Chicago’s most theatrical politician must have wished he had been on stage at the Cadillac Palace Thursday morning, given how the A-list of the theater community convened to pay homage to an elected official.
But that politician, former Gov. Rod R. Blagojevich, was stuck a few blocks away, preparing for jury selection in his self-produced legal drama. Instead, it was Mayor Richard M. Daley basking in the plaudits, a testament to the relevance of real performance, not mere acting.
The downtown Chicago Theater District honored Mr. Daley on its 10th anniversary, led by Broadway in Chicago, the potent operator of downtown theaters, as well as by the Goodman Theatre and the 250-theater Chicago League of Theatres. The celebratory tone came amid the mayor’s difficult year, replete with an awful economy, budget travails, the suicide of a top ally and his lowest popularity ratings in years.
“No one has worked harder and risked more than Mayor Daley,” declared Lou Raizin, president of Broadway in Chicago.
Mr. Raizin alluded to the Loop’s distinctly melancholy state not long ago — before the refurbishing of several theaters like the Auditorium, the expansion of Loop university campuses, and new restaurants — and the benefits of the revitalization for his firm. They include annual audiences of 1.7 million, a decade of payrolls totaling $100 million and the impact on other sectors, like hotels, with 6.7 percent of local hotel occupancy attributed to people coming to town to see his shows, like the musical “Billy Elliott.”
Some Daley critics might have winced upon hearing Mr. Raizin present the case for tax increment financing, or TIFs. They’re a development tool, used nationwide, that Daley has relied on to, critics say, benefit developers at the expense of other public entities such as public schools and parks. They’ve been essential to the downtown theaters, he said.
And if the activity in the Loop at night leaves a lot to be desired, you cannot deny the failure of previous mayors to turn matters around. Remember Jane Byrne’s ignominious State Street Mall gambit?
Roche Schulfer, executive director of the Goodman, called what has happened with the theater district “a signal achievement in urban development and private-public partnerships,” lauding the mayor’s “vision, tenacity and courage.”
Mr. Daley’s arts record is solid and goes well beyond the time he stood on the “Jersey Boys” stage and exhorted Chicagoans to go watch theater. For all the caricature of the monosyllabic, middle-brow politician, the mayor has been a force, in part due to his world travels and a propensity to borrow the ideas of others.
Whether it’s fiberglass cows on street corners, the handiwork of world famous architects or teaching Chinese in the public schools, the mayor has a sophisticated sensibility akin to a plodding baseball pitcher’s sneaky changeup — it’s frequently missed.
His wife is well-known as an important arts influence, partly explaining his choking up when mentioning her name yesterday. She has inoperable breast cancer and was not able to attend, but one of their daughters, Nora Daley Conroy, who is chairwoman of the Steppenwolf Theatre’s board, was there. Steppenwolf’s artistic director, Martha Lavey, cited to me the mayor’s passionate cultural interests, and said she had been summoned to his City Hall office to discuss her institution’s role. “I admire his leadership,” Ms. Lavey said.
Speakers included Rocco Landesman, a successful Broadway producer and chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts. Mr. Landesman recalled his late-1980s production here “of a little play called ‘The Producers.’ ” He spoke not just of the potent, job-producing economics of the arts but also their enhancement of a city’s quality of life.
The honoree talked eloquently about how “life isn’t about politicians, government and business” but more about the books you read, the music you hear, the art you view. The worst thing schools can do is eliminate arts programs, Mr. Daley said, his one mildly confusing declaration since he is lord of a system where art and music are often first cut during a budget crises.
Challenged on that point a bit later, he said that perhaps we should at least think of arts as central to after-school programs.
Regardless, it was the one ambiguity in a seemingly heartfelt appearance by a man whose chief professional worry is whether to run again.
It was distinctly different for the political performance artist a few blocks away. That artist has to wonder if his next great role will include a single costume: a prison jumpsuit.
by JAMES WARREN | Jun 4, 2010
Chicago’s most theatrical politician must have wished he had been on stage at the Cadillac Palace Thursday morning, given how the A-list of the theater community convened to pay homage to an elected official.
But that politician, former Gov. Rod R. Blagojevich, was stuck a few blocks away, preparing for jury selection in his self-produced legal drama. Instead, it was Mayor Richard M. Daley basking in the plaudits, a testament to the relevance of real performance, not mere acting.
The downtown Chicago Theater District honored Mr. Daley on its 10th anniversary, led by Broadway in Chicago, the potent operator of downtown theaters, as well as by the Goodman Theatre and the 250-theater Chicago League of Theatres. The celebratory tone came amid the mayor’s difficult year, replete with an awful economy, budget travails, the suicide of a top ally and his lowest popularity ratings in years.
“No one has worked harder and risked more than Mayor Daley,” declared Lou Raizin, president of Broadway in Chicago.
Mr. Raizin alluded to the Loop’s distinctly melancholy state not long ago — before the refurbishing of several theaters like the Auditorium, the expansion of Loop university campuses, and new restaurants — and the benefits of the revitalization for his firm. They include annual audiences of 1.7 million, a decade of payrolls totaling $100 million and the impact on other sectors, like hotels, with 6.7 percent of local hotel occupancy attributed to people coming to town to see his shows, like the musical “Billy Elliott.”
Some Daley critics might have winced upon hearing Mr. Raizin present the case for tax increment financing, or TIFs. They’re a development tool, used nationwide, that Daley has relied on to, critics say, benefit developers at the expense of other public entities such as public schools and parks. They’ve been essential to the downtown theaters, he said.
And if the activity in the Loop at night leaves a lot to be desired, you cannot deny the failure of previous mayors to turn matters around. Remember Jane Byrne’s ignominious State Street Mall gambit?
Roche Schulfer, executive director of the Goodman, called what has happened with the theater district “a signal achievement in urban development and private-public partnerships,” lauding the mayor’s “vision, tenacity and courage.”
Mr. Daley’s arts record is solid and goes well beyond the time he stood on the “Jersey Boys” stage and exhorted Chicagoans to go watch theater. For all the caricature of the monosyllabic, middle-brow politician, the mayor has been a force, in part due to his world travels and a propensity to borrow the ideas of others.
Whether it’s fiberglass cows on street corners, the handiwork of world famous architects or teaching Chinese in the public schools, the mayor has a sophisticated sensibility akin to a plodding baseball pitcher’s sneaky changeup — it’s frequently missed.
His wife is well-known as an important arts influence, partly explaining his choking up when mentioning her name yesterday. She has inoperable breast cancer and was not able to attend, but one of their daughters, Nora Daley Conroy, who is chairwoman of the Steppenwolf Theatre’s board, was there. Steppenwolf’s artistic director, Martha Lavey, cited to me the mayor’s passionate cultural interests, and said she had been summoned to his City Hall office to discuss her institution’s role. “I admire his leadership,” Ms. Lavey said.
Speakers included Rocco Landesman, a successful Broadway producer and chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts. Mr. Landesman recalled his late-1980s production here “of a little play called ‘The Producers.’ ” He spoke not just of the potent, job-producing economics of the arts but also their enhancement of a city’s quality of life.
The honoree talked eloquently about how “life isn’t about politicians, government and business” but more about the books you read, the music you hear, the art you view. The worst thing schools can do is eliminate arts programs, Mr. Daley said, his one mildly confusing declaration since he is lord of a system where art and music are often first cut during a budget crises.
Challenged on that point a bit later, he said that perhaps we should at least think of arts as central to after-school programs.
Regardless, it was the one ambiguity in a seemingly heartfelt appearance by a man whose chief professional worry is whether to run again.
It was distinctly different for the political performance artist a few blocks away. That artist has to wonder if his next great role will include a single costume: a prison jumpsuit.