The Death of an Architect

     Sad news breaking today from the suburbs. Helmut Jahn has died. For those of you who didn't instantly recognize the name, let me jog your memories. Terminal 1 at O'Hare? The dorms at the Illinois Institute of Technology? The Thompson Center? Those were all designed by him. Born in Germany in 1940, he made his way to Chicago in 1966 to study at the Illinois Institute of Technology. Upon leaving school, he started working with Charles Murphy's firm. He was named an Executive Vice President of the firm in 1973. Soon after that, he started designing buildings. He would do so for the next decade until Chicago came calling. The State of Illinois was building a new government headquarters in the city of Chicago, and Jahn was tasked with designing it. The result was the James R. Thompson Center(known as the State of Illinois Building at the time). With stunning interior views, plenty of office space, and poorly insulated windows, the building easily generated strong opinions about it. Afterwards, Jahn's star continued to rise. Acquiring the nickname 'Flash Gordon', he would go on to design buildings in America, as well as far-flung destinations such as Berlin, Bangkok, and Singapore. He even found the time to get involved in sailing, even having one of his boats win the Chicago to Mackinac race in 1995. He would continue to design buildings and serve as an influential figure in the world of architecture up until his death on May 8, 2021. 

We're Cool For The Summer(Hopefully)

 After 13 months of pandemic and a lost summer, Chicagoans are eager to get out there. And with the latest vaccine news, things are looking very promising. According to various sources, there have been 2 million vaccinations in the city, with supply steadily flowing in. Also today, Dr. Allison Arwady unveiled plans to have incentives in place for young adults to receive the vaccine, further building towards herd immunity. It may not be a complete opening of the floodgates, but after the year that we've had I think I speak for all of us that any good news is more than welcome.

The End of an Era in Lakeview

For 34 years, Guthrie's Tavern has been welcoming thirsty Chicagoans. On July 23rd, it goes away for good, another victim of the COVID-19 pandemic. Opened in 1986, Guthrie's was the perfect place to take a date, sit and drink, or just play some board games. Local residents would come over and spend the evening in the company of friends. Friends, who sometimes would become even more. Several of the people waiting in line outside of the establishment in its final week were married couples who met at the bar and now were regulars with their kids. But like all things, progress would not be denied. Since the city has brought back tighter restrictions to control the spread of the virus, the bar was left out in the cold. And so, it was that we  are losing another part of our lives thanks to this virus.

Rolling into the '20s

     The crowds are back at McCormick Place, as the Chicago Auto Show returns for its 112th Edition. The North and South Halls will once again be stuffed to the gills by cars and car enthusiasts, the test tracks will once again attract crowds, and the test drives will once again be popular. But what's new? Ford is premiering the 2021 Mach-E. Volkswagen is offering a Test Track Experience for the very first time. And Wintrust is giving away a supercar! This promises to be another great Auto Show.

An Aviation Revolution

     United Airlines has just fired the first shot in the new airline wars. Don't believe me? Look at what they did last week. On October 27, O'Hare International Airport saw the inaugural flight of the CRJ-550, a reimagined regional jet. The plane is identical to a CRJ-700 on the outside, but on the inside, United took the 70-seat aircraft and turned it into a 50-seater. You read that correctly. In this modern age of seemingly fewer and fewer passenger amenities in the air, a legacy carrier ripped out 20 seats to make a more comfortable plane. But it's not just the extra legroom that is revolutionary. An often-maligned feature of regional jets is the paltry storage space, necessitating some poor sap gate-checking their bag. Not on the CRJ-550. Some of those 20 seats were replaced by a series of storage lockers in the cabin, supplementing the overhead bins(which have themselves been expanded). Long story short, gate-checking carry-ons just became a thing of the past. What makes this truly revolutionary is the potential it represents. If the CRJ-550 catches on with passengers and starts making money, I can see other airlines taking notice. And maybe not just in the regional market either. How long before some executive gets the bright idea to try this on a 737? Or even a 777? The CRJ-550 could very well be the definition of a game-changer.

The Dance Hall Diaries

     Back in the Roaring Twenties, cities all across the country were crawling with young people living a life that up until then was just the stuff of fantasy. Up until then, most young people went straight from their education to working on the family farm until they shook off this mortal coil. But things were changing. America's population was moving from the farms to the cities. No more did a young woman have to settle for a dreary existence as the wife of a farmer. Instead, she could move to the big city, take a job as a secretary or a telephone operator, and live her life the way she wanted to.

     One of those ways was ballroom dancing. This was the new hip thing to do, the way to let young people feel free and loose, much the same way rock and roll would do so 40 years later. One associated phenomenon was the dance marathon. This is where couples would go to a ballroom, and start dancing. The last couple dancing would win. These proved wildly popular to the young folks, but just like rock and roll, it was frowned upon by the powers that be. A Chicago judge at the time said that dance marathons capitalized on "the morbid curiosity of the same class of observers who avidly view a bull fight or a cock fight". Nevertheless, dancers were able to stay one step ahead of the law. One such contest that was held in New York City was interrupted by the local police, forcing the competitors to dance over to a waiting vehicle which spirited them away to New Jersey. After another interruption, they were shuttled back to Harlem, and then finally all the way to Connecticut, where the contest was stopped and the winning couple established the record of 69 continuous hours of dancing.

     However, that record was not destined to last long. On August 30, 1930, 126 couples stepped on to the dance floor at the Merry Garden Ballroom in Chicago. More than 7 months later, 1 couple was left standing. Mike Ritof and Edith Boudreaux had smashed the record for longest Dance Marathon at 5,148 hours(and 28 minutes). To this day, the record still stands.

Lost and Found

     What happens when something is lost to the sands of time? What happens when that very same thing is dusted off after 80 years? We'll examine both cases today. Eustasio Rosales was a Colombian composer born in 1875 who was one of 27 Million people to visit the 1893 World's Fair. The fair inspired millions of people the world over, and Rosales was one of them. He was so moved that he decided to come to Chicago in 1900. From there he started to make his way as a music man in the city of big shoulders. He played piano for silent movies. He conducted nightclub bands. But all the while, he was working towards his big goal: an opera. He wrote all of the music. He designed the backdrop. He was even corresponding with his brother back in Colombia who was writing the lyrics. He had a name for it: Andina. In the early 30s, he even conducted a group at Orchestra Hall. All was going according to plan. Christmas Eve, 1934: Rosales and his family are all ready to celebrate another Christmas. Suddenly, his wife gathers the family around Eustasio in the living room. He has had a heart attack. The family begins praying, and in the middle of it Eustasio Rosales dies. The family is devastated. His widow is wracked with grief. Andina and all of its corresponding materials go into a bankers box and get stashed in a closet. Over the next 80 years, various members of the family try to have the opera performed, but to no success.
    
     Finally, in the fall of 2013, Arlen Parsa is going through old family papers when he sees the opera. Arlen Parsa is the great-grandson of Eustasio Rosales. After hearing the story of its journey, he decides to do something about it. The thing is, Parsa isn't very well-versed in the field of music. Not one to be deterred, he researches how to put on an opera, and begins assembling a team. First he finds someone who can transfer the 80 year old hand-written score into notation software so that it is nice and readable. Then he needs to find a conductor to lead the orchestra. Having accomplished that, he recruits the Chicago Composers Orchestra to actually play the music. After getting together the instrumental and vocal talent, Parsa still needs a place to actually perform the opera. After searching around, he found a willing host in the Athenaeum Theatre in Lakeview. After finding people to take care of the technical production and the publicity, the curtain is ready to go up on the show. On September 18, 2015, the world premiere of Andina finally takes place, 80 years after it was meant to. It is well-received, and this work from Eustasio Rosales has finally seen the light.

Note: The inspiration for this post, as well as the information contiained within come from a documentary about this journey titled The Way to Andina, which is extremely informative and goes much further into detail than I do here.