Online: The Show With Ze Frank

VLOG: The Show with Ze Frank
Frequency: Daily, M-F, until 03/17/07
Location: http://www.zefrank.com/theshow/

Review: Upon first viewing, The Show with Ze Frank may seem like just some lonely guy talking into his camera and riffing on the news stories of the day. A Max Headroom for the internet age who took some speech therapy classes. On some days, that description fits perfectly. On other days, and after a few consecutive views, one can't help but get the feeling that something bigger is going on here.

Depending on the day, Ze Frank is sharp or unpolished, clean shaven or shaggy and rough around all of the edges. In fact, the only thing viewers of his week-daily video blog can be sure of is that he'll be there... For about three minutes... Putting on a show, entertaining, philosophizing, attacking the world around him with wit and (as his tagline often says) "thinking so you don't have to."

I was initially drawn to Ze Frank's vlog because I admire anyone who says they are going to do something and sticks with it. The vlog began on March 17th, 2006 and will end on March 17th, 2007. Like a New Year's resolution that came late, Frank decided to record himself talking and thinking out loud every Monday through Friday to see what would come of it. With little direction and a CNN website glowing from the computer screen behind him, March 17th's show consisted of the coffee-slugging Frank singing a makeshift theme song and using the still embryonic new media to poke fun and point out the absurdities of modern news reports on topics such as Jessica Simpson's snubbing of a Republican fundraiser.

What abruptly began as an online equivalent of trying to be the wittiest guest at a cocktail party could have just as abruptly faded into obscurity. Early on, I found myself revisiting Ze Frank's show every few weeks when I was bored at work. Nothing more. Now, I not only watch the show every day, but sometimes two or three times. Frank knows that the online mediaspace isn't just about riffing on other media. Though this schtick is still very much a part of his vlog, The Show with Ze Frank quickly evolved into something much more. As early as March 23rd, nearly half of The Show was dedicated to Frank working through a hangover and exploring his hotel room in the way a young child (or a full grown, hungover man) would. On the next day, Ze spends a little "quality time" with the viewer by smiling and staring into the camera (which he quickly acknowledges as weird).

In this world of YouTube and Myspace, the internet most certainly is a weird place, but that doesn't mean it can't be interesting and productive. Frank realizes this and isn't afraid to jump into the ball pit and play around. Sometimes, Frank finds scabs that have fallen off of the other children in the playpen, but more often than not, Frank seems to find lost change, dollar bills and other treasures. Most importantly, Frank doesn't discount the other kids (or as he refers to them... duckies, or Sports Racers) in the pond.

Interaction is key when using the internet as your primary medium. It's how the internet began and it's where the full circle of technology has brought us. Frank didn't wait long before integrating his viewers' comments into his daily show, sometimes sculpting whole episodes around someone else's thoughts. Though Frank says he is "thinking so you don't have to," his viewers do think, comment and influence the direction of the show more than anyone could have expected. It is Frank's ability to accept and encourage this interaction that has made him a success.

No "newbie" to the net, Frank's personal website (zefrank.com) became popular in 2001 when he sent out an animated invitation for his 29th birthday party to seventeen of his closest friends. The interactive invitation featured Frank demonstrating ten ridiculous dances. It was forwarded to several of the friends' friends and picked up a momentum that netted Frank's site over 100 gigabytes of daily web traffic. The E-mails began pouring in from across the globe and Frank began using his free time to create contests and simple Flash tools and games for the people who contacted him. (All of these projects are archived and can be seen on zefrank.com). His fan base grew and "just another guy" had become an online personality. Time Magazine featured zefrank.com as one of the 50 coolest websites of 2005 and he was a featured speaker at the TED (Technology Entertainment Design) conference in 2004-05.

Frank's fine mix of humor and sincerity can sometimes be hard to separate (as can be seen in the audience response during Frank's 2004 TED speech), but The Show has managed to let him explore both method and reaction. Like a grand social experiment, The Show has gone through many phases, adjustments and changes. Most importantly, The Show remains an open forum for Frank and his viewers in which they can explore the meaning and purpose of this bourgeoning online space that is becoming so much more integrated with our daily lives.

The spirit of exploration and collaboration quickly became a recurring theme in The Show, stretching much farther than the viewer's comments. On the May 16th episode, Frank issued a bizarre and humorous challenge to his viewership of "Sports Racers." The challenge was to place two pieces of bread on the ground simultaneously at points directly opposite each other on the globe. Doing this, would create the world's first "Earth Sandwich." Viewers sent in pictures of themselves placing bread on the ground along with their geographic coordinates and the hunt was on. In less than a month, two brothers succeeded in completing this absurdist mission by placing a baguette on the ground in Spain, opposite of another viewer's baguette in New Zealand.


From this point on, the collaborative spirit seemed to avalanche. Frank continued to encourage interaction on all levels by asking viewers to send in their own videotaped introductions for the show, playing a game of chess with the viewers through a wiki page, and urging viewers to remix a stray audio clip of a man named Ray singing a song for his daughter into a full song and music video (which will be delivered to Ray upon completion).

As the community of "Sports Racers" grows, projects have begun taking on a life of their own. One of the most recent projects surrounding The Show began, simply enough, when a forum member known as RunningFool asked if someone could provide him with a ride home for the holidays. Instead of a simple trip from Eugene, Oregon to southern California, other members of The Show's forum suggested that he try travelling across the country and back, using only forum members for lodging and travel. Liking the idea, Frank announced it on his show and over 350 people from across the U.S. volunteered to help. The project spawned another site (HumanBaton.com) to chronicle RunningFool's travels. Known in the real world as Luke Vaughn, the RunningFool has traveled over 9,000 miles in under a month. Luke has this to say about the project:

"I think the internet is a hugely positive thing, and that people don’t give it enough credit, and this is going to be something that maybe people will look at and say that’s really cool, and that the community isn’t just a bunch of people being fake. That there’s actual people behind the computer screens who are interacting, and who share important things with each other."

It is also with that attitude, that Ze Frank continues to make 3-5 minute shows on his site each weekday. With each show's tone ranging from humorous, angry, serious, silly and, sometimes, deeply sentimental, Frank has not forgotten that there are actual people behind the computer screens. People who have a desire to interact, share, create and learn things from one another. Yes, he does attempt to make money from his performances and for a few more months, Ze Frank will be performing for us... Providing entertainment, snarky commentary, irreverent humor and his own unique way of looking at the world.

Most importantly, however, is Frank's willingness to communicate with people and encourage his viewers to do the same. Frank's celebrity could be a flash in the pan, but I think he realizes this and embraces the creativity of the everyday people out there. He's even started an online community space for his fans which focuses on showcasing the creative output of its members.

New media couldn't ask for a better star... Fortunately for those of us who aren't struck mute by stars, Ze Frank has the foresight and humility to ask us all to shine.

Rating: 4.5 / 5

The Show with Ze Frank: Link
ZeFrank.com: Link
Ze Frank's 2004 TED appearance: Link

Y'know how I said episodes of the show could be silly or inspiring? Here's one that does both:

Chicago Events to Check in November!

Here are just a few of the things going on this month in Chicago. I won't be able to make it to all of them, but I just may make it to some. If you see me, say hello. If you don't, tell someone that Consumatron.com sent ya.

• Nov. 3rd [ Telenovela @ The Beat Kitchen (10PM, $10adv/$12doors, 18+) ]
• Nov. 6th [ Hard Boiled 10th Anniversary Party @ Four Moon Tavern (7-9PM, Free, 21+) ]
• Nov. 7th [ !!!VOTE!!! (All Day, Free, 18+) ]
• Nov. 11-12 [ South Union Arts Market @ South Union Arts Center (Noon-5PM, $??.??) ]
  
• Nov. 11th [ Mucca Pazza @ Martyr's (11:00PM, $10.00, 21+) ]
• Nov. 12th [ Hardscrabble @ Skylark (9:00PM, Free, 21+) ]
  
• Nov. 18th [ DIY Trunk Show @ Pulaski Park Fieldhouse (10AM - 4PM, Free) ]
  
• Nov. 18th [ Big Buildings @ Cal's Bar (10PM, $5.00, 21+) ]
  
• Nov. 24th [ Adam Fitz @ The Hideout (6PM, $5.00, 21+) ]
• Nov. 24th [ !!!BUY NOTHING DAY!!! ]
  
• Nov. 25th [ Intel @ Rodan (10:30PM, Free, 21+) ]
• Nov. 26th [ Casiotone For The Painfully Alone @ Empty Bottle (9:30PM, $7.00, 21+) ]

LIVE: The Silent Years & Paleo @ South Union Arts

Performer: The Silent Years & Paleo
Location: South Union Arts Center / 1352 S. Union / Chicago, IL
Date: 10/28/2006

Review: With a little work, this could be one of the better spots to see a show in Chicago. Walking by the South Union Arts Center, one might think it a run down squatter's church. That summation could be entirely accurate, except the current "squatters" pay rent and welcome others into their space. The outside of the building screams "demolition project" while the inside softly whispers, "look what I made." Perhaps if the roles were reversed, Saturday night would not have seemed like such a solemn event.

The old church, complete with movie-theater style pews and pulpit, now serves as a makeshift art gallery and concert venue where many touring bands stop to preach their own musical gospels. Spackled cracks and gurgling old radiators decorate the echoey space, which makes the already holy experience of a live concert that much more vital. One can almost see the sweaty preacher acting as god's translator right behind the sweaty musicians on stage... Well, they would have been sweaty if the heat at SUA hadn't been turned off.

SUA's 150 seat performance area enhances the immediacy of the acts on stage. A full crowd makes the space seem packed without losing the intimacy while a small crowd hovers on the border of intimate and empty.

In spite of all of South Union Arts' positive aspects, it suffers from inadequate publicity and advertising. One gets the feeling that someone wants to keep this place a secret from all of the UIC students just down the street. In my opinion, I don't think the UIC students, with their shiny new Maxwell Street bars, would care. South Union caters to the fringe hipster artist element that seems to be thriving just down Halsted in Pilsen, but everyone I have talked to from that area doesn't seem to know that South Union Arts even exists.

Venues such as South Union are vital to have in a city as culturally rich as Chicago, however I don't think the "if you build it, they will come" ethic is the best strategy for survival. SUA may have a large e-mail list and over 2000 Myspace friends, but anyone who is on Myspace (you all are) knows that for every 100 friends you have, only one will read your bulletins.

I guess I was part of the minority this time, since the crowd for Saturday's show topped out at around ten people. I may be wrong, but I think I was the only attendee who didn't have a personal connection to one of the musicians. A newspaper review or hip-happenings columnist may use the low headcount as an opportunity to criticize the musicians' draw, but I count myself lucky to have been in the audience of an intimate show. Both acts handled the circumstances with grace and gave it their all, despite the low headcount and technical difficulties of the South Union Arts' sound system.

Paleo took the stage first. From the looks of the slender musician with drab thrift store clothes draped over and around him in layers, you would expect nothing more of him than a neo-hippy who plays in drum circles under highway overpasses in some city you've never found yourself in before. Instead, Paleo plucked and strummed a creaky acoustic guitar and weaved folk stories with his soft and sweet voice and erupted into primal sandy howls to drive the point home. What could have easily been a bad open mic outing turned into a lyrically complex and sonically grabbing performance by a talented songwriter and passionate performer. Paleo (aka Dave Strakany) explores the bittersweet elements of life with a joy and drive seen in very few singer/songwriters these days. Currently working on what he calls the "song diary," Strackany is in the process of writing one song per day for 365 days, all while on tour. The shifting themes and mood of each song gave a feeling of a solitary troubadour who absorbs his passing surroundings better than most absorb the water they drink. It is a happy relief when one realizes that there are still people like Strackany out there absorbing and relating the experience of travel and human drama from town to town with a poetic tongue and sincere voice.

Closing the night was a band from Detroit called The Silent Years. Only knowing that they were from Michigan, I didn't know what to expect and prepared myself for another White Stripes clone, but when the five members took the stage and the lead singer announced "you'd think we'd be pretty disappointed that only ten people came out tonight, but we're not and we love you all," they convinced me to stay and listen. Melodic layered indie-pop that occasionally strays into sound collage experiment, then picks itself right back up-beat is what followed. With lyrics that are alternately contemplative, sanguine and sad, the band played together as if the audience were a full stadium of adoring fans, proving that these kids have the drive to become something important. The lead singer's voice has a depth and scope that makes you think that Jeff Buckley has come back from the river and made me glad I weathered the cold Chicago night and the South Union Arts Center's lack of heat.

Unfortunately, one attendee that couldn't weather the cold was SUA's sound system, which began gurgling during the band's first song. The last time The Silent Years visited Chicago, they played at The Cubby Bear on the north side, which is anything but melodic and accommodating to a touring band. My hopes is that this band doesn't eschew Chicago and its harsh mistress of luck, because the rest of Chicago could use a dose of their earnest strain of indie-rock that seems so scarce these days.

I felt sorry for the musicians and the circumstances of the night, but lucky that I was there to witness what turned out to be a great, if flawed show. I urge you to seek out their work. Links are below.

Rating:
-South Union Arts Center: 2.75 / 5
-Paleo: 4 / 5
-The Silent Years: 4.25 / 5

Paleo - website & song diary / myspace / buy album

The Silent Years - website / myspace / buy album

Visit the Forum!

CD: Yo La Tengo - I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass

Artist: Yo La Tengo
Title: I am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass
Label: Matador Records
Release: September 12, 2006
Buy this album: Amazon | Insound

Review: Though Yo La Tengo was the subject of my favorite Onion article of all time and though their album, Electr-O-Pura is one of my favorite indie rock albums of the last fifteen years, I wouldn't consider myself a loyal fan of this ubiquitously-dubbed amazing band. The eclecticism that the band infuses into every album they have ever put out does nothing but spawn respect within me, yet I often find myself reaching for other similar (some of which are faithful followers) bands' releases when in a record store. Every so often, however, I like to return to Yo La Tengo to check in and see what they are up to. Their newest album, I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass is a reminder why I should never leave in the first place.

The opening track, "Pass The Hatchet, I Think I'm Goodkind," sounds as if Thurston Moore dropped old sheet music from Washing Machine at this year's Lollapalooza and Ira Kaplan happened upon it at the after party. Despite falling into an indie rock dissonant groove that thousands of Yo La Tengo fans have heard before, the nearly eleven minute song realizes the first half of the album's title nicely, proving that Ira, James and Georgia have nothing to prove at all. As for the second half of the title, your expectations are 'your ass.'

One would expect a band that has been playing together for over twenty years to falter in the ingenuity department. Even with the diverse and comforting eclecticism of Beat Your Ass, there isn't necessarily anything new or groundbreaking in this release.

The second track, 'Beanbag Chair,' turns 180 on the first by departing from the Sonic Youth playbook and abandoning the cacophonous guitar fuzz and dirty beat for a pop melody light and bouncy. The song reads like a revelatory tale of someone realizing they have become too complacent in life. It is the lyric, "making misery out of fun" that may sum up the strength of this record. Almost as if Yo La Tengo is offering a diagnosis of the state of indy rock, it is with the second song that the listener once again understands the power of music and the album as an art form. The beat down comes when you realize that the one thing this band has not lost sight of is the joy that creating chock-full records of solid genre-bouncing songs provides.

Throughout the rest of Beat Your Ass, in all of its catchy and mellow demeanor, it becomes apparent that Yo La Tengo is still worthy of the meaning of their name. Without resorting to gimmickry, they most certainly still "have it."

Employing the subtle use of strings and a horn section on tracks such as "Black Flowers" and "Mr. Tough" takes the expected musical equation and turns it fleshy and unpredictable. The piano-led instrumental breather of a track, 'Daphnia' displays what the trio can do , given time alone to explore pattern and patience. Finishing the album, 'The Story Of Yo La Tengo' is a layered crescendo of a song with fuzzy lyrics vaguely documenting the history of the band as if it were an epic western.

Where other modern rock bands may have achieved Godfather status by continually showing us how it is done, Yo La Tengo is more of the single parent of a good friend. They have their shit in order and know what they have to do to take care of us, but they also remember that its okay to let loose every once in a while and have fun. Yo La Tengo recreates their identity several times per album, but more importantly, they remind us that it is still okay to love what you do, no matter how long you've been doing it.

Rating: 4.5 / 5

Visit the Forum!

EVENT: Consumatron.com 1st Annual Revue!

Event: Consumatron.com 1st Annual Revue!
Location: Subterranean / 2011 W. North Ave. / Chicago, IL
Date: 10/15/2006

Review: This review will be a little different. I'm too biased and out of my mind pleased with all of you that came out to celebrate this event. I hope we can do it again next year, only bigger and better! As for the reviews, I'm leaving it up to any and all of you.

Anyone who would like to contribute to the memory of this great event, please send your reviews, photos or video files to me at consumatron[@]consumatron[dot]com and I will add your content to this post.

Thanks again to everyone who came out, making this a night to remember!

First, a bit of what you missed. Here is a video clip of Lord of The Yum Yum's set from Mariapaz:

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We met interesting people---saw amazing people perform--
and witnessed OUR son host an event that made us "Proud"...
A job well done...

Consumatron's 1st year Party.
Rating 5/5

-review submitted by my parents, who made the trip down from Milwaukee just for the show. (I think I made Lord of the Yum Yum fans out of them!)

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Let's see - this is why I don't have a blog: I've got nothing to say normally.

Got there about 9:00 as Kevin was introducing the first(?) act, Charles Blackstone. I was hoping Charles would have read from his book, not someone else's, but the reading was still good. Seemed more like overhearing a conversation than the written word. While Charles was reading, I was close enough to the bar to hear the ringing of the cash register, which was interesting, given the fact that this was a celebration of consumerism.

DJ Oh Shinobi filled the gaps nicely, and the thing I was impressed with most was the fact that the music was not too loud. You could actually carry on a conversation, a rarity these days. Well done, Mr. DJ. Good tracks too.

Up next (I think) was Dan Solomon with a good riff on the three types of poems and 'poets' you get at poetry slams, an observation on 'angry' poetry, and why his Dry poem about New Orleans was not the angry, F*** Bush, F*** Dan Brown, F*** FEMA poem he expected it to be. His set was very well thought out, and actually ended on an angry note, which was kind of nice :)

DJ Oh Shinobi once again...

Then came Lord of the Yum Yum, but I think his placard initially identified him as "Maximimum Happy" or maybe I imagined that. Anyway, his frantic set was unlike anything I had ever seen, with a nice ode to consumatron.com to get us started, right in the middle of the crowd. I happened to be right next to him when the drum sticks started flailing. I don't even know how to describe what he does. I think it would be best to just go listen to a couple of pieces or view a video of a performance at his media page.


I hung out for a little more DJ Oh Shinobi, grabbed a consumatron poster, had it signed by Kevin and Peter, and skated out before the next act.

All in all, a good time for $5. Can't wait for the next one.

-review submitted by Chris Hajer

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great party last night...don't stop

-review submitted by Oh, Shinobi, who DJd the party

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I had a great time on Sunday! I cannot wait until the next one.

-review submitted by Shannon

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Hey Kevin. I think the night went awesome, except for the fact that am I therapist and work with people with disabilities and had a few friends from work there...not so hip on the comedian who went on before Adam. But, nevertheless, we are all entitled to tell our story in any fashion deemed so.

Congratulations on your first year and a great party. Let's do it next year.

-review submitted by Meghan

Chicago Events to Check in October!

Things I want to do in October. If you see me, say hi. If you know of an event that you think I should attend, please send me a message and maybe I will list it here.

This is top priority! 5 Performers! $5! $2 Schlitz.
Why wouldn't you come to this?

• Oct. 1-14 [ Conrad Freiburg's Slipping Glimpser @ Linda Warren Gallery ]
• Oct. 7 [ Adam Fitz @ Gunther Murphy's (9PM, $8)
  
• Oct. 7 [ Lord of the Yum Yum @ Empty Bottle (10PM, $10) ]
  
• Oct. 9 [ Jhumpa Lahiri @ Harold Washington Library (6PM - Free) ]
• Oct. 28 [ Negativland @ Lakeshore Theater ( 10:00 PM, $15 )

ART/EVENT: Conrad Freiburg's Slipping Glimpser @ Linda Warren Gallery

Event: Conrad Freiburg's Slipping Glimpser Opening Night
Location: Linda Warren Gallery / 1052 W. Fulton Market / Chicago, IL
Date: 09/08/2006

Review: Upon meeting Conrad Freiburg, "artist" isn't the first word that pops to mind. His dress and demeanor would seem to place him at the local dive bar with blistered hands wrapped around a pint glass. It's the disarming smile and wonder in his eyes that makes one realize that Conrad is a thinker. As a freelance woodworker, he is also a doer. His work ethic and practicality in daily life may be one of the things that makes Conrad's artistic and fantastical visions so much more accessible. Freiburg knows art is serious business, but his work doesn't aim to exclude anyone from the base enjoyment of it all.

That enjoyment and wonder that underlines all of Freiburg's past works has been uprooted and stacked atop itself in his newest work. Finding himself simultaneously fascinated with the Chicago Columbian Exposition of 1893 (The World's Fair made popular by the book Devil In The White City) and the philosophy and work of artist Willem DeKooning, The Slipping Glimpser was born. DeKooning often thought himself most useful and interesting when he was on the brink of meaning. If he knew exactly what he was doing, the mood would dampen into banality, but when he was working on something where the outcome was unknown, that was interesting. He was slipping.

The slipping part of it all was only half of it for Freiburg. On New Year's Eve, 2004/05, Conrad built a large wooden ramp for the stray bowling balls in his warehouse apartment (one I was lucky enough to share with him at the time). The idea was that you didn't need to turn on the television to watch a ball drop. You could watch the ball drop over and over again. On the floor in front of the ramp, Conrad painted a bright red and white bulls-eye. When the bowling balls dropped that night, they destroyed. The idea, despite all of its destruction and mess, was beautiful. Some at the New Year's party smashed bottles, some smashed old toys from their childhood. Beyond breaking our resolutions (literally), there was the minor thrill of the interaction between the people. Oh yes, and the danger.

Eventually, the temporality of whatever was put in the bowling ball's path (not to mention the temporality of the ramp itself as it wore down) clicked with Freiburg's fascination with the World's Fair. People from all walks of life worked hard and long to erect the famous White City, only to have it torn down shortly after. Yet, the 1893 World's Fair is one of the most remembered. A fleeting moment of historical beauty to be remembered long after the active creators had passed. The immortality of experience and grandeur, adhering to Daniel Burnham's maxim to "make no small plans, they have no passion to stir men's blood", was what made the World's Fair survive history. Freiburg held on to this thought and began expanding the ramp into an unknown interactive and towering structure that would both pay homage to the inspiration and set out to thrill the new audience. As he was building the namesake structure, Freiburg himself became a Slipping Glimpser in the most satisfying process.

Equally satisfying is the result, which is now on display at the Linda Warren Gallery in the Fulton Market gallery district of Chicago. While galleries are widely known for being sparse and sterile, Conrad's winding structure, constructed from ash wood, fills the space. Covering the entire length, breadth and height of the gallery, the Slipping Glimpser inspires awe from all ages even before it is put into action. At the opening reception on the evening of September 8th, people clutched their free beer, hot dogs and popcorn while carefully examining each of the Slipping Glimpsers sections and mechanisms. Many seemed to be wondering what the point was. The inspiration of the World's Fair is represented by 12 simple computer print outs, labeling the various architectural wonders and locations that once were, proving that Freiburg doesn't need to rely on other's work to "stir men's blood." Children and adults alike could be seen poking and prodding the numerous moving parts that included cranks, harnesses for the bowling balls and track shifting levers.

With a crowd larger than any I have witnessed at a gallery opening, Freiburg brought out the specially made transparent bowling ball. Encased inside of each ball are remnants of Freiburg's other sculptures that were destroyed under the original ramp at a fundraiser event held at his previous loft apartment. The ball was placed at the beginning of the structure and from there, it was up to the audience to make the Slipping Glimpser slip.

The mechanisms that propel the bowling ball through the Slipping Glimpser's twelve sections are slow and clunky. As a little girl turned the crank to send the ball up the first incline, I first heard groans of impatience, then gasps of anticipation. Patience and effort are integral parts of the sculpture's meaning and effect. Long bouts of clicking and turning cranks are rewarded, however, with quick, slick and dangerous bursts of kinetic energy that sends the ball careening down ramps, through a complete loop and around curves. One section of the sculpture takes 400 cranks to lift the bowling ball up a minor incline. It would be just as easy to pick the ball up and place it at the top, but all of the hard work is often what makes Freiburg's work pay off. After several twists, turns, climbs and zig-zagging descents, the finale of the Slipping Glimpser cashes in with a ramp that sends the ball hurtling through the air to crash down on a wooden landing representing the "Agricultural Arena" of the World's Fair, which not only catches, but also feeds the ball back to the initial harness. The final destruction and quick wear and tear that each moving part of the sculpture experiences caused several "breakdowns" during the show, but it is these breakdowns that remind us of the destruction that goes hand in hand with the creation of art. It reminds us of the impermanence of beauty and what awaits anyone who holds on to things too tightly. When each moving part of the structure is reset, or reconstructed, by hand, the thrill and anticipation is not exhausted. Rather, the audience quickly became a team in setting the sculpture in motion again.

Part Rube Goldberg kinetic sculpture and part meditation on the very nature of creativity itself, Freiburg's Slipping Glimpser succeeds in doing what very few modern art pieces do. While most modern art comments and re-contextualizes, it leaves very little room for interpretation or engagement of the audience. The Slipping Glimpser downplays the artistic and aggrandizes the community required to sustain the art world. Though certainly one man's vision, the Slipping Glimpser becomes everyone's memory. Even if the memory is the fear of a wide-eyed child being crushed by a speeding lucite ball flying off of a rickety wooden track, the Slipping Glimpser engages and excites without sacrificing the high-art concepts that are to be found by those who wish to dig a bit. Alongside the immense joy you will experience while witnessing this structure in action, that is the Slipping Glimpser's true success.

It has been said that art has the ability to bring people together. Conrad Freiburg has succeeded in doing so with the Slipping Glimpser. Never before, has a gallery show been so full of joy and devoid of pretense. Chicago is lucky to have artists of his calibre, but with our gallery culture focusing on consumables rather than creativity, we may need to work a bit harder if we wish to keep him.

You can start by making your way over to the Linda Warren Gallery (located on 1052 W. Fulton Market) before the show closes on October 14th.

Rating: 4.5 / 5

Linda Warren Gallery: LINK
Conrad Freiburg's Analogy Shop: LINK

Douglas Rushkoff Interviewed In New Boing Boing Podcast

Writer, media theorist and friend of Consumatron.com, Douglas Rushkoff is interviewed on the new Boing Boing podcast, "Get Illuminated." It seems like Boing Boing is going crazy with the podcasts lately... and I say hurrah!

Some of the topics Rushkoff speaks about are the renewed interest in Timothy Leary and Aleister Crowley, the plot of the new comic he's writing for Vertigo comics and the book he's been waiting all his life to write. A discussion with Doug, whether it be on the weather or the future of media, is always guaranteed to push the boundaries of conventional thought and make you think, so be sure to give this one a listen!

More info is available at Boing Boing in the original post: LINK
Download the MP3 version of the podcast here: LINK

**And don't forget to read the Mediatron review of Douglas Rushkoff's phenomenal business book, "Get Back In The Box," here: LINK

COMIC: Charlie C. Chatterbee: World's 1st Educated Puppet

Title: Charlie C. Chatterbee: World's 1st Educated Puppet
Author: Peter Klockau
Publisher: Self-Published / On The Market

Review: (Note: In the spirit of full disclosure, I feel I must tell you that artist and writer Peter Klockau and I are good friends. Obviously, this creates a natural bias that most journalists would look down upon. Luckily, my editor is a real stand-up guy and has allowed this review to be published. I understand if you stop reading this review based on my friendship with the subject, but it will be your loss. With all of this knowledge out on the table, I have tried to be as objective and critical of my good friend's work as I can. Besides, if Pete can't take a few jabs from his good friend, he should think about covering the tab more often when we go out (I'm kidding... I can't be bought with beer... not with the amount bought on his salary anyway...which is why someone should publish Pete now).)

Peter Klockau's work is primarily self-published. A few of his illustrations have been used in tour ads for bands signed to Bloodshot Records as well as others. Most recently, his work was seen on windows and bulletin boards around Chicago advertising Munly and the Lee Lewis Harlots' show at the South Union Arts Center. While relatively unknown, Peter's use of mature moods contrasted with a cartoon style is unmistakable and is sure to become a part of the visual lexicon of band-flyer scholars and comics aficionados everywhere.

Though not his first self-published comic, Charlie Chatterbee has taken Klockau's storytelling to a level higher than most widely published comic writers achieve in their first major work. His previous work can be seen on the daily comics blog over at peteklockau.blogspot.com. Though his style and ability to portray accurate facial expressions via anthropomorphic bears and hairballs is apparent from this early work, the story telling is jagged and rushed.

Chatterbee is the story of what Klockau calls an "educated puppet." The protagonist is an out of work and out of place ventriloquist doll named Charlie who once was a popular stage attraction shortly after the end of the first world war. After a national depression, another world war and the advent of America's favorite pastime (television), the public didn't have much enthusiasm for Charlie and his ilk anymore. Unfortunately for Charlie C. Chatterbee, World's First Educated Puppet, live theater is all he and his handler, Mickey, knew. The two of them kept up the act for rapidly shrinking crowds until Mickey finally passed away and Charlie fell into a great depression of his own. Along with a few other vaudeville sidekicks (A magician's rabbit named Lester and a boa constrictor named Humphrey), Charlie spends his days lounging around an old boarded up theater that is all but forgotten to the rapidly evolving world outside. It is unusual for a comic only twenty pages in length to serve as an exposition, a comment on society and an entertaining story all in one go. Klockau, however, manages to find an adequate pace for all of these ideas without anything feeling rushed.

Chatterbee, with all of its cuteness and anthropomorphism, could easily be dismissed as a children's story upon first glance, but Chatterbee's mannerisms and habits don't allow for this pigeonholing. Not only does a smoking ventriloquist doll send a negative message to children, but one stray spark could be the end for the wooden protagonist. Beyond these superficial, yet integral, aspects of the character's personality lay far more complex themes that could each be examined at length in future issues. From the anxieties of a changing world and the unstoppable acceleration of the mediascape to the theme of taking control of one's own destiny, Chatterbee could turn out to be an engaging and imaginative morality tale told through the comics medium. The most satisfying issue dealt with in this book, however, is how someone goes about finding their own voice. Bereft of the old showman, Mickey, Chatterbee must speak for himself. The ventriloquist doll must speak for himself. This is a dangerous setup that Klockau has penned for himself and his characters, but it is one that the reader cannot help but want to explore. This story could easily drift into heavy-handed and shallow allegory, but if Chatterbee is meant to appeal to adults and educated poppets alike, the fine line it so deftly balances atop needs to be maintained.

Character exposition is quick and heavy during the latter part of the book. While Chatterbee's character is only exposed through his own inner monologue, Lester and Humphrey give away much of themselves through snappy dialogue. I was left, appropriately, wanting to learn more about Chatterbee, but almost bored with the comic relief of his two sidekicks. Though they are well placed to serve as a counterpoint to Chatterbee's silent brooding, I found myself hoping that future antics are more subdued. Perhaps I felt this way because of the comic's abrupt ending. Though the cliffhanger ending is appropriate and the second-to-last page is a masterpiece in itself, I felt that as a first issue, the book ended with a cliffhanger feeling that belongs closer to the "third act."

Told primarily through era-appropriate first-person colloquial voiceover through Charlie, none of the panels or pages are cluttered with text. Instead, Klockau knows exactly when to let his heavy-lined drawings do the talking. with stark black and white depictions of each character and setting, just as much of the story is intimated through images as it is through words. Despite the use of voiceover, Klockau knows that comics are not simply novels with pictures or films with print. It is rare that such an early work is aware of its place in the media landscape. From this foundation, Klockau's future work is more than likely going to push boundaries rather than bounce around aimlessly inside of them as most modern independent comics do.

Anyone with a taste for intelligent, yet fun, comic book literature should keep an eye on the shelves for Klockau's work. In the meantime, you can check out his daily comics blog or other illustration work through the links below.

Rating: 4 / 5

Peter Klockau's Daily Comic Blog: LINK
Klockau Illustration: LINK

ROADSIDE ATTRACTION: The House On The Rock

Attraction: The House On The Rock
Location: Highway 23 (Between Spring Green & Dodgeville) / Spring Green, WI
Date Of Visit: 09/07/06

Review: How far would you go to defend your father's honor against an off-handed comment made by an egotistical architect whose structures may look pretty but all leak? Alex Jordan Jr. went the distance. When Frank Lloyd Wright dismissed Jordan's father from the Taliesin home by telling him, "I wouldn't hire you to design a cheese crate or a chicken coop," Jordan Jr's craw got royally clogged and the Drano still hasn't gotten through after his death. Begun in the 1940's, the House on the Rock was built as a parody of Wright's architectural style on one of the highest points surrounding the famed studio home of Wright. At first, the house was only an oddity due to its epileptic Japanese style and death-defying way it wrapped itself in and around the very rock cliff it was built upon. As time marched on and Jordan Jr. became ever more the obsessed builder and collector, the House expanded into what is widely opined to be the world's Mecca of roadside attractions. The writer Neil Gaiman even went so far as to use the House On The Rock as a location in his great novel, American Gods, where he suggests that it is the spiritual center of America. After visiting this strange and wonderful complex twice now, I have a very strong feeling that Gaiman could be right.

To do the House on The Rock justice, one would have to write volumes. I suggest you read my brief overview, then plan a trip there yourself. No words can do this peculiarity justice.

The House On The Rock complex consists of the original house and several intertwined buildings containing some of the rarest and most awe inspiring pieces of worldly ephemera Wisconsin has to offer. There are three tours available for visitors to take. All are self guided. My group of oddity addicts decided to go for all three. Even before entering, we found ourselves commenting on the cement lizard sculptures in the parking lot, the wizard statue near the entrance and the large cement marking that is labeled as a dinosaur foot print from the "dinosaur age." Obviously research and specifics took a backseat to Jordan Jr's hoarding.

The first tour consists of the house itself. With warping rooms, walls that alternate between wood and jagged edges of the rock itself and ceilings far too low for the 6'4" Jordan, there is a claustrophobic and displaced feeling one feels while walking through the house. Within the first five minutes of your journey, you pass indoor fountains, antique and exotic furniture, sculptures of saints and demons and animatronic music machines which contain actual instruments that are outfitted with mechanical contraptions that cause the music to play itself. Most of these machines cost tokens, which you can purchase from change machines along the way, but if you tour the HOTR on a busy day, you will probably be able to witness the bizarre ingenuity free of charge. All three tours contain pieces of foreshadowing as to what will come next along your path, but the House, with all of its priceless and juxtaposed knickknacks, seems to be the cluttered closet from which everything you are about to see came.

The most impressive and precarious section of the house is the famed Infinity Room, which is a long and diminishing corridor that hangs out from the house over 218 feet with no support. As you walk to the end of the Infinity room, you come to a window in the floor which allows you to look down over the tops of the trees below you. 150 feet below is the ground. As the Infinity Room creaks and sways in the wind, I couldn't help but wonder when it might fall.

Once you exit the house, enter the house, then exit the house again, you soon find yourself on a recreation of a dark cobblestone alleyway. Known as The Streets Of Yesterday, this section is where the reality of Jordan's hoarding obsession sets in. By peering through windows of shop recreations, you will witness blacksmithing tools, typewriters, dentistry instruments that could be used as torture devices, puppets and more. One of the stand out shop window displays is that of an old apothecary. Through the windows, you are able to see actual medicine bottles and ads from the early days of chemical healing. Two of my favorites were "Dr. Kilmer's Female Remedy" and the ingenious weight loss solution, sanitized tape worms. Just swallow a couple of tape worms and eat as much as you want. You'll always stay thin!

Though the buildings that house these odd collections are not a thing of beauty, the transition from one to the other is overshadowed by your open-mouthed awe at the unbelievable amounts of stuff surrounding you. Somehow, we soon found ourselves in a towering room with a ramp that wrapped around the outside, climbing four stories. In the middle, sits a two hundred foot high sculpture of a whale-like sea monster simultaneously battling a squid and enjoying a meal of unfortunate sailors. Along the journey upwards you see various maritime artifacts and model ships.

Somewhere between the Heritage of the sea (as the maritime exhibit is dubbed) and the House's famed Carousel Room sits an exhibit of armor, weaponry and Asian artifacts. These rooms are also loaded with music machines such as an accordion symphony and a giant diorama of Chinese instruments, figures and decor known as the Mikado. The Mikado is one of the most complex music machines throughout the HOTR's three tours. With countless moving parts including lutes, drums and even Chinese fans, the haunting tune that plays after you drop two tokens in is as mesmerizing as the physicality of the Mikado itself.


My personal favorite piece of musical equipment, however, is one that cannot be played, token or not. In a small Victorian display sits an odd machine known as a phonoliszt violina, which is a piano that contains three violins inside which can be controlled by the keys and foot pedals. This is the only phonoliszt violina on display in America (someone correct me if I am wrong). Anyone know where I can take lessons to learn how to play this bizarre instrument?

Next came the Carousel Room. There are actually three carousels in the House on the Rock complex, but the centerpiece of all of the revolving madness is the world's largest carousel which consists of over 239 unique carousel creatures from around the world. None of the carousel statues, by the way, are horses. Instead, the figures on the carousel range from humanoid to lizard to monster. More automated instruments blare and sputter around you as a theme song that sounds as if it were from a circus in a David Lynch film blares you through the exit which is shaped like a gargoyle's mouth.

The beginning of the third and final tour starts with the Organ room, which not only contains several old organs and whiskey stills (don't ask, because I don't know), but also serves as an organ yourself. As you wrap and wind up and around the dim red-lit building, you begin to notice stray pipes and sounds coming from behind walls and through openings. Never quite sure where the keys were or where the mechanics start or stop, there is nothing to do at this point but wander, point and click away if your batteries have held up.

At this point, our visit had taken us over three hours. It would have been a lot longer had we come on a day where there were more visitors. We lucked out. The next room which featured an enormous cannon that must have needed an elephant to operate it, another carousel with nothing but dolls on it and various other weaponry and artifacts of innocence, took us no less than a half hour to wander around. Through the next doorway, we heard what sounded suspiciously like alpha male whining. This was verified when we realized that the next room was the doll room. Dolls and their houses of all sizes are collected and set up behind glass windows. The male whining ahead of us came in the form of a curt and fragile voice loudly proclaiming that the owner wasn't "gonna look at any stupid dollhouses." There is a lot of the old world captured and collected in the various exhibits of The House on The Rock and, apparently, this also applies to some of the people who visit. Though I am not a dollhouse enthusiast either, I found myself stopping every so often to admire the precision and attention to detail that some of the antique toys and models contained.


As a fitting extension to the Doll room, the next and final section of the tour was a collection of miniature scale circus dioramas. This was basically a stylistic repeat of the Doll Room with tents instead of houses and freaks instead of young girls in dresses. The amount of detail in some of these miniatures was, again, phenomenal. Some of the pieces, I realized, had been featured on an episode of the PBS show, Antiques Roadshow that I saw a few weeks back and, if memory serves, are quite valuable.

After gazing in awe for just a few moments more, my friends and I finally saw the light of the world's worst gift shop. Perhaps it was due to the overwhelming amount of rare and unique ephemera we had just wandered through, but I just don't think a wooden door knocker captures the essence of the House on the Rock. With even more unrelated gift shops on the way out of The House On The Rock (Oh my god! That sweatshirt with a kitten face on it and the HOTR logo is so cute! I have to buy twelve for my nephews!) we made a hobbled sprint-walk to the car. The look but don't buy rule could not be more appropriate here.

The House on the Rock is a place of wonder and ultimate commitment of someone who didn't know when to stop at anything. If Alex Jordan Jr. were still alive today, there is no doubt in my mind that he would still be pinching every penny in order to buy the world's oldest totem pole or some such other item. The purpose would be unknown to us as Jordan was quite the hermit and unpleasant human being who was obsessed with lonely grandeur, but the result would have been to provide yet another room or collection that made people pause along the way with mouths hanging open, oohing, aahing or asking what it was all about. Now that the state of Wisconsin owns the attraction, there are additions that are made every so often. Some of the restorations and forthcoming additions have been in the works for nearly twenty years which leads me to believe that we will never see a completion to this bizarre world of obsession and oddball history.

No single visit to the House on the Rock can explain what is contained on that rock in Spring Green, Wisconsin. I've had trouble doing justice to the parts that remain in my memory. The House on the Rock will appeal to those interested in architecture, museums and thrift stores, but the people who absolutely need to make the trip to this funhouse of frivolity are the ones like me, who find attractions like the world's largest ball of twine far more interesting than the Four Seasons hotel.

The House On The Rock is the ultimate in roadside attractions. Every smashed penny museum, oversized plaster animal statue and wonder spot in the country dreams about becoming this fantastic. There are most assuredly ghosts living here... Ghosts that have been made gods by virtue of the time and attention given to them.

Rating: 4.75 / 5

Bonus: I was able to find an mp3 of what a phonoliszt violina sounds like when played: Listen.

Chicago Events To Check In September!

Things I want to do in September. If you see me, say hi. If you don't, say hi to someone else you don't personally know.

• Sept. 1-3 [ Chicago Jazz Festival @ Grant Park (12 - 11PM, Free) ]
• Sept. 8 [ Conrad Freiburg's Slipping Glimpser @ Linda Warren Gallery (6 - 9PM, Free) ]
• Sept. 9 [ Handmade Market @ Empty Bottle (Noon - 4:30PM, Free) ]
• Sept. 16-17 [ Renegade Craft Fair @ 1425 N. Damen (11AM - 6PM, Free) ]
• Sept. 20-24 [ The Wire's 4th Annual Adventures In Modern Music @ The Empty Bottle (9PM, $15/day) ]
• Sept. 28 [ Alpana Singh @ Women & Children First (7:30 PM, Free) ]
• Sept. 29 [ Chicago Critical Mass @ Daley Plaza (5:30 PM, Free) ]
  
• Sept. 29 [ Tortoise @ Empty Bottle (7PM & 10PM, $18/ea.) ]
  

Chicago Events To Check In August!

Here is a list of the events I am going to try and make it to this month. If you happen to see me there, come up and say hi. I'll give you some buttons.

• [ Aug. 5 - Lord Of The Yum Yum @ Big Horse (10PM, $5, 21+) ] (missed it!)
  
• [ Aug. 9 - Tom Waits @ Auditorium Theatre (Sold Out) ] (reviewed)
  
• [ Aug. 12 - Heaven Gallery Fundraiser w/performance by Quantazelle Postponed ]
• [ Aug. 13 - Quantazelle performs with Landau @ Rodan (Free) Cancelled ]
• [ Aug. 12-13 - Cal's Fest 2006 w/performances by Big Buildings (Sat.) and Pyrite (Sun.) (3PM - ??, $5, 21+) ] (reviewed)
• [ Aug. 19 - Handmade Market @ Empty Bottle (Noon - 4:30PM, Free) ] (missed it!)
• [ Aug. 25 - Split Lip Rayfield, Dirty Howlers and Pyrite @ Empty Bottle (10:00 PM, $15, This is SRF's last show and tickets are going fast, so contact the bottle quick!) ] (SOLD OUT)
  

Related Reviews

[ A Scratch Made In Heaven / Quantazelle - Coaster ]

LIVE: Hardscrabble & Pyrite @ Cal's Fest 2006

Performer: Hardscrabble & Pyrite @ Cal's Fest 2006
Location: Cal's Bar / 400 S. Wells / Chicago, IL
Date: 08/13/06

Review: "Y'know, if you stand here long enough, the dumpsters start to smell like popcorn" my girlfriend said to me over the washboard stylings of Chicago's Hardscrabble. I can't think of a better quote for Cal's Bar, which sits a couple of blocks away from and a hundred levels lower than the Sears Tower. Cal's unassuming corner liquor store exterior has always been the kind of place where you find treasure among trash to me. Formerly closed on weekends and catering to Loop businessmen, Cal's now opens its doors on the Financial District Lords' days of rest in order to give homeless, hipsters and hillbillies a place to drink cheap, talk dirty and rock hard. Every Friday and Saturday, you can head down to Cal's and witness three or four bands of varying quality for no cover. A day's worth of collecting aluminum will score you a few drinks and if you end up liking the music, you can use your spare change to tip the bands (the only payment Cal's offers... and the employee's shirts insist on it). The success of this equation led Cal's to start their own music festival in 2002, dubbing it, simply, Cal's Fest.

2 days. 16 bands. $10.00.

Eat your heart out Lollapitchtonation!

I was on hand Sunday, Aug. 13th to see two of the fest's bands play. One hillbilly jug-style and the other a balls-out rock group. That brings us to the popcorn scented dumpsters.

Cal's fest isn't in a park or even in the dimly-lit, ash-coated corner of Cal's itself. This rock festival might be the only one that takes place in an alleyway lined with garbage bins. It couldn't be more appropriate. The far end of the alley contains a small stage and just beyond lies the onramp to the Eisenhower Expressway. With an armband (or in my girlfriend's and my case, a handstamp that read "100% SHIT") to let the girl pulling beers out of rolling coolers know you paid the gate fee and are old enough to drink, the mood isn't much different than those hot summer nights outside of your cousin's garage leaning on his Camaro. Only here, there's no Camaro, no annoying nephews running around with snot on their shirts and a lot better music than the classic rock station your cousin has pumping out of his trunk speakers.

Hardscrabble

$2 PBR in hand, I glanced around the alley to see thirty or so people mulling about, tapping toes, smoking and dancing in place. While I shook a few hands and said hi to a few friends, my ears perked up at a song utterly familiar to me, yet unrecognizable due to the washboard percussion and thigh-slapping rhythm that was added to it. An old-timey country whine chorus gave the lyrics I should have known a twang they'd never had before. It wasn't until a couple of days later when I had to have someone tell me that this song was the Tom Waits' song, "Jockey Full Of Bourbon." Despite my confusion, the performers on the Cal's Fest stage drew my attention.

Hardscrabble is a trio consisting of guitarist John Hasbrouck (Cracklin' Moth), washboard percussionist Lawrence Peters (Plastic Crimewave Sound, Velcro Lews & His 100 Proof Band) and brand spankin' new upright bassist Josh Piet (The Hoyle Brothers). Forget alt-country, Hardscrabble is a real country group right here in the not-so-country landscape of Chicago. Amidst all of the skyscrapers and fancy dressed hotdogs, these guys manage to pluck and scrape out a rhythm that can turn even the crustiest alley by the freeway into a saloon. The self-admitted "jugless jug band" had Cal's Fest attendees hootin' and hollerin' as they turned standards and classics into a country version of free jazz. One can tell that John, Lawrence and Josh are all competent musicians capable of playing any of the numerous songs they cover they way it originally sounded, but the freeform playfulness between them in their live show is what makes Hardscrabble stand out. If Django Rheinhardt had played a laundry appliance, this is the sound I imagine he would have made.

Pyrite

From the riverside rhythms of Hardscrabble, that both hipster and hip-replacement patient could enjoy, Cal's fest shifted without a clutch into the three piece garage rock stylings of Pyrite. With a disjointed and driving rock sound, this young band has a smattering of psychedelia on its edges and a great energy on stage. With tongue-in-cheek dirty-rock songs like "Arrest That Cop" and "Automatic Drip," Pyrite can't help but to project that energy into the crowd during its live show. Comprised of guitarist Mike Green, bassist Brandon Bayles and drummer Geoff Atkinson (Telenovela), Pyrite played what would have been a solid set if a bass string hadn't snapped during the second song. Bayles is the vocal strength of the group and plays bass more like he had a six string playing rhythm, which occasionally gives the aural illusion of two guitars. Green's guitar style reminds me of the 13th Floor Elevators or The Red Krayola by wavering in and out of tune intentionally. Atkinson, as I have pointed out before, is the consummate drummer, happy to avoid the onstage rock antics of his bandmates (which nearly ended in collision) and beat out more complex rhythms than Pyrite's songs require.

After recovering from a defective bass guitar, Pyrite scorched through a solid set of the kind of rock music a person comes to expect from a bar like Cal's. During their final number, Bayles broke the song down into a squelch of feedback and effects from the pedals at his feet. It's a sound I am perfectly content to listen to for the textures and raw power of noise, but hope to see these textures incorporated into Pyrite's songs at future shows.

With only two bands under my belt, I left Cal's Fest 2006 feeling as if only Cal's could offer me as diverse a festival in only two hours. When the scene gets old and Chicago starts to get the best of me, it is establishments like Cal's that survive in the heart of the city that cheer me up. There is still something pure beneath all of the steel and glass and it's holding a cold beer in one hand... and a guitar in the other.

Rating: 4 / 5

Cal's Bar: [ Website / Compilation CD ]

Hardscrabble: [ Website / Myspace / Buy Their CD ]

Pyrite: [ Myspace ]

Other: [ More pictures of Cal's Fest @ Consumatron's Flickr Stream ]

LIVE: Tom Waits - 08/09/06 - Chicago, IL

Performer: Tom Waits
Location: Auditorium Theatre / 430 S. Michigan Ave. / Chicago, IL
Date: 08/09/06

Review: Remember that feeling you had when you were a teenager? It was that feeling that if you didn't get to see your favorite musician, you would die or at least drink more of your friends' parents' wine coolers and Busch Light that weekend. When I was younger, I kept a mental list of musicians I needed to see before I could die a happy man. As I got older, the list got shorter as I started to see some of the bands on that list. Mostly it got shorter, however, because my priorities in life changed. I'll always be a passionate music lover and fan, but no more am I fanatic to the point where I would knock over a baby carriage to see a show. The one artist who never got scratched off that list, however, is Tom Waits. It is safe to say that the musically inclined part of myself can now die a happy man.

Tom Waits has always been the poet laureate of music to me. There are other greats like Lennon, Cohen and Drake, but for pure emotion, honesty and straightforward delivery, no one tops Waits in my book. Whether it is a young drunken man pontificating from a piano bench (Nighthawks At The Diner), a traveler down on his luck (Rain Dogs) or a man who simply wants to tinker with the tools in his studio and scream wildly (Get Behind The Mule, Real Gone), Waits has never failed to hit a nerve with me.

Despite having seats in Chicago's Auditorium Theatre so high up that my nose was afraid to bleed, there really isn't a bad seat in this beautiful building. Other than having a bit of trouble making out the bands features, Wednesday's show didn't fail to delight. Starting almost 45 minutes late, the lines to get into the all-Will Call show were quite long and the delay was probably more of a courtesy than a way to make the crowd anxious. Waits requests that all liquor sales are halted before the show begins due to the fact that his live performances are just as much theatre and storytelling as they are music so this delay gave the drinkers enough time to finish their drinks and woozily make it to their seats. Besides, all one had to do was to look around the audience to see several men who were old enough to know better dressed, primped and postured to look exactly like Tom Waits himself. There is no doubt in my mind that some of these guys still would knock over a baby carriage to see this show.

When Tom finally did take the stage, which was strewn and set with speakers, instruments and acoustical toys in a small mountain, he was in top carnival barker form. His signature gravelled voice came on stark and strong. As the band kept their wobbly precision to the song "Make It Rain," Tom screamed the chorus as if he was really addressing the clouds, who, he knows, have more power than the gods. Next came the clattering, but irrefutably danceable "Hoist That Rag." Dressed in his signature suit and hat, Tom rarely moved from the small wooden platform provided for him in front of a stack of bullhorn-style speakers. Spasming and pulling at the air with his clutching hands, the theatrics were present, but all necessary and all natural. After a few songs, the stage banter Waits is known (and lauded) for began. Most of it was Chicago themed as Waits spent a short time living in Chicago in the seventies. He said something about cows, but much of what was said was muffled due to the distance to our gallery seats.

The first highlight, for me, was when a piano was wheeled out onto the stage and Waits fell back into his old ways of tickling keys and tickling the audience with songs and banter. Though only two songs long, the piano set contained two of his best. First came "Tango Till They're Sore" followed by a story about Chicago's famous Wiener's Circle and how the employees there called Tom a "dickweed." Ending his respite at the ivory was "Tom Traubert's Blues," which seemed to be a crowd favorite.

Judging by Tom's speaking voice, many of the more blues driven songs with harsh staccato lyrics were expected. The gruff storyteller's personality had given way to a more rollicking country-tinged one as Waits picked up a small guitar to play rhythm. The stories he did tell, through the songs "Eyeball Kid" and "What's He Building In There?" took on a sound-collage creepiness while some of his other well known songs were hardly recognizable until they were well underway. Many of the songs were provided with a more bluesy beat than they originally had, but the band and Waits himself were having a good time morphing well known masterpieces into something completely different and equally enjoyable. Toward the end of the first set, they played a medley of the old Howlin' Wolf song "Who's Been Talking?" mixed with Waits' own "Till The Money Runs Out." At moments, it was as if they were blending the two songs like a DJ would. The first set ended with a powerful feed of "Get Behind The Mule."

After only a few minutes of crowd roar Tom took the stage again and with a spotlight on him and his guitar, he sang a somber and moving rendition of the searching soldier's song, "The Day After Tomorrow." The audience was moved to silence with a few uncontrollable cries of admiration. From the quiet, the band re-emerged with an explosive version of "Singapore."

Previous to attending the show, I had been reading the setlists for the other stops on this short Orphans Tour (a tour to celebrate the release of Waits' 3-disc Orphans Rarities Box Set) to get an idea of what to expect. The first thing I did not expect was a second encore. Most of the setlists I had read included only one, but after five more minutes of darkened cheering and enough foot stamping to bring the 100+ year old Auditorium Theatre down, the band came back and slid directly into "Whistling Past The Graveyard." What followed was completely unexpected. I had secret hopes that Tom would play my favorite song. I could revert to my teen self and write a review as long as this one, explaining all of the different things that song has meant to me at different times, but I will spare you. Regardless, I didn't think Tom's voice was up for it and I haven't seen a setlist from the last ten years where he had played that song so I had completely written it out of the realm of possibility. So, when Waits quietly sang, "The smart money's on Harlem..." I very nearly turned into a twelve year old girl seeing the New Kids On The Block. Of course, I regained my composure, put my arm around my girlfriend, swayed and quietly sang along to my favorite Tom Waits song, "Time."

So, I'm done with lists. Every concert I see from now on is simply more icing on the icing. Tom Waits was the pinnacle. The requirement filled. Waits had an amazing presence that ricocheted from playful to stern and his backing band was spot on each time. The stand-up bassist and vibe/banjo/keyboard players gave exceptional performances. I only wish I could have heard Waits' spoken banter better so I knew what their names were. Regardless, each second of the show was carried off without a hitch and I cannot remember the last time I was filled with so much awe at a concert. My condolences to all who were unable to get tickets.

Setlist

Make It Rain
Hoist That Rag
Shore Leave
God's Away On Business
All The World Is Green
Falling Down
Tango Till They're Sore
Tom Traubert's Blues
Eyeball Kid
Down In The Hole
Don't Go Into That Barn
Shake It
Trampled Rose
What's He Building In There
Who's Been Talking / Till The Money Runs Out
Murder in the Red Barn
Lie To Me Baby
Get Behind The Mule

Day After Tomorrow
Singapore

Whistlin' Past The Graveyard
Time

Rating: 4.75 / 5

BOOK: The Prestige by Christopher Priest

Title: The Prestige
Author: Christopher Priest
Publisher: Tor Books
ISBN: 0312858868
List Price: $14.95

Review: In most magic, misdirection plays a major role in getting an audience to believe that what has just transpired is a result of supernatural forces. In Christopher Priest's The Prestige, misdirection is not used to fool the reader into thinking something supernatural has taken place, but rather to keep the mystery and intrigue of a multi-generational feud at the forefront of the reader's mind.

The Prestige is a novel about two turn of the century stage magicians whose feud, in perfect Houdini homage, begins when one Alfred Borden publically uncovers the secrets of Rupert Angier during a house call seance. From this moment forward, the two competing stage magicians stop at nothing to sabotage each other's headlining magic career in order to further their own. It is with one seemingly impossible stage trick called The Transported Man, where Alfred Bordon steps into one wooden cabinet and instantaneously emerges from another cabinet located across the theatre stage, that the two magician's feud escalates into a deadly game. The Transported Man is the one trick that Rupert Angier cannot dissect or recreate. Determined to know Bordon's secrets, Angier stops at nothing to either discover how the trick is performed or create his own superior version of the trick.

When Angier meets a reclusive and hardworking physicist by the name of Nikola Tesla, whose work in electrical conductivity through the atmosphere is both mysterious and controversial, he gains the upper hand. Enlisting Tesla to build him a powerful and dangerous machine to aide in his stage routine, Angier gains the upper hand he needs to outshow Borden in the arena of Victorian era stage magic. It is with this new trick that the tables are turned on the magicians' feud. Borden becomes the victim of both professional and personal curiosity that will lead to surprising and devastating consequences.

Told through the magicians' personal journals and their descendants' first person narrative, The Prestige is a novel filled with magical, scientific and paranormal history masterfully blended into a fantasy that earns your suspension of disbelief rather than demanding it. It is a story of two men and their professional obsessions. Like a magical Kavalier & Clay, The Prestige examines the darker side of human curiosity and what it means to mislead others for profit in the entertainment world. At its most subtle, this book could be viewed as a commentary on the cut-throat and mimic filled entertainment industry of today. On the surface, it is a robust, well written novel that ties quirky history and age-old human nature into a compelling period piece. Whether you are a fan of mystery novels, the history of magic, contemporary fantasy or just well written literature that blurs the boundaries between genres, The Prestige is well worth your time and money.

The Prestige is currently being adapted into a film by Christopher Nolan. It stars Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman as the two feuding magicians and David Bowie as Nikola Tesla. Because of the setup and framework of the novel, I am leery of a film adaptation, but eager to see what the able director of Memento and Insomnia (and obviously drunken director of Batman Begins) is able to do with this great novel.

Rating: 4.25 / 5

Buy a copy of The Prestige from Amazon.com: Consume.

From the Picking Up Girls On Myspace? I'd Rather Read A Book! department

I have set up an account on the WSJ profiled Librarything.com for Consumatron. It is not something I plan on spending a lot of time on, but a simple place to list all of the books I have reviewed on Mediatron in hopes that people will somehow wind their way to my reviews through this new-fangled social networking thing.

I'm on the fence on whether or not I will be setting up a personal account on Librarything.com. Though it is a handy alternative to attending book club meetings, I do so enjoy the quickly drained bottles of red wine and long chats about which of Jane Austen's characters that I would court.

My Librarything.com profile: Consumatron Reads!

BOOK: The Awake Field by Ron Rege

Title: The Awake Field
Author: Ron Regé Jr.
Publisher: Drawn & Quarterly
ISBN: 1896597971
List Price: $7.95

Review: Though this thirteenth installment of Ron Regé's ongoing Yeast Hoist series is assuredly a piece of a larger puzzle, one doesn't need to start from the beginning to appreciate the finely crafted stories and vignettes within.

The Awake Field is a collection of eight minimalist comics, of varying length, strung together by a feeling more than a theme. Because Yeast Hoist serves as one artist's public sketchbook, a feeling is all it needs. The feeling (in case you were wondering) is the simple joy that can be achieved by noticing the small corners of life and by slowing down. Appropriately, The Awake Field was written during Regé's recent two year sabbatical in Rhode Island where I imagine life was a refreshing slow down from his home of L.A.

The title comic in The Awake Field is no more than a series of full page panels depicting a small townscape where sprites float overhead, floating from house to meadow to house, making sure everything is peaceful and serene. No words are used, only sparse line drawings and a dream-like jump-cut pacing.

The remaining seven pieces deal meditatively with the relationships between the author's comic subconscious and his loves, his friends, the state of the world, and ultimately, his family. Some of the funniest moments are also some of the most serious, coming across as a polite request of the reader to realize that the personal operates in conjunction with the rest of the world. It is as if Regé is saying to us, "I know it seems ridiculous, but all we have to do is care a little bit more. It's true!"

Regé's line work is equally meditative, simple and innocent (yet not naive). His sketched and loose characters allow for the maximum array of emotions using the minimum array of detail or features. Like a poem that hints at a message but leaves it up to the reader to decide, The Awake Field presents itself in much the same way. Topped with a simple one color scheme that will make a reader either shut off or pay close attention at what must be behind the simplicity, I found myself appreciating Regé's work more with each subsequent reading.

The Awake Field serves as a biography of Regé's subconscious. At 48 pages long, it is just the right size to give us a glimpse into another life and inspire us to propel our own.

Rating: 3.25 / 5

Buy a copy of the Awake Field from Amazon.com: Consume.