Brian Hieggelke

Sid Smith really surprised me. Saturday morning, and I was recovering from the Newcity-sponsored after-party at Hotel W's Wave for the MCA performance of "Alibi" by the Meg Stuart/Damaged Goods troupe from Europe. I'd really liked "Alibi" in spite of its relentlessly unpleasant subject matter and its moments of excessive repetition--the performers shake convulsively for twenty-four minutes at the end, for example, in an unclocked-but-thought-provoking counterpoint to a "six-minute" timed break that lasts only two minutes in the middle of the piece, but I could have gotten the point with, say, eleven minutes. In any case, even its less tolerable segments sowed several species of rich discourse at the after-party, and I would argue that a sign of an artwork's value is the quality of the argument it provokes. On that measure, "Alibi" was a smash. A relatively abstract blend of dance, theater, art, video, violence and insanity, the work stands as a rather troubling commentary on a world that sometimes feels like it's on the brink of World War 3, and worse, is oblivious due to the clatter of the culture. "Alibi" assaults the senses with a visual richness and sonic attack that is exceeded by astonishing performances. From emotional facial and speech contortions to the amazing physical energy that they bring to the stage, this troupe of Europeans and Americans left jaws dropping. So Saturday, when I picked up the newspaper and read Smith's review, my jaw dropped again. For Smith unleashed one of the angriest, unrelentingly negative tirades that I've ever read about a show I've seen. Given the Tribune's normally milquetoast prose, Smith's review became, in some way, part of the show itself. Like the charming monologist (played by Davis Freeman) who disintegrates into paranoia, was Smith likewise disintegrating before my eyes? In any case, I got a voicemail later that evening from Freeman who, along with the rest of the cast, had become our chums the night before as the after-party led to an after-after-party and so on. On his message, he sounded despairing, and said that the reviews in Chicago--Hedy Weiss had dished equally vitriolic and surprisingly Smith-like in the Sun-Times--were the worst they'd received anywhere in the world. By now, of course, they're on to Sydney, and Chicago's but an unpleasant memory. Just another acclaimed avant-garde arts troupe getting slammed by the proverbial door on the way out of town. The night before, a couple members of the cast rode with me from the W over to Bucktown. On the way, we got caught in the middle of some gunfire at Cabrini Green, making for a rather special "Welcome to Chicago" moment. Little did I know they were really getting shot.

(2003-10-16)

Also by Brian Hieggelke

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Sushi joints are so plentiful in this city that they've become a modern-day version of the neighborhood diner: we tend to frequent the one close by as long as it is clean, fresh, friendly and reasonably priced.
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Electro energy
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The S series
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When hawks cry
(2003-03-26)

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