Night of 27 Stevies

All right, there were more than 27 Stevies if you count both those performing and those twirling around the Irving Plaza dance floor. Just nowhere near the Night of 1,000 Stevies that we expected at the 26th anniversary show. Not that the joint wasn't packed, the event was totally sold out.

I went with my Stevie Nicks sister Jenna, who I met many moons ago when "the queen of everything" conducted an in-person signing for live CD/DVD at Barnes & Noble in Union Square. We walked by that very spot while traveling to and fro the big show. Talk about symmetry!

Now Jenna had told me that I might feel uncomfortable if I didn't dress up for NOTS, since she fully expected the crowd to be mostly would-be Stevies and few mere mortals. We got the first inklings that wouldn't be the case when we arrived at Penn Station and didn't see any other Stevies. In fact, we didn't see any until we got to the venue.

But I decided to use raw materials I had around the house and do something in the spirit of Stevie, if not specifically go after a particular outfit -- Jenna looked smashing in her recreation of Stevie's "Stand Back" look. And I have to admit, I kind of was sauntering and sashaying around and feeling my inner Stevie while in costume.

The night, themed "Dark Daughters," was an array of videos, live and lip-synched performances and dance interpretations of Stevie songs, solo and with Fleetwood Mac. So we heard "Stand Back" about five or six times and "I Can't Wait" about five or six times over the course of the night. And we rocked out on them every single time.

We staked out a spot at the railing on the second floor so we could see everything and dance at the same time. It was a lot of fun to jam with the blonde wig on, especially after I acquired my tambourine. Actually the first of two tambos, because we rocked so hard with the first one that the Stevie picture fell off and disappeared. When I went for a replacement, they no longer had the variation I bought, so I wound with my second choice and we took it a little bit easier on that second one. (At least I found a picture of it -- inset below -- so I'll see it in my dreams.)

Speaking of dreams, we imbibed a bunch of them. "Dreams" was a specialty drink created for the night with vodka, club soda, a splash of raspberry and maybe something else. I can't recall, I had four of them.

I thought it was nice timing that this show was going on about two weeks after I saw Pearl Jam. In my mind, Pearl Jam represents my grounded, realistic side. Stevie and Fleetwood Mac, for me, has always been about my pie-in-the-sky, dare I say dream-like nature. But they're both me down to my toes.

There were three acts of musical performances, separated by 15-minute dreamy dance interpretations. I particularly liked the two-person grim reaper. Creepy but effective. Lots of funny moments and quips throughout the night, but the unintentional ones almost busted my gut, namely emcees attempting to throw tambourines to the audience on a couple of occasions. They didn't get very far. If you weren't standing on the general flour in five or six rows deep, it's probably safe to say you didn't get one that way.

Those who sang live did with varying degrees of success. Jenna kept breaking me up with choice comments. She likened one Stevie to Anna Nicole Smith, I never recovered from that over the length of her song. Then she said the one singing "Landslide" sounded like a Munchkin, and that's all I heard for the balance of the song. But some did stand out for me.

Best live performance: There were a lot of lovely renditions, from "Gold Dust Woman" to "Seven Wonders" and the surprise appearance of Orange Is the New Black's Lea DeLaria on "Kind of Woman." But my clear favorite was Lane Moore of It Was Romance killing it on "Silver Springs." My bar for that song is so much higher than for many other of her classics, so you can imagine how she brought down the house.

Best camp performance: Severely Mame with "Little Lies." That's a Fleetwood Mac song with "Christine McVie" on lead, but a huge spotlight stayed on the highest-haired "Stevie Nicks" I've ever seen (and that's saying something with this crew). So "Christine" got increasingly upset when the fans went wild for "Stevie" during the chorus and "Stevie" continued to curry favor with the crowd by playing to them through the rest of the song.



Least favorite performance: I'll have to go with "Crystal." A huge favorite of mine from both the Buckingham Nicks and Fleetwood Mac self-titled albums, I didn't like Bridget Barkan's take nor the unexplainable routine that went with it. I started twirling around and singing to myself so I didn't have to watch.

That reminds me, something unique about this night. Now in general at concerts, what I do is mouth words because I don't want to hear me above the people I paid to see (unless an artist calls for us to sing). And the people next to me certainly don't want to hear me above the people they paid to see. But at this show, it wasn't Stevie, it wasn't the Mac, so I pretty much felt comfortable with singing at the top of my lungs. And so did everyone else. What a blast to do that.

At one point, I was asked whether I liked the rest of Fleetwood Mac or just Stevie. And the duo that asked were surprised when I said I really did. Yeah, as a kid, Stevie was everything to me. But now that I'm older and allegedly wiser, Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie and Mick Fleetwood and John McVie mean as much to me as she does now.

It all culminated in "Battle of a Thousand Stevies," which wasn't so much a battle as 27 Stevies on stage gyrating to "Edge of Seventeen" with 27 Stevies and the 973 of us who remained five hours later following suit from the audience. There was one Stevie behind me trying to draw me into her web with some very exacting textbook Stevie moves. She definitely practiced in the mirror before coming to the show. 

One last thing. I want to be Christine next year. Or Lindsey.

Glorious NOTS photos courtesy of The Dusty Rebel at www.thedustyrebel.com

A subway car named Desire

You know when you have an event, but you're tired and cranky and it's the last thing you want to do that particular day? I was like that Friday. But I knew I'd later regret forever if I didn't go to see Gillian Anderson in Tennessee Williams' Pulitzer Prize-winning A Streetcar Named Desire at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn.

Streetcar had an acclaimed run in England in 2014, and Gillian got incredible notices for her turn as Blanche DuBois. The world knows her best as Special Agent Dana Scully from The X-Files, and she showed her chops on that show, but she's also given incredible performances in classic fare such as The House of Mirth and Great Expectations as well as in the British series The Fall in the ensuing years.

So it was really something I needed to see. I got my butt in gear and trained into the city and then rode the subway to St. Ann's, scenically located under the Brooklyn Bridge. It's an intimate venue, there were only two rows on my side of the stage. At times, the actors were so close in proximity, I felt like I was part of the scene.

The set itself was a very sparse rectangle -- no walls, just a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom with a stairway just off the front door. The faucets run, the toilets mock flush. And it rotated -- for most of the show, that sucker was moving. And sometimes it works to your benefit. A number of key scenes were played right in front of me. In some others, I watched backs and just listened to the performances. That might not sound ideal on paper, but it really takes it to another level, making you experience it with other senses besides your eyes.

This interpretation of Streetcar gets a bit of a modern update in places. For example, Blanche's suitcase is a modern-day variation with wheels and music like PJ Harvey's "To Bring You My Love" and Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" is used liberally during fades between scenes. But it doesn't come off as jarring at any point, unless you're a purist about that kind of thing.

Now the biggest and best compliment I have for Gillian Anderson is that there is no semblance of Gillian Anderson in the performance. She looks like her, and maybe more like her than any other character I have seen her play. The Southern accent was right on, it didn't waver and it was delivered with great strength and precise intonation. Despite the pathos in most of what Blanche has to say, Gillian tapped the humor of the lines, more than occasionally giving the audience a chance to blow off some steam. When she herself laughed, it didn't sound like the giggle we associate with Gillian, it was pure Blanche. Even when she's just watching others, she transfixes the audience. And we didn't "see" Gillian until the bows. It was perfect. Flawless.

Frankly, I don't know how she does it. Actors clearly aren't like the rest of us. Seven days a week, eight performances, she stands on a rotating stage in very high heels and gets herself to the most emotional places. It's a roller-coaster ride for Blanche, and us, in the process.

Ben Foster more than holds his own opposite her as neanderthalic Stanley Kowalski. Now Ben, I know him from teen fare ranging from Freaks and Geeks to Get Over It and he's always been an affable talent to me. As Stanley, he's buff and he's a man. Just like Gillian, he completely disappeared into the role. I was very much knocked out by him.

British actress Vanessa Kirby also gave a very fine performance as Stellllllllllllla. Except for one small part in an emotional part of the denouement, all I heard was the long-suffering sister/wife's voice. I didn't know of her before, now I look forward to seeing her in other avenues. The same holds true for Corey Johnson, quite endearing but not overly sappy for the appropriate amount of time as Mitch.

Before the show, I talked with some people who had already seen it. Kate from Melbourne, Australia had journeyed all the way to New York City just to see Gillian in the run. She wanted to watch the show from another viewpoint in the audience, and she ended up sitting next to me. Two other women had seen it the previous night, but felt compelled to come back right away.

After seeing it, I knew how they felt. I wanted to take it all in from a different place in the audience. I wanted to watch it with actor friends to get their takes on it. I wanted to see the cast do what seems so impossible -- just to be at that level of emotion throughout a three-hour, 20-minute show with very little letdown. I just wanted to be drawn in all over again.

So obviously I made the right choice to get off my keister and go to St. Ann's. (Oh yeah, I also want to see other productions there too.)

Garden party, hold the Avocado

There had been a lot of speculation ahead of Pearl Jam's second show at Madison Square Garden. The band had already done two full album shows -- Vs. on Record Store Day in Greenville, South Carolina, and Ten to represent their 10th sellout at the Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia. As the second Garden show is traditionally considered an epic event, rumors ran rampant.

The early money was on the band's third effort, Vitalogy, which has yet to be performed in its entirety in concert. But that sort of fell by the wayside once people started realizing that May 2 was the 10th anniversary of the self-titled album, better known as Avocado. Then anyone and everyone expected that instead. Expectations rose to a fever pitch.

But Pearl Jam didn't play Avocado. In fact, they didn't play any songs from that release. Didn't make a reference to it at all. And that's why I love Pearl Jam. You never really know what they're going to do next.

My fondness for "setlist as art" started with Pearl Jam and Tori Amos in the '90s. I believe that the songs musicians -- and these one in particular -- play during any given concert are the ones that should be played. At this point, I wouldn't even want to recommend a song, if I was asked. Not that I am or anything.



Here's the canvas they painted that night: Corduroy, Mind Your Manners, Once, Animal, Given To Fly, Surrender (with Cheap Trick's Rick Nielsen and Tom Petersson), Small Town, Nothingman, Leatherman, Better Man/Save It For Later, Garden, Even Flow, Sirens, Deep, Jeremy, Leash, Do The Evolution
Encore: You've Got To Hide Your Love Away, All Or None, Pendulum, Present Tense, Breath, State Of Love And Trust, Porch
Encore 2: Last Kiss, Driven To Tears (with Sting), Lightning Bolt, Sonic Reducer, Alive, Baba O’Riley, Yellow Ledbetter/Star Spangled Banner

We were in fan club seats in Section 102, which is all the way across the arena lengthwise from the stage. Now in one of those archaic stadiums, that would seem pretty far, but the way the Garden seats angle forward, it didn't seem quite so bad. Not that I really noticed, for I was rocking out all night -- fast songs, slow songs, it didn't matter.

But first we met the other people in the row. I'll mostly skip over the part in which a couple who had apparently bought counterfeit tickets were ultimately removed, and go to the good stuff. On our left were two fans who had never been to a Pearl Jam show before. I told them to prepare to have their minds blown -- and it wasn't far into the show, maybe five or six songs when one of them leaned over and said, "You were right!"

It was actually a day in which I met a lot of cool fellow fans. Came in the city early to start the adventure, and on the train, I met Rob and Tasha -- who were name-checked by Ed Vedder during a show in San Diego in 2013 -- and their young son ... Eddie, of course! I was on the merch line by myself by a couple of hours, but after that almost fruitless wait, I meandered over to the Wishlist Foundation party at Madison Square Tavern and made new friends very quickly. Newer fan Noosh and veterans Greg and Guy ... it was just a good time talking about the band we all love so much and the shows we've been to. And then my Pearl Jam buddy, Liam, showed up -- I think I've seen four of my 10 shows with him now.

When we made our way over to the arena, I got my show poster and the last event t-shirt that might have been left in the building. Then I had avocado sushi in honor of the album's anniversary. I'm not an avocado eater by nature, but it was quite refreshing.

But not nearly as life-affirming as the set, which started off at full tilt with four rockers, including opener "Corduroy" -- which Liam was hoping for -- and "Once," one of my all-time favorites. That go-for- broke vibe nicely rolled into the always-transcendent "Given to Fly."



And then "the Garden Party," as Ed put it, got kicked up another notch when Mike McCready's buds from Cheap Trick -- Rick Nielsen and Tom Petersson -- came on board for "Surrender." A really nice surprise and early too, which seemed to be a recurring theme. A lot of songs I associate with being later in the setlist moved up front -- the "man trilogy" of "Nothingman," "Leather Man" and "Better Man" soon followed.

That didn't take me aback as much as the emotions I felt during "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town." That one really got to me, I'm quite sure I never had tears in my eyes during it before.

As mentioned earlier, this marked the 10th time I'd seen Pearl Jam live. Ed also said it was the 10th time they played the Garden. And we got a lot of tracks from the debut album of that name. "Garden," "Even Flow," "Deep" and "Jeremy" kept everyone's energy at a high level early, and later, the same was true with "Porch" and "Alive."

Got to experience "Sirens" for the first time live, and that's a real nice slow jam to sway along to. Then we rocketed to the end of the first set with "Leash" and "Do the Evolution." I was playing air guitar on my poster tube, that was a new one for me ... and Liam.

The gems were plentiful in the first encore, starting with Ed delivering a charming version of "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" solo. The MSG crowd ate it up. Beautiful ballads "All or None" and "Present Tense" reverberated around the building with such grandeur. And then the piece de resistance, the one-two punch of the band's two songs on the Singles soundtrack, "Breath" and "State of Love and Trust." Again on the first, I got emotional. On the latter, I felt the irresistible beat in every atom of my being.


The second encore started off with the band facing the audience seated behind them, and I never mind that when it's "Last Kiss," a cover song that's not exactly my favorite. Liam and I dramatically were re-enacting the lyrics. There's just not a boring moment to be had at a Pearl Jam concert.

But, oh boy, what came next. I couldn't quite make out the vocals, but it sounded like a Police song. I said as much to Liam, and about 20 or so seconds later, he goes, "Yeah, 'cause there's Sting!" I wasn't even looking at the stage, so wrapped up was I in my dancing. But really a perfect selection when you consider Sting's involvement in world affairs and how that meshes nicely with Pearl Jam's ideals.

Then it was full speed ahead to the end, with the likes of "Lightning Bolt," "Sonic Reducer" and "Baba O'Riley." It's always toughest to hear "Yellow Ledbetter," 'cause you know it's closing time and you won't be running the gamut of emotions again until your next Pearl Jam show. Luckily, mine's in August at Fenway, but that just doesn't seem soon enough right now.