Latest news with #AuditoriumTheatre
Chicago Tribune
18-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
CBS is canceling ‘The Late Show With Stephen Colbert'
CBS is axing 'The Late Show With Stephen Colbert' in May 2026, the host told an audience at a taping Thursday. The announcement came two days after Colbert spoke out against CBS Global settling with President Donald Trump over a '60 Minutes' story. The news was also announced in a press release sent from CBS with a link to a clip of Colbert's announcement on Instagram. The comedian and TV personality began by telling the audience he was sharing something he learned the night before, that 'Next year will be our last season. The network will be ending the Late Show in May… it's the end of the Late Show on CBS. I'm not being replaced. This is all just going away.' The most recent ratings from Nielsen show Colbert as winning his timeslot, with about 2.417 million viewers across 41 new episodes. It also said his late night show was the only one to gain viewers so far this year. 'The Late Show with Stephen Colbert' was broadcast from the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention last year. Stephen Colbert broadcasts from Chicago's Auditorium Theatre for DNC, a late 'Late Show' of very local love
Chicago Tribune
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
How Disney's ‘Beauty and the Beast' first brought families to Broadway
The new Disney tour of 'Beauty and the Beast' playing this summer at the Cadillac Palace Theatre is introducing bookish Belle, clever Chip and garrulous Gaston to younger generations who were not even born in 1993 when Disney decided to take a stab at turning an animated movie into a Broadway musical. They're also unlikely to know the significance of this particular musical in the history of the art form. But in fact, 'Beauty and the Beast' sparked a revolution in bringing family audiences back to Broadway. And the success of the show changed the face of the Disney organization. In the 1980s, the British producer Cameron Mackintosh had come to dominate the market for massive musical spectacles with a succession of shows: 'Cats,' 'Phantom of the Opera,' 'Les Misérables' and 'Miss Saigon.' These productions played London and New York and toured all over the world, running for years in cities from Cleveland to Green Bay, providing a boon to historic theaters like the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago, which programmed such musicals for years. Mackintosh's secret? His touring productions, which crisscrossed the country in fleets of trucks, were fully the equal of the shows in London and New York. The touring circuit had previously been dependent on stars, but humans are finicky and capricious. Mackintosh had figured out that the better business model was to make the entire production the star. That way, few knew and even fewer cared about who was or was not playing Fantine, say, on a given night. Mackintosh was an independent. The big U.S. studios, like Disney, had previously concluded that Broadway, with its high production costs and risks, did not offer enough of a potential payoff to be worth their time. But by the early 1990s, they were beginning to realize how much money Mackintosh had been making. Something else had happened, too. Disney had decided to reboot its animated franchise with a series of new musical movies that were heavy on songs. The studio had found an enormously gifted duo named Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, who'd made a splash in New York with a 1986 off-Broadway show named 'Little Shop of Horrors.' Although Ashman died from AIDS at the age of 40 during the creation of the film version of 'Beauty and the Beast' (just weeks before its release), the pair wrote eight songs for the movie, following up on their 1989 success with 'The Little Mermaid,' a film that had won two Academy Awards. Even more than 'Mermaid,' 'Beauty and the Beast' was very much constructed as a classic Broadway musical, with Belle set up as a Gigi-like heroine. The title song won an Oscar for best original song and the rest of the score was filled with gems. Which could not be said of most of the live shows on Broadway at the time. Frank Rich, then the chief critic for the New York Times, wrote a seminal article in December 1991 calling the movie musical 'The Hit That Got Away,' saying 'the best Broadway musical score of 1991 was that written by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman for the Disney animated musical 'Beauty and the Beast.' Rich noted, pointedly, that the pair had never worked as a team on a Broadway musical. 'Disney had just not thought stage musicals were the right business for them,' Menken said in a recent telephone interview. 'But although 'Beauty and the Beast' was an animated movie, it actually had a really strong stage sensibility.' And, of course, it had those hit songs, including some that had hit the cutting-room floor and could be put back into use. Disney's chairman at the time, Michael Eisner, had also read Rich's article and was well aware of the movie's theatricality. So he ordered up a Broadway stage version of 'Beauty and the Beast.' Up until that point, Disney had never done a full-blown musical, nothing much, really, beyond its early theme-park performances with foam heads and ice shows. 'Michael was a giant fan of theater. He was a former theater student, so he cared deeply about the form,' said Thomas Schumacher, by far the most important Disney executive when it comes to what became a succession of stage musicals, developing in sophistcation and specifically theatrical artistry, but moving through a door opened by 'Beauty and the Beast.' In essence, the show became the animated movie translated to the stage. That was all that it occurred to Disney to do. (That would change, to spectacular effect, with 'The Lion King' as Schumacher became the head of what morphed into Disney Theatricals, and Julie Taymor was brought on board and creative people wrestled with the problem of a movie starring a cast of animals, not period French folk.) 'I think of 'Beauty and the Beast' was the show we did that is the closest to the original Walt Disney ethos,' Menken said. 'The look of it. The style of it. The Bavarian village. And, of course, it's the most theatrical, given Gaston, Belle and 'Be Our Guest.'' The film had been Menken's last collaboration with Ashman, searing the memory of his beloved creative partner. The famed British lyricist Tim Rice had come on board to help Menken with the stage musical. But when it came to writing the additional songs clearly necessary for a full-blown musical, Menken no longer had Ashman, who had pitched the idea for an animated movie version of 'Beauty and the Beast' in the first place. 'I found a cassette one day,' Menken said, 'from back when we were using cassettes. I think I was going to record over it. But when I played it, I heard Howard and I working on a song for 'Beauty and the Beast.' We were struggling to find the right tone and the right music.' They found it of course — a romantic, swirling aesthetic, filled with gorgeous melodies and all of the vibrancy of the original animated film. Only with living people. As part of its animated sensibility, director Robert Jess Roth's original production of 'Beauty and the Beast' had plenty of knock-out theatrical tricks, including a clever idea to put Chip, the talking cup from the film, on his own on-stage tray, seemingly making him a head-only character. Above all, the show delighted audience with its 'Be Our Guest' centerpiece, a dancing-flatware tribute to Disney's 'Fantasia,' as well as its famous moment of beastly transformation wherein Belle finally got all of her heart's desires. The show was never a critical favorite; reviews on Broadway were tepid, for the most part. 'There was a lot of cynicism,' Menken said, 'about Disney moving in on Broadway. We were pretty much treated with derision.' Any such derision did not hinder the show's success. The original Broadway run of 'Beauty and the Beast' production would play for 5,461 performances (some 13 years), and became the tenth longest running show in Broadway history. According to Schumacher, the original production has seen more global reproductions than 'The Lion King' or pretty much any other title you might mention. 'It is beloved around the world,' Schumacher said, simply enough. 'Beauty and the Beast' also brought kids and their parents to Broadway. Disney quickly realized that these titles could attract groups of four or more and, in the years that followed, Schumacher's team developed sophisticated pricing and marketing strategies that were aimed at families and would also be used for 'The Lion King' and 'Aladdin,' shows still playing in New York and attracting an audience that constantly renews itself as kids age into their target demographics. None of that would have happened without the massive success of 'Beauty and the Beast' — a new kind of musical that was a long way from 'Cabaret,' 'A Chorus Line' and 'Chicago' and that proved Broadway didn't have to be just for adults. Review: New tour of 'Beauty and the Beast' lives up to all the expectationsNow, the all-new U.S. tour, which has freshened the title without removing its traditional appeal, is focused on a new generation of families. For Menken, of course, the success of 'Beauty and the Beast' came in the wake of his heartbreak over Ashman's death. But he wrote a new song, 'Home,' for the stage show in tribute to his friend and 'seamless collaborator.' 'Home,' with its lilting melody, was the repurposing of a separate song, 'My Old Friend,' Menken had written after Ashman's death. By consciously doing so, Menken found a way to write Ashman into the stage version of 'Beauty and the Beast' and not just the animated movie into which the late genius had poured his heart. 'Is this home?' Belle sings in 'Home' of a castle that seems at first like a very chilly spot, before the Beast transforms into her true love. 'Is this what I must learn to believe in?' she sings, gaining in her certitude. 'Try to find something good in this tragic place …' Belle finds that good. So did Menken. So did Disney. And audiences in Chicago, few of whom know his history, currently are enjoying the good that came from 'Beauty and the Beast' every night.
Chicago Tribune
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Dance for Life announces lineup for 2025, its biggest in decades
Dance for Life has announced the lineup for its 2025 performance and gala in August at the Auditorium Theatre and Venue SIX10. The list of Chicago-area dance companies participating this summer includes the Chicago Tap All-Stars, Deeply Rooted Dance Theater, Giordano Dance Chicago, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, the Joffrey Ballet, Movement Revolution Dance Crew, South Chicago Dance Theatre, Trinity Irish Dance Company and Visceral Dance Chicago, plus a first-time appearance for Aerial Dance Chicago. Choreographer Jonathan Alsberry, who contributed in 2024, will return to create the performance's finale, a work including dancers from across the Chicago area. Dance for Life 2025 co-chairs are Jamin and Ekua McGinnis. This will be the 34th annual fundraiser for the nonprofit Chicago Dance Health Fund, and according to an announcement Thursday, it will have the largest lineup since 1993. More information about the works the companies are performing will be announced in June. Dance for Life was launched in 1992 to raise money to support Chicago-area dancers in response to the AIDS crisis. In the years since, it formed as a nonprofit and expanded its mission to provide financial support for preventive health care and medical needs for members of Chicago's professional dance community. 6 p.m. at The Auditorium, 50 E. Ida B. Wells Drive, followed by an After Party Gala at Venue SIX10, 610 S. Michigan Ave.; tickets ($45-$125 for the performance only, $500 for performance and gala) go on sale June 3 at 312-341-2300 and A presale runs May 13 to June 3 with $125 tickets available for $75; use code DFLPRESALE.
Chicago Tribune
29-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Review: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at Salt Shed: Less outlaw, more spiritualist
'We've all had too much sorrow,' Nick Cave sang Monday at the first of a two-night stand at Salt Shed. 'Now is the time for joy.' And so it was. The esteemed singer-songwriter teamed with his longtime backing band the Bad Seeds, complete with a four-piece choir, to deliver engaging variations on gospel. Cave gave new meaning to the laying on of hands as he reached into the sold-out crowd to grasp outstretched arms, and at several points, a few hands volunteered as temporary receptacles when the vocalist sought a place to put his microphone as he mopped sweat from his brow. For 150 unhurried minutes, Cave channeled spirits and spirituals. Touring in support of the recent 'Wild God' album, the 67-year-old Australian native embraced proven storytelling concepts such as exuberance, wonder, grandiosity, exaggeration and imagination. Cave tapped a deep well of Old Testament mythology and metaphorical language, and with his clear tenor and adaptable ensemble, brought the right tools to create soundscapes that matched his vivid imagery. No matter how bloody and horrific things got — unrepentant prisoners, trigger-happy madmen, lustful murderers and wicked schemers all figured into his songs — Cave kept returning to love, mercy and redemption. Yes, the singer —adorned in his typical black suit and polished black dress shoes — plays the roles of dapper villain and charlatan evangelist as well as anyone in rock 'n' roll. But the transformation of Cave into a mellower, comforting presence that began a little more than a decade ago continued to take shape here. Nearly eight years have passed since Cave last hit town with the renowned Bad Seeds. Not that the group's leader has been a stranger to the area. Cave treated fans to two rare solo shows in fall 2023 at the Auditorium Theatre, where he and bassist Colin Greenwood distilled songs to a skeletal form. A year earlier at the same venue, he paired with veteran Bad Seed Warren Ellis — his creative foil on more than a dozen soundtracks and one original studio record — for their first tour as a duo. Perhaps coincidentally, Cave's output during the 2010s didn't require the full-on force of the Bad Seeds. Pursuing directions hinted at on 'Push the Sky Away' (2013), and adopted on the ambient-leaning 'Skeleton Tree' (2016) and meandering 'Ghosteen' (2019), he pursued quieter, intimate fare that prized synthesized lushness and modular architecture. The most pronounced detours followed the death of his 15-year-old son, Arthur, and served as solemn meditations on unspeakable anguish. Grief and doubt — Cave lost another son in 2022 — informed portions of the 22-song set. Threatening to shatter with every word, his threadbare voice captured the unremitting pain that accompanies desperate uncertainty on a remarkable solo rendition of 'I Need You.' The melancholic beauty of 'O Children' functioned as a simultaneous confession and call to action, though Cave's recurrent command to rejoice remained mired in hopelessness. Those efforts stood in contrast to the tidal swell and hymn-like uplift of Cave's newest fare. Structural similarities aside, the emotional tugs toward reassuring optimism and courageous adventure on 'Wild God,' 'Frogs' and 'Conversion' proved as sincere as the melodies that washed over arrangements like a purifying balm. Drawing on church traditions — call-and-response exchanges, layered harmonies, the female members' robed attire — the backing vocalists helped mold the shimmering moods and material. Not every moment gave a positive impression. The soupy 'Cinnamon Horses' took too long to burst out of the gate. 'Song of the Lake' too closely recycled the patterns of other atmospheric, late-era Cave tunes. The singer's incessant 'yeah, yeah, yeah' interjections grew stale. He also briefly lost his place amid the stalking 'Red Right Hand' and, shockingly, confused Chicago with Detroit when he mentioned the latter city while interacting with the audience. Apologizing, an embarrassed Cave stated he and his band's faculties often hung by a thread. Understandable. A famously physical performer, Cave divided time between sitting at a piano and prowling a stage-width walkway that brought him face to face with his fervent congregation. Hopping, bounding, conducting, clapping, pointing, punching, dropping to his knees: He moved as if electrical currents surged through his wiry frame, his pipe-cleaner arms darting out from his torso in opposite directions, his quick-draw feet operating in concert with his swiveling hips to dance an impromptu tango. Cave is no longer the full-time outlaw who once presided over stages with an endless reserve of savage chaos and manic intensity, yet he can still flip that switch. As the Bad Seeds conjured the violent sounds of turbulent thunderstorms, shredded metal and snapped limbs, he chronicled the disastrous flood of 'Tupelo' with a frightening discharge of howls, barks, shouts and screams. The coda of an extended 'Jubilee Street' witnessed a frantic Cave casually flip his microphone and let it fall to the ground as he rushed to the piano to pound boogie-woogie lines before he indulged one final delirious vocal purge. Content to operate in the shadows, drummer Larry Mullins, percussionist Jim Sclavunos and Greenwood (of Radiohead lore) anchored sophisticated rhythmic footings that involved specialized devices ranging from the marimba and xylophone to suspended chimes, mallets and cymbals. Squirreled away in his own little area, surrounded by an armada of amplifiers and pedals, Ellis preferred an extroverted, animated approach. The only person to compete with Cave on the showmanship front, the hirsute multi-instrumentalist conjured the freewheeling disposition of a snickering prankster and the innocuous nature of an old barfly who adores attention. He precariously stood on a curved chair, bent into L-shaped positions to add backup vocals and slouched, cross-legged, into his seat during brief pauses. Ellis was a hoot, and his violin and electric guitar playing, as well as his wordless vocal cries, warranted praise. Cave offered as much, calling his friend's contributions 'beautiful.' It's a description the singer used on multiple occasions, most notably on his spoken introduction to 'Skeleton Tree.' Cave talked of rediscovering the ballad and putting an end to its cursed status. As he ushered the subdued song to its conclusion, the reclamation came full circle. 'And it's all right now,' Cave repeated in soothing tones. Even if only for that instant, no matter what the outside world suggested, you had no logical choice but to believe him. Gospel, and the good news, at its finest. Bob Gendron is a freelance critic. Setlist from Salt Shed on April 28: 'Frogs' 'Wild God' 'Song of the Lake' 'O Children' 'Jubilee Street' 'From Her to Eternity' 'Long Dark Night' 'Cinnamon Horses' 'Tupelo' 'Conversion' 'Bright Horses' 'Joy' 'I Need You' 'Carnage' 'Final Rescue Attempt' 'Red Right Hand' 'The Mercy Seat' 'White Elephant' Encore 'Papa Won't Leave You, Henry' 'The Weeping Song' 'Skeleton Tree' 'Into My Arms'
Chicago Tribune
03-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Alvin Ailey returns to the Auditorium as the company enters a new era and a dancer says farewell
'A scene ends in blackout and suddenly the stage is ablaze with a burnished, orange sun. Out come the women, in white frocks and wide hats, their hands aflutter in a desperate, probably losing battle to stave off the heat. They're in church, but they're home, too … We're in Alvin Ailey territory, and the work, of course, is 'Revelations,' dance images as distinct and memorable as any in our fading century.' Tribune critic Sid Smith wrote in 1998 of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater's annual trip to the Auditorium Theatre — a tradition almost as old as the company itself. In the same review, Smith lauded both Judith Jamison, a founding dancer who assumed leadership in 1989 when founder Alvin Ailey died, and a young dancer, Matthew Rushing, who shepherds it today. Rushing has been interim artistic director since 2023, filling the shoes Jamison wore for decades before Robert Battle's 12-year tenure. Former Ailey dancer Alicia Graf Mack, who most recently was head of the dance program at Juilliard, will be the company's permanent artistic director leading into the 2025-26 season. It is thus the dawn of a new era for Ailey, which returns to the Auditorium Theatre March 7-9. The opening performance includes a special tribute to Jamison, who died in November 2024. It's also the final time Chicago native Vernard Gilmore will perform here as part of the company; after almost 30 years with the organization, he'll retire at the end of the season — the last company member on the current roster Jamison hired. 'You just know,' Gilmore said of his pending departure. 'I'm ready to take on new things.' It is an uncharacteristically short run in Chicago, lasting just three days and four public performances. Rushing said touring has shifted significantly since the pandemic, but Chicago is one of just a handful of non-negotiable cities. Despite the short stay, they've added an additional school show, bussing children from all over the city to sit in the Auditorium's golden seats for a daytime performance. That's how Gilmore first found out about Ailey. 'It's a pretty amazing legacy to be a part of,' Gilmore said. A full circle moment was performing the iconic 'I Wanna be Ready' solo from 'Revelations' as part of the Auditorium's 2019 showcase celebrating 50 years since the 1889 venue reopened to the public after closing during the Great Depression. 'It's been a constant inspiration to keep a coalition together to keep reaching out to the public and bring people into the theater,' said Gilmore, 'especially people like me from the South Side.' Gilmore grew up in Englewood. His early dance training included Joseph Holmes Dance Theatre and Barat College, a private college in Lake Forest that housed a dance conservatory. The conservatory folded when DePaul University bought the college 2001. The campus closed altogether in 2005. Gilmore praised his teachers at Joseph Holmes and Barat; he's kept them in his biography since joining Ailey II in 1995. 'Not many dancers can boast such a long performing career,' said Rory Foster, a former American Ballet Theatre dancer who was dean of the Barat College Dance Conservatory. 'There was never a doubt among our faculty that (Gilmore) was destined to have a successful professional career.' 'Vernard pushed himself constantly in class, listening and absorbing everything, which made it a pleasure to teach him,' said Emily Stein, who taught Gilmore's ballet classes at both Barat College and Joseph Holmes Dance Theatre. 'He could see what he wanted and was willing to make the commitment and do the work to get there.' As Gilmore now looks to pass the torch to the next generation, he feels the responsibility of his role as a senior company member, passing down the stories and culture of a uniquely American institution. But he's also been on stage often and long enough that he can now just enjoy being in the moment. 'I'm a firm believer in Judith Jamison's words: Hold onto the past, live in the present, reach fearlessly into the future,' he said. As for his own future, Gilmore plans to seek opportunities to choreograph, following in the footsteps of colleagues such as Hope Boykin and Rushing, whose pieces 'Finding Free' and 'Sacred Songs' will be performed for the first time in Chicago. The mixed-bill, divided into two distinct programs, also features a refreshed, 25th-anniversary staging of Ronald K. Brown's 'Grace,' a new production of Elisa Monte's 1979 'Treading' and the Chicago premiere of 'Many Angels,' a rare new piece by Chicago native Lar Lubovitch. Rushing looks forward to resuming his role as associate director when Graf Mack takes over, giving him more time to choreograph. He managed to squeeze in a new piece for Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, set to premiere in May, in addition to 'Sacred Songs,' a work culled from discarded parts of Alvin Ailey's original evening-length version of 'Revelations.' But he's got no plans to leave Ailey. 'It's simple but it's profound,' Rushing said. 'Mr. Ailey wanted to make a place and a vehicle for dancers of color when they didn't have it. But he also wanted to celebrate humanity. When you step into this organization and you experience that firsthand, there's something that shifts in your life. You can't shake it. It gets into your DNA.' Lauren Warnecke is a freelance critic.
