Tag Archives: The Vic & Paul Show
Just 11 Shopping Weeks Until “The Vic & Paul Show” at Mayne Stage
It’s a holiday homecoming party for the ages. Get your tickets now! Better yet — get your friends together and contact Nili about group sales. And don’t miss the December 30th performance, followed by Riffmaster & The Rockme Foundation. This is gonna be fun! 
Filed under Art, Comedy, Improvisation
Make Your Holiday Plans Today…
Click on the poster — and get your tickets!
“One of the theatrical events of the year is the return of Paul Barrosse and Victoria Zielinski to the Chicago stage with ‘The Vic & Paul Show’… I know it’s a lofty comparison, but you guys are the new Nichols & May, as far as I’m concerned… As sharp and topical as anything I’ve heard in some time… There must be hundreds, if not thousands, of Chicagoans with fond memories of The Practical Theatre Company… It’s a not-to-be-missed engagement. It should be packed.” Rick Kogan, WGN
Filed under Art, Comedy, Improvisation
A Retro Romance…
The 19th century was a more romantic time. Long before e-mail and text messaging, in the era of Jane Austen, relationships developed slowly, in the fullness of time…
Dear Reginald,
I was very happy to see you last spring at high tea in honor of our grandmother’s birthday. It is always wonderful to share your company, dearest cousin, and you may remember that on that occasion you were in the company of a certain gentleman, Roland Masterton, who impressed me greatly with his wit, good manners, and dignified carriage. Of course, we spoke not a word to one another, and yet I do believe we shared a glance. And if I may be so bold, I dared to believe that our glance, shared in a fraction of an instant as mother poured his tea, contained the unmistakable glimmer of mutual interest.
Dearest cousin, it would give me joy greater than you could imagine if you might arrange some undertaking in which I might have an opportunity to share a moment’s parlance with Mr. Masterton. I ask this in the greatest confidence, knowing that you would never betray my trust by sharing this disclosure without my approval. Let me know by return post if I have overstepped the bonds of friendship and family in making such a bold request. Dare I dream that Mr. Masterton and I may one day take tea together?
I remain, trusting in your discretion and friendship, your most humble, faithful and obedient cousin,
Elizabeth Cuddleton
My great and good friend Reggie,
It was with great pleasure that I recall an evening perhaps six months ago when I attended a birthday celebration for that great antique lady, your grandmother. It was a stately affair and a quite congenial assemblage of company. I would like to inquire further concerning one of your relatives who made a distinct impression upon me that evening. I believe I shared a glance with your cousin, Elizabeth. She cut a most elegant figure, although I did not presume to dance with her, or to speak with her directly, as I was not certain if my advances would be welcomed by her or by your esteemed family, whom I have taken to my bosom as my own.
Would it be possible for you to arrange some circumstance in which I might one more be given the privilege of Elizabeth’s company? I propose this only to you, Reginald, and would not presume upon our friendship but I know that you will keep this in deepest confidence. Of course, if I have trespassed upon your trust by proposing this to you, let me know and I will speak no more of it.
The matter will be entirely closed between us, as I will forever remain your most faithful and humble friend and servant,
Roland Masterton.
Dear Reginald,
You simply cannot imagine my delight in receiving an invitation from you this afternoon – a mere two months since last I wrote. A picnic on the lawn at Pemberley! I am delighted to accept dearest cousin and, although it is three months hence, I shall think of it as twelve short weeks ‘til then. I have already begun the embroidery on a thank-you pillowcase that I will present to you at Pemberley!
In the interim, please rest assured that Aunt Miranda and I will bake some delights for the occasion. Could you by some stratagem ascertain whether Mr. Masterton enjoys sugar cookies? Or might he prefer pie? And if so, what flavor pie would be preferred? I apologize for being so forward, but a proper pie of the appropriate flavor is always a picnic favorite. If sugar cookies are desired, our family recipe awaits. Aunt Miranda and will put our heads together to determine the proper recipes for the day. Please answer me by return post, as I am desirous of getting these important preparations underway within the month.
I remain, forever, your most affectionate,
Lizzie.
Reggie!
Thank you so very much for the wonderful picnic at Pemberley last week. What a marvelous day, my dearest friend! It was a particular delight to meet so many of your friends and family. Of course, I fervently hope to have made an impression upon your cousin, the incomparable Elizabeth!
Shall I describe in detail the way the sun fell upon her magnificent brown locks that day, as we feasted upon her magnificent sugar cookies. How could she have known that sugar cookies are my most favorite dessert? When Eliza’s cookies were presented, I confess I blushed to the root — and this most unseemly from a man of 24. My passion shames, me dearest Reginald.
Of course, your Aunt Miranda came swiftly between us, but before our parting, your cousin and I shared a most promising exchange. Addressing me directly, she inquired if I would like a sugar cookie. To which I replied, “Yes, I would, indeed.” Aunt Miranda then intervened and yet, in that moment, I detected a mutual bond of like-minded souls, sharing a moment of peace amidst the chaos of modern life. My only regret is that, unlike a flower, when pressing a sugar cookie into a book, the result is most unsatisfying. I was unable to consume the entire cookie for fear of losing that part of Elizabeth which is all I have.
But, enough talk of treasured baked goods. Please tell me what you can of your cousin’s feelings. Is there a possibility that she (and her zealous chaperone Aunt Miranda, of course) might accept my invitation to attend a cricket match at Ashwood in three months?
Rather hoping to impress Eliza with my skill as a batsman, I remain, evermore, your passionate and obedient servant,
Roland Masterton
Dear Reginald,
I write in a fit of nervous passion to share with you the burdens of my heart.
Last month, as you know, Aunt Miranda and I attended Mr. Masterton’s cricket match at Ashwood. She has scolded me repeatedly since then for an unfortunate event which occurred late in the match, when, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Masterton, exhausted from his manly exertions on the pitch, sat with me for but a moment, at which time I offered him my handkerchief to wipe his brow.
I did not mean to be so forward, although I must confess, I devoutly wished him to take it. Father and mother, enraged by Aunt Miranda’s account of this foolish affair, consider my impulsive behavior an affront to family honor, and I am now heartily sorry for my emotional recklessness.
While I admit that I desired Mr. Masterton to accept my kerchief as an innocent token of fond friendship, I have no desire to be assigned to that low class of woman whom we both abhor.
Please visit us at once Reginald. I am sick at heart. Please bring me the comfort that only a cousin’s reassurance can bring.
I remain your most affectionate cousin,
Elizabeth
Dearest friend Reginald,
I fear that something dark has come between us. I have not heard from you for three months since the cricket match at Ashwood. I hope you did not think it beastly of me to step off the cricket pitch and pass a moment with your cousin in such a base and sweaty state. The angel Elizabeth offered me her handkerchief, which I impulsively took as a token, feigning the part of a medieval knight tilting at tournament. I shall keep her kerchief about me always with the remnants of the sugar cookie she presented to me at our second meeting: a shrine to her perfect memory.
I can only hope that, by my well-intentioned yet perhaps too brazen public acceptance of Eliza’s token, I have not scandalized your family in some way. Please, alleviate the pain of my heart and let me know posthaste whether I am still welcome in your circle. I fear that if I cannot see Elizabeth again, I know not what I shall do.
Your nearly despairing friend and servant,
Roland Masterton
Dear Reginald,
Imagine my surprise this morning when a servant delivered the enclosed card from Mr. Masterton. A fine card it is, do you not agree? I share it only under the absolute condition that you return it to me by return post. My servant will wait for it.
Mr. Masterton has asked my permission to allow him to greet me after church next month. This comes a mere four months after his cricket match at Ashwood where I was, I am certain, too forward in offering him my handkerchief. How shall I respond to his request? I am inclined to allow such a meeting – properly chaperoned, of course. But am I progressing too rapidly? Too boldly?
Dear friend Reginald,
Failing to hear from you, I fear I have committed a most hasty and perhaps desperate act. I ordered my servant to present your angelic cousin with my card, proposing a direct meeting with her after church in two Sundays. Am I too rash? Is this proper? My fervent longing for the company of your cousin is beyond my power to deny or conceal. You must write to me with good counsel within the fortnight, friend. It is urgent.
Dear Reginald,
Has Mr. Masterton gone mad? After church this morning, he appeared before Aunt Miranda and I, requesting a private audience with me. He was disheveled in appearance and quite antic in his manner. What can he be thinking? Aunt Miranda was scandalized and escorted me to our carriage immediately. Is Mr. Masterton quite well? I really do wonder at his behavior today, although I must confess, he did look quite handsome despite his wild and agitated state. I flatter myself to think that I have moved him to such an extreme.
I beg you to send Mr. Masteron the tea cookies that I have packaged with this letter. I am told they are good medicine for colic. Please send me more news of Mr. Masterton by return post.
My dear friend Reginald,
I write to you from the bow of a great ship, as I sail to India with a heavy heart. I will remain on the sub-continent for several years, searching my lost soul for the reason why I approached your lovely cousin without an escort after church two weeks ago. I am at a loss as to why I confronted her in such a heedless and unbridled manner.
I cannot imagine that my darling, sweet Elizabeth could find it within her sweet soul to forgive me for being such an impetuous fool. I can only say that it was my passion for her that possessed me at that moment, driving away all reason and propriety. It is, indeed, a weakness with me that I sometimes act from my heart and not my head; but rest assured that my feelings and intentions with respect to your lovely and divine cousin are of the purest and most honorable stuff, as befits a lady of her station, breeding and beauty, inward and outward.
Why, oh why, did I behave in such a rash and heedless manner? That such behavior should have been on display in a place of worship, I am profoundly ashamed. In penance for my impetuosity, I have taken a position with a pious missionary, the very Reverend Thomas Jacob Dimplethorpe, who, while we labor together among the impoverished heathen in India, will attempt to purify me, and make me, once again, worthy of numbering myself among your divine cousin’s suitors.
Until my spiritual renewal is attained, I remain your most humble, and faithful servant,
Roland Masterton
Dear Reginald,
I write to inform you of some very troublesome circumstances concerning your cousin Elizabeth, who has, apparently, not eaten in the last two weeks.
Elizabeth has taken to bed with the vapors, increasingly weak and apparently unable to speak or describe what ails her, although I surmise that her fading condition is the handiwork of that imbecile Masterton fellow, whom I chased away after his abominably boorish behavior after church last month. Has the man no breeding at all? Fie on him!
Now, I have learned that this dimwit Masterton has sailed off to India with that egregious charlatan Dimplethorpe to attend to some savages. Off to India? I fear for that blasted corner of our noble Empire with Masterton and Dimplethorpe in cahoots.
You have truly bungled this situation, Reginald. And now, poor Lizzie is wasting away as I write. If we are unable to fetch this moronic Masterton fellow within the year, I truly fear for Eliza’s wellbeing. Fix this, Reginald. Do what you must, but do not compromise your dear, suffering cousin by disclosing to Masterton the source of her anxiety.
Your long suffering Aunt Miranda
Dear Miss Cuddleton,
I have spent, as you know, the past year on the Indian subcontinent, where I have done my best with the reverend Dimplethorpe to alleviate what suffering I have seen. I have taken this duty upon myself in penance for my heedless and precipitous behavior at church and at cricket so long ago.
My tenure here will be resolved in another year. I pray that you will honor me with the privilege of an audience upon my return. I do not dare to hope that I am deserving of your company, but I devoutly wish to share a word or two with you, and upon bended knee, make my most humble apologizes.
Your most humble, penitent and contrite suitor,
Roland Masterton
Dear Reginald,
I have received a most troubling letter from our mutual friend, Roland Masterton. He appears to have gone off to India out of a misplaced notion that he has in some way offended me. Where did he get this idea? Was it from you dear cousin? Or is this some mischief on the part of our Aunt Miranda?
Please reassure Mr. Masteron that, while his behavior toward me has been admittedly, and dare I say flatteringly, impulsive at times, I am inclined to forgive him for his lapses of etiquette at cricket and after church two years ago. I only wish now that Aunt Miranda had not come so hastily to the defense of my honor, and that I had taken a moment to hear what Mr. Masteron had come to church service to tell me. He has certainly redeemed himself in selfless devotion to his missionary work with the Reverent Dimplethorpe, whom Aunt Miranda also despises, despite his sterling reputation among the more devout in our congregation.
I am wasting away, Reginald. You must appeal to Mr. Masterton and speed his return to London. It is most urgent. I must see him within 5 years!
Fairest Elizabeth,
I sail home within the decade! In the meantime, I continue to keep a treasured talisman at my breast: your sacred sugar cookie.
Dearest Reginald,
I am joyous at the prospect of Mr. Masterton’s return from his long journeys.
3 years! How time flies!
Alas Reginald,
Our ship did founder as we rounded the Cape of Good Hope, and I shall not be home for many months.
Until then, I must suffer the low company of gypsies and pirates. Pray, give me news of Lizzie, or, between you and me, my friend, I shall drain the rum from every tavern on the Cape and forget myself in the bosom of a naked savage.
Please deliver my enclosed note to Elizabeth personally.
Reginald!
Your bumbling servant arrived very early this morning, confused and juggling two envelopes from Mr. Masterton — and unable to remember which of the two was for me. Alas, I opened a message clearly meant for you. I do not believe that Mr. Masterton intended me to read of his intentions to drink Cape Town dry of rum! Or to fornicate with the local savages!
What fever could have possessed him to describe his intentions in these brutish terms? I will take to bed until you can explain to me what has possessed Mr. Masterton to scribble such low thoughts either to you — or to me! I am most disappointed and grievously compromised.
Elizabeth.
Dear God, Reggie!
Your servant has tragically bungled the delivery of my missive to your cousin. She has clearly received the wrong letter. And now, I am mortified to learn that my angel Elizabeth regards me as nothing more than a worthless, philandering rum sot!
That you would entrust such a sacred task to a nincompoop is an affront I cannot bear. I have no choice but to challenge you, Reginald, to a duel.
I am sure that you will give me satisfaction on the Ashwood cricket pitch at daybreak next Tuesday.
Reginald!
What can you be thinking to fight a duel with poor Mr. Masterton? It is most ungracious to welcome home a man who has been saving heathen souls in India by dueling with him.
I have dispatched letters to Mr. Masterton via my servant that shall be waiting for him at the docks upon his return. I hope he is not too diminished by his wanton consumption of rum, which was, no doubt aggravated by your brutish handling of our delicate correspondence.
Never write to me again.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I write to you as I lie upon the field of honor. Reginald’s shot was swift. His aim was true. It struck me in the heart.
Reginald’s bullet would surely have been my doom, had I not kept at my breast these past four years your fossilized sugar cookie. I send it now to you as a token – with Reggie’s bullet still lodged within! You have saved my life, Elizabeth. Fly to me my dearest and we shall be wed!
Dear Roland,
Let us not be hasty, my love.
It was joyous to see you looking so well at Reginald’s funeral two weeks ago, though propriety would not allow us to share more than a glance on that unhappy occasion. You did, after all, kill my cousin.
I look forward to our reunion after a suitable mourning period of 5 years. ‘Tis but a moment ‘til then.
And now, that same relationship as it might play out today…
LIZZIE: Hey, Reg. Great party. Hot guy.
ROLAND: Yo, Reggie! Who’s the hottie? Great boobs.
LIZZIE: Tweeted me. I’m sexting.
ROLAND: Her pics are hot. Asked her to chill. Possible BJ.
LIZZIE: Googled him. Loser.
ROLAND: She flaked.
LIZZIE: Sucks!
ROLAND: What a waste…
LIZZIE & ROLAND: Of an entire hour!
The Osgood File…
Steve Rashid’s friend, Chicago Tribune photographer Chuck Osgood, caught The Vic & Paul Show at The Prop Theatre in Chicago last week — and snapped these cool photos.
Here’s our musical director and keyboard whiz, Steve Rashid, at the piano playing the opening to the show.
“Oh, what a beautiful evening, Turn off your cell phones and all After two decades in limbo, Please welcome Victoria and Paul”
Paul’s traveling businessman, Ed, sweeps Vic’s barfly, Ellen, off her feet.
Victoria as the classic Greek heroine, Medea: mother, author, murderess.
Victoria as a Southern California girl sings Please Come to Starbucks.
“Another Starbucks that’s attached To a Barnes & Noble Next to an Olive Garden With all you can eat breadsticks…”
Saloonkeeper Vic offers cowboy Paul a Whiskey Tasting.
Paul and Vic as one of the dullest couples alive driving home from a company party in a sketch called “Limbo”.
Vic: That was the dullest company party I’ve ever attended.
Paul: I’m in Human Resources, honey. We’re not Cirque du Soleil.
Paul and Vic as one of the dullest couples no longer alive, lost in the fog of limbo.
Paul as Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia and Vic as Justice Sonia Sotomayor.
Vic: Please call me Sonia.
Paul: I prefer that we remain more formal.
Vic: Oh, Antonin. You are too rigid….in your views. But you will find that Sonia – you cannot refuse!
Scalia and Sotomayor dance a passionate love-hate, left-right tango.
Filed under Art, Comedy, Improvisation, Music
One More Day of “The Vic & Paul Show”
Our Saturday night show was sold out! The Prop Theatre was packed.
Thanks to all of you who came out to help us celebrate our Chicago comedy homecoming.
Tony Adler wrote a nice feature on us in The Reader. Click here to read it.
There are only two more chances to see The Vic & Paul Show: we have two shows on Sunday (2:00 & 7:00 pm). For tickets, please click on the Brown Paper Tickets icon below:
Did you click it? Did you get your tickets? Thanks so much. See you at The Prop Theatre!
Final Two Days of “Vic & Paul” (and Steve!)
Our first two performance have been a lot of fun — with so many wonderful folks coming out to The Prop Thtr to see the show and help us celebrate our Chicago comedy homecoming.
And Tony Adler wrote a nice feature on us in The Reader. Click here to read it.
Now, there are only three more chances to see The Vic & Paul Show: tonight (Saturday) at 8:00 pm, and two shows on Sunday (2:00 & 7:00 pm). There’s just a few more tickets remaining for tonight — so Sunday is your best shot. For tickets, please click on the Brown Paper Tickets icon below:
Did you click it? Did you get your tickets? Thanks so much. See you at The Prop Theatre!
Last Call for “Vic & Paul”…
If, for some strange and inexplicable reason, you live in the greater Chicagoland area, and you haven’t yet made reservations to see The Vic & Paul Show, just click on the Brown Paper Tickets icon below:
Did you click it? Did you get your tickets? Thank you. We’ll see you at The Prop Theatre this week!
Countdown to Chicago…
As of today, there are less than two weeks before The Vic & Paul Show opens in Chicago for a one-week engagement, June 9-12, at the Prop Theatre.
This past Sunday morning, May 29th, Vic and Steve Rashid and I had a great time on Rick Kogan’s WGN Radio show, The Sunday Papers. Journalist, author, and radio raconteur, Rick Kogan is a Chicago institution. He covered most of our big moments with The Practical Theatre for The Chicago Sun-Times and The Chicago Tribune back in the 80’s – and he was kind enough to invite us on The Sunday Papers to talk about The Vic & Paul Show. You can check out the podcast by clicking on this link: Vic & Paul on WGN
For tickets to The Vic & Paul Show go to: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/169351
The Chicago Theatre Symposium & Other Cultural Treasures
My wife Victoria and I have just returned from a wonderful trip to Chicago and Evanston. It was a perfect weekend: a blissful mix of business, pleasure, family and friendship — right up until (almost) the very end.
On Friday morning, May 20th, Victoria and I boarded our Spirit Airlines flight bound for Chicago. The next day, we were scheduled to make a presentation on the history of The Practical Theatre Company at the first Chicago Theatre Symposium at Columbia College.
We’d never flown Spirit Airlines before, but Vic had given me the job of booking our travel – and swayed by Bill Shatner’s performance as “The Negotiator” in all those Priceline commercials, I used that service for the first time. Spirit looked like the cheapest way to go. But cheapest, I would later learn (once again) is not always best.
We had a 90 minute layover in Las Vegas, and spent our idle time doing the kind of thing the devil encourages in idle minds: we gambled. With poker machines right there in the airport – how can you resist? It was an omen of a great weekend-to-be when I put $5 in a machine – and moments later, walked away with $82.50! We were leaving Las Vegas ahead of the game. It doesn’t usually go that way.
When we arrived in Chicago at about 2:30 in the afternoon, the sun was shining and the temperature was in the low 60’s: the kind of spring weather that requires sweaters and jackets in Los Angeles. But as we drove east on Dempster Street toward Evanston, teenagers in t-shirts drove by in top-down convertibles like it was a hot summer day in Malibu.
We picked up our daughter, Emilia (a sophomore at Northwestern) who said this was one of the few sunny days all spring – and that kids were losing their minds, running around in shorts, halter tops and sandals as though basking in a heat wave. That we’d come to town on one of the few sunny days was another good omen. Alas, the forecast was for rain the next two days. But, for the moment, the sun was shining and Evanston was picture postcard pretty. You’d never know it had all been frozen tundra not long ago.
Steve and Bea Rashid, our good friends and hosts, were preparing a barbecued pork loin feast as we pulled up to their warm, wonderful home. Steve is our longtime musical director, and the music man for The Vic & Paul Show. Steve’s wife Bea, a dancer and choreographer, is the Director of Dance Center Evanston – one of the town’s cultural treasures. We couldn’t imagine a better way to start our weekend than to enjoy a backyard BBQ with the gracious and talented Rashids, including their son, Daniel, a senior at Evanston Township High who’ll attend The University of Southern California in the fall.
The next morning, Saturday, we drove downtown to get to Columbia College by 9:00 for the start of the final day’s sessions of The Chicago Theatre Symposium. As Vic and I walked up to 1104 South Wabash, home of the Columbia College Chicago Film Row Center where the symposium was being held, the first person we saw was the most auspicious sign yet that our weekend was blessed.
Sheldon (Photo by Anita Evans)
Crossing the street and headed in our direction was none other than Sheldon Patinkin – our beloved, legendary comedy guru! Those who have read my history of The Practical Theatre on this blog know the impact that Sheldon has had on our lives. If there was one person we wanted most to see that day, it was Sheldon. And here he was! We greeted him with genuine joy and walked into the symposium at his side.
The sessions that day were being held on the 8th floor, and Vic and I sat down in the auditorium to await the day’s first presentation, when Mary Carol Riehs walked over to say hello. Mary Carol was a contemporary at Northwestern – and it was she who told me about the symposium and suggested that The PTC should be represented. Mary Carol was, quite simply, the reason we were there. She sat with us as we took in the 9:45 presentation, entitled “Beyond the Method: Chicago Teachers and Their Impact on Chicago Theatre – From the South Side to the North Shore.”
The first speaker was Kathleen Perkins, an Associate Professor at Columbia College, who spoke about “Inspirational and Influential Chicago Teachers and Leaders,” including Winifred Ward, the late Bella Itkin – and our own Sheldon Patinkin, who has made an indelible mark on comedy and theatre, from his work with the original Compass Players, Second City, SCTV and the PTC – to Columbia College, The National Jewish Theatre, Steppenwolf and on and on and on.
Then, the session really began to feel like Old Home Week.
Kathleen Sills (Photo by Anita Evans)
Kathleen Sills spoke next. Another NU contemporary, Kathleen founded Lifeline Theatre in 1982, along with four other NU pals of ours, Meryl Friedman, Suzanne Plunkett, Sandy Snyder and Steve Totland. Kathleen gave a presentation on one of Northwestern’s most famous and influential theatre professors, the venerable Alvina Krause.
Kathleen’s presentation, “Alvina Krause, Humanities, and the Anti-Conservatory”, added rich detail to a theatrical legend that Victoria and I had been aware of since our days at Northwestern. Krause had retired years before I arrived at NU in the fall of ‘76 – but long after she left the theatre department, her presence was still powerfully felt.
Krause established herself in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania in 1971 and many NU students made pilgrimages there for master classes with their guru. In fact, one of Victoria’s closest NU friends, Elizabeth (Betsy) Dowd, was among those students who, in 1978, founded the Bloomsburg Theatre Ensemble, with Krause (then 85-years old) as artistic director. Krause passed away in 1981, but Betsy and her husband Rand Whipple (another NU pairing) are still making the Bloomsburg Theatre Ensemble a vital part of their community.
Victoria is ready for the symposium.
The next presentation, “Robert Breen and the Rise of Narrative Theatre in Chicago”, also hit close to home. Northwestern professor Paul Edwards gave a spirited account of Breen’s seminal work with Chamber Theatre – a theatrical form in which short stories, novels, and other prose works were brought to life onstage, incorporating the narrator as a central character. This was a technique I’d learned from one of Breen’s students, Frank Galati, whose brilliant class “Interpretation of Prose Fiction” was a must for aspiring actors and directors during by days at NU.
Victoria was an Interpretation Department major, and among her most inspirational teachers was Breen’s colleague Wallace Bacon, whose essential “Interpretation of Shakespeare” class was affectionately known as “Shake and Bake”.
In our era at Northwestern, the creative excitement, energy and ideas emanated from the Interpretation Department, with teachers like Galati — and his estimable predecessors Breen and Bacon – inspiring a generation of artists to think way, way outside the conventional theatre box.
This was the creative soup we were swimming in at Northwestern in the late 1970’s – and combined with our exposure to Second City style improvisational comedy through the Mee-Ow Show – provided the inspiration for four NU students to establish what became the Practical Theatre Company: a story Victoria and I were due to tell next in Room 801C as part of a session entitled, “Comedy and Improv, Part 2.”
The session began with a presentation on “Del Close, iO, and the Development of Long Form Improv” by Kim Johnson, author of The Funniest One in the Room: The Lives and Legends of Del Close, and Del’s longtime business and creative partner, Charna Halpern, who is still the producer of iO (Formerly Improv Olympic) which she and Del founded in 1981.
The late, great Del Close is a genuine American improv comedy legend: a veteran of the Compass Players in St. Louis (with Mike Nichols and Elaine May), Second City in Chicago, The Committee in San Francisco, Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters, Saturday Night Live – and finally Improv Olympic.
Brad Hall and I met Del when we shared a dressing room with him during the 1984 Goodman Theatre production of “A Christmas Carol” – and Rush Pearson and I planned a show with Del (to be called The Secret Show) in which Rush and I would act as assistants/acolytes to Del’s mad comedy scientist. The Secret Show never went beyond one memorable appearance in Irv Rein’s class at Northwestern in 1985 – where Del explained the basic roles of comedy as he saw them, as his two clownish henchmen acted them out. That same year, Del became an honorary member of The Practical Theatre Company in a ritual during which a watermelon was disemboweled – and Del’s red-painted footprints were enshrined on the sidewalk in front of The John Lennon Auditorium.
Jeffrey Sweet (Photo by Anita Evans)
After Kim and Charna finished their talk about Del, it was our turn to make good on the program’s promise that, “Members of one of Chicago’s most popular comedy theatres recall their experiences as part of the storefront theatre explosion of the 1980s.” Victoria and I presented the brief, blessed history of The Practical Theatre to the assembled students, writers and Chicago theatre luminaries (including our guru Sheldon, playwrights Jeffrey Sweet and James Sherman, Chicago Reader editor Tony Adler, and Scott Vehill, artistic director of The Prop Theatre.)
Scott Vehill & Sheldon Patinkin at The Chicago Theatre Symposium (Photo by Anita Evans)
Victoria ribbed me as “the Herodotus of The Practical Theatre” for preparing an 18-page script for our presentation – but clearly, a more informal talk was in order. Luckily. I know my PTC history fairly well (having lived it) and Victoria chimed in with well-timed details, statistics, and comic asides – often at my expense. (Lovingly, of course.) Sheldon added his own color commentary – which was personally satisfying, as Sheldon’s impact on those of us who were privileged to work with him at the PTC was (and is) immeasurable. For Vic and I to be making this presentation at Sheldon’s college, and to have him there while me made it, cemented the fact that we were in the right place at the right time.
Afterward, we made sure to plug The Vic & Paul Show – which will be playing from June 9-12 at the Prop Theatre in Chicago. And I’ll plug the show here, as well.
For tickets go to: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/169351
Following our symposium appearance, Vic and I had an appointment to meet The Reader’s Tony Adler at the nearby 11 City Diner. His plan was to interview us for an article to appear in The Reader on Thursday, June 9th – the day The Vic & Paul Show opens in Chicago. The 11 City Diner is trendy, quite busy and pretty loud. Tony joined us and we got seated at a booth, our waitress arrived, and we ordered drinks. But we didn’t order food. Don’t worry, we told our waitress, we’d take care of her.
Tony turned on his tape recorder – and he’d barely begun his interview when a restaurant manager sauntered up to our table, reminded us how busy the diner was at lunchtime, and suggested we might “be more comfortable” upstairs (where it was even louder.) We protested mildly that we intended to take care of our waitress, but the manager was not to be deterred. With the smooth yet forceful false friendliness of a veteran Division Street bouncer, he had another suggestion: we might be even “more comfortable” in the quieter confines of the Columbia College student union just a few doors down the block!
In fact, he escorted us the few hundred feet down Wabash and practically opened the door to the student union for us. The whole episode was beyond odd, and Tony, Vic and I recognized that we were living a comedy sketch. But, like any good comedy sketch – there was another twist.
The “quiet” student union the manager promised was not so quiet.
It looked like a band was setting up to rehearse – and as soon we sat down and Tony turned his tape recorder back on — a percussionist began banging away on various exotic gourds and wood blocks.
Tony & Vic
By the end of our interview the band was in full swing – with a horn section blaring away – and the three of us were huddled close around Tony’s tape recorder, trying to have a conversation about the return of the PTC to Chicago, parenthood, the glory of living in Evanston (Tony’s an Evanstonian) and of course, The Vic & Paul Show.
We thoroughly enjoyed our conversation with Tony Adler – and we appreciated that the band rehearsal was one of life’s unexpected punch lines. Someday soon we’d love to continue our conversation with Tony. There’s not a nicer, more informed and erudite guy to talk to — or get thrown out of a restaurant with.
Later that evening, we enjoyed dinner with the Rashids and Emilia (and some of her college friends) at Union – a classy Evanston gourmet pizzeria that’s connected to SPACE. (SPACE is the best place for live music on the North Shore – and the site of Riffmaster & The Rockme Foundation’s triumphant reunion concert last year: our first gig in the Chicago area in more than two decades.)
There was also a Rockme connection to the next item on our Saturday evening agenda. Our Rockme band mate, Maurice “Mr. Mo” Cleary was playing a few Bob Dylan songs on his ukulele as part of a 70th Birthday celebration for Dylan at Evanston’s Café Mozart at 600 Davis Street – just a short walk from Union.
Café Mozart was packed when we arrived, and Vic and Bea had to drink their coffee sitting under the bar, as we listened to a series of acoustic performances of classic Dylan tunes by local musicians. Then, Mr. Mo stepped up to the stage with his uke. And it sounded like this…
Next, Steve and I joined Mr. Mo for an abridged, semi-Byrds-like version of “Mr. Tambourine Man”. We hadn’t planned to do this in advance – and how Steve managed to suddenly pull a harmonica out of thin air I still don’t know…
After the show at Café Mozart, we said goodnight to Emilia, then went home to Steve and Bea’s house and played Mahjong for the first time. It’s hard enough to learn Mahjong – but when you start off with hardly any sleep, a long, busy day, and two glasses of Chardonnay – it doesn’t get any easier. At the end of the game, all four of us were just one tile short of victory. And we were also out of gas.
Rick Kogan
The next day, Vic, Steve and I rehearsed the songs for The Vic & Paul Show – including our just-written musical tribute to Chicago’s brand new Mayor Rahm Emmanuel.
We also prepared some audio clips for our appearance on Rick Kogan’s WGN Radio show, The Sunday Papers, at 8:00 am CST on Sunday, May 29th. (You Midwestern early-birds may want to check it out. The rest of you can hear it online.)
We spent lunchtime with our good friends and former NU classmates, Nili Yelin and Bill Wronski. Vic and I both performed in improv comedy groups with Bill back in the day — and Nili was one of my close theatre department classmates. Nili now helps to run the landmark Wilmette Theatre. After lunch, she showed us around this cultural treasure, built in 1913. If you live anywhere near the North Shore, you’ve got to check out what they’re doing at The Wilmette Theatre.
Time was running out on our dream weekend, and our flight back home was just hours away, so we threw our bags in the trunk, jumped into our rental car, and made one last stop to meet our daughter Emilia at Kafein, a groovy local coffee shop. (One of the dozens that now exist in Evanston. The number of groovy coffee shops back in our day? Zero.) Rain was starting to fall as we said goodbye to our darling Emilia and headed out to O’Hare for our 7:50 pm direct flight back to Los Angeles.
It didn’t work out that way.
As I said at the beginning — our perfect weekend of business, pleasure, family and friendship would end on a less than perfect note.
Due to the tornadoes in Missouri and other threatening weather in the area, our 7:50 flight to L.A. was cancelled (after several dispiriting) delays) at about 9:00 pm. To make matters worse, Spirit had only one more flight going west that night: to Las Vegas, leaving at 10:00 pm and arriving at 2:00 am. But the Spirit personnel at the gate could not arrange to put anyone on that flight. We would have to go to the ticket counters downstairs.
By the time we got to the ticket counters, there were about a hundred disgruntled, increasingly agitated people already in line – so Vic started working the phone. She directed me to get in line.
While in line, I heard a ticket agent in the very empty First Class line call out, “Anyone going to Vegas?” I raced over to take my spot, just third from the start of the line. When the ticket agent tried to clarify that she was only referring to travelers going to Vegas – and not those intending to go on to Los Angeles – those of us in line made it clear that we were not going anywhere. She relented. A victory.
Soon, Vic walked up to say she’d booked us on the 10:00 pm flight to Vegas — and within minutes we’d checked our bags, gone back through security, and took our places at the gate, waiting until about 10:30, when the flight finally took off, just ahead of the approaching storm.
We got to the Vegas airport at 2:00 am, picked up our bags at baggage claim, and for the next four hours, we tried to find comfortable spots in McCarran Airport to plug in our failing cell phone and catch a few winks before the ticket counters opened at 6:00 am – at which time we could check our bags for our 8:00 am flight to Los Angeles.
By 10:00 am, we were back at LAX and by 11:00, we were home. By Noon, Vic was at school and I was at work. Tired, to be sure — but happy to have spent a wonderful weekend in the treasured city that will always be home in our hearts.
Paul's Voyage of Discovery & Etc. 