Author: rakemag

I don’t know much about the following event, other than the fact that it touches upon something that we, as a culture of collective music-heads, have all felt. Before The Music Dies is a documentary film dealing with music-making in the wake of its corporatization. I suspect it is, for the most part, comprised of interviews with various industry figures and musicians, such as Erykah Badu and Dave Matthews… You can check out the film’s website to get a lil’ taste. And if then you want the full feast, the film screens at the Kitty Cat Klub tonight at 7 p.m.

Hate to plug the obvious, but The Lit 6 Project‘s having another show this weekend. And they’ve been inviting some musician friends into the fold as of late, which makes things pretty interesting. This time that’ll be Chris Koza. There’s also a film preview/fundraiser for a long-in-the-making documentary by local filmmaker Melodie Gilbert. Her most notable project to date is probably Hole, a documentary about amputee wannabes. But this new flick’s about “urban explorers”–you know, the sorts of folks who like climbing about caves, sewer systems, and what not. (Yuck.) And finally, up about Northeast Minneapolis, there’s gonna be the NEMAA Fall Fine Arts Show as well as the NE Accordion Festival. Oompah!

Jon Ferguson‘s new show, Ligustrum Vulgare, is playing tonight at the Bryant Lake Bowl. (And I’m dragging Peter Schilling to go see it.) If you don’t already know, Ferguson is the Brit-born director who, in 2005, created the anti-war “clown show” Please Don’t Blow Up Mr. Boban, which starred many members of the Live Action Set. Even now, it stands out as one of my all-time favorite theatergoing experiences…

Now Ferguson is turning his attention to the smaller battles we wage with, say, those oddball neighbors of ours. Ligustrum Vulgare was inspired by a newspaper article he once read about a guy who killed his neighbor in a dispute over the appropriate height for a privet hedge (thus the name Ligustrum Vulgare, Latin for privet hedge). I interviewed Ferguson earlier to week about this show (we’ll be running a short preview in our December issue–just in time to alert folks to the last two performances) and, not knowing much about it, the thing that struck me most was the method he used in casting the show’s actors. He purposefully sought out performers with “qualities of stillness and melancholy,” he said. And I knew this to be the case, at lease in one instance. One of the cast members is a mutual acquaintance of Ferguson’s and mine. This person embodies the very definition of a malcontent. I thought it pretty remarkable though, that Ferguson was able to view this characteristic as a strength. Lesser artists would’ve cast all their friends, since they’re so easy to get along with.

Whether you be toasting liberally or crying in your beers about the election results (I have a feeling that, like me, my readers are doing a little of both), it’ll probably be a good night to go way, way back (before you were too young or unborn to care about this shit): there’s B.B. King at Orchestra Hall and, if you’re really hating life, some sort of Johnny Cash backup band playing over at Lee’s (with opener “Johnny Trash”).

Happy election day. Two related happenings, where the worlds of art and politics collide: there’s an election night cocktail party at Gallery 13. And Bedlam Theatre will set about spoofing the television news in a one-night show at Bryant Lake Bowl.

Now, there’s a show I wish I had the ticket to see ‘n hear! Love the sound of an acoustic guitar… Love Habib Koite.

But I’m actually going to see Death of a President tonight… Finally. And because I’ve already written plenty about that flick, I figured I’d just put tonight’s happening-est music event front ‘n center. I find I’m a bit behind on my moviegoing as of late, in any case. And so I’m trying to pour energy there. I just got around to seeing Marie Antoinette for heaven’s sake! And I’m afraid I had to give that my thumbs down. Way down. This was about the most amateurish piece of art I’ve ever seen–from Dunst’s premature gazing into the camera, well before we felt any sort of empathy for the character (if we ever felt it at all), to the Chuck Taylors tucked amidst the queen’s stash. Having loved Sophia Coppola’s other films, The Virgin Suicides and Lost In Translation, I’ve been taking mental inventory ever since. Was I seduced by a pretty girl who trails off her sentences? Pretty clothes? (Wouldn’t be the first time.)

Easy! Go check out the westerly soulful Hacienda Brothers at the Calhoun Square Famous Dave’s.

I figured I’d toss off a few of tonight’s costume contests for those who’ve actually poured some thought and energy into their getups: For one, the Minnesota Opera’s Tales of Hoffman performance comes replete with a costume contest. (And just who got to raid that department?) The rock ‘n’ roll versions are at the T-Rock, Bryant Lake Bowl, Fine Line, and First Ave. What am I missing?

I won’t be partaking in any of tonight’s festivities (although I do want to see the opera). I already got dolled up in the requisite sexy digs this past weekend (Austin Powers-era Beyonce), and won’t be putting my self-esteem through that ever again. Happy Halloween, in any case! And ladies, do y’selves a favor and lay off the pleather and thigh-highs!