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Tag / hawaiian culture

The Tourist Trap: Kumu Kahua Theatre’s “Ua Pau (It Is Finished, Over, Destroyed)”

It had been a while since they’d attended anything at the theatre that could be truthfully described as “intense.” There had been tension in their recent outings –– Out Of Love and Ms. Blakk For President found appropriate balances of sweetness and drama –– but it had been more than a year since anything went as dark as quickly as Ua Pau.

“Lots of shouting,” Dania commented, as they walked out of the theatre.

“Well, it’s a family drama,” Eleanor agreed. “That’s what ends up happening when all the secrets come out.”

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In Authentic: Paul McGee & Shelby Allison’s “Lost Lake”

Stepping out of the Uber, Eleanor looked around. It was late, and the lights from the midnight market illuminated the intersection of Diversey and Kedzie better than any of the dim streetlamps could. She glanced at the surrounding buildings –– none of them showed any indication of being Chicago’s hidden tiki bar.

The car sped away, leaving her stranded in the center of Logan Square. She quickly texted Dania. At the intersection. Where r u?

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Cultural Commodities: Nothing Without A Company’s “Not One Batu”

The house lights rose – as much as they could in the already illuminated space – just as Eleanor was already standing. The patter of rain against the concrete step could be heard through the open door, though she noted that it had been stronger during the performance than now.

“We should bolt,” Eleanor said to Dania and Gwen, still seated. Gwen might not have even heard, her gaze fixed intently on the author’s note.

“Hey,” Eleanor repeated, tapping Gwen’s shoulder.

“What?”

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No Man Is An Island: Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s “Facing Future”

“Why did you buy a ukulele if you couldn’t play it?”

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” Gwen admitted, shifting to the much easier C chord. “It was only $20, it was on sale. It’s not the world’s best ukulele ––”

She shifted into F, followed by A-minor, but the latter chord had a rogue note stuck into it. Gwen held out the uke to observe her fingers.

“I see that” Eleanor commented.

“That was me,” Gwen said, referring to the note. “Maybe if I can curve my thumb around under the neck…”

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