DOGHAVEN OPENING WEEKEND FESTIVITIES
Two cars faced each other on opposite sides of the road at a distance of 20 feet or so, their headlights creating an impromptu stage. As I got closer, I saw people milling about, silhouettes in the fog, and thought this might be some southwestern-Michigan-style rave in which teenagers gather on a country road to dance. Getting closer still, I saw smashed-steel-and-molded-plastic kettle drums on wheels, and knew that I had arrived at Doghaven: this could only be the equipment for Chicago’s percussion ensemble, Jellyeye.
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Jennifer Farrel was a quite literally clay-encrusted Camille Claudel. Though possessed of a sweet, slightly distracted presence, she needs to ferret out more of her character’s eccentricities and strengths. Handwringing and an air of desperation are not enough to tell the story of the relationship between an all-consuming artist and a consumed and spat-out artist/victim.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photos/Matt Dinerstein.
