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| If I find out that Neil was attempting to make a heart with this hand gesture, I'm going to feel somewhat embarrassed for the both of us. |
April was an exciting month to be a Brantner, know a Brantner, have a sister married to a Brantner, win the Boston Marathon or catch a Brantner miked up. In the span of two weeks during April 2014, four of us - including those closely related to us - stood in front of an adoring crowd and preached a personal gospel. My next four posts will celebrate this passion that makes us such a special family, and honor some amazing individuals in the process. One award, one performance, one interview and one celebration. Four stories...
Neil Stratman: Singer, Writer, Performer, "Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend"
Meb Keflezighi: Winner, Boston Marathon (interviewed by me)
Suzi Brantner: Fundraiser, Executive Director, SCARF
Act 2
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| Davenport's Piano Bar and Cabaret - Where I watched Neil become a man! |
I listen to three different Pandora stations on regular rotation, so naturally I consider myself somewhat of an expert on music. My taste in music is as impressive as I am humble about it. I listen to a diverse range including - but not exceeding - jazz, reggaeton and whatever Melody, my lovely wife, makes me listen to in the car. Which is why I was curious when said that she wanted to take a mid-week trip to Chicago to see her immensely talented brother perform his one-man show, Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend.
Lacking confidence in my understanding of the term cabaret, I could only assume it was similar in pitch and tone (no idea what those words really mean) to the slower jams found on a reggaeton compilation CD. You know, the ones you skip.
My second thought on hearing about his show was that it reeked of plagiarism, since Neil is way too young to know what a mix-tape is. Even though, in a random act of musical serendipity, his dad posted the image below just today.
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| Neil has no idea that hapless men used to fill these with Aerosmith songs in futile attempts to woo women |
I had so many questions and understood so little about what to expect from what I imagined to be a vaudevillian form of entertainment (again, not entirely sure what that word means), that I had to see this in person. Besides, I've wanted to see Neil perform ever since I first met him; the only time he sang before me in person was at my wedding, and I was resigned to sneaking looks because I was ordered to focus on the "love candles" that our mothers lit before the ceremony.
And while it would be amazing to see him perform in Rent or Indian Pippin, this show was going to be about him. I'm familiar with his writing, and have witnessed him zing me in person - he's one funny dude. The thought of Neil singing non-lame love songs and beatnicking about chicks up on stage, bathed in red light, surrounded by a gaggle of his besties, made this one performance we couldn't miss.
Melody wanted to keep it a secret, adding to the James Bondery of our mission. We discussed the best way to orchestrate the reveal, wanting to thrill him with a good surprise, yet avoid rattling his focus.
After what seemed like - and actually was - a full day of travel, we found ourselves in a Chicago cab nearing Davenport's. I planted in Melody the idea of sending Neil a "good luck!" text as if she were still in KC, then asked the cabbie to stop by a hardware store so we could buy a shovel to scrape Neil's jaw off the floor. On an almost daily basis, I wish I could somehow find a way to incorporate these mostly useless skills of shenaniganry into something positive at work or home. As is, it's mostly my lovely wife and pets who have to deal with them.
We arrived roughly 30 minutes before kickoff ("kickoff" works for shows, right?) and sauntered up to the bar, having noticed Neil at the other end, obscured from us. I felt so devious that my heart was beating out of my chest. Nervous and unsure of how to proceed, I tried to convince Melody to call Neil as a follow up to the text. Part of me assumed he'd simply screen her call so close to performance, but what I was really hoping for was the chance to have Melody talk to him, make a comment about a particular item of clothing he was wearing (say, his awesome vest), have him go "What the...", then pop out and be all like "SURPRISE BRO!".
Cats in the Cradle is blasting. Doves flutter out from behind us. Neil falls backwards theatrically with the back of his hand on his forehead, knees crumpling into a pretzel, spilling his martini while letting out a lovely groan. We're served free drinks.
In what was probably a good move for Neil's career, none of that happened. We simply ambled down the bar and caught his attention, though our trip was immediately validated by his "What the..." deer in the headlights look. Perilously teetering on being overcome with emotion, this is the only time that I've seen Neil struggle to find his words.
We both exchanged long hugs with Neil and let him know how excited we were for the show. Still looking moderately shocked but now sporting a grin that needed cowboy boots, he composed himself and retired to a hidden room to complete his preparations.
It's difficult to put into words just how amazing this made us feel (especially big sis), but I can honestly say it was one of the greatest and most vibrant (tingly almost) moments that I've ever experienced. I felt slightly selfish, seeing that we came here to support him, and in return were rewarded with a morphine shot to the bloodstream.
Giddy, we left the bar and headed for the cabaret room, a small, dimly-lit space that could just as aptly house an illegal poker game full of men wearing un-ironic fedoras as it would a black & white era crooning lounge performer - both roles I could envision Neil pulling off.
We found a table in front, so close to the stage that Melody's oversized broken foot boot rested on the hardwood floor. If Neil was ever going to sing our faces off, now was his chance!
It was surreal scanning the self-printed, hand-cut playlist, which detailed both the songs he would perform as well as the stories he would tell. I recognized a few of the songs, but what really intrigued me were the stories, with names like "Conversationalist 1", "Long-Term Struggle-Town 2" and my fave, "Subway Love".
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| Pretty sure when Neil sang "You and I Both" he was staring into my soul, but that may have been a side effect of the booze. |
As the room filled up and the soon-to-be-overworked waitress began canvassing the area, we caught up with Neil's roommate/personal trainer Nick, a man who has literally slapped a piece of pizza out of Neil's hand in order to keep him lean and buff for a role. What have you done for your friend lately?
Drink orders in, we anxiously waited with the assorted masses. I would later find out that there were representatives from many of the past lives that Neil has lead. Various co-workers, classmates, neighbors and family (us) all came out for this landmark occasion to support him, and take advantage of such a great deal. It goes without saying that there will undoubtedly be a time in the not-too-distant future where seeing this talented troubadour will set you back much more than a cover charge and two drink minimum.
A few waves of cheers arose when Neil appeared behind the glass door leading into the room. The lounge was dark, as was the hallway leading up to the door, so when his head popped up, it was reminiscent of the classic, silhouetted Queen album cover.
Finally, after unintentionally drawing out the drama, he karate kicked the door to shreds (slight exaggeration) and hopped up onto the stage to massive applause. He chatted with his band for a while, as they fine-tuned their instruments, putting their drums, guitar, tambourine and piano through the paces. This professional yet casual interplay captivated the audience's attention, as we knew the fun was mere moments away. The anticipation was palpable.
Neil strode up to the mike quickly and with resolution, as if it were the last unspoken-for girl at the dance. He greeted the crowd and setup the show, playing up his charm and adorability, whether intentional or not. As his mom would say, he acted very "Neil-like". He almost appeared nervous, speaking about how humbled and excited he was to have everyone come out for the show. For a micro-second, I too felt nervous, as for the very first time I put myself into his medium-sized shoes, staring down at a crowd - albeit an adoring one - hanging on his every word, expecting to be entertained.
I say a micro-second, because in quick succession Neil turned back towards his band, made a few hand gestures, did a sweet looking "A one, two, a one, two three..." number, then forcefully attacked the mike as if it had tried to steal the last unspoken-for girl at the dance from his respectful waist-clutching arms (see what I did there?).
He turned into another being entirely as he confidently began the show with Eric Hutchinson's OK, It's Alright With Me - a classic I'm told, even though it's never appeared on any of my three Pandora stations. For me, the transformation was incredible. It made me realize that though I've seen him sing before, I've never witnessed him perform. Huge difference. It was magical, entertaining, thrilling, exciting and a whole heck of a lot of fun.
Trip = Worth it!
The performance was made all the better, more vibrant and real, seeing that we were seated just two baseball bats away from this potent and lyrical Mac truck. From what I know about singers - and we've already established that it's a lot - I'd say that Neil is one of the more passionate ones out there. Not a phony bone in his body, he wears his emotions, and heart, on his sleeve. It was as if every girl in the room was an ex, every guy there playing the role of the sympathetic buddy helping him get through some shit. "I totally feel you, bro!"
His voice was clear and energetic, soothing when he needed to be soft, vigorous when less subtlety was required. He held complete command of the room, even playing nice with the right side of the audience, who, though supportive, had been over-served as some point in the evening and let everyone know about it.
I'm going to throw out some names from my Kurt Elling pandora station. Now I'm not going to state for the record that I believe that Neil is more talented than these accomplished fellas; but if they're looking for a quality opening act to take under their wing, or for someone to play them in a VH1 movie, then Neil is the obvious choice. Michael Buble; Jamie Cullum, Dean Maratin; Harry Connick Jr.; Bobby Darin; and if he decides to dabble in all things reggaeton, Daddy Yankee.
As exciting as the musical performance was, I was even more excited to hear Neil read - artistically perform, rather - the stories from his blog that divided the musical assortment into sections. True to this great storyteller's form, Neil did not disappoint.
He dramatically read stories of chasing love, losing love, falling in love and making lo... - let's keep this PG-13 for the 'rents. His passionate mannerisms and wild gesticulations punctuated wistful points on stories about how it feels to be in love but struggle to keep a relationship going. How love is not always a two-way street. That if you're going to meet your future wife on the subway, you have to act FAST!
It was heartfelt and insightful, with a heavy dose of the Stratman family humor and candor that makes them so much fun to be around. Had I heard this show as a confidence-lacking (in girls, that is) teen, I would have saved myself from years of hard luck in dating, and possibly the previous three girlfriends before Melody. (OK, the ex-girlfriend pool might not be that deep...)
In fact, Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend can be considered, among other things, a valuable learning tool that should be part of the US high school curriculum. Not to celebrate Neil's difficult and complicated dating past, but rather to celebrate the pain and hardship that every single kid will inevitably face. To show them that it's possible to find humor in the misadventures of love. Eventually.
Melody and I derive so much pleasure openly laughing about our exes and the craziness they brought into our once unstable lives. The bizarre situations our past squeezes got us into (highway lobster claws) and that we somehow survived (Hulk destroy pillow!) gave us the character we needed to make the decisions that lead us to find each other. And for that, we're grateful. Neil's show is a celebration of these wonderful and mostly innocent times.
There's no cautionary part of this tale - no amount of professional-grade songsmanship will prevent men and women from falling in and out of love and doing stupid, emotional, irrational, self-destructive things. But as Neil rhythmically beat his chest while singing Cry Me A River he was letting us know that yes, love can be a burden at times, but that's on the bad days. On the good days...well, on the good days, there's nothing better.
I'm so glad that I was able to see this show at this point in Neil's life. Seeing how talented he is, and how much of a success Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend was, there will undoubtedly be more one-man+band shows. They'll be different though - both his personal life and career will evolve, causing his perspective to change. Performing theater in Chicago and working odd jobs to supplement his income while navigating car, apartment, computer and co-worker issues, he is generating new material to pull from by the minute.
With the possible exception of Neil himself, no one knows the theme for his next show, however if you play your cards right - or entirely wrong - you may play a central role. Regardless, if you're looking to catch a bold performance - part Kurt Elling, part Mike Berbiglia - make sure to stay within grabbing distance of the coattails of the one and only Neil Stratman. Coming to a theater near you!
Drink orders in, we anxiously waited with the assorted masses. I would later find out that there were representatives from many of the past lives that Neil has lead. Various co-workers, classmates, neighbors and family (us) all came out for this landmark occasion to support him, and take advantage of such a great deal. It goes without saying that there will undoubtedly be a time in the not-too-distant future where seeing this talented troubadour will set you back much more than a cover charge and two drink minimum.
 |
| Classic cocktails for a classic crooner |
A few waves of cheers arose when Neil appeared behind the glass door leading into the room. The lounge was dark, as was the hallway leading up to the door, so when his head popped up, it was reminiscent of the classic, silhouetted Queen album cover.
Finally, after unintentionally drawing out the drama, he karate kicked the door to shreds (slight exaggeration) and hopped up onto the stage to massive applause. He chatted with his band for a while, as they fine-tuned their instruments, putting their drums, guitar, tambourine and piano through the paces. This professional yet casual interplay captivated the audience's attention, as we knew the fun was mere moments away. The anticipation was palpable.
Neil strode up to the mike quickly and with resolution, as if it were the last unspoken-for girl at the dance. He greeted the crowd and setup the show, playing up his charm and adorability, whether intentional or not. As his mom would say, he acted very "Neil-like". He almost appeared nervous, speaking about how humbled and excited he was to have everyone come out for the show. For a micro-second, I too felt nervous, as for the very first time I put myself into his medium-sized shoes, staring down at a crowd - albeit an adoring one - hanging on his every word, expecting to be entertained.
I say a micro-second, because in quick succession Neil turned back towards his band, made a few hand gestures, did a sweet looking "A one, two, a one, two three..." number, then forcefully attacked the mike as if it had tried to steal the last unspoken-for girl at the dance from his respectful waist-clutching arms (see what I did there?).
He turned into another being entirely as he confidently began the show with Eric Hutchinson's OK, It's Alright With Me - a classic I'm told, even though it's never appeared on any of my three Pandora stations. For me, the transformation was incredible. It made me realize that though I've seen him sing before, I've never witnessed him perform. Huge difference. It was magical, entertaining, thrilling, exciting and a whole heck of a lot of fun.
Trip = Worth it!
The performance was made all the better, more vibrant and real, seeing that we were seated just two baseball bats away from this potent and lyrical Mac truck. From what I know about singers - and we've already established that it's a lot - I'd say that Neil is one of the more passionate ones out there. Not a phony bone in his body, he wears his emotions, and heart, on his sleeve. It was as if every girl in the room was an ex, every guy there playing the role of the sympathetic buddy helping him get through some shit. "I totally feel you, bro!"
His voice was clear and energetic, soothing when he needed to be soft, vigorous when less subtlety was required. He held complete command of the room, even playing nice with the right side of the audience, who, though supportive, had been over-served as some point in the evening and let everyone know about it.
I'm going to throw out some names from my Kurt Elling pandora station. Now I'm not going to state for the record that I believe that Neil is more talented than these accomplished fellas; but if they're looking for a quality opening act to take under their wing, or for someone to play them in a VH1 movie, then Neil is the obvious choice. Michael Buble; Jamie Cullum, Dean Maratin; Harry Connick Jr.; Bobby Darin; and if he decides to dabble in all things reggaeton, Daddy Yankee.
As exciting as the musical performance was, I was even more excited to hear Neil read - artistically perform, rather - the stories from his blog that divided the musical assortment into sections. True to this great storyteller's form, Neil did not disappoint.
He dramatically read stories of chasing love, losing love, falling in love and making lo... - let's keep this PG-13 for the 'rents. His passionate mannerisms and wild gesticulations punctuated wistful points on stories about how it feels to be in love but struggle to keep a relationship going. How love is not always a two-way street. That if you're going to meet your future wife on the subway, you have to act FAST!
It was heartfelt and insightful, with a heavy dose of the Stratman family humor and candor that makes them so much fun to be around. Had I heard this show as a confidence-lacking (in girls, that is) teen, I would have saved myself from years of hard luck in dating, and possibly the previous three girlfriends before Melody. (OK, the ex-girlfriend pool might not be that deep...)
In fact, Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend can be considered, among other things, a valuable learning tool that should be part of the US high school curriculum. Not to celebrate Neil's difficult and complicated dating past, but rather to celebrate the pain and hardship that every single kid will inevitably face. To show them that it's possible to find humor in the misadventures of love. Eventually.
Melody and I derive so much pleasure openly laughing about our exes and the craziness they brought into our once unstable lives. The bizarre situations our past squeezes got us into (highway lobster claws) and that we somehow survived (Hulk destroy pillow!) gave us the character we needed to make the decisions that lead us to find each other. And for that, we're grateful. Neil's show is a celebration of these wonderful and mostly innocent times.
There's no cautionary part of this tale - no amount of professional-grade songsmanship will prevent men and women from falling in and out of love and doing stupid, emotional, irrational, self-destructive things. But as Neil rhythmically beat his chest while singing Cry Me A River he was letting us know that yes, love can be a burden at times, but that's on the bad days. On the good days...well, on the good days, there's nothing better.
I'm so glad that I was able to see this show at this point in Neil's life. Seeing how talented he is, and how much of a success Mixtapes for an Ex-Girlfriend was, there will undoubtedly be more one-man+band shows. They'll be different though - both his personal life and career will evolve, causing his perspective to change. Performing theater in Chicago and working odd jobs to supplement his income while navigating car, apartment, computer and co-worker issues, he is generating new material to pull from by the minute.
With the possible exception of Neil himself, no one knows the theme for his next show, however if you play your cards right - or entirely wrong - you may play a central role. Regardless, if you're looking to catch a bold performance - part Kurt Elling, part Mike Berbiglia - make sure to stay within grabbing distance of the coattails of the one and only Neil Stratman. Coming to a theater near you!
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| Neil, crazy dialed-in during his performance |
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