Author: rakemag

When Allison Krauss walked out of the river singing in O Brother, Where Art Thou?, she put a whole new face on bluegrass music. But the Coen brothers weren’t the first to discover her dulcet tones; she’s been a mainstay of the old-time music scene since she was a kid. On her new album, Lonely Runs Both Ways, Krauss’s sweet soprano contemplates troublesome topics like rainy days, wanderlust, and loneliness. She’s backed once again by Union Station, whose sound is as exacting and precise as an orchestra’s, albeit one dominated by a mandolin and fiddle.

Any Red Hot Chili Peppers fan or Behind the Music devotee had a hard time shaking off the ghostly image of John Frusciante during his heroin haze years—but now? Talk about Dead Man Rocking. Deemed by Flea to be one of the most musically creative souls in music today, Frusciante has cleaned up, pulled himself together, and rejoined the Peppers. He also continues to make solo records. Six in the last year, to be exact. His goal was to make a full-length recording every month, and with his label Record Collection (also home to local fave Har Mar Superstar), he has thrown his hardcore fans the ultimate musical bone.

The 1992 telling of this anti-holiday tale on National Public Radio launched the career of author and commentator David Sedaris. His look at Christmas from the perspective of a verbally abused adult, one wearing the curly-toed shoes and green tights of a Macy’s Christmas Elf in New York City, is hilarious and uniquely Sedaris. Bryant-Lake Bowl’s version of his modern classic will make you think twice before you stand in line to sit your kids on the lap of a strange fat man. 810 W. Lake St., Minneapolis; 612-825-8949; www.bryantlakebowl.com

True life is the stuff of great art—an axiom put to great use in Inherit the Wind, a play loosely based upon the infamous Scopes “monkey trial.” Written in 1955, the script re-imagines the plight of John Scopes, the high school biology teacher who, in 1925, was famously prosecuted for teaching evolution theory. Both the sixty-year-old script and the ninety-year-old trial are still timely, with evolution versus creationism continuing to dog our public school teachers. (All of this makes us question any theory that suggests humans—especially lawmakers—might actually be evolving.) This staging is part of Fifty Foot Penguin’s “anti-Christmas show” tradition, offering a dramatic courtroom battle a la The Crucible and Twelve Angry Men. Cedar Riverside People’s Center, 425 S. 20th Ave., Minneapolis; 612-381-1110; www.fiftyfootpenguin.org

So maybe some of us do want sparkle and magic at the theater this time of year—and that’s OK! Especially if it’s done by Dolls frontman and master choreographer Myron Johnson, who playfully integrates old-fashioned ballroom dance and avant-garde compositions, giving his work an off-kilter texture. His throwback charms are well-suited for revitalizing a familiar fairy tale, and he has vowed to follow closely Cinderella’s enchanting storyline. Still, while you might not expect a cross-dressing showgirl as the Fairy Godmother, it’s hard not to be suspicious about Johnson’s intentions for the belle of the ball. And yet it is a family-friendly show, so bring the young ’uns to revel in the Dolls’ madcap dancing, screwball costuming, and offbeat tunes—spiked, no doubt, with a few surprises. 345 Washington St., St. Paul; 651-224-4222; www.balletofthedolls.org

According to Japanese folklore, Taiko drums can carry the prayers of their players to heaven. As disciples of this tradition, this collection of drummers use enough force to wake the Samurai spirits who initiated this ritual. The annual Taiko Blizzard festival—featuring Mu Performing Arts’ Daiko drum core and the renowned Winnipeg-based Fubuki Daiko squad—blends pulsating beats with rhythmic, athletic dancing and action-packed stunts. Given such gushing intensity for both the eyes and ears, it’s no surprise that sold-out shows are as much a part of this tradition as the concert itself. 1420 Washington Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-340-1725; www.southerntheater.org

A welcome Christmas gift from Wes.
If you measured the success of a film director by the number of cool actors who stand in line to work with him, Wes Anderson would surely win by a long shot. And why not? If you pay close attention, you quickly understand why a film like Rushmore or The Royal Tenenbaums is so beloved by character actors and movie critics alike. These films are rich in humane humor, and they feature some of the smartest writing and show off one of the most charmingly quirky sensibilities in major motion pictures today. These are qualities you cannot buy through special effects or soundtracks or even a twenty-million-dollar leading lady. They are the unique sensibility of a true auteur—and Anderson is head and shoulders above pretenders of his generation like Spike Jonze and Sofia Coppola. The color palette alone of Anderson’s newest Bill Murray vehicle is making our mouths water—pastel blues, grays, and pinks frame a wacky story about an oceanographer who is slightly more Clouseau than Cousteau. As for our own Bill Murray worship, this film will be a welcome relief from his temporary setback of Lost in Translation, a grossly overrated exercise in directorial vanity.

That eight-hundred-page bulge in many a geek’s stocking this year is Clarke’s first novel, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, whose titular characters are magicians who decide to redirect British history. Clarke’s incredibly detailed and ambitious work weaves real and imagined history, mythology, and period manners into a sly, often humorous narrative. Her book has been called “a Harry Potter for adults,” but, since we often saw adults reading the Harry Potter series in the first place, consider this a lengthy and highly entertaining continuation in the literate public’s attempts to escape reality. Clarke talked to us from a German hotel room as she settled in for a night of solitude after a long day on her book tour.

THE RAKE: Fantasy literature isn’t usually highly regarded, but Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell was a contender for this year’s very serious Booker Prize. Do you think attitudes towards the genre are changing, or is there something different about your book?

I certainly think attitudes are changing a bit toward fantasy and toward genres in general. A few years ago when Philip Pullman’s was longlisted for the Booker, some people questioned the book’s right to be there, simply because his book was a children’s book. But no one blinked when Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell made the longlist. Barriers between categories are breaking down a little. It helps that “literary” writers are borrowing from different genres—finding a vitality there, which is perhaps sometimes missing from literary fiction. I suspect it helps that Strange and Norrell is a bit of a blend of genres. Sure, it’s fantasy, but there’s also some historical fiction, adventure, and mystery. So the fantasy comes wearing an interesting post-modernish dress.

Who is most like you: Jonathan Strange or Gilbert Norrell? Who did you enjoy writing more?

Neither is much like me. But there are a few similarities between me and Norrell. We both like staying at home, surrounded by books and being quiet. In that way, Norrell is quite like lots of writers—except that he doesn’t write anything. I probably enjoyed writing Strange more, because I suspect he has more good dialogue, by which I mean more funny dialogue. But Norrell was good to write, too, especially when he was being ridiculous.

Your book is heavily footnoted and as carefully researched as a made-up world can be. What are your favorite reference sources?

I particularly like secondhand books on social history, English folklore, and old country ways and beliefs. For example, there’s a Welsh author, George Ewart Evans, who interviewed English country people in the fifties and sixties about what they could remember about past customs and beliefs. Some of their stories reached back to the mid-nineteenth century. He talks about things like horses’ skulls buried under floors and beliefs about bee-keeping, stuff like that. Horse-whispering was once quite a big thing in Eastern England and Scotland.

For the behavior and ideas of the country gentry in the early nineteenth century, Jane Austen can’t be bettered. There’s also a series of little books published here [in England] by Shire Books on all sorts of odd subjects: spoons 1645-1930, candle lighting, mausoleums, smocks, smoking antiques, and so on. I collect these compulsively. But what I like best is the research I’m going to do next. Once you’ve begun and you’re seriously into it, it becomes a bit like homework, but the research you’re going to do next is always interesting.

I hear you’re a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Did you take any lessons from its writers as you worked on your book?

The things I loved in Buffy are the same as the things I love in other literature and films. A pushing-together of light and dark, comedy and themes of death, madness, loss. A wonderful quirky style of dialogue. Wonderful characterization and plots that come out of the characterization. I hope that I got some of these things into Strange and Norrell. I’m actually expecting Buffy to influence my writing a little more in the future.

Not to give anything away, but you wrap up your book in an unusual fashion. What was your intention with this?
One of the things I tried to avoid in Strange and Norrell was the usual big fantasy showdown between a clear source of good and a clear source of evil. It’s much more about people with good and evil in them. I think that that is reflected in the ending.

Susanna Clarke reads December 9 at Barnes & Noble, Har Mar Mall, 2100 N. Snelling Ave., Roseville, 651-639-9256 and December 10 at Bound to Be Read, 870 Grand Ave., St. Paul, 651-646-2665

Boehlke, the Jungle Theater’s artistic director, is currently hard at work reprising Under Milk Wood, Dylan Thomas’ radio play that takes place in Llareggub, a fictional Welch fishing village. Despite its name, which happens to be “bugger all” spelled backwards, Llareggub is a quaint, charming place where everyday folks just happen to speak in Thomas’ sprawling poetic tongue. Even though Boehlke was immersed in all things Welsh, we persuaded him to prepare a shopping list for an imaginary exile to an unpopulated tropical isle (which would probably be most welcome come January).

1) The Complete Works of Shakespeare because, well, I would want to read something that has great variety and density of subject matter, that is both lightweight and profound, with comedic and tragic elements to it. Plus, when I finally got off the island I would have some plays I had all worked out in my head!

2) A simple kitchen kit: A really good knife, cutting board, and hand juicer to prepare some simple and beautiful meals on the island. I suppose one could rip at the food, but I would like to retain a modicum of civilized behavior. I once was a caterer so I know how important a good knife is. I used to bake gourmet desserts for the Loring Café right before I founded the Jungle. Also, with a knife I could carve a pan flute. As Shakespeare said, “Music soothes the savage breast.”

3) A hatchet to make a charming bamboo hut with a palm leaf roof that would provide shelter. I think there is something innate in us as humans that insists on building structures for protection from the clime.

4) A clothing kit: a hat with a brim because I’m fair, so I could enjoy the sun; white shirt and white pants made of natural fiber to protect me; and a string to create a necklace of driftwood or a stone to hang about my neck.

5) Pencil and paper tablet to write, because we all have a need for self-expression and a way to record the philosophical and poetic considerations we formulate. Since there’s no one but me on the desert island, but because one’s need to communicate is still intact, I would need to write to be fulfilled.

Though we usually tend toward the testosterone, we’ve been getting in touch with our feminine side around here lately. Manicures and massages, girl-power nights—we even broke in our new “Smart Women Make Changes” eraser by rubbing out the groveling ex. So we’re eager to see this theatrical take on the sexual revolution, blending fact and fiction and told variously by a fifties-era psychotherapist, his wife, their daughter, and a contemporary single mom. Picture Freud in a nightie: It’s got nothing to do with the performance, but it sure is funny!