewel has been Homestead on the Roof, the farm-totable fine-dining outfit atop the Chicago Avenue doughplex that houses the original Roots Handmade Pizza (there’s a second in Lincoln Square) and West Town Bakery. There chef Chris Davies and pastry chef Chris Teixeira labored in relative obscurity—relative, that is, to other, more visible darlings associated in various ways with the Green City Market. With Steadfast, they’ve been given a more prominent stage in the heart of the Loop at the foot of the Kimpton Gray Hotel, where they serve three squares and maintain an advanced charcuterie program with an assist from Table, Donkey and Stick’s Scott Manley, along with a bar filled with clever cocktails and antique whiskeys under the direction of Tomasz Sas, a protege of group MVP Benjamin Schiller. What’s most interesting to me about Steadfast is that Texeira, the beneficiary of a great deal of critical acclaim in the past, is given practically equal billing to Davies on the restaurant’s PR boilerplate and its menu. Thus the sweet foie bonbon that introduces things: a mouthful of creamy, rich, livery torchon, jacketed in a dark chocolate shell with a few squibs of orange puree and, to cement its place on the savory menu, a sprinkle of sea salt. It’s a deliciously weird way to start a session at Steadfast, and isn’t the first indicator of the pastry chef’s outsize influence on dinner. That’s apparent also among the snacks that lead off with the laminated brioche, a chimeric cylinder of layered dough rolled thin, concealing deposits of Spanish ham and manchego cheese, all topped with a quail egg, caviar, and gold leaf. It’s a crispy, warm reminder of Texeira’s doughssant, West Town Bakery’s answer to the cronut. But the pastry chef asserts himself most with the bread service, the most elaborate version of which includes a half-dozen fist-size breads, from a lavender-scented pretzel to a leek-crusted flamiche to a garlicky cracker, all accompanied by pickles, oils, and three luxuriantly soft butters. Pace yourself with this J

SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 37

FOOD & DRINK The coppa is served sprinkled with crushed chicken skin. ! DANIELLE A. SCRUGGS

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chicagoreader.com/early 38 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

continued from 38 bread. Don’t scarf down all $11 worth immediately; reserve some to help with Davies’s more saucy dishes, not the least of which includes a peppery espelette mayo and a sweet onion marmalade that both outshine the accompanying trio of dense, dry-smoked oxtail croquettes. The bread also comes in handy when approaching the thick, salty, and unsubtle smoked red gravy that passes for broth in a cioppino nonetheless brimming with perfectly cooked scallops, lobster, clams, and mussels, as well as the bizarrely liquid duck-liver mousse studded with Armagnac-poached prunes that accompanies what should be a showstopping whole roasted lavenderhoney-glazed duck, which in at least one unfortunate case turned out to be overcooked. There’s a lot to puzzle over on Steadfast’s dinner menu. Dishes so irresistible you want to order them again are side by side with some so unappealing they’re difficult to look at. There should be no complaints about the fried chicken skins, drizzled in a sweet sriracha and sprinkled with mustard seeds. Likewise for the chicken-fried quail, sweetly glazed in a lemongrass-infused caramel. (Incidentally, there seems to be a bit of a fried-chicken theme; Manley’s fatty, funky coppa is served sprinkled with crushed chicken skin.) And there shouldn’t have been any worries about the fideo, a sort of inverted ring-molded angel-hair kugel on a bed of rich and rewarding inky squidlings marinated in black garlic; or with the sweetbreads, a judicious portion of lightly smoked glands arrayed on a mess of green pea puree and carpet bombed with umami-loaded garnishes like truffles, charred asparagus tips, pickled dates, and chorizo. (Alas, two of the better dishes on

the menu have since been 86’d.) But then certain promising-looking dishes go off the rails: uncharacteristically moist cider-braised rabbit surrounded by tough, rubbery shrimp balls; an otherwise textbook chorizo-stuffed chicken ballotine garnished with tasteless black truffles surrounding a mound of glutinous, gray freekeh porridge. Considering the disastrous aspects of the aforementioned cioppino and duck, it’s safe to say that this ambitious-looking menu is presently harboring land mines. Teixeira’s desserts, on the other hand, are a uniform delight: an arrangement of chocolatey stout cake, butterscotch ice cream, and crunchy caramel pretzel; or a dish of honey ice cream, sage pound cake, and a dollop of bee-pollen-infused whipped cream. A small tray of Teixeira’s sweets—macarons, nougats, truffles, and pate de fruits—finishes things off, reinforcing the fine-dining MO the principals are striving for, the same ones that certain aspects of the hotel’s environment tend to undermine: an unlovely view onto relatively lonely Monroe Street, a set of singleoccupancy restrooms requiring a trip through the lobby and up some stairs, air-conditioning gone AWOL on one of the warmest evenings of the summer, and service seemingly out of sync with the kitchen (one evening a server repeatedly rushed over late to breathlessly introduce half-eaten dishes, waving her fingers perilously close to the food). Steadfast still feels like it’s getting its footing while attempting to appease both a broad hotel clientele and the local dining fans who justifiably expect something more on point from this cast of characters. v

" @MikeSula

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SEPTEMBER 15, 2016 - CHICAGO READER 39

Saturday & Sunday

BRUNCH 11am-2pm

R FINCH BEER CO. & KITCHEN 2925 W. Montrose 773-942-7949 thefinchkitchen.com

FOOD & DRINK

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BARS

Finch Beer Co. & Kitchen puts a bird on the former Breakroom Brewery By JULIA THIEL

ince opening five years ago, Finch’s Beer Co. has struggled to find its place in Chicago. Its original lineup failed to impress the local beer-drinking community, the majority of its distribution was outside of Illinois, and plans to build a facility on the river (and then out in the suburbs) fell through. But following a February sale of the brewery—from the Finch family to several of the original investors— the company acquired Hopothesis Brewing and Breakroom Brewery. Shedding an “s” along the way, Finch’s Beer has become Finch Beer, emphasis on the bird rather than the founding family. That bird logo figures prominently in the redecorated former Breakroom brewpub in Albany Park. A huge yellow ﬁnch adorns a tiled wall behind the bar, another above the windows that show off the brewing equipment, and neon versions perch on the back wall and in the front window. It’s a striking space, with dove-gray walls and a soaring ceiling that

40 CHICAGO READER - SEPTEMBER 15, 2016

exposes wooden rafters studded with Edison bulbs. High-backed wood and metal stools look right at home in the space—though actually sitting on them becomes uncomfortable fairly quickly. That’s a shame, because otherwise it’s a nice place to spend a few hours, especially on warm fall days when the garage-style doors are open, making the space seem even airier. Of the 14 beers on tap, eight are brewed on-site and available only at the brewpub; another four come from Finch or Hopothesis and are brewed at the Elston facility. A lonely Berliner weiss from Off Color and a blueberry cider from Vander Mill constitute the only outside offerings aside from spirits, soda, and a few wines. Apparently eager to cast off the reputation for boring beer earned by its three original brews (all of which have been discontinued), Finch has branched out from the standard pale ales and IPAs. Some of the classic styles still seem designed to appeal to the type of people

who always order chicken breast—the best thing I can say about the pilsner and witbier is that they’re both inoffensive—but there are also several I’d go back for. The peppery Cave of Chauvet saison is simple but satisfying, and the Sungasm Belgian-style pale ale marries bright grapefruit with grassy hops. Inanimate Object, a Belgian-style dubbel brewed with rye, contrasts a creamy, chocolaty body with rye spice. Another favorite is Midgard, identified as a Gottslandrika, a style that I’m half convinced the brewery made up (if you google the name, the only results that come up are associated with Finch). Brewed with smoked malt and honey malt, it’s excellent—a bit like a smoky, spicy, complex amber ale. The food menu, developed by Matthias Merges (Yusho and A10, among others), covers the usual brewpub stalwarts of snacks, sausages, and sandwiches, often with a slightly upscale twist: a grilled cheese sandwich with heirloom tomatoes; a charred beet salad with arugula and brown butter vinaigrette. The half dozen or so sausages—including Barese, Thuringer, curried chicken, and tofu—are made in-house; a mild boudin blanc served with roasted and pickled vegetables and a Dijon vinaigrette had a nicely snappy casing but seemed overpriced at $16. We found better value in a huge pile of crunchy paprika-dusted fried chickpeas, which I’d like the kitchen to start packaging and selling through retail outlets so that I never have to drink beer without them again. Soft pretzels, on the other hand, were fairly mediocre—though not when used to sop up the nutty melted raclette and crispy sausage bits in the “sizzling cheese platter” served with tomatoes, pearl onions, cornichons, and potatoes (another perfect drinking food I’d be happy to see become a brewpub standard). A fried chicken sandwich with kimchi and fried shallots was sadly rubbery—though the top-notch fries that accompanied it were enhanced by an intensely flavored sesame aioli. The least typical bar food, an heirloom tomato salad, was also one of the best dishes; the peak-season tomatoes accented with salty blue cheese, basil, and balsamic vinegar took on a lovely savory quality. We tried but couldn’t quite find room for the doughnuts made with Finch Secret Stache chocolate stout for dessert. Next time, I may order just the stout itself, which I know from experience makes a ﬁne end to a meal. v

ß @juliathiel

S P O N SO R ED CO NT ENT

DRINK SPECIALS LINCOLN PARK

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$4 Lagunitas drafts, $4 Absolut cocktails, “Hoppy Hour” 5-8pm = 1/2 price IPAs + pale ales

50% oﬀ wine (glass & bottle) and salads. Happy Hour 5-6:30pm: half oﬀ appetizers, $5 pints of bud light, and $6 shots of Jameson

$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits

FRI

“Hoppy Hour” 5-8pm = 1/2 price IPAs + pale ales

$6 Jameson shots, $5 Green Line; 50% oﬀ chicken sandwich. Happy Hour 5-6:30pm: half oﬀ appetizers, $5 pints of bud light, and $6 shots of Jameson

$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits

S AT

$6 Jameson shots $3 PBR bottles

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$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits

SUN

$4 Temperance brews, $5 Absolut bloody mary’s

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$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits

MON

$4 Half Acre brews, FREE POOL, “Hoppy Hour” 5-8pm = 1/2 price IPAs + pale ales

all beer 50% oﬀ, $5 burgers. CLOSED Happy Hour 5-6:30pm: half oﬀ appetizers, $5 pints of bud light, and $6 shots of Jameson

TUE

$2 and $3 select beers

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$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits

WED

1/2 price aliveOne signature cocktails, $4 Goose Island brews, “Hoppy Hour” 5-8pm = 1/2 price IPAs + pale ales

50¢ wings (minimum 10), selection of 10 discounted whiskeys. Happy Hour 5-6:30pm: half oﬀ appetizers, $5 pints of bud light, and $6 shots of Jameson

$6 Firestone Walker Opal $5 Anchor Drafts pints, $6 Finch Vanilla Stout $3 Happy Hour Specials 16 oz. cans, $7 house wines, $8 Few Spirits, $10 classic cocktails

$5 Anchor Drafts $3 Happy Hour Specials

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Happy Hour 4-6pm, $2 oﬀ all beers