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About Last Night

Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City

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Archives for June 2005

OGIC: Namedropper

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

Like some people who are taking a lot of heat of a rather ugly and blustery variety for saying so, I’m no fan of the writing workshop. I was in one good one once, though. That anomalously great fiction-writing workshop took place in the later 1980s and was taught by one Luis Alberto Urrea. The new novel by my old teacher, The Hummingbird’s Daughter, is quick becoming this summer’s literary sleeper: the much to be trusted Moorish Girl, who reviewed it for the Oregonian last weekend, provides links to other enthusiastic notices as well.


Although this is all happening because Urrea’s a marvelous writer, and although my brush with him occurred awfully long ago, I feel compelled to add that it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy or a more inspiring teacher. Bravo. (And yes, I’m certainly going to read the novel when I can work it in.)

OGIC: Namedropper

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

Like some people who are taking a lot of heat of a rather ugly and blustery variety for saying so, I’m no fan of the writing workshop. I was in one good one once, though. That anomalously great fiction-writing workshop took place in the later 1980s and was taught by one Luis Alberto Urrea. The new novel by my old teacher, The Hummingbird’s Daughter, is quick becoming this summer’s literary sleeper: the much to be trusted Moorish Girl, who reviewed it for the Oregonian last weekend, provides links to other enthusiastic notices as well.


Although this is all happening because Urrea’s a marvelous writer, and although my brush with him occurred awfully long ago, I feel compelled to add that it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy or a more inspiring teacher. Bravo. (And yes, I’m certainly going to read the novel when I can work it in.)

OGIC: Fortune cookie

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

“‘So tell me, Superintendent,’ he said in a voice which stayed just this side of patronizing. ‘This was your first trip to America? What did you think of it?’


“Dalziel thought for a while, then said with saloon bar judiciousness, ‘Well, what I think is, it’ll be right lovely when they finish it.'”


Reginald Hill, Recalled to Life

OGIC: Fortune cookie

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

“‘So tell me, Superintendent,’ he said in a voice which stayed just this side of patronizing. ‘This was your first trip to America? What did you think of it?’


“Dalziel thought for a while, then said with saloon bar judiciousness, ‘Well, what I think is, it’ll be right lovely when they finish it.'”


Reginald Hill, Recalled to Life

OGIC: Hearing voices

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

The White Sox are playing the Tigers, so I’m watching baseball. The play-by-play guys for the Sox are driving me crazy, though. In what seems to me an insincere display of folksy familiarity, they call all the Chicago players by their first names, adding a “y” whenever plausible, never mind felicitous: Pauly (Konerko), Scotty (Podsednik), Hermy (I don’t know who this refers to, but I’m sure I heard them say it). For one thing, “Konerko” is a great, spiky name that it’s a shame to squander. That’s bad enough. What’s really objectionable, though, is the attempt to manufacture a chummy, affectionate bond between fans and players that should spring up organically or, if it doesn’t, be left alone. Maybe that is the case here, but to me it sounds like they’re pushing it.


Mind you, I grew up on the comparatively dry style of the great Ernie Harwell, whose relative formality didn’t preclude a definite down-home appeal. Harwell, of course, had that gently cadenced southern purr going for him, making it sound like politesse and respect but not stiffness when, say, he called opposing players “Mr.” Like anyone in his line of work, he had the trademark phrases that never fully escape becoming a bit of a schtick: the most theatrical and probably my least favorite was the home run call, “it’s looooooong gone”–though, gosh, it was a pretty little tune–and the one I most delighted in was his standing strikeout call, “He stood there like the house by the side of the road and let that one go by,” stresses in all the right places. But the best thing about Harwell’s work was everything he didn’t say, his modesty and his economy. You got from him crisp accounts of the action, frequent reminders of the score, and the occasional well-placed anecdote–but mostly you got what what you needed to know.


These guys I’m suffering now cloy in (admittedly unfair) comparison to Harwell–not to mention being some of the worst homers I’ve heard. The ones on the radio are, I think, more respected by the fans but share this tendency. I’ve seldom heard a Sox game in the car without them letting loose something along the lines of “if this Sox batter gets on and the player on deck hits a home run, we’ll have a tie game.” Or “if this guy hits a single in just the right location, the runner on first could score,” rash speculation stated as if it’s considered expert opinion. Sigh. Is it so hard to simply report what happens on the field? If that most unlikely circumstance occurs, does the Sox fan find it enhanced by having been predicted in about the same way a broken clock is right twice a day? Somehow I doubt it.


Also, this game is now going to the twelfth inning, tied 3-3. There’s little doubt the White Sox are the better team on the field–they’re the best team in baseball, comfortably–but the fact is that the Tigers have threatened in each of the last four innings while the White Sox have mostly been quiet. Do the play-by-play guys acknowledge this, the characterizing feature of the late going of the game? Hell, no. I don’t think that’s in their job description. They say this: “The White Sox have only had two hits since the 9th, so the Tigers bullpen has done its job–as has our bullpen. Neither side has given up a run” (emphasis added). No, but one has had six hits and stranded a bunch of runners in scoring position! Seriously, these guys are the Pravda of baseball announcing. One of the things that was awesome about Ernie Harwell, and made all of us who listened to him a little bit better too, was his unfailing generosity toward the opposition. He announced for the Tigers, and his pleasure was discernible when the Tigers did well, but at bottom what the man served was the game.


If you follow these things at all you’ll remember that in 1992 the Tigers organization experienced a brain freeze that remains inexplicable and outrageous to this day, and let Ernie Harwell go. I was living in New York City at the time, and when the Tigers came back without the great man the following season, I was certain I could sense from my Bowery digs the difference in the timbre of a Michigan summer night. They brought him back, of course, and all was well in the world of Detroit baseball again, even with terrible teams and even after his proper retirement three years ago at the age of 84. As was only fitting, he was ultimately the one to choose the time and manner of his departure from the game. One misses him, though–some nights more than others.


(Postscript: Looks like the White Sox might take this one in the 13th inning. Even if they don’t tell it this way in Chicago, they were lucky to get out of more than a couple scrapes along the way.)

OGIC: Hearing voices

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

The White Sox are playing the Tigers, so I’m watching baseball. The play-by-play guys for the Sox are driving me crazy, though. In what seems to me an insincere display of folksy familiarity, they call all the Chicago players by their first names, adding a “y” whenever plausible, never mind felicitous: Pauly (Konerko), Scotty (Podsednik), Hermy (I don’t know who this refers to, but I’m sure I heard them say it). For one thing, “Konerko” is a great, spiky name that it’s a shame to squander. That’s bad enough. What’s really objectionable, though, is the attempt to manufacture a chummy, affectionate bond between fans and players that should spring up organically or, if it doesn’t, be left alone. Maybe that is the case here, but to me it sounds like they’re pushing it.


Mind you, I grew up on the comparatively dry style of the great Ernie Harwell, whose relative formality didn’t preclude a definite down-home appeal. Harwell, of course, had that gently cadenced southern purr going for him, making it sound like politesse and respect but not stiffness when, say, he called opposing players “Mr.” Like anyone in his line of work, he had the trademark phrases that never fully escape becoming a bit of a schtick: the most theatrical and probably my least favorite was the home run call, “it’s looooooong gone”–though, gosh, it was a pretty little tune–and the one I most delighted in was his standing strikeout call, “He stood there like the house by the side of the road and let that one go by,” stresses in all the right places. But the best thing about Harwell’s work was everything he didn’t say, his modesty and his economy. You got from him crisp accounts of the action, frequent reminders of the score, and the occasional well-placed anecdote–but mostly you got what what you needed to know.


These guys I’m suffering now cloy in (admittedly unfair) comparison to Harwell–not to mention being some of the worst homers I’ve heard. The ones on the radio are, I think, more respected by the fans but share this tendency. I’ve seldom heard a Sox game in the car without them letting loose something along the lines of “if this Sox batter gets on and the player on deck hits a home run, we’ll have a tie game.” Or “if this guy hits a single in just the right location, the runner on first could score,” rash speculation stated as if it’s considered expert opinion. Sigh. Is it so hard to simply report what happens on the field? If that most unlikely circumstance occurs, does the Sox fan find it enhanced by having been predicted in about the same way a broken clock is right twice a day? Somehow I doubt it.


Also, this game is now going to the twelfth inning, tied 3-3. There’s little doubt the White Sox are the better team on the field–they’re the best team in baseball, comfortably–but the fact is that the Tigers have threatened in each of the last four innings while the White Sox have mostly been quiet. Do the play-by-play guys acknowledge this, the characterizing feature of the late going of the game? Hell, no. I don’t think that’s in their job description. They say this: “The White Sox have only had two hits since the 9th, so the Tigers bullpen has done its job–as has our bullpen. Neither side has given up a run” (emphasis added). No, but one has had six hits and stranded a bunch of runners in scoring position! Seriously, these guys are the Pravda of baseball announcing. One of the things that was awesome about Ernie Harwell, and made all of us who listened to him a little bit better too, was his unfailing generosity toward the opposition. He announced for the Tigers, and his pleasure was discernible when the Tigers did well, but at bottom what the man served was the game.


If you follow these things at all you’ll remember that in 1992 the Tigers organization experienced a brain freeze that remains inexplicable and outrageous to this day, and let Ernie Harwell go. I was living in New York City at the time, and when the Tigers came back without the great man the following season, I was certain I could sense from my Bowery digs the difference in the timbre of a Michigan summer night. They brought him back, of course, and all was well in the world of Detroit baseball again, even with terrible teams and even after his proper retirement three years ago at the age of 84. As was only fitting, he was ultimately the one to choose the time and manner of his departure from the game. One misses him, though–some nights more than others.


(Postscript: Looks like the White Sox might take this one in the 13th inning. Even if they don’t tell it this way in Chicago, they were lucky to get out of more than a couple scrapes along the way.)

TT: So out of here

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

Once more, dear friends, I hit the road, this time to see the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival‘s production of The Tempest and Barrington Stage Company‘s revival of Stephen Sondheim’s Follies. Our Girl will post my weekly Wall Street Journal drama-column teaser and the almanac entry for Friday, but otherwise you’ll hear no more from me until next week.


Have a glorious Fourth. If you live in a firecracker-friendly locale, shoot one off for me!

TT: So out of here

June 30, 2005 by Terry Teachout

Once more, dear friends, I hit the road, this time to see the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival‘s production of The Tempest and Barrington Stage Company‘s revival of Stephen Sondheim’s Follies. Our Girl will post my weekly Wall Street Journal drama-column teaser and the almanac entry for Friday, but otherwise you’ll hear no more from me until next week.


Have a glorious Fourth. If you live in a firecracker-friendly locale, shoot one off for me!

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Terry Teachout

Terry Teachout, who writes this blog, is the drama critic of The Wall Street Journal and the critic-at-large of Commentary. In addition to his Wall Street Journal drama column and his monthly essays … [Read More...]

About

About “About Last Night”

This is a blog about the arts in New York City and the rest of America, written by Terry Teachout. Terry is a critic, biographer, playwright, director, librettist, recovering musician, and inveterate blogger. In addition to theater, he writes here and elsewhere about all of the other arts--books, … [Read More...]

About My Plays and Opera Libretti

Billy and Me, my second play, received its world premiere on December 8, 2017, at Palm Beach Dramaworks in West Palm Beach, Fla. Satchmo at the Waldorf, my first play, closed off Broadway at the Westside Theatre on June 29, 2014, after 18 previews and 136 performances. That production was directed … [Read More...]

About My Podcast

Peter Marks, Elisabeth Vincentelli, and I are the panelists on “Three on the Aisle,” a bimonthly podcast from New York about theater in America. … [Read More...]

About My Books

My latest book is Duke: A Life of Duke Ellington, published in 2013 by Gotham Books in the U.S. and the Robson Press in England and now available in paperback. I have also written biographies of Louis Armstrong, George Balanchine, and H.L. Mencken, as well as a volume of my collected essays called A … [Read More...]

The Long Goodbye

To read all three installments of "The Long Goodbye," a multi-part posting about the experience of watching a parent die, go here. … [Read More...]

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