Dave Devine’s contribution to the current Weekly is a good story about the feud between the Tucson Symphony Society—the formal entity that is the Tucson Symphony Orchestra—and what was formerly known as the Tucson Symphony Women’s Association. The way Dave tells it, this looks like a bullying money grab by the TSO, a financially desperate organization that is overspending by half a million dollars a year. Read the article, and see what you think.
Something old, or at least expected, and something new from me in the latest Tucson Weekly. First, the usual theater review:
Did you know that "George Gershwin" is a registered trademark? Yeah, sure, Gershwin was certainly not ashamed to make money as a songwriter, and he was a great composer who deserved every penny he got. But there's something unseemly about the Gershwin estate ostensibly protecting the composer's interests by trademarking the name; not only can granting the right to use the music generate income, but the man himself has been commodified.You’ll find the full review here, but don’t think you’ll have had your fill of me once you’ve seen that. The Weekly’s editor cajoled me into joining the restaurant-review team, and for my first expense-account visit I naturally chose a fairly expensive restaurant:
Actor-writer-pianist Hershey Felder had to get permission from the Gershwin Family (that's what the group is called, as if it included certain Sopranos) to research and perform George Gershwin Alone, a chatty evening in which Felder portrays Gershwin reminiscing about his career and playing some of his hits. Felder's family-authorized depiction of Gershwin, currently being presented by Arizona Theatre Company, is squeaky-clean, breezy and superficial, and by the end of the short performance, a lot remains unsaid. Yet what we do get is remarkably engaging, witty and entertaining from beginning to end.
The few times that foie gras appears on the menu at Bar 58 and Bistro, it's accompanied by the specification "humanely raised." Presumably, that means that some poor goose or duck did not sacrifice its liver after a lifetime with a feeding tube jammed down its throat.Health be damned; I was actually inspired to write a positive review of the experience, which you can find here.
Or perhaps the practice of gavage has been perfected to resemble an evening at Bar 58: being pampered with an abundance of fine wine and rich food to the point that you hardly care that your liver is becoming a quivering ball of fat.
James Reel's cranky consideration of the fine arts and public radio in Tucson and beyond.
