MYCincinnati, a free youth orchestra program in Price Hill, begins as
Eddy Kwon, assistant program director, leads the Ambassador Ensemble, a
string sextet of young musicians, in their practice.
When I was a high school senior and the teacher who staged the school plays — her name was Mary Price — picked Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew,
there was a lot of moaning and groaning. Why do we have to perform in
some dusty old play from centuries earlier?
Matt Distel’s smartly curated exhibition, Now Here: Theoretical Landscapes, is a broad
sampling of more than 20 regional artists who mine personal and
universal landscapes to present hypothetical meditations on locations of
space and time.
Veteran newspaper reporter Jim DeBrosse’s Hidden City,
set in, around and below the streets of Cincinnati, is a tour de force
mystery thriller that also addresses many of the city’s social and
Scott Wilson is a playwright unafraid of the prickly issues of contemporary
life. In Buzzer at the Cincinnati
Playhouse, she tells a story that could be set in Cincinnati’s Over-the-Rhine.
(It’s actually in New York City.)
When I was
a teenager, I devoured comic books ... I haven’t spent much time with those stories or
characters for years, but Know Theatre’s production of Hearts Like Fists took me back to the days of two-dimensional
characters, clear delineation between good and evil and lots of slam-bam
Tracey Scott Wilson, whose recent play Buzzer
opens this week at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park (it’s onstage
through April 19), once said in an interview, “The biggest issue we have
in this country is race, and it’s an issue that Americans don’t talk
It’s not unusual for visual artists to choose film/video as a medium — Ragnar Kjartansson’s A Lot of Sorrow recently showed here and several videos were part of the Cincinnati Art Museum’s Eyes on the Street exhibit.
In late July 1967 more
than 10,000 citizens of Detroit rioted. Police had raided a blind pig — an
unauthorized after-hours hangout very much like the one Chelle and Lank have
established in their family’s basement — where more than 80 patrons, all
African-American, had gathered to celebrate the return of a Vietnam veteran.
Jeremy Essig may or may not be recording a CD at Go Bananas
this week. “I don’t know if they know about it,” he says, laughing, “I just
sort of decided. I had a spot open up and [Go Bananas] had a week open, so I
picked it up."