Sam Weller

Hot time, summer in the city, Pottery Barn picnic basket all packed up and pretty.

Ah, the Ravinia Festival. A Chicagoland tradition with roots dating all the way back to 1904. For nearly a century, this open-air pavilion and surrounding park has been hosting classical and opera performances and, in more recent years, a smattering of adult-oriented pop fare. Nestled into a secret thicket of woods on Chicago's far North Shore, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra has made this rolling landscape of trees and flowers its summer home since 1936.

But perhaps even more than the music, Ravinia has become synonymous with elaborate sunset picnics, pastoral scenes of plaid blankets, chiming crystal glassware and flickering candles competing with the soft, green, fuzzy glow of fireflies.

On a recent Sunday evening, the scene is vintage Ravinia: The pink-orange dusk horizon darkens. Approaching the park, a Metra train lumbers in, cutting through the dense forest and releasing a loud sigh of air as the doors whisk open and the cargo of passengers unload. A throng of city folk and suburbanites storm the front archway of Ravinia. Gargantuan baby strollers roll in from all directions, like a fleet of SUVs storming a mall parking lot at Christmas. Most people in attendance carry lawn chairs--the cheapie garden-center type with the webbed nylon seat.

Tonight's musical program includes a melange of traditional American folk songs ("Yankee Doodle"), classic Gershwin ("Love Is Here to Stay") and a score of songs from cinematic soundtracks (you haven't heard cheese until you've heard the CSO perform Seal's "Batman Forever" melodrama "Kiss From a Rose").

Quickly, the picnic crowd unfurls their blankets, staking a plot of park property, squatter-style. Picnics at Ravinia go two ways. There are the low-key types who break out a bag of Doritos and pop open a bottle of Miller High Life; and there are a lot of these people tonight. Some even stopped off at Subway before the show for a foot-long tuna or a meatball with hot peppers and cheese.

The second group of picnickers is straight out of a photo spread in Martha Stewart Living. This is the Restoration Hardware crowd. They come armed with wicker cases packed methodically with cloth napkins and silverware. They light citronella candles and pop expensive bottles of bubbly.

A survey of this crowd yields an eclectic menu. There are mountainous bowls of dew-covered grapes. One family scoops out dollops of German potato salad. Wine pours freely, as does champagne and imported beer. A cloudy glass of hefeweizen, laden with lemon wedges, looks awfully good. There's brie and apple slices, shrimp cocktail and salades Nicoise. All around the park, there are small picnic tables, and even some very large, cafeteria-style tables, several of them draped with linen.

"We come out once year," says Suzanne Smith of west suburban St. Charles. "It's a long drive--a little over an hour--but it's worth it."

Smith has spared no expense, nor detail. She has a small table set to perfection. In the middle, there is a vase with fresh-cut flowers. There are cloth napkins, and candles burn away as the night grows ever darker (unfortunately, the music takes a dark turn, too, as the CSO has now launched into a full-fledged, symphonic rendition of "Heard it Through the Grapevine"). Tonight, the Smith family menu includes fruit salad, a loaf of fresh-baked sourdough and a bottle of velvety Merlot.

But the most elaborate scene at Ravinia is under a tent located on the park's north lawn. Tonight is Ravinia's second annual "Picnic in the Park Contest." Judged by Ravinia's Women's Board, awards are given for categories like Most Elegant picnic and Most Inventive.

Rogeria Starr of Elgin wins the prize for Most Creative, her table decked out in a Southwestern motif, complete with small Cachina Indian dolls standing over each place setting and china emblazoned with chili pepper designs. Her menu includes homemade white corn chips with avocado dip; corn on the cob; wild rice with sauteed mushrooms; and, the star of the show, grilled venison medallions. For dessert, there are Chambord-laced fresh raspberries and papaya spears marinated in light syrup.

For her efforts, Starr is awarded an engraved silver serving tray which, of course, will likely make a return trip to Ravinia.

Then, the CSO kicks into "The Circle of Life," from "The Lion King," and no amount of Veuve Clicquot nor High Life can hide the inevitable: Let's get outta here.

(2000-07-13)

Also by Sam Weller

NIGHT MUSIC
First, he needs talent. Loads of it. Then, he needs the philanthropic know-how of the Chicago-based Stradivari Society.
(2000-06-29)

STATE OF GRACE
This is the amazing Grace Cubs fans revere, worship, know and love. To the throngs of Cubby diehards too young to remember Ernie Banks for anything but his retired number flapping on the left field flagpole at Wrigley, Mark Grace is, no question, this generation's Mr. Cub.
(2000-03-30)

STATE OF GRACE
This is the amazing Grace Cubs fans revere, worship, know and love. To the throngs of Cubby diehards too young to remember Ernie Banks for anything but his retired number flapping on the left field flagpole at Wrigley, Mark Grace is, no question, this generation's Mr. Cub.
(2000-03-30)

Seventies heaven
From cartoons to the Tet offensive, two new books illuminate the wild contradiction of the 1970s. It was a decade sandwiched between the hippie, make-love-not-war radicalism of the sixties, and the BMW-drivin', Ronald-Reagan-rulin', tear-down-the-wall eighties.
(2000-03-02)

Seventies heaven
(2000-03-02)

about Newcitychicago | about Newcity magazine | advertising | privacy policy | FAQ | employment