Marina in Chicago
The Chicago Theatre is a majestic, golden age temple to entertainment. These sacred halls were once graced by the likes of Judy Garland; now the stucco is peeling and the light fixtures blink ominously. It’s a relic of the past, but one still imagines something special is about to happen here.
And tonight it is, because the theatre is packed with prep school drop outs, bohemians, and more gay men than I knew existed in Chicago. I feel as if I’m in an alternate universe where Liberace and Elton John opened a nightclub and I got in while the doorman wasn’t looking. This is near the truth; no one was looking too closely at the doctored photo of a vaccine card I used to get in. They were too busy examining the Venus fly trap I picked up earlier that day as a gift for Marina.
Thousands of us have gathered to see a singular talent – a Greek/Welsh pop singer in a skin-tight leopard jumpsuit, flared at the feet to make room for chunky boots. She’s in excellent shape and she needs to be because the show is a two hour workout – a nonstop set of her best material. She dances like a little girl alone in her room before an audience of stuffed animals. She sings like God. The lyrics could be the rallying cry of a political stump speech. Everything is so absurdly incongruous, it works – like a surrealist landscape painted by a fifteen year old Marie Antoinette tripping on psychedelics. If Lana is our mom, Marina is our cool older sister teaching us how to not grow up.
The sold out crowd is on their feet the whole time, singing along, shouting declarations of love. I talk to a few kids in a back alley after the show and they are kind, earnest souls with heart-shaped beauty marks and neon corsets. I leave the Venus fly trap with them and they promise to give it to Marina or see that it is taken care of.
I’ve been to a fair number of shows where fans elbow each other, rush the stage, and yell all sorts of obscenities at one another. But tonight there is no shoving, no in-fighting or pettiness. We are all just happy to be here. Maybe it’s because we’re tired of pandemics and welcome any opportunity to get out of the house. But I think it runs deeper than that. It’s something Marina said…
“Concerts are amazing spaces to heal and to dream in. I always hope people walk away from my show feeling lighter, freer and more connected to who they are. Music is a powerful tool for manifesting the life experience you want + leaving the past behind.”
J.
Feb. 15, 2022
Photos from Marina’s Instagram.