Friday, 5/18 “Lust, Not Lost,” @ Uptown Writers’ Space
I arrived at 7 p.m. sharp at a nondescript door between the famed Green Mill jazz club and the alfresco crowd of Crew. Within seconds of pressing the buzzer for the Uptown Writers’ Space buzzer, I was immediately let in. (No secret handshake, no code word). I followed the stairs upward towards the sounds of chatter, bottles of wine popping open, and was suddenly transported from the drab, sun-faded Uptown to a room with eggplant walls, track lighting, and a bird’s eye view of an early evening sky.
People were centered around an elaborate spread of sushi, wine, beer and sweets, all with the perk of “free.” Posters around the room promoted the reading “Lust, Not Lost,” and with an image of a cow pooping and a bird feasting on said poo.
At 7:30, we were directed into the main room, chairs lined up and facing a small wooden stage with a nautically striped backdrop. Set to take the stage were three local writers, Julie Saltzman (co-creator of Uptown Writers’ Space), her fellow UWS member and college friend J.B. Vanover, and local screenwriter/playwright Dan Rybicky.
J. B. Vanover shared two pieces. A self-effacing, clean-cut guy, Vanover shared a chapter entitled “Spiral In the Heartland,” from a yet-to-be-titled book. Fidgeting with his shirt’s collar and buttons, Vanover told the story of a small, struggling minister center in Chinatown that had reached a bit of a spiritual crossroads. The audience ate up Vanover’s comical, witty style, and as he finished, he and Saltzman bantered about their New Orleans college days.
Before Saltzman took to the stage, photocopied packets were passed that contained three photos (boys on soccer field, two infants side by side and a toddler with headphones). In a riff of Kieslowski’s “Decalogue,” each photo corresponded with Saltzman’s works. Where as Vanover came across as slightly anxious, Saltzman was loose, comical, and quirkily endearing. Her piece was a “slice o life” narrative about being a suburban mother of three and the perils of approaching 40—her husband watched, beaming, from the darkened doorway. Saltzman’s inner-monologue style was meant to be read aloud and the photos were a nice touch that finessed her story and perspective.
The third to read and the first to truly work with the evening’s “theme,” Dan Rybicky stepped on stage, greeting the crowd with “I have a big appetite for inexplicable urges!” An artist, published author, and film teacher at Columbia-Chicago, Rybicky stole the show. He opened with a short piece entitled “Picky,” (Front Forty Press; “Short Stories Illustrated By Artists”) about a girl with what could be argued as an inexplicable obsession. Rybicky’s three other pieces included “Late Morning Dove (An Ode)”, “Personal Ode (A Poem),” and “Diamond + Spider,” which included a slideshow for an upcoming Found Magazine project, yet to be released.
To close out the evening, Vanover returned to the stage with his “magic folder of lit” (a green iridescent folder from his Mother), and shared his final piece entitled “Another Philadelphia Story,” which captured post-collegiate uncertainty and utilized phrases like “crazy sex” and “sex it like a freak,” much to the audience’s amusement.
The applause faded and the audience followed Saltzman’s cue to “drink all the wine and beer so I don’t have to take it home.” I left the UWS oasis and found myself back on N. Broadway. Just then a man walked by. Noticing a cigarette butt on the sidewalk, he nonchalantly picked it up and placed it between his lips… So ends an evening of inexplicable appetites.
Amanda Phelps medicates cats for money. She also keeps an ever-evolving document of her Chicago run-ins, ruminations and overheard conversations at: http://theajbrigade.blogspot.com/
Readings, Rated
