Three Questions with Rachel Bloom
Actor and comedian Rachel Bloom sits down with associate editor of Chicago Life, Frank Schweihs, to discuss her upcoming Steppenwolf show, Death, Let Me Do My Show.
CL: This show was originally conceived in 2019, and then of course the pandemic came and changed everything. The show then evolved, influenced by the ensuing tragedies of the period, including the death of your collaborator and close friend, musician Adam Schlesinger. Can you talk about what the show had been in its initial inception and what it became after Adam’s passing and other difficult events?
RB: The show was originally just going to be a straightforward stand-up show into songs, akin to what I have done a lot when I’m touring, and the songs were very raunchy and fun and dirty. Then when the world exploded, I realized I couldn’t do that show anymore, but my house had all of these reminders about that show—there was an outline up on the white board of my office, etc. That’s when I thought, all of this is stupid, it’s all a moot point. But then I thought—could the debate over it being a moot point be a new show?
CL: When talking with New York Magazine’s Emily Gould about the show, two words came up toward the end of the interview that stood out: stasis and crisis. So much of life seems to exist within either extreme, and when something like, say, a global pandemic happens, the transition from one to the other can be jarring. When the luxury of static complacency turns quickly into, as Emily put it, “perpetual crisis,” one way to deal with it after the dust settles a bit is through comedy. There’s a catharsis in confronting the tragedy with humor; it’s also a delicate balancing act, blending the two. What was that balance like for you when realtering the show?
RB: Well first of all, I love this question. Second of all, when I was in the moments of deepest crisis from March – July 2020, comedy is what kept me sane. I re-read old comedy books that I thought were hilarious, listened to funny podcasts, and watched funny tv shows. I just wanted to escape. In that way, it felt like for a moment while I was laughing that death didn’t exist. To me this show is very much a debate about the role of comedy and laughing and silliness when you know that life is inherently tragic and some day you are going to die. I think the ridiculousness of being in crisis and all of the things it makes you do and say and feel is inherently darkly comedic.
CL: Steppenwolf seems to be the perfect place for a show like this. Not only is it one of our long-standing, preeminent theaters, but it is also the theater that has continually taken chances, the artistic vanguard of modern storytelling here in the city. In particular, what was it about Steppenwolf that made you want to bring the show there, as opposed to other venues?
RB: To me, when I think of the gold standard of theaters in the US, Steppenwolf is at the top of that list. I am very proud of the theater piece I made, and once we did it off-Broadway, it made me crave doing the show in more theatrical spaces, so, Steppenwolf was perfect.
Three Questions with George Stephanopoulos
Author and Good Morning America co-anchor George Stephanopoulos sits down with associate editor of Chicago Life, Frank Schweihs, to discuss his new book, The Situation Room. On May 18th at the Illinois Institute of Technology Hermann Hall Conference Center, Chicago Humanities hosted an event with George exploring the American presidency, global crises, and the over half-century significance of the Situation Room.
CL: The sense I got while reading the book, and something you directly address halfway through, is that “each president’s attitude toward the Situation Room reflected his personality.” Reagan and Johnson spent an extraordinary amount of time in the room. Conversely, Nixon spent hardly any time there. Averse to the room because, as Kissinger put it,
“Nixon was convinced that President Johnson had suffered from ‘Situation Room syndrome,’ succumbing to the melodramatic idea that, in crisis, the world could be managed from this room.” Considering the myriad variables and complications each administration encounters, this might be an impossible question, of course, but do you see any direct correlation between a president‘s ultimate administrative success and their relationship to that room? Or better, did it increase the odds of overall administrative success if the president had cohesive working relationships within the room? Was that at all predictive?
GS: The best example, maybe, is George H. W. Bush. He had eight years as vice president. He was ambassador to China. He had lots of foreign policy experience, and that room was comfortable for him. He enjoyed calling up on a slow Saturday afternoon and getting cables from ambassadors. And the combination of President Bush with Brent Scowcroft, who was, as General Mark Milley, the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff told me, the gold standard for national security, made it possible to create a room where people felt comfortable and trusted each other. I think he was one of the best examples. The examples of Nixon and Trump are instructive because they so deeply distrusted the room. Nixon had tremendous success with China that he engineered secretly with Henry Kissinger. But as I write in the book, he wasn’t there for one of the most critical 72 hours in the history of the Situation Room, when Kissinger brought America’s nuclear forces to DEFCON 3 because of the Yom Kippur War. With Trump, it was almost as if he was an enemy of the room, and that all played out during his first impeachment over Ukraine. It’s important to remember what former NATO ambassador Doug Lute said. He said when you think about the Situation Room, you have to really think about three things: the people, the place, and the process. The people, meaning both the permanent staff and the appointed staff. The process the president and his team insist on running. Is it collaborative? Is it open and honest? Are people free to speak their mind and dissent when they believe it’s necessary? And the place, which is both the conference room and the watch center. That is really the nerve center of the White House 24 hours a day.
CL: Reading The Situation Room I was fascinated by what kind of personalities tend to function best at the highest level in that environment. There doesn’t seem to be an across-the-board prototype, but Bonnie Glick is quoted in the book as saying that “the Situation Room is this space with a lot of major egos coming in, and people may or may not pay attention to the fact that human beings run it.” Is there a certain type of political or military personality that thrives best within the intensity of that room?
GS: There are a few different models. You have the model of Brent Scowcroft, super collaborative, an honest broker. You have Henry Kissinger, who was successful in how he managed the Yom Kippur War, but in some ways was the opposite; he wasn’t the most inclusive person. But I would highlight another kind of individual who thrives, and that is someone like national security expert Richard Clarke, who had a tremendous career in the White House and served under every president from Reagan through George W. Bush. He was a kind of master at managing the deputy’s process, which grinds through the issues inside the Situation Room, day after day. It takes a hard charger with relationships across the government, a deep expertise, and the confidence to be able to bring people together and occasionally knock heads.
CL: The history of the Situation Room is the history of modern American and global crises. But, as Condi Rice is quoted as saying, “Going into that room, when you’re on the right side of history, is pretty thrilling.” Surely there are a handful, but is there one particular crisis where the structure and continuity of that room proved uniquely essential to dealing with an event?
GS: I think one of the best examples of how the function of the Situation Room served a foreign policy success is the whole experience with President Obama and the Osama Bin Laden raid. They had worked through the issue for months in secrecy. Not everything stays secret in the Situation Room, but they were able to keep secrets even as they were bringing in full-scale models of the Abbottabad compound where Osama Bin Laden had been hiding out. And they were able to because President Obama had been bringing the team together on what they called Terror Tuesday every week, and he had his top officials together to deal with these counterterrorism strikes around the world, and they had become comfortable with each other and trusted each other. So, that muscle memory was built up over the course of planning for the Bin Laden takedown. And then even the great work of [Deputy Director, Systems and Technology] Gary Bresnahan hooking up the technology so that they could all watch in real time. Kind of remarkable. It was the ultimate deliberative process on what everybody, starting with Obama, said was one of the closest calls possible. It was basically a fifty-fifty decision on whether it was really Bin Laden, and they ended up making the right decision. But it was clearly a situation where the people and the process and the place came together in a profound way. You just saw the whole place clicking on all cylinders in a way that really worked.
Three Questions with Geri Halliwell-Horner
Singer and author Geri Halliwell-Horner sits down with associate editor of Chicago Life, Frank Schweihs, to discuss her new sweeping adventure novel, Rosie Frost & the Falcon Queen.
CL: When writing a book like this, and developing a character like Rosie, how much do you draw from your own life? Although not completely autobiographical, of course, one can’t help but see some similarities: red hair, dealing with the death of a parent, ostensibly miscast at a prestigious school at a young age. The internal fortitude of Rosie, and the courage, some of that surely has to be borne out of personal experience? GH: In life, every experience as a writer is all copy. All struggles are ingredients for inspiration: love, pain, disappointments, heartache, fear, all of it. Like a chef or a painter to colour, to mix the story, define characters with darker shades and sharper edges. Chapter one in Rosie Frost & The Falcon Queen is definitely leaning on my own personal experiences of death, grief, and feeling like the odd one out.
CL: The book is very relatable because its themes are universal—themes of adolescent isolation, loneliness, and specifically “mean girl” bullying, but in a contemporary context, which, on occasion, prove both ridiculous and heart-rending. Characters like Ottilie and Jamila, with their phones, preoccupied with selfies and social media, being cruel yet detached when bullying Rosie, seem to reflect a kind of specific modern torment. Is it tougher for everyone today, in a world driven by modern technology? Does it exacerbate the isolation and anxiety, or is it all relative at the end of the day?
GH: Is it tougher? Yes and no… it’s a blessing and a curse depending on your attitude and frame of mind. Our only battle shield is confidence and self-worth. Some may feel particularly vulnerable at different times in one’s life. Some-times my story telling is raw and honest, but of course, there are moments when the volume is turned up on certain situ-ations, honesty on steroids that is adrenalized into brighter colours for page-turning suspense and action.
CL: Every woman who heard that Geri Halliwell-Horner was going to be in the upcoming issue of Chicago Life had a similar reaction, which is to say the same reaction they might have had in 1997 after hearing that the Spice Girls were coming out with a new single. The endurance of the Spice Girls, and their cement-ed legacy among women of a certain generation, in part can be ascribed to the messages inherent in their songs, I think, messages like unity, confidence and female empowerment. Many of those same messages can be found in this book. In addition to drawing from your own personal experience as a young woman, how much did your experience in the Spice Girls inform your writing? GH: The Spice Girls was an epic time of exploration and opportunity, a platform to create and unite. I feel the same about Rosie Frost; she has the same empowering message with evolving tones that are wider, deeper—looking at grief, bullying, finding your inner power. The Falcon Queen Rules are there for you to use, whatever your situation, age, or background.CL: Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask about any upcoming books, and if we can expect any more Rosie Frost adventures? GH: Yes, there are more Rosie Frost books to come. I’m currently finishing my first draft of the second book, and so yes, definitely more to come
Three Questions with Bob and Erin Odenkirk
Actor and comedian Bob Odenkirk and artist and illustrator Erin Odenkirk sit down with Frank Schweihs, associate editor of Chicago Life, to discuss their new book of original poems, Zilot & Other Important Rhymes. On October 14th at Northwestern University-Cahn Auditorium, Chicago Humanities will also be hosting a hilarious night of laughter and nostalgia as the father-daughter duo join Peter Sagal to talk about the new book, Erin’s burgeoning career, and Bob’s acclaimed one.
CL: What struck me most about the book, and what is refreshing about it, was how sneakily sophisticated it is. It’s quirky and kind of urbane, like something I’d imagine one of the kids in the Glass family reading. It also reminded me a little of Where the Sidewalk Ends (in spirit if not aesthetic, since Shel Silverstein’s illustrations are often-times these strange grotesqueries, and yours, Erin, are considerably gentler). Was this something conscious during its conception, to make a kind of sophisticated children’s book for young readers, or did the poems and illustrations just happen naturally?
Bob: Absolutely a mix of both! Right from when they were born,
I used big words and complex verbal constructions around Nate and Erin for the fun of it, always providing a context. “Be careful or you’ll compromise the integrity of the Zilot,” I would say, followed by…
“You’ll knock the blanket fort over!” (NOTE: A “Zilot” is a blanket fort!) So, this kind of wordplay is very much a part of our book!
Erin: I think we made a unique creative environment by starting this project as a dad and two small children. In this setting, Bob brought an adult’s sophistication–maybe a lesson or a complex idea or a long word–and the kids hit it home with a kid-friendly translation of the same idea. And same with the silliness. I think Bob is very closely connected still to his childish silliness. And, conversely, children can bring a small wisdom to the table, a sophistication in simplicity that adults can lose.
CL: What came first, the illustrations or the poems? And what was the genesis of this collaboration?
Erin: The poems came first. We began writing this book as a
before-bedtime activity when we were much younger, and less haggard. It was my dad’s way of showing us, his kids, that anyone can write! And that you can write about anything, too. So, we would collaborate on poems about our days, the mundane, the 99 cent store, or dessert, or a dog walk. And it was only during the pandemic, ten-plus years later, when I was home from college, that we started to rewrite them and add illustrations.
Bob: When we wrote the originals, the kids were little and I would write down any line they pitched out, just as they said it…so they could have a sense of genuinely writing it themselves. In rewriting during the pandemic lockdown (and beyond), we sharpened things up considerably…though there are still about five poems that are very close to their original construction.
CL: Bob, over the years in interviews and in your book, Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama, you’ve emphasized the importance of honest (some might say harsh) criticism, which, of course, is not always easily embraced. I’m thinking of, for instance, when Judd Apatow in your book says how he was terrified of you because you were, on occasion, “viciously opinionated.” But, the great thing about vicious criticism is that the opposite is sincere approbation that you can actually trust. Erin, have you ever been overly critical of your father’s work? And what, conversely, do you particularly admire that he has done? And Bob, with an objective, critical eye, what do you most respect and admire about Erin as an artist?
Erin: He could get better at not over-cooking the broccoli. But I so appreciate that he tries! And he shines in other places. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been over-critical, but it is difficult to believe an actor as their character if you know them so closely as a person. People would tell me he was an amazing actor, but mostly when he was on screen I would just see my dad in a funny outfit! I think that changed the deeper I got into watching (and he got into acting in) Better Call Saul. I admire a lot of what he has done, but some of my favorites are Mr. Show with Bob and David, the movie Girlfriend’s Day, and his recent appearance on season 2 of The Bear.
Bob: I am thrilled at Erin’s pursuit of a signature “line” and style to this particular, first-published work of hers! That is the mindset of a professional at work. There is a dynamic range in the drawings, and I think that is appropriate for a “collection.” But nothing is outside of the chosen style and vibe. She pursued that, through numerous iterations of the work, and I agree with your earlier assessment that it is less “grotesque” than Shel Silverstein, and more warm and gentle, totally appropriate as these poems are for a slightly younger audience.
CL: Thank you both for sharing with us today. Is there any potential for future collaborations? And what do both of you have lined up, creatively? Bob, maybe a sequel to Nobody (fingers crossed)?
Erin: Of course! I would love to and plan on continuing collaborating with my dad, in any way. I think we do a good job of listening to each other and trusting each other. And I still have a lot to learn from him. Just shoot me an email, Bob!
Bob: I would love to work with Erin again, and especially on a kid’s book. I am so proud of this book, Zilot & Other Important Rhymes. It has all my silliness and heart in it, and Erin’s illustrations absolutely raise the level of the work. Separately, I am working on a sequel to Nobody. (When the strikes end, I’ll be right back at it!)
Three Questions with Actor Ronnie Marmo and Director Joe Mantegna
Actor Ronnie Marmo and director Joe Mantegna sit down with Frank Schweihs, associate editor of Chicago Life, to discuss the upcoming production of I’m Not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce, premiering at North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie on September 9th.
CL: What is it about the urgency and significance of Lenny Bruce that brought you guys together for this production? Ronnie, what was the motivation behind wanting to write this show? And Joe, what inspired you to come on as director?
Joe: For me, it couldn’t be timelier to do the show because what Lenny was trying to do and the points he was making are almost more apropos today than they were back then. I mean, here we are more than half a century later and we’re going through a very strange time with the struggles of the First Amendment. In terms of this particular piece, Ronnie and I already had a backstory. We’d worked together on various things. Once I saw what he had done and what he had created, for me it was a no brainer to get involved. To want to participate. To help shape it, direct it, bring it to whatever fruition it has come to, which has been six years now.
Ronnie: Last week was six years that we opened.
Joe: Six years and counting! Seems to me we’re doing something right.
Ronnie: I wrote this show because I had fallen in love with Lenny Bruce and what he stood for while I was doing another play about him. The other play was great, and it was a great introduction, but I wanted to tell the whole story. I felt like I was leaving some things out. So, I put the pen to paper to see if I could do something more, and it was just kind of divinely inspired. I moved to the urge that motivated me with the writing. It turns out, we had something nice. In terms of involving Joe, I knew I needed to be directed by somebody I admired and respected. Someone who had a gentle hand, yet I trusted what he thought. I knew that if I had one of my putsy friends do it, I definitely wouldn’t have had the same level of commitment. I didn’t want to waste Joe’s time.
CL: Bruce, like many important comics of that transitional period (Carlin, Pryor, etc.), began as a more inhibited, conventional performer before breaking out and finding his distinct voice. After learning more about Bruce’s history as a performer, what do you think fueled his metamorphosis? Was it just the necessity of artistic transformation? Something deeper? A compulsion?
Joe: That’s a tough question to answer, but I think that’s the case with almost anything, if you think about it. I think if you have a passion about something and something lights your fire, and if it’s genuine, that fire just continues to burn even hotter and stronger. You know what I mean? In Lenny’s case, it was all consuming and ultimately consumed him. But here’s this guy who paved the way for some of those back references you mentioned, Carlin, Pryor, those guys who’ve had a similar path. I remember as a young man seeing them both on Ed Sullivan’s show. I mean, I’m old enough to remember those things. I actually saw it live back then. The stuff those guys were doing at first would be considered tame even back then. But there was an evolution that happened as they kind of found themselves and found their voices. There was a fire burning in them and Lenny, he really did have that. He couldn’t help but speak his truth.
Ronnie: Carlin and Pryor, they all started as joke comics and then something happened along the way, as you said perfectly, Joe. I don’t know if I could really answer this because we’d have to ask Lenny. But I know that the one thing I’m so proud of with Lenny was that he found his voice authentically, as opposed to saying, “Ok, what’s going to be my schtick? What’s going to be my brand?” Lenny was just telling his truth, and I think it evolved into something more. He always felt that at some point they were going to apologize and say, “Lenny, you’re so right,” because he was just being authentic about it.
Joe: That’s why the title is so perfect in a way. “I’m Not a Comedian…I’m Lenny Bruce”—that kind of says it all.
Ronnie: Exactly. Joe, I don’t know if I told you this. We were in Seattle a couple of months ago, and I went into a really cool record shop. I’m looking through the comedy section, looking for Lenny, and I said to the kid, “You have no Lenny Bruce?” He goes, “Oh, no, Lenny’s in the poetry section.” And I go, “I got to ask you who made that decision?” He was like a 25-year-old kid. And he goes, “I mean, wasn’t he like a spoken word guy?” I guess in a way he was.
Joe: Wow, that’s cool!
CL: Questions around free speech and cancel culture must come up all the time when talking about Lenny Bruce. His relevancy seems to be growing. In a way, he’s become sort of a comic deity to free-speech absolutists. The comedian Louis C.K. (not at all unfamiliar with controversy) said recently on a podcast that “Comedy can’t just be more polite speech.” And that there can’t be any gravity to the moral arrow being aimed at a comic on stage. Should the stage be a place of rhetorical experimentation for a comedian, artistically sacrosanct? Or are there limits?
Joe: When you look back at our Constitution and free speech, I think that you have to go back to the basics. I think that’s what they intended. If you start putting restrictions and you start putting caveats on things, then it’s not really free speech, is it? Now, you can’t have people running around saying there’s a fire in the auditorium or making stuff up that’s ultimately going to cause somebody harm or be dangerous. But, we have the line in the play, “They’re just words.” Ronnie has a brilliant moment in the play every night where he says that line in a way that kind of sums up the answer to that question. They are only words. I think we’ve become oversensitized to vocabulary, to words. Comics need to have the stage, that forum, to speak freely. We can’t put shackles on them. You can’t put shackles on a person’s thoughts.
Ronnie: It’s true, Joe. I mean, who decides what words can’t be said and can be said? It’s like then you’re talking about taste. Lenny used to say, someone can say you have bad taste. But why do you have bad taste? Because it’s not my taste. That’s what makes it bad taste. It’s kind of ironic. Somebody has to say those words are unacceptable. It’s free speech for me, but not for thee. Comedy clubs, to me, need to stay free speech zones because a lot of times that’s where we examine things and hold a mirror up to society on certain issues and topics. We learn about each other and how we feel about things, and it’s a safe space to not take everything so seriously. Let the people decide if they’re going to buy a ticket. If you don’t like it, don’t buy the ticket. But don’t say I can’t like it just because you don’t like it.
Joe: Exactly. It’s like the speech Ronnie gives in the play. The whole thing about the stripper in the park and showing off her naughty bits. I get it. When people are paying to see something, it’s their discretion. This is what America is about.
Ronnie: Yeah, people are paying. They had the freedom of choice to go there. That’s the bottom line. But still, people are trying to amend the First Amendment, and you can’t.
Rachel Bloom on stage (Photo by Emilio Madrid)
Geri Halliwell-Horner (Photo by Dan Kennedy)
Geri Halliwell-Horner (Photo by Chris Philippo)
Bob and Erin Odenkirk
Three Questions with Andrew Rannells
Actor Andrew Rannells sits down with Frank Schweihs, associate editor of Chicago Life, to discuss his new book, Uncle of the Year: And Other Debatable Triumphs. The Tony-nominated actor will also be appearing on May 18th at the Music Box Theatre for A Night Out with Andrew Rannells, an event hosted by the Chicago Humanities Festival looking back on his career from the Broadway stage to the silver screen.
CL: What struck me most about the book, apart from the humor, is the candid way you talk about the challenges of being an actor that don’t often get discussed in detail. The harrowing slog of auditions, for instance. We’ve heard actors talk about difficult auditions before, but rarely with such candor. The essay, “Thank You, NEXT!” gets specific about the times in your professional life when you had to endure some fairly uncomfortable rejections. What inspired you to tackle that reality of the profession?
AR: It’s a very unglamorous part of the acting profession, and I wanted to share some of that reality with readers. I know that most people understand how volatile being an actor can be, but I just wanted to share my experiences, particularly those before The Book of Mormon and some after. Everyone is hustling. Every-one is looking for the next job. As an actor that never really stops.
CL: In “It’s an Honor to Be Eligible” and “Always Sit Next to Mark Ruffalo,” you also get very candid about your complicated relationship with awards and recognition. In a culture where public figures micromanage every possible perception of their persona, was there any ambivalence over writing so honestly about how you and other actors (some very well-known ones) sometimes agonize over the losses and oftentimes really yearn for the plaudits?
AR: I really hesitated before sharing this essay. It is MY story but it involves other actors, and I certainly don’t want to speak for them or assume I know what they were feeling at that moment. Ultimately, I felt like it was more humanizing about how those fancy award shows are more relatable than one might think. People are people, and at the end of the day, everyone has a base insecurity that is extremely relatable. I’ve been very lucky to be nominated for a few awards, and then didn’t win them, and wanted to share my personal experience on that ride. And I’m sure Sienna Miller is great in a different setting. 🙂
CL: In perhaps the funniest essays in the book, “Saigon on the Finger Lakes” and “What Color is My Parachute?” you wrote about the unglamorous reality of taking jobs as an actor solely as a means to pay the bills, and the hypothetical (and completely absurd) alternative jobs you could envision yourself taking if acting hadn’t worked out as well as you had hoped.
Both are too amusing to spoil—“Saigon” is a series of missives with your friend, actress Zuzanna Szadkowski, while you were out of town for an acting gig, and “Parachutes” is a sliding-doors fantasy about making scones in Maine as a profession—but both are also tinged with the melancholic reality that acting at times can be a tenuous and fickle occupation. Was there ever a time, maybe during your tour in the Finger Lakes, when you seriously considered other professions?
AR: I consider changing professions weekly. It’s not that I don’t love what I do, I really do, but I can’t help but fantasize about other possibilities. The
real problem is, I have no other marketable skills. I never developed a Plan B, so I’m kind of stuck with this. But even the tough jobs are a gift. I know how lucky I am to get to do what I do. That’s never lost on me. Are there annoying aspects to it? For sure. But I wouldn’t really want to change anything about my life. Though Maine does seem lovely…
Actor Andrew Rannells, author of Uncle of the Year, with his nephew.
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Three Questions with Anna Deavere Smith
Anna Deavere Smith, playwright, professor, and actress, sits down with Frank Schweihs, associate editor of Chicago Life, to discuss the new trio of American operas premiering in March at Lyric Opera of Chicago.
CL: You’ve been credited with expanding a form of theater that, to me, has a more journalistic approach, and, in many ways, a more empathic approach. In your performances you often embody each character yourself, and often perform verbatim what they’ve said to you about each particular theme that guides your shows. Can you talk a bit about how you arrived at that approach, and how you discovered this talent for mimicry and empathy?
ADS: I came to create the theater that I do with a question: “What is the relationship of language to identity?” It really began as an experiment to see if how people spoke told you as much about them as what they said. I don’t mean accents; I mean variations in rhythm and melody. I was also interested in studying America through this type of theater–going places where there’d been conflict, places where people did not agree, places of discord to learn more about America. Part of the learning was to embody the individuals I interviewed. When I was a girl, my grandfather said, “If you say a word often enough it becomes you.” And so I was trying to become America, word for word.
CL: The new show premiering at the Lyric Opera this month, Proximity, has themes that center around our need for connection in a world con-trolled by technology, on the brutal impact of gun violence on cities and neighborhoods in this country, and on the imperative to respect our natural resources. All seemingly disparate themes, but all themes central to our lives in 2023. Justice and loss are primary concerns in your work, as well. How have these notions influenced this new work, if they have?
ADS: I can’t speak for the other operas in the evening. To learn about the entire evening, I suggest you speak with Yuval Sharon, our director.“The Walkers” suggests an antidote to loss: care. I created the libretto for “The Walkers” by doing several interviews of participants, staff, and counselors at Chicago CRED. Chicago CRED is a program founded and directed by former U.S. Secretary of Education, Arne Duncan. CRED provides an integrated, targeted, wholistic, wholesome, powerful approach to gun violence prevention. As you know, Arne made a very bold move, which was to tackle gun violence among youths by working with the shooters themselves. It was a very powerful experience to talk with these folks. Arne has said that he is not giving youth – many of whom at young ages have already been incarcerated – “a second chance.” He says he’s giving them a first chance. They never had a chance to begin with. I am so moved and inspired by the individuals at CRED who have not given up on what could appear to be ‘lost youth.’ They ‘walk’ with them. It’s hope in action and, I think, the way forward.
CL: Without giving too much away, what is the scope of perspective in Proximity?
ADS: One reason we named the evening “Proximity” was to suggest how proximate we are to one another as humans, no matter how different our experiences are. In my case, I’ve spent the better part of the last several decades trying to come close to and even embody strangers. And so I’ve always worked towards closing gaps and becoming proximate to that which is distant from me – both geographically and in mindset. For “The Walkers,” the scope is huge because it is opera. The music is beautiful, even as the subject matter is tragic. The singers are beautiful, even as the subject is dire. The staging will be beautiful as well. And this is because beauty causes us to look closely. By using aesthetic beauty, we hope to bring the audience as proximate as possible to a dire problem in Chicago: gun violence among youth, a problem that has haunted Chicago for decades. We hope to engage the audience, some of whom may very well work with this issue professionally. We hope that through this engagement, people who are already proximate to the problem will be refreshed and come up with new approaches. And we hope that people who are not proximate will feel an urge to do something to improve the situation. The evening is meant to activate the possibility of “I – Thou” relationships. The philosopher Martin Buber suggested that we have a choice as humans: to have “I – Thou” relationships or “I – It” relationships. “I – It” relationships turn humans into things. This is a moral issue and, at the risk of sounding way too high falutin’, I suppose that Daniel, Yuval and I wish to spark the moral imagination of the audience. I know my moral imagination was sparked and renewed while I was in the process of interviewing the individuals who work at Chicago CRED, and those participants are in the midst of transforming their lives for the better.
Barbara Stauffacher Solomon, “This Woman Questions the Quotes,” ca. 2018. Mixed media on paper, 8.5 x 11 in. Courtesy of the artist
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