September 11, 2008

Morning, though not so early as I would like. A lone man works on the flat roof opposite, right at the edge, where I would never go. A lone shaft of light falls between the buildings and strikes the spreading tree at the joining of the roads. Now that I see it, the rising skyscraper beyond the flat roof is filled with yellow hatted workers, like bees busy in a soaring hive.

Did go to the Ford Center (The "Oriental " Theater, gaudy and huge) to see Wicked. I liked it a good deal, and wasn’t sure I would. It succeeds as theater despite the money spent on it. They meant, I suppose, to turn it into a no-fail extravaganza, a gesture which was not necessary. I think it could-- and several other plays do-- deliver its message more modestly, and therefore more elegantly, but perhaps then it would not draw such numbers. Though, in fact, the theater was but half full. The man in the seat beside me said it has been playing two years in Chicago and everyone who is going to see it probably has. But it was sweet and funny, and encouraged the heart to follow its way, and to be kind to the hearts around it. Difficult to disapprove. I was in Row C, close enough to see the actors working. I admired them. I noticed that they were very tired. The most irritating were those who had their beaming stage face on perpetually, though I suppose that reads from the back of the hall. The Wicked Witch was working the least visibly and was, therefore, believable and moving beyond her peers. The house seems the be ruled by basso, arthritic women about three feet high, who command the patrons with a shift of their eyes.

Finished the evening in some bar. I think it was in this building. Room service dishes were strewn across the room this AM. Somebody must have eaten.

It is the Sears Tower I see from my window. The other one-- the Prudential?–is so close behind it could lean over my shoulder to read this as I write.

Took the Wendella Boat Tour late this morning. Either our tour guide Sarah or the tour itself was very architecturally concentrated, for that is what we mostly heard about. Anyone would be impressed by the cranes studding the skyline, a dozen of them anyway, building what is high still higher. We gazed on the foundation of a building that is going to be 2000 feet tall. And this on 9/11. If there is an economic downturn, Chicago hasn’t heard of it. The Jewelers Building had elevators that the jewelers could drive into and be lifted right to their floors, so they never had to get out of their cars into the dangers of the street. The Merchandise Mart was once the largest building in the world. The Carbide Building was meant to look like a champagne bottle. My favorite was a green building (the color of the river) which bent with the bend of the river. Three "supertall" buildings are being built even now. Sarah, an architecture graduate student in real life, was snapping pictures the whole time, to document changes in the skyline which she said occurred from one day to the next. Looking from Lake Michigan back at the city was. . . well, I suppose the word is sublime. A white city proud and soaring, a jeux d’esprit as extravagant as an opera or a Viennese pastry, but on a scale of billions. Nothing in all history would prepare one for a view like that. Familiarity softens the effect of a sight that should drop us to our knees.

Anna’s first preview is tonight, and I’ll be there, despite KM’s warning not to expect better than a preview night’s performance. The clerk at the Eddie Bauer store knew about Bailiwick’s flight from its building. One online review said "Naked Boys Singing has been playing at the bailiwick for two years. But, that’s what they do." Well, I hope Anna and I don’t disappoint the crowd that lined up to see Naked Boys Singing. The problem with "gay" theater is that so many avowed fans of it don’t go beyond Naked Boys Singing in either their taste or their expectations. Another problem is that what would be simple bad taste for another group is for us "fabulous!"
Well, we’ll know tonight.