29 minute read
A&E
Advertisement
Dead Certain @ Grand Theatre
In 2019, The Grand Theatre premiered A Wall Apart, a new musical with songs by Air Supply songwriter and longtime Utah resident Graham Russell, and a book by Sam Goldstein and Craig Clyde. That tale explored love and family dynamics through the lens of the Cold War in divided Berlin. This year, The Grand Theatre continues its relationship with the same creative team with another world premiere musical, Dead Certain—but unlike the real-world grounding of A Wall Apart, this tale takes on a somewhat darker, Halloween-season-appropriate tone.
It’s the story of Boyd Denning, an unemployed mortuary assistant from Iowa who considers himself particularly unlucky. Looking for a radical change in his life, Boyd makes a big move to Denver, and finds himself guided toward a work opportunity after a chance encounter on a bus with a fellow named Mr. Parrish. He begins his primary job driving a hearse for the Daley family funeral home, but also gets an offer for an odd moonlighting opportunity offered by Mr. Parrish— one that’s hard to accept even before it involves the girl of Boyd’s dreams. With great catchy tunes like “I Believe in Love” and “Fix You Up,” Dead Certain mixes the kind of music that leaves you humming with a twist of the macabe.
Dead Certain runs at Salt Lake Community College’s Grand Theatre (1575 S. State St.) now through Oct. 29, with performances Thursday – Saturday at 7:30 p.m., and 2 p.m. Saturday matinees. Tickets are $30; visit grandtheatrecompany to purchase tickets and for additional event information. (Scott Renshaw)
COURTESY PHOTO
Liz Miele @ Wiseguys Gateway
Stand-up comedy is built on stage persona; some folks turn their jokes outward, and some choose to turn them inward. New Jersey native Liz Miele has developed her self-deprecating style over a career that has already spanned more than half of her life— and like the true pro that she is, she finds the funniest material in the most uncomfortable events in her life.
In her latest one-hour special, The Ghost of Academic Future, Miele builds on the most uncomfortable event in many of our lives: the COVID pandemic: “I had a boyfriend before the pandemic,” she says. “I don’t anymore. I take responsibility, because I said, ‘We should quarantine together.’ That’s hilarious now, right? It was supposed to be two weeks; anybody can love anybody for two weeks. … It fast-forwarded our relationship like 40 years. We were like two 70-year-olds: We had no work. We had no place to go. All of our friends are dead.”
She also finds humor in the unique experience of being an artist on unemployment, and actually having a regular weekly income. “It’s like pretty good money for me,” she says. “Remember how they said if you give people who don’t make much money too much money, they might not go back to work? That’s me. I don’t want to be here right now. You’ll want to be there when Liz Miele visits Wiseguys Comedy’s Gateway location (194 S. 400 West) Oct. 14-15 for two shows each night, 7 p.m. & 9:30 p.m. Tickets are $20; visit wiseguyscomedy.com for tickets and for additional event information. (SR)
For more information call the Box Office: 801 957-3322
or visit us at: GrandTheatreCompany.com
Reza Aslan: An American Martyr in Persia @ SLC Main Library
The complex intersections between Islam and Christianity have long been a subject of personal and academic interest to Reza Aslan, a scholar and frequent television commentator who himself converted from Islam to Christianity and eventually back to Islam again. Aslan applies that interest to a fascinating, little-known footnote in American/Persian relations in his new book, An American Martyr in Persia: The Epic Life and Tragic Death of Howard Baskerville.
The book’s subject, Howard Baskerville, was an American Presbyterian missionary teacher working at the American Memorial School in Tabriz, Persia (present-day Iran) in the early 1900s. That work coincided with the short-lived period in Iran when Mohammad Ali Shah dismantled the country’s parliament and began a tyrannical rule that was opposed by a rebel force in the city of Tabriz. Baskerville’s support of that opposition and his involvement in helping rescue the besieged rebels in Tabriz, including applying his military background to training the local population, ultimately led to his death during a battle in April 1909 at the age of just 22. Emerging during the current upheaval in Iran, An American Martyr in Persia explores the principles and background that drove Baskerville’s activism, as well as the Iran’s long history of seeking freedom, and how Americans have both helped and hindered those battles.
Aslan visits the Salt Lake City Main Library’s Tessman Auditorium (210 E. 400 South) on
Wednesday, Oct. 19 at 6:30 p.m., with a book signing after his lecture (copies available at The King’s English Bookshop, 1511 S. 1500 East. Admission is free to the public; visit kingsenglish.com for additional event information. (SR)
PETER KONERKO
“Have They Even Read the Comic?”
She-Hulk and the epidemic of ignorant vitriol aimed at anything deemed “woke.”
BIG SHINY ROBOT
Marvel has been pumping out television shows faster than anyone except Lucasfilm, and their most recent, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, has been a delight from start to finish. Part of that is because it’s so different, part of it is because it’s charming, and part of it is because it’s so damn self-aware.
Perhaps the best way to describe this particular show to an average audience is to imagine Ally McBeal, but set in a superhero universe. (For those of you too young to remember Ally McBeal, just insert any standard comedy sitcome that takes place in a legal setting, then plop that into the Marvel universe and you’ll get the idea.)
Of course, you understand—you’re smart. Otherwise you wouldn’t be reading words like this, right? Instead, you’d probably be watching grifters on YouTube to help form your opinions about things. But the problem with them is they only live to monetize and manufacture outrage. Seriously. It’s true.
Take She-Hulk, for example. It’s a terrific show, and critics are really into it (myself included). It has an 87% score on Rotten Tomatoes (typically a worthless metric, but instructive in this case).
Thanks to some of those manufactured campaigns railing against how “woke” the show is (woke is a word defined as “being conscious of racial discrimination in society and other forms of oppression and injustice” but somehow to these folks this is a bad thing), some folks have reviewbombed it on every platform they can, driving the user ratings through the floor. They also rail against the jokes. And they ask in the reviews over and over again if anyone involved in making the show has ever read a She-Hulk comic.
Now, this is the dead giveaway that they have no idea what the hell they’re talking about. She-Hulk comics have always been exactly like this show. Jennifer Walters— She-Hulk’s lawyering alter-ego—has always been quippy and broken the fourth wall. In one of my favorite comics, she literally turns to break out of the gutters of the comic, threatening the writer of the book— John Byrne—with violence for some inane plot twist or another.
In fact, given how far some of that fourth wall breaking has gone in the comics, Tatiana Maslany’s performance has been downright restrained in its zaniness and strikes a terrific balance between the source material and the demands of the realities of live television. The only major change is that all the feminism that was in the subtext of the comics has been dialed up to 11—and rightly so.
When you look at the She-Hulk comics at their best side-by-side with the show, the only conclusion that one can come to is that folks complaining in these brigades across social media are the ones who have never actually read a She-Hulk comic. They do not know what they are talking about. They are unwitting soldiers in a culture war that their side is losing miserably—again, rightly so. These people did the exact same thing to Ms. Marvel earlier this year. And they’ve tried to do it in other franchises, too.
The lesson here is to not listen to “user reviews,” and certainly don’t watch any YouTube videos that star conservative outrage-grifters complaining about popular culture. I watched Ben Shapiro’s latest for you, so you don’t have to. In it he asks, “Do you remember when [Disney] used to make comic-book movies that were fun, and didn’t lecture you on woke garbage?” Then he proceeds to explain that he canceled his Disney+ subscription because Disney is trying to “indoctrinate kids into LGBTQ+%[sic] queer theory.”
This bigot admits in his video he doesn’t even watch the shows, let alone read the comics. So who cares what he has to say? It would be fun to see these clowns flail around like this, angry that they’re losing, if it weren’t so depressing to see how they’re infecting others with their hateful rhetoric. It’s no wonder these sorts of folks turn out to be the real villains of She-Hulk.
I can only imagine what She-Hulk’s legal advice to you would be: Do your own research. Read the comics. Watch the shows. Skip the conservative hate machine. I hope it’ll all turn out in the end.
In the meantime, I’m going to go watch and read some more “woke garbage,” because it’s some of the best and most insightful art being produced today. CW
the for
By Jason Stevenson comments@cityweekly.net
Ten Salt Lakers share their hopes and fears for a neighborhood in distress.
Less than two miles separate the Ballpark neighborhood apartment complex where a recent homicide occurred and the new fiberglass whale that soars out of a roundabout near 9th & 9th.
A person could walk between them in 30 to 45 minutes, or bike it in much less. But within that relatively short distance lies a pronounced shift in city living. And this social gap exists even though both the crime scene—one of five violent deaths in the Ballpark neighborhood this year—and the whale are located in the same Salt Lake City Council 5th district.
The issues that keep Ballpark residents up at night—dominating their discussions over kitchen tables, backyard fences and social media forums— are profoundly different from the conversations in 9th & 9th. According to data shared by the Ballpark Community Council, residents here report 10 times the number of “person crimes”—aggravated assaults, homicides, rapes, robberies—than their neighbors in East Liberty Park. As a result, Ballpark can often feel like a separate city within the city.
The Utahns who appear in this article chose the locations where they wanted to be interviewed. Their perspectives—condensed from longer transcriptions and edited for clarity—show a tight-knit community of neighbors and business owners who are proud of Ballpark’s identity, aware of its challenges and profoundly concerned about its fate. They describe a crossroads neighborhood facing many possible futures, but one that no one can be sure of.
The Urbanist
Taylor Anderson
Partner and editor, Building Salt Lake Interview location: 1700 S. Main, SLC
This intersection is the place I most affiliate with Ballpark. I live two and a half blocks from here, in Liberty Wells, but the closest mixed-use commercial node of any significance is right here. And I love it.
I don’t think there’s anything else in Salt Lake City like it. It’s a true mixed-use, urban neighborhood that still has grit and affordable prices. There’s mixed-use next to businesses, next to dive bars, next to yoga studios, next to car dealerships, next to tire shops, next to a 7-Eleven across the street, plus office space on all sides.
The people that were here when I first got here are still here today, and it’s fascinating to see how it’s growing. And what’s wild is that the new development isn’t pushing out the older stuff.
At this intersection, there’s low-income housing right across the street from new, for-sale row housing that’s all sold out. The new housing here didn’t displace the low-income housing.
Ballpark is huge, maybe one of the city’s biggest, densest neighborhoods that’s not on the west side. Many parts of Ballpark have crime problems. It’s still in District 5, but the issues facing Ballpark are so different from Liberty Wells and East Liberty Park.
Since Ballpark was ignored by the city in the past, it’s nice to see that it’s getting more full-throttle attention today with the new Ballpark Station Area Plan. It might be desperate attention from the city—because they are afraid they could lose the Salt Lake Bees baseball team. I hope that the city can figure out how to keep them. A lot of the families here are deciding to get out of Ballpark for a slew of acute issues that no other neighborhood is facing.
When I moved to Salt Lake, I wanted to live in the most walkable, most urban area. Yet, I like to garden, so I wanted to have some space. Ballpark offers that. Anything that I would want to do is right here, and it keeps growing every month and every year. I’m bullish on Ballpark’s current and its future path forward.
JASON STEVENSON Chair, Ballpark Community Council Interview location: RoHa Brewing Project, 30 E. Kensington Ave., SLC, 385-227-8982, rohabrewing.com
Kensington Avenue is a street that’s undergoing transition, and it’s a transition that absolutely needs to happen. It’s a short street—only a couple of blocks long between Main and State streets—but it has real problems.
Two homicides happened here, the first across the street and the second a few doors down.
If you look at a map of homicides, you see they happen in certain places—like Ballpark—over and over.
This community is experiencing the cumulative effects of violent crime. I’ve sat on this patio and heard sirens go by when somebody was stabbed to death a few blocks from here. That’s substantial. Any other time I’m sitting on this patio and hear sirens, I check to see if someone else was stabbed to death.
A few weeks ago, we held the first ever Kensington Avenue Street Fair sponsored by the city and RoHa Brewing Project. We had artisans selling their goods, plus two murals were being painted. There were activities for kids, and we had a beer tent. And city officials and the mayor were here to engage people about how they want to see Kensington Avenue transform.
We want those empty storefronts full of local businesses. We want a nice mixture of denser, owner-occupied housing. I’m hoping this is a neighborhood where younger families can get a foothold in Salt Lake City, maybe choose to make it their long-term home. I would love to hear about families moving into the neighborhood instead of moving away.
I want to see more people engaged. The phrase “eyes on the street” gets used widely without thinking about whose eyes are watching. People need to feel ownership in the neighborhood to say, ‘Hey, what’s going on here?’ and intervene and make a positive difference.
I hope the Bees are still here in the future. Beyond being the namesake of the neighborhood, the Bees are vital because we need the stadium activated. That place brings outsiders in. That activity deters crime. When the Bees have a game, they hire extra security.
The public becomes more familiar with Ballpark because they visit to see the Bees. And I think it’s an important time for everyone to check in on our progress. I would hate for them to lose that opportunity.
JASON STEVENSON
The Family Business Owner
Jim Grisley
President, J.M. Grisley Machine Tools Interview Location: 1485 S. 300 West, SLC
Our company is 100 years old, and we’ve been at this location on 300 West for 60 years. I’ve personally been here 45 years. In the last two years, since the Gail Miller [resource] center has been in place, our neighborhood has completely devolved.
It is extremely disappointing. Before, we never had to lock the doors. We didn’t have a security gate. We didn’t have to lock our cars. It was completely safe. And now, it’s completely unsafe.
At first, they promised that everything was going to be Alice in Wonderland with the homeless center. We wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And we took their word for it.
After about a year, the street was literally dangerous. People started getting assaulted. My tenant next door had a gun put to her head. Her car was stolen. I have a new tenant who had his front windows busted out. Then his side windows were broken. He just moved in two weeks ago.
The city is stuck in stasis. They can’t make a decision. They can’t do anything. So, the local businesses got together, and we started emailing and campaigning to get our situation in front of people who can actually make a decision. Our goal is to get these centers into compliance or have them shut down until they do so.
We are not unsympathetic to the homeless issue. Something needs to be done and it needs to be done urgently. The way it’s currently being handled by Salt Lake City means that everyone should be fired because they are not making decisions and helping these people who so desperately need it.
“We went into crisis mode from literally the day we opened ... The resource centers were never able to function the way we hoped.”—Matt Melville
The Manager
Matt Melville
Former director, Gail Miller Resource Center Interview location: Outside Horizonte High School, 234 S. Main, SLC
My connection to Ballpark began long ago, when I would visit family who lived here. My dad grew up here, and my mom and grandma lived on 1700 South.
It was just a beautiful neighborhood. I remember going to Salt Lake Trappers games and eating at Coachman’s on State Street.
I came back to Ballpark and oversaw the Gail Miller Resource Center. I worked heavily in setting it up and running it for almost two years. At first, there was a lot of excitement around the resource centers.
I started attending every Ballpark Community Council meeting. I was just blown away by how dedicated this community is. They had their qualms about the centers and questions about funding and resources. It was a big ask for this community—not just once, but twice.
Looking back now, it is difficult seeing the promises made by state and policy leaders to nonprofits and the communities. All of the nonprofits knew the bed reduction was a big mistake. But leadership told us it was going to work, and we would be able to get people into housing much sooner.
The reality is that we went into crisis mode from literally the day we opened, knowing we couldn’t meet the community’s needs. The issues we are seeing today were predictable by almost everybody who was involved—besides the people who made the decisions.
The resource centers were never able to function the way we hoped because we didn’t have enough resources. Case managers were getting stretched every which way.
We were having to turn people away. And when that happens, it spills into the neighboring communities.
We can bring Ballpark back to those glory days by making sure that public safety is a priority for all community members, including the unsheltered.
We need to make sure it’s a safe neighborhood for everybody who is coming through, even if you’re just buzzing by on Trax from Draper to Salt Lake. People need to know that they’ll be safe in Ballpark.
“It started out really pretty good ... But over time, it’s just kind of gone downhill a little bit each year.”—Clay
The Emigrant
Shelley Bodily, former resident
Interview location: Outside SLC Fire Station 8, 15 W. 1300 South, SLC
My husband Terrell and I owned our house on Richard Street for 15 years, and we rented before that. We bought our house in 2007 when places were selling for $70,000.
We moved here because we were both going to the U. Living in Ballpark, we had mass transit, we had commercial areas, we had a little bit of open space, we had proximity to downtown, we had affordable housing and we had the stadium.
At the time, it was a little bit gritty. We had some petty crime, but it didn’t affect us. It wasn’t terrible when we had our first daughter.
Then the two homeless resource centers came in. I have mixed feelings about this because I think homeless shelters weren’t necessarily a bad thing. But when you place one homeless shelter about five or six blocks from a second one, with Ballpark in the middle, I think that’s a design flaw.
The violence escalated. There was crime that we had never seen before. It got so extreme that we didn’t know if it was ever going to get better. The neighborhood just turned for us.
There were four or five families on our street with small children, and they’re all gone now. When our next-door neighbors—who had children the same ages as ours—decided to leave, that was the breaking point for us. We just decided we couldn’t stay.
We still have good friends in the neighborhood that we talk with all the time. We love to see what’s changing and hopefully good things will continue to happen, and we’ll be wrong.
When my husband and I drive through Ballpark, it still feels like home. But now it feels like a home that I don’t regret leaving. Before, it was very upsetting and emotional.
Now we live in Fruit Heights. It’s lovely. It’s wonderfully clean and quiet. It’s not Ballpark, it’s not this. Ballpark was our home. I wanted to be here for a reason. We came here for a reason.
JASON STEVENSON
The Longtimer
Clay
Gail Miller Resource Center resident Interview location: 1500 block of 300 West, SLC
My first name is Clay. I was one of the original ones in the Gail Miller shelter when it opened up three years ago.
It started out really pretty good. It was clean and nice and all that— less troubles. But over time, it’s just kind of gone downhill a little bit each year. They do have case managers to help you out, but they’re so overwhelmed that only a small amount of people actually get help.
I generally try to stay close to the shelter during the day so that I can return for lunch or dinner. The bus transportation is a little costly and it’s not worth the $100 fine trying to ride Trax without a ticket. So, I just kind of stay close to the shelter around here.
In order to leave the shelter, you need to have some sort of income— like disability or a part-time job or something like that. The housing vouchers they give out aren’t enough.
In December, I found an apartment listed for $950 including utilities. But when I contacted the management, they said the rent is actually $1,300 plus utilities. So, that won’t work. And it’s just like that all the time. It’s twice as hard to get back on your feet.
The Next-door Neighbors
Bob and Tom Danielson
Owners, Alpha Munitions Interview location: 268 W. Paramount Ave., SLC
Tom Danielson: What I always think about is if our mayor, our police chief—you name it—walked out of their house and if at the corner of their street, every single day, there were people doing drugs, drinking and telling them they’re not leaving, and the police aren’t going to do anything … would things change? Would they allow that? Would they feel safe? Would they let their kids out of the house? That’s what we live with every single day here.
Bob Danielson: We don’t know, when we come into our business every morning, if our windows are going to be busted out again. It’s 50-50.
You know the comfort you feel at your home when you’re sitting on your couch, or when you go to your office and can just focus on work? That can’t happen here. Because if you do, something horrible is going to happen.
Tom Danielson: It’s not that we’re not compassionate. We see people leaving the resource center early in the morning wearing their high visibility vests to do their construction jobs. But if you’re an individual who is in recovery, how many times can you walk by a drug dealer before you fall off the wagon? Is it three? Do you last a month, or two months?
To me, the current situation—which is people on the street doing drugs and alcohol when the individuals that shelter is designed to help are being preyed upon—is the least compassionate thing you can ever do.
JASON STEVENSON
The New Friends
Erika Carlsen, resident Ron Johnson, owner, Stained Glass Illusions
Interview location: Stained Glass Illusions, 1414 S. West Temple, SLC
Erika Carlsen: I moved to Ballpark about a year ago, and I’m still settling in. The thing that I love most are my neighbors. It feels like so many people in this neighborhood are artists and creatives, healers and social workers.
Ron and I met recently when I wrote a little flier and passed it out to my neighbors. I said, “Hey, I’m going to have some wine and cheese at my house, bring whatever you’d like.” I always love getting to know my neighbors because it just makes for a stronger community. And as the new kid on the block, I want to meet new people.
Ron Johnson: She lives right over there, but I didn’t know her until then. I went on a whim because I had no idea what was going on. And that’s really unlike me because I’m very shy and introverted.
I bought this building in 1973. They built it in 1938 as a grocery store and then converted it to a barber shop.
I ran a sign shop for 35 years before switching to stained glass when the Olympics were here. I live next door, which means I spend way too much time in my shop. But it’s been fun. I’ve really enjoyed this area, even as it changed.
Carlsen: It feels like the last year has brought a lot of changes, from new development on Main Street to the road work on 300 West. I’ve also observed an increase in what my neighbor calls “informal residents” in the neighborhood—the people who don’t have a home.
Johnson: I’m concerned about the homeless people in the neighborhood, but I’m more worried about the gang activity. I used to enjoy going for walks, but I don’t do that here anymore.
Maybe if I was younger, I’d feel differently. But with gangs of kids running around, I just feel intimidated
Carlsen: Maybe we should organize a walking group? I definitely need more motivation to get out of my house and be active.
Johnson: I like that idea. I used to walk everywhere. I bought this house in the first place because of the convenience you can’t find anywhere else in town. When I first moved here, there weren’t any huge grocery stores on 300 West. We had a little IGA down the street and that was it. The improvements made to the neighborhood have been fantastic.
Carlsen: I’m also here because it’s so convenient. All the shops that we need are right here. If we need to get on the freeway or catch a train, they’re nearby. I love hearing the Bees games, when I’m in my living room and I can hear the crowd cheer and the fireworks go off. It feels like Ballpark is nestled in the right place.
COURTESY PHOTO
The Go-Between
Wendy Garvin
Executive director, Unsheltered Utah Interview location: 1500 block of 300 West, SLC
This block of 300 West is filled with semi-industrial buildings. Most of them are older buildings. Right here is a small brick building next to a larger warehouse, and there’s about a 3-foot gap between the two buildings. Currently, it is blocked off by some sheet metal, but there are similar gaps all around us.
These little spaces between buildings are prime real estate for the folks who are looking for a way to escape the elements. These gaps block the wind, and provide shade and protection from rain or snow. You could put a tarp up and be protected from the elements.
I have a friend who owns a business here and she keeps me updated on where the camps are. She almost always has people camping in this back alley.
The challenge facing business owners is that sometimes people want to light fires for warmth. And that puts the buildings at risk. There’s this constant giveand-take where even the most compassionate business owners start to feel unsafe because of fires or break-ins in the area.
When I first started coming out to this part of the city, there were a few dozen—maybe 50—unsheltered people. Now, it’s more like 200 or 300 people living on the streets.
I’m sympathetic to the challenges businesses face. At the same time, I‘m more sympathetic to the people who are living exposed to the elements. The homeless resource centers aren’t big enough, there’s just not enough to go around.
I spend a lot of time on foot. I walk in and out of camps on a regular basis. I also use tips from social media to learn where an encampment is growing.
It is the darker corners of the city where people find refuge. You have to be willing to go into those corners. And it is really a fantastic society and community that they build.
Not without its challenges, for sure, but I feel well rewarded by the connections that I have with the unsheltered population. They are great people.
The Instigator
Bernie Hart
Founder, Understanding Us Interview location: Library Square, SLC
Salt Lake City doesn’t have a homeless problem— we have a problem dealing with the homeless people in our city. We cannot meet their needs, and we cannot solve their problems.
Our inability is the real problem. The people who are homeless are just there. They’re waiting for help. They’re waiting for change. They don’t want to be homeless, but they’re stuck in a place that we don’t understand how to get them out of.
I talk to people in Ballpark because I want to know what they think. They don’t like the stuff that is happening—the needles in the street, the drunks and addicts, and the people wandering around talking to themselves.
They expected the city to step up and fulfill their promises to help the population, but they’re not seeing it. These people are questioning the city’s inability, and now they’re angrier at the city than they are at the homeless.
The people in the homeless community—other than those dealing with severe mental-health conditions and addiction problems—seem to have found a home at the shelters. They are extremely comfortable there. They’ve learned to deal with the turmoil of being bedded down with 200 people every night. They know they have a bed and a meal.
But the shelters aren’t providing them with the services and the interaction they need to gain the confidence and expand their ability to deal with the problems of society. They’re stuck.
I want to know what the system does with those people. I want to know how long they’ve been in the system. I want to get information about the effectiveness of the system. And nobody wants to share that information.
I am pushing their buttons and insisting that they share that information. And they can’t. And every time I ask them to share it, they get more upset at me. CW
