Broke-ology, St. Patrick's Day, and a Sore Philtrum

 TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE WORN YOUR philtrums red from blowing your nose, whose rib cages have been heaving at all hours from coughing -- hang in there. Beware, however. Just when you think think your cold has run its course, it may come quickly return with even more force. Such was the case with mine and Bunny's colds, anyway. So though my weekend may have started on Wednesday, my activities came to a pretty quick halt when a coughing fit woke me up on Friday.

So Wednesday. In the evening, Bunny and I went to see Broke-ology at the Pillsbury House Theater. The show stars James Craven, fresh off the set of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom which played at the Guthrie, Sonja Parks, Mikell Sapp, and Darius Dotch. Craven had to slow down quite a bit from his previous character in Ma Rainey whose speech was a speedy rat-tat-tat, to his current character who is suffering the effects of MS. The show deals with how a growing family's plans can change. In the case of this family, their lives change as a result of a death in the family, aging, limited finances, and just plain growing up.

The dynamics between the cast (including a giant lawn gnome) could be reminiscent of any family you may know, or knew in the past when you were growing up. The set looks great -- like the home of any working-class couple who are just starting to build a family of their own without living beyond their means. There are many great smaller touches to the set, too; note the grocery bags stashed behind the fridge. The brotherly jibes between Sapp and Dotch are especially exciting and in many cases highly entertaining.

From talking with the cast after the show, Mikell Sapp is here from Alabama and Darius Dotch has been doing a great job of showing him around the Twin Cities.

A wonderful detail that must be shared is the fact that all tickets to every performance of Broke-ology are pay-what-you-can. Seriously. You can name your price.

Thursday, St. Patrick's Day, started with seeing a preview of the newest exhibition on view at The Walker entitled Midnight Party and, wow, what a party this is. This show is nothing short of stunning. Here is a little bit of what I wrote about the exhibition for The Dressing Room, an arts-based blog on the City Pages website:

Midnight Party has all the makings of a great party -- or the telltale signs that one has already happened. The furniture is messed up; Nari Ward’s mangled chair-like sculpture rests, twisted and angular on a throw rug. There’s a giant hole in the drywall serving as an entrance to Kiki Smith’s kitchen area. And there is a starlet hanging upside down while black and white movies flicker images of exposed breasts onto the walls.

Galleries 4, 5, and 6 in the Walker have been transformed into a sort of ersatz house for Midnight Party, guest curated by Joan Rothfuss. While roaming about the large gallery spaces as well as smaller, cozier theme rooms built especially for this exhibit, one gets the eerie feeling that the party’s hosts aren’t home, but it is most certainly open for a party. There’s even a wunderkammer featuring treasures including a meat dress (literally made out of 60 pounds of meat and 60 pounds of salt), Kranky Klaus masks by Cameron Jamie, and a time capsule, among other fascinating items too numerous to mention.

And then it was time to dash over to St. Paul to catch their St. Pat's parade. I thought for a moment how strange it was to have such a large parade so early on a weekday, but then I considered the madhouse it would be later in the day -- after everyone had a few drinks in them -- and realized the early hour must be quite on purpose. Here is my photo slideshow from the event:



And then we returned to home just long enough to warm up before Bunny had to head to the Guthrie to meet with Peter Michael Goetz. I tagged along for the interview, which soon relaxed into reminiscing about the Twin Cities theater scene (be on the lookout for some great theater anecdotes in Max About Town). Goetz met us at Sea Change, and soon after he ordered a salad, he wished he could order a martini. He decided to go with something non-alcoholic, though, because he was in the middle of tech rehearsal. We ended up sharing a delicious corned-beef sandwich. As for drinks, Bunny and I sipped a special green cocktail the bartender had just shook up.

Peter Michael Goetz has been in many great movies and theatrical productions, but I had to ask him about C.H.U.D., a horror film made in 1984. "Oh my god! Chud!" he said. He hadn't thought about the film in years, but he remembered what the anagram stands for. "Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers," he said. We talked about how great the cast was for that film -- John Heard, Daniel Stern, Jay Thomas, and John Goodman just to name a few. I was sure to mention that the DVD commentary for the film has reached a legendary status and that, if he ever has the time, he may want to watch it. It's absolutely hilarious.

The three of us spoke for a bit before Goetz had to return to rehearsal. Bunny and I returned home, opting to skip the Minneapolis St. Pat's parade and a night of drinking because our coughs were returning. Turns out we might as well have stayed out all night whooping things up, shaking our green beads along with everyone else. Because the next day we were back to nursing our colds, which had rallied with much more fury than any old hangover ever could have.

Feel better soon, kiddos.